Chapter Four: Children-By-Heart

At first, Lance was surprised his uncle was starting with his parents. Yes, it was sad that his guardian's father had been an alcoholic himself, thus laying the groundwork for Uncle Greg to follow that example, but what did any of that have to do with how Uncle Greg had treated them?

Yet as Uncle Greg continued, explaining how he'd left home and gone to the police academy, Lance started to figure it out. You couldn't understand the future if you didn't know the past – and boy was he getting an eyeful of what it had been like for his uncle as a young man. To have a need and drive to be different, to be a protector, and yet not possess the tools to make that happen… Aslan had provided a way, though; Uncle Greg might not have been the best graduate of Toronto's Police Academy, but he hadn't washed out, either.

From the academy, Uncle Greg touched on his first encounter with Castor Troy, the trial, and the car bombing two years later, but his discomfort was so plain that Lance didn't mind that he was largely skipping over that part of his life. He did listen with a bit of awe as Uncle Greg recounted his first meeting with Uncle Ed and how their friendship had developed before Uncle Greg had met Dean's mother and gotten married.

Lance scooted a touch closer as Uncle Greg moved onto his promotion into Homicide and how his personal life had gone downhill as the stress of working murders began to eat away at him. The first forays into more than just 'social' drinking and how pretty soon, Uncle Greg had been drinking on a daily basis, desperate to escape the darkness of his job and the constant misery of death. The loss of his family and how that had led to the week off – and Uncle Greg's intention to drink himself into oblivion.

Uncle Greg's voice broke as he quoted the letter from Haley and how that had halted his self-destructive spiral. The letter back to Haley and the rehab he'd gotten into right afterwards – a rehab that Uncle Greg was quite sure his cousin had quietly arranged. Lance wasn't sure, but it did sound like something his Dad would've done. Probably through Gringotts since Silnok had understood the non-magical world more than his father had.

"So…after that, you got into the SRU?" Lance ventured.

Uncle Greg nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if your Dad pulled some strings there, too. I remember being shocked they'd be willing to give an alcoholic like me a try."

Lance swallowed his protest. Back then, Uncle Greg hadn't been a successful negotiator – he'd been a Homicide detective who'd had a breakdown and just come out of rehab. "Were you on Team One?"

"No, I was on Team Two, actually," Uncle Greg replied. "I was under Sergeant Barney Fletcher; he was close to making commander, but an injury took him off the job not long after I made team leader." One hand waved in an almost shrug. "That was a couple years after I joined the SRU, so I was Team Two's primary negotiator by then. I hadn't been a team leader long enough to be a Sergeant, though, so our commander had Danny Rangford mentor me until he cleared me for promotion." The stocky man grimaced. "That put Danny in a rough spot; for a couple months, he was leading both Team Four and Team Two."

"You didn't make him do it," Lance countered. "He was Uncle Ed's Sergeant?"

"He was," Uncle Greg confirmed. "I recommended Ed for the SRU, but Danny's the one who did his psych eval and officially gave him the nod. He was on Danny's team until Danny retired, then I snapped him up." He frowned, thinking through the chain of events. "We would've been Team Two, but my team leader at the time was ready to be promoted and I wanted him to have a team he was familiar with. Team One was having serious problems so Commander Akin – he was Commander Holleran's predecessor – did some executive reshuffling and I ended up taking over Team One. Had to rebuild it from the ground up, but Eddie and I made things work until we'd gotten all the internal issues sorted out. Another member of the team had seniority, so Ed wasn't my team leader at first, but he eventually made it up the ladder. Wordy didn't make SRU until after Ed and I were on Team One, but he's known Eddie even longer than I have. Fit right in and we went from there. Picked up Jules, then Lou." A quietly proud smile. "Spike was a computer and bomb genius from the start, but Lou's the one who managed to break through his shell. If not for Lou, Spike might've washed out."

"What about that guy who was on your team before Uncle Sam?"

"Rollie," Uncle Greg filled in. "He joined the team right before Jules did. Good man with a lot of leadership potential, but Eddie already had team leader sewn up by then, so he was hoping for a transfer to another SRU team."

"So he could be a team leader?" Lance ventured.

"Exactly." Uncle Greg frowned. "You know, I think I'll have to ask Commander Holleran about Rollie. I haven't seen him at any of the meetings with the Sergeants and team leaders."

Lance nodded thoughtfully. "You'll figure it out, Uncle Greg." Biting his lip, he asked, "What about when we came?"

Uncle Greg's shoulders slumped. "Kiddo, I don't regret that day. Never have, never will, but I do wish I'd known about my magic. Then maybe I could've kept some of it from happening."

"Some of what from happening?" the young man pressed.

Weary hazel turned in his direction and Uncle Greg swallowed hard before pressing forward. Slowly, haltingly, he explained about what Tolay had done to his magic in the Netherworld, how he'd twisted it, ever so slightly, and imbued it with a hint of demon power. Lance's jaw dropped in utter horror. How had he missed that? Even a minimal amount of demonic magic should've stood out to anyone who actually took the time to look – right?

It just got worse from there as Uncle Greg continued, explaining how he'd saved Roy Lane's life – but his connection to his magic had been severed in the process. He tried to skim over getting his magic back at McKean, but Lance refused to let him. Fresh horror erupted inside the teenager when Uncle Greg admitted that his magic had almost certainly been tainted by Airwolf's Obscurus – they both knew there was only one moment when that could've happened.

His fault. What had he been thinking? He'd missed the demonic magic and enabled the tainting of his uncle's magic… All along, Miss Marina had been right – he had ruined Uncle Greg's life. She was right to hate him and view him as a threat – Uncle Greg hadn't known anything about magic, so how on Earth could he be expected to know what lines he shouldn't cross when he used his magic? Lance had known, though, and he'd failed miserably. He should've taught Uncle Greg more about how to handle his magic, how to judge his limits, and how to keep the gryphon instincts from running the show. He hadn't…and that had hurt his uncle so much. His fault, all his fault – and all so avoidable. He'd…he'd stood by and watched as his uncle's magic was separated from his core…from his soul. Magic might provide the power, but the human was the soul of that power. Without a soul's governing influence, magic was feral – dangerous to the wielder and bystanders alike. And he'd let that happen to Uncle Greg.

Arms closed around him, pulling him backwards into Uncle Greg's chest. "Stop it, mio nipote. You and Alanna are very mature for your age, but you are kids. It was never your job to take care of me or my magic. I let my fear get the best of me and I let that fear get so big that I literally couldn't control my magic, even before I physically lost that ability." A gentle shake. "You know what, kiddo? Once I woke up in the hospital after Fletcher Stadium, after we'd gotten the 'team sense' sorted out, you know what helped me the most?"

Lance shook his head, feeling his uncle's shirt shift under his hair.

"Those visualization exercises you taught me after Eddie got shot," Uncle Greg replied. "You had to remind me of them when my magic started acting up, but after Fletcher, I remembered them and that's how I started really learning how to control my magic." There was a pause and Lance fought the urge to twitch when he felt his hair flatten and the slight weight of his uncle's chin on his head. Then there was a breath of a laugh. "I've even managed to use a couple spells, kiddo, and you taught me how."

"You have?" Lance asked, caught off guard. "But you're Squib-born."

Another laugh, but it was louder. "I know, mio nipote, but that doesn't seem to be slowing me down any. That unlocking spell is going to come in handy on hot calls. Silencing ward might come in handy, too, if I ever figure out how I did it."

Lance fidgeted, glancing down. "But if I'd taught you more, then your magic wouldn't have gone crazy on you."

"Kiddo, stop. We could 'what-if' ourselves to death and it won't change a thing." The arms around him tightened and it was frightening how comforting that felt. "It was never your job to take care of me, it was my job to take care of you – and I'm sorry that I let you down. I let my fear of inadequacy take control. I let that fear push away two kids I love with all my heart and I left them wondering if they'd ever be good enough."

His throat tightened and he couldn't help the nod.

Uncle Greg rocked on the bed, tightening his grip even more. "I'm sorry, mio nipote. I wish I could take it back, but I can't."

"It's okay," Lance choked out.

"No, it's not," Uncle Greg disagreed. Then he adjusted his grasp and Lance looked up into his uncle's hazel. "Do you know what I had before you and Alanna turned up on my doorstep?"

"Team One?"

"Sure I had them, but they're my coworkers. We were close, but that's just the job, kiddo. That's not enough for anyone, mio nipote, but that's all I had. I'd go to work and I'd come home to an empty apartment and a 'fridge full of frozen dinners. Never minded working overtime – why would I? Nobody was waiting at home for me."

A lump was growing in his throat. "Then we came," Lance whispered.

"Then you came," Uncle Greg agreed. "And you were scared, but both of you were willing to give me a chance. You were both willing to be brave and live in a world totally different from the one you'd known all your lives." One arm released and Lance felt his uncle start rubbing his back. "I have no idea what my life would be like if you'd never come and I don't want to know, kiddo. You and your sister mean everything to me; I love you just as much as I love Dean."

"But Dean's your son," Lance protested.

"Yes, he is," Uncle Greg acknowledged. "But you and Alanna…" He paused, as if searching for the words. "I would never, ever deny your parents' role in your lives. They will always be your parents, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Lance whispered, nodding.

"Lance, you and Alanna, you gave me back my life." Gentle, Uncle Greg hugged him once more, cradling him like a precious, irreplaceable treasure. "You gave me a reason to keep on living, to do my very best to come home each day. You let me into your world and you learned mine just as well." He hesitated, then plunged on. "You may not be my children by blood, but you are mine. There is no comparison between you and Dean because as far as I'm concerned, all three of you are my kids. I love each of you with everything I've got – and if I have to choose between any one of my children and my girlfriend, I will choose you every single time."

Emotion swelled and Lance turned in his uncle's grasp. He didn't reach back, but the dam inside his soul burst, letting out a flood of tears and sobs. Despite what he'd written in his letter, he hadn't really believed it. Even as he'd insisted to Miss Marina that Uncle Greg would choose them, he hadn't really believed it. What was some little orphan brat to the woman Uncle Greg loved with all his heart and soul? Especially a little orphan brat who'd made his magic go wild and hurt every single member of his adopted family.

In the waking world, he might've fought against his uncle's heartfelt words, but here, inside his dreamscape, he knew his uncle believed every word he spoke. His magic sang inside his chest, reassuring him that Uncle Greg wasn't holding anything back. The warmth of his uncle's love shattered the ice that had encased his heart and he knew he'd never be tricked again.


Greg held his nephew close as the young man sobbed in his arms. They'd turned a corner, though whether that was a good thing remained to be seen. Lance was still using 'sir', but he'd relaxed, no longer holding himself aloof from the comfort his uncle sought to offer. The sobs wrenched the teen's whole body, but they felt clean. Pent up emotional poison draining out instead of hysteria.

Aslan willing, he'd broken through whatever barriers Lance had put up to keep him out. One hand stroked his nipote's back and Greg didn't even try to restrain his private joy to have his nephew tucked in his grasp. No longer fighting to be free or hurling accusations, but willing to nestle into his arms and accept comfort. There was much, much more to rebuild, yet the negotiator could sense he'd taken the first crucial steps towards mending what he'd so thoughtlessly tossed aside and torn asunder.

Time passed, though Greg couldn't be sure how much. His nephew stayed huddled up, crying, but he wasn't concerned. Considering how long things had been building up and festering beneath the surface, it was little wonder that Lance just needed to let it all out. Parker wished he'd been wiser and more observant, but Artorius had been right – he was human, he was going to get things wrong. Not to mention the wry observation that every parent on Earth let their kids down in one way or another. They weren't angels…they weren't even saints. All he could do now was open up his heart and do his best to repair the damage to their relationship.

Then a sharp pain erupted from his core, spreading through his whole chest and wrenching a gasp from his lips. Even as Lance lifted his head, Greg could feel it. His whole form was wavering, just like the ghosts had. Fear rose in a thick cloud because he knew what was happening. Worse, he couldn't stop it even if he tried. His core was shutting down under the strain of trying to support two people at once and his magic was running out. Much as he hated it and wanted to deny it, his race was done. He'd made his last stand, taken his last hot call and risked everything – only for the Reaper to call his debt due. Hazel shifted to his nephew and he reached out, grasping Lance's chin so their eyes met and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I don't regret anything, mio nipote. Not when it comes to you or Alanna." Aslan, I know my time is over, but please, let him live. Bring him home – he's like a son to me.

"No, don't leave me!" Lance begged, finally hugging him back. "Uncle Greg, you can't die on me!"

In that moment, Greg felt both indescribable joy and incomprehensible regret. His nephew had accepted him again – just in time for him to die.

In the stillness around them, they both heard the harsh, triumphant laughter of a vulture.