Sometimes Kit wondered if he had a sixth sense; anyway, it seemed like he did when it came to Baloo. He knew exactly where the bear would be: the cliff tops overlooking the Cape Suzette canyon. There was an old hangar up there that had long since fallen into disrepair, and rusting; Baloo had taken Kit to see it once—not long after they'd first arrived in Cape Suzette. Kit was easily impressed by the plane as it was an older model they didn't make anymore; however, Baloo wanted to impress him more by how you could throw rocks into the canyon without making a sound. He called it "canyon tossing". "You gotta make a wish," he'd told him, "but you just can't tell anyone what it is you wished for! That's what my Daddy once told me."

Kit remembered what he'd wished for.

A family.

It didn't take him long to realize, not long after, that it had worked: he'd found his home in Cape Suzette, with Baloo and Rebecca and Molly Cunningham—even Wildcat, he supposed was kind of like an 'uncle'; while Wildcat had never offered, Louie himself had encouraged Kit to outright call him 'Uncle Louie'-which made his death all the much harder for Kit, who had never had an Uncle anyone. He knew Baloo never minded him calling him "Poppa Bear" (the honorary title had just come naturally), as had the name Baloo chose to call him by ("Lil' Britches"). He'd been amused by that, sometimes wanting to call Baloo "Big Britches" (but he'd just never had the guts to do so; he hadn't wanted to alienate Baloo anyway by making fun of his size).

It was exactly Baloo's size that made him stand out against the wide expanse of blue and the equally gray hull of the old rusting plane when Kit arrived at the top of the cliff overlooking the canyon below. The bear was doing the usual old "Canyon Toss", taking one of the naturally smooth rocks that had collected sometime from the Ice Age and tossing it into the vast empty space. He didn't notice Kit coming up behind him until Kit said, sheepishly, "Hey, Poppa Bear," which nearly caused Baloo to jump and fall to his doom—because he'd thought he was alone.

"Kit!" Baloo exclaimed, "what're ya doin' here?"

"I…had to talk to you," Kit admitted hesitatingly.

Baloo stared at him quizzically, finding himself both simultaneously confused as well as impressed. "How'd you even know I was up here?"

"You found me up here once before," Kit reminded him pointedly, "remember?"

Baloo had to think about it for a second, but then the memories came flooding back: when he'd gotten that trophy from Sheer Khan for "Best Pilot of the World". He'd let it go to his head and almost alienated Kit in the process. In the end, he'd exposed Don Karnage for the trickster he was—and to make up for his pigheadedness, Kit had gotten the replacement trophy for "Best Navigator in the World."

"Oh yeah," Baloo half-chuckled, nearly misty-eyed with amusement, "the Master Run!"

"We really showed those dupes, huh?" Kit grinned at him as he came to join him.

For a moment Baloo found himself grinning back. "We sure did." Then, almost just as soon as the grin appeared, it faded like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. "Kit…" Baloo sat down on the bare ground. "...if you were in my position…." He knew it was unfair to ask a twelve-year-old his opinion on such a monumental business decision, but Baloo was at his wit's end. "...what would you do?" the older bear asked.

Kit was surprised; he was rarely given such an opportunity to express himself in such a way; but then again, Baloo wasn't like most guys he knew; Baloo treated him like they were equals—partners—which they were, no doubt about it, through thick and thin. "Er…" He shrugged. "I dunno…" he ducked his chin shyly beneath the visor of his baseball cap, suddenly feeling sheepish and totally out of his depth. "...Take the deal, I guess? I dunno Poppa Bear," he shook his head with dismay (suddenly realizing the weight that was on Baloo's shoulders). "Nobody's ever put me in their will before."

"Well in that case…" Baloo bit his lip as he glanced away, twirling his thumbs nervously. "...if I died…" he ventured, "would you take the Sea Duck?"

"Baloo…" Kit was startled by the question, as well as immediately concerned. "Of course I would! I-I'd be honored," he stammered. "-B-but—" He found himself suddenly fearful. "You—you're not going anywhere," he blurted out, "are ya?"

"Naw!" Baloo grinned sheepishly at the boy, tugging playfully at the visor as he pulled it over Kit's eyes; Kit laughed as relief washed over him, as he readjusted the cap—and just as he had placed it perfectly back on his head, Baloo suddenly tackled him to the ground and was tickling him; they both laughed, hard, and it was like music to Kit's ears; it was like the good old days, the same old Baloo he remembered. They both went to get chocolate shakes afterward, and the treat never tasted so good.


Everything went like clockwork for the rest of the evening without interruption; Baloo napped in the easy chair while Rebecca did her paperwork, Kit did his homework and Molly played "Danger Woman" outside by the docks while Wildcat kept an eye out for her. Everything was suddenly feeling normal again, and finally Kit could breathe—but that night, he was startled out of sleep gasping for breath: because a sound had woken him. It wasn't just any sound: the sound belonged to Baloo, who was hollering something at the top of his lungs—writhing about in the bedsheets and moaning as though he were in pain—and Kit, now fully awake, lept out of bed and rushed to his side. "Baloo!" he shook his friend furtively. "Baloo—wake up! It-it's Kit—"

"I-I'll tear ya limb from limb!" Baloo suddenly grabbed Kit by the shoulders and, before Kit could respond, he found himself hurled nearly clear across the room, where he slammed against the far wall, banging his right shoulder. His cap flew off his head and landed somewhere on the floor, and suddenly it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. He looked up and saw Baloo's frame towering over him…and, as though he were living his own nightmare, he could see Baloo begin to raise his hand upwards, preparing to strike:

"BALOO!" Kit hollered at the top of his lungs.

