Word Count: 8,830 (Total: 61,758)

Rating: T for language and some light sexual situations (all clothing stays on, but those who are squeamish about age gaps beware)

Date Submitted: 2/16/18

Chapter 7 – The Bumps in the Road

The next morning, after breakfast, Herc calls the childcare facility and asks to speak to the supervisor. The woman tells him Jason had a bad night that kept his roommate and all the children in the surrounding rooms awake, and assures him that she and Jason's caseworker are already pushing the early-release papers through.

"I'll ring you back when they're done," she says.

Herc thanks her and waits impatiently, unable to concentrate on anything else. Eventually, the call comes, and Herc is gone without telling Jazmine—who's been working in a spare room—what's going on. It's only on the way that he realizes he doesn't have a child seat installed in his truck, and that he's probably not going to be allowed to take Jason if the supervisor discovers that.

So he detours to a nearby shop and peruses the child car seats. Chuck's drift phantom is at a complete loss, which tells Herc that shopping for Jason's first car seat was something Jazmine had done alone. Fortunately, while Herc was not with his wife when she had purchased Chuck's first car seat, he was with her for the purchases of the subsequent seats and has an idea of what he's looking at and for. He studies a three-in-one deluxe model, figuring that by the time Jason outgrows it, his sister will be big enough to fit it.

"Having trouble finding something?"

Herc glances to his right, where a store employee is standing. The man has a badge that identifies him as a "Baby Expert," but given his youth—he looks like he's probably an unusually tall teenager—Herc seriously doubts it. There are times when Herc doesn't even consider himself to have any real experience with kids, simply because he only ever had one of his own, which had made assigning blame for things like broken items and crayon-decorated walls extremely easy.

The thought triggers the remembrance of a fact Herc put aside for decades and avoided until he forgot it—that his wife was pregnant when Scissure made landfall. Pregnant with their third child after miscarrying the second. Herc never told Chuck about the two siblings who never were, and the drift phantom's lack of reaction to either revelation suggests that Chuck—who might have been sad about the losses, angry about not being told sooner, or both—apparently never picked up on them in the drift.

Well, it's much too late to regret it. Perhaps Chuck not revealing Jason's existence is more fair than Herc originally thought.

"I'm trying to find a seat for my grandson," he tells the employee.

They briefly discuss Herc's truck, and the first stumbling block is encountered when Herc's asked Jason's height and weight. ". . . I don't actually know," he admits. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say I've only just met him. He's two years old and will be three in a month or so."

Unlike the supervisor at the childcare facility, the young man tactfully doesn't indicate what his feelings on Herc's absence from Jason's life are. "Would you say he's of an average size for his age?"

Herc considers that, trying to compare Jason to a twenty-three-year-old memory of Chuck. Chuck had been a late bloomer, however; it never bothered Herc, whose brