There wasn't one window, one nail, one wooden board that Noah could recall from this nondescript house. Staring up at the rust-red roof, he felt nothing; no memory, no connection to the short time he had lived there at all.

As a boy, he'd learnt to never attach himself to anything or anyone he couldn't take with him. So it wasn't too surprising that this house looked entirely like every other house he'd known in his life.

Except for Snyder farm and their home in Los Angeles of course.

Noah's first instinct was to search the garden. But the basic manors ingrained within him, had him climbing the porch steps to knock politely on the door.

Nobody was home. This wasn't too surprising on a workday. But Noah wanted to make sure. The last thing he needed was to scare the living daylights out of some poor housewife.

He knocked once more to be certain; eventually satisfied the house was empty of people. Although a peek through the window confirmed it was currently lived in.

Grabbing a pickax and a spade out the back of his truck, Noah traversed the side of the house coming up short when he spotted the wooden decking outside the kitchen door.

He remembered…

…

"Wake up!"

"Hm?" Noah blinked in confusion.

"I want you dressed and downstairs in ten minutes. Don't bother showering. You're only going to get dirty anyway."

"Wha-?"

But the colonel was already gone.

Noah rubbed at his eyes, sleepily grabbing his alarm clock to confirm what he already suspected; 5 am on a Saturday.

The boy groaned, flopping back into the welcoming sheets. He counted slowly to ten with his eyes closed, took a deep breath, and lifted his tired body out of the bed.

Noah knew better then to keep the colonel waiting too long.

Yawning, he pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt he usually used while mowing the lawn. He ran a comb through his hair and quickly splashed his face with warm water from the bathroom sink.

His father was busy stacking planks of wood when Noah finally made an appearance in the back garden.

"I've decided to deck this whole outside area," the colonel explained. "I expect to get this done today, so no slacking off. Understood?"

Noah nodded, wondering why the colonel was bothering. He would much rather his father spent the day trying to woe Kacy back. Noah missed her terribly.

"Start by putting those planks in order," Winston ordered, breaking into Noah's thoughts. "They're numbered, so I imagine it's a task you can manage without screwing things up."

"Yes, sir," Noah sighed, setting immediately to work as his stomach groaned for breakfast.

It was difficult going for a seven year old. The boards were cumbersome and splintered his fingers. Of course, he didn't dare complain or whinge. Neither would he dream of asking his father why they were bothering to build a deck, when they wouldn't be around long enough to enjoy it.

By mid-day the foundation was laid to the colonel's satisfaction.

"Let's take 30 minutes to eat. Then we'll continue."

Noah sighed with exhausted relief as his father's hand came to his shoulder; a rare squeeze of fondness Noah would file away in his memory's treasure box.

Winston made grilled tuna-melt sandwiches and Noah ate two with relish; chasing it down with a class of ice-cold milk.

"It's just you and me, Son, "Winston said all of a sudden, watching Noah with a strange wistful look in his eyes. "You and me, together forever."

…

Noah flinched at the memory; words spoken then, only to be repeated years later in a cabin, minutes before Winston Mayer set himself in flames.

The logical side of Noah knew he was likely in the midst of a mental breakdown; or at least part of the way down that road. A newly formed part he wasn't yet familiar with, considered heading back to the truck and calling Luke; for once letting Luke in on everything exploding in his skull.

But a larger part couldn't help but think this was the answer. If he could just solve this new riddle; find Kacy…

…maybe he could finally make things right… perfect.

He stopped thinking. The Cedar wood splintered as Noah flung the pickax over his head; smashing the first board. He paused for just a moment; a second in which he could still decide to turn back; then shook his head and flung the ax once more.

…

"You doing okay there, champ?"

Luke raised his eyebrows at this father. "Champ? Really, Dad?"

Holden smiled as he pulled the truck to overtake a semi-trailer. "You'll always be a kid to me, Luke. One day, when those little ones of yours are all grown, you'll understand better what I mean."

Luke smirked even as he maintained his frozen position; knuckles white where both hands gripped the perceived safety of the door handle. "I love you too, Dad."

Luke closed his eyes and breathed deeply, resting his head back against the seat.

"I'm proud of you, son," Holden said. "It's not easy what you just accomplished."

"Guess I just needed a good reason too," Luke replied without opening his eyes. He could feel beads of sweat developing and fought the urge to panic at every mile they passed. Eventually, deciding it was best to distract himself with talk, he said, "This is partly why we broke up, you know?"

"What is?" Holden asked.

"It's just how he is, Dad. Noah pre-plans everything. It's how he coped all that time living with Colonel Crazy. If he's got a plan then he can see things through; and everything fits into place. He's, I don't know…"

"…safe that way?" Holden guessed.

"Yeah," Luke agreed. "So, like, when things go wrong or off-script, he can't deal."

Holden nodded. "He sees it as failure."

"And growing up, failure wasn't an option for him." Luke said, staring up into the blue late morning sky. "Failure meant punishment."

"No," Holden corrected, thinking once more to the horse, Clandestine. "I think it's more likely Noah's conditioned to believe that failure means he deserves punishment."

Luke was silent for a moment as he considered this. "That makes sense. It would explain why he tends to put himself through unnecessary pain; like he's punishing himself. Did I ever tell you why Noah pushed me away so much after he was blinded?"

"No, I don't believe you did."

"Because…" Luke shrugged. "We weren't perfect…"

Holden looked over at his son.

Luke nodded at the expression on his father's face. "Exactly. The life he wanted to give me vanished… and in its place was this… this darkness. The perfect future he had in mind – me and him together, in L.A…"

"He lost it all," Holden finished.

Luke nodded. "Only he didn't. It wasn't the dream that was lost… it was the perfection."

"And when things aren't perfect he's failed." Holden sighed shaking his head. "Wow, that kid…"

"And then there's me making everything in his life so fucking unpredictable!"

"He knows who you are, Luke." Holden sympathized. "He understands your reasons."

"Still doesn't make it right though," Luke pointed out. "Especially since I know him too."

The vast expanse of high security fencing came suddenly into view, as soon as Holden took the off-ramp for the army base.

"Like living your childhood behind bars…" Luke whispered.

Holden sighed his agreement as the truck rattled along the base perimeter; searching out the main entrance to the complex.

"There's the sign," Luke pointed just in time.

Holden took a quick swing right and pulled up to a large barrier manned by a nearby security hub. Three camera's zoomed in on their truck; taking stock of every aspect, including the licence number.

They could see the security guard inside, but he seemed busy on a phone call.

"Come on," Luke groaned impatiently, leaning over Holden to hoot the horn; a sound the guard simply frowned at but declined to respond to.

Eventually, after waiting longer than he could handle, Luke braved opened the door and stepped gingerly out of the truck.

"Luke," his father warned, but Luke was already following a cautious path to the security hub.

"Excuse me?" Luke greeted, leaning against the wall to steady his shaking legs and hoping the guard would drop his call.

"But, sir," the guard continued to say into the phone, completely ignoring Luke, "he was all clear! Came up clean as a whistle..."

"Excuse me?" Luke asked again, louder this time.

The already agitated guard glared at him and held up his hand in a stop motion.

Luke flinched; heart rate increasing as he improved his grip on the door frame.

"Hang on." The guard continued with his conversation, "I'll look it up." He approached a bank of monitors and computers. Balancing the phone on his ear, he quickly typed a few words into the system. "Yeah, here it is, Noah Mayer…"

Luke skipped a breath.

"Lived here when he was a kid," the guard was saying. "Dad was a colonel."

"Excuse me!" Luke said again, louder this time.

…

Noah was surrounded. He sensed the other people there, sure… But he was too focused on swinging the ax; destroying the boards. Periodically he'd swap the ax for the spade; digging deep into the earth he'd uncovered beneath.

He'd long since removed his shirt and rolled up the legs of his jeans. The sun burned relentlessly and his body poured sweat. At times he was forced to stop and wipe his eyes, causing them to burn with salt and soil.

He was more thirsty and out of breath than he'd ever been in his life; but he couldn't stop. Now he'd started, the task was all that mattered.

People, strangers, were taking turns to speak to him; but their voices were muffled by the blood drumming in his ears and the loud crack every time the ax fell. Whenever he felt hands on his skin, trying to pull him back, he'd violently shrug them off.

He knew he must look like some maniac but he couldn't consider that. Kacy was here… somewhere… somewhere…

Hands touched him again and he swung sharply round; throwing the other body off balance. Noah turned just in time to recognize Luke's widening, panicked eyes. Instinctively Noah dropped the ax; gripping Luke's shoulders to hold him up; preventing the other man from toppling backwards into splintered boards that lay all over the disturbed earth.

Luke's hands found Noah's arms, digging into flesh as they held on tightly. They stared at each other; taking a moment to find their balance.

"Noah," Luke eventually observed. "You're filthy."

Noah frowned, breathlessly staring down at himself for the first time. Luke was right. His torso was caked in sun-baked dirt; his jeans ruined.

He took a deep breath of surprise; like waking up from unexpectedly falling asleep during the day.

"Oh," he whispered.

Luke laughed then; a sweet sound that puffed out like a penny-whistle.

"You need to stop this now," Luke gently told him.

Noah looked around at the complete chaos he'd made of the small back yard. Surrounding them were various army personal, Holden and a worried young woman with a small baby on her hip.

"I tried to stop him," she told Luke. "But I could tell he wasn't hearing me."

"It's okay now," Luke told her, without taking his eyes off Noah. "Noah, this is Iris. It's her house and you're destroying her yard."

"I'm sorry," Noah said; genuinely mortified to have caused her any distress.

"I know you are," Luke smiled.

"I'm trying to fix things," Noah told him.

"I know," Luke nodded.

Noah nodded too, releasing his hold on Luke and attempting to turn back to his task.

"No," Luke said; pulling Noah back to him.

"I have to!" Noah insisted.

"No," Luke said again. "Noah, listen to me-"

"She's here!" Noah tried once more to wriggle out of Luke's hold. "I know she is!"

Luke was shaking his head.

Noah wasn't sure how he was going to convince Luke. "I have to find-"

"Hello, Noah." The sweet female voice came from behind him.

Noah blinked.

Luke smiled at him and nodded in the direction of the house.

Noah turned slowly, gulping at the older version of Kacy standing, alive and well, in the kitchen doorway. Behind her, he could just make out a relieved looking Terry.

"Wow," Kacy smiled. "I always knew you'd grow up to be a looker!"

Noah opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find words. Instead he stared down at the various holes he'd dug around his feet.

"You're…" he gasped.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "When I left like I did, it was for my own safety. I was afraid of your father so I left everything behind. I changed my name. I was terrified and… I guess I never considered the position I'd left you in."

"You left?" Noah felt Luke's hand on his back and leaned back into it.

Kacy nodded. "My sister reported me missing and the police eventually tracked me down. They wanted me to press charges, but by then your father had already moved you both away. I didn't want anything more to do with him. I left things as they were."

Suddenly, Noah felt the full weight of the day's exhaustion as well as his relief. "My dad didn't murder you."

Kacy shook her head sadly. "No. But, like I said, I'm sorry. I should have made sure you were okay. You were just a little thing…"

Noah rubbed his face in both hands. "You're alive. I thought…"

Kacy stepped forward, carefully avoiding the broken wood, to pull Noah into her arms.

He closed his eyes; she smelled the same as he remembered.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered. "It wasn't your fault. My dad was…"

"I know," she replied into his neck; leaving a light kiss on his cheek as they parted.

"Will you come back to ours?" Noah asked, hopefully. "I'd really like to spend some time with you."

Kacy smiled brightly. "I'd love to."

"I'll drive you there," Terry said over Kacy's shoulder. She looked markedly at Noah, "You'll leave now with Luke and Holden? Give the nice lady her yard back?"

Noah lowered his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry. I'll pay for the damages."

He watched amazed as Terry led Kacy back through the house and only then did a realization dawn on him.

He turned quickly back to Luke, eyes wide.

"You're outside!" he yelled.

Luke jumped in shock at first but was quick to smile back and nod. "Anything for you, Bubby."

Noah threw his arms around Luke and they laughed as they hugged each other. Luke didn't seem to mind or even notice the dirt transferring to his own clothing. He kissed Noah's smudged cheeks.

"Take me home," Noah said.