It was a good thing he did it then, too, because Baloo stopped his paw from making an impact just in time—-

—mere inches away from Kit's face. Baloo froze, his eyes suddenly widened at the sight before him, and then at himself, at his own paw raised upwards above his head, and he yelped, a sudden almost otherworldly sound that Kit had never heard anyone, let alone Baloo make before—and he stood there as Kit lay trembling, staring up at Baloo with wide and haunted eyes, as Baloo stared back at him the same….

"...Poppa Bear…" Kit practically choked on his own words as he stared up in horror at the one he always thought he could trust. "...you…you almost—"

"NO!" Baloo backed away in terror, but it was himself he was terrified of—because he would never consciously harm anyone, let alone Kit, and he stared down at his own paw, which was shaking something fierce; he turned in a fury and, to Kit's horror slammed his fist straight through the wall—the wall imploded, leaving a gaping hole where Baloo's hand once was, which was now trickling bright red blood all over the bedroom floor. Baloo stared down at his hand in horror, horrified at what he'd just done. "Lil' Britches…" Baloo croaked once, staring up at the kid who stared back at him in shock: but before Kit could respond, Baloo pitched forward, nearly landing on top of him as he lost all consciousness, and everything went black.

It was some time before Kit was called in from the waiting room. When he saw Baloo propped up in the hospital bed, Kit's eyes filled with tears: Baloo's head had a nasty bruise from where he'd knocked his head when he'd collapsed, and his hand had needed stitches. "...Baloo…" Kit murmured from the doorway. He could hardly move.

Baloo, it seemed, was unable to look at him—as though he were ashamed of him, and it hurt. What had he done wrong? Kit wondered. He'd only tried to be the best navigator and friend he could be.

"Baloo?" Kit took a seat beside him, but the bear just looked the other way and closed his eyes. "...Baloo…" Kit had a lump in his throat as he reached his paw out. "I-I know you didn't mean to," he managed to say in spite of the heavy silence that filled the room. "...you were…you were sleepwalking…"

" 's no excuse, kiddo." Baloo sounded tired, more tired than Kit had ever heard him sound before. "I…I told myself I'd never take a hand to anyone and—and I went back on my word…" Kit winced as Baloo's eyes filled with tears. "I went back on my word and—worse—" he choked out, "I went back on my word—-with you! My—my navigator…" Baloo's voice quivered, and Kit shut his eyes as he cringed, knowing the older bear was being far harder on himself than Kit could ever have.

"Hey…" Kit drew his chair a little closer, even as Baloo refused to look his way, so wracked with guilt he couldn't look Kit in the eye. "I know you wouldn't really hurt me," he said, "and…I forgive you," he added plaintively, "...okay?"

"Listen to me, kid." Baloo looked at him then, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bright with unshed tears. "I wish I could say it was 'okay'...but….truth is….this just helped me make my decision….I'm gonna have to stay at Louie's," Baloo declared, much to Kit's astonishment, "because—well—I've gotta take the deal anyway….no way around it, and…and I just plain don't trust myself around ya."

"B-but BALOO!"

"Don't argue with me, kiddo." Baloo slid down further in the bed as though he wanted to disappear into the bedsheets. "I-I gotta do this….with or without your acceptance and…believe it or not," Baloo added as he covered his face with one hand, "I-I wish I didn't hafta, I wish that-that good ol' Louie would just waltz right in through that doorway with a pizza pie in one hand a Tiki drink in the other and…and he'd take one look at me and he'd say, 'Geeze, Fuzzy, you sure are a sorry sight for these eyes!' and we'd both laugh and laugh, just like the good ol' days—" Baloo's voice cracked and he sniffled brokenly. Kit had to look away; he couldn't bear to see his best friend cry. "I-I'd take ya with me if I could…" Baloo spoke sincerely, even as his voice broke with every word, "But—this is just somethin' I hafta do," he added decisively, "alone…"

"B-b-but—" Kit suddenly felt like he was five years old and he hated it. "I don't want you to leave!" he protested as loud as he could without causing a scene. He felt tears tugging at his own eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. "I-I-I want to stay with you!" He threw himself on the big bear's stomach, and then he couldn't help himself, he burst at once into tears.

For a moment, Baloo didn't say a word; he couldn't. Instead, he just placed a big heavy paw on Kit's back, trying to reassure him as best he could without words that everything would somehow be alright again. He wasn't sure how but it would have to be.

"I'm not leavin' ya, Kit," Baloo said softly. "We just won't be sharing a bedroom…for a while."

"So…" Kit sniffled, "you mean…it's not…permanent?"

Baloo leaned forward and, to the best of his ability, gave the boy a gentle pat on the head. "We'll just have to see how it goes."

Kit couldn't help himself then, he threw his arms around the pilot, hugging him tight. "I love you Poppa Bear."

"Love ya too kid…" Somehow Baloo managed to speak through the lump in his throat. "...Thanks."

Author's Note:

So, I realize this is quite out of character for Baloo….but Baloo is dealing with the aftermath of a traumatic experience (seeing your friend die in your arms is a life-changing event that sticks with a person for the rest of their lives). Trauma has a way of presenting itself in strange ways…in Baloo's case, he's having nightmares and has also begun 'sleepwalking'. Baloo of course would never purposefully hurt Kit, and he wouldn't want to be away from Kit at all, definitely not for long. Thankfully now Kit knows this, and Baloo will prove it to him in the future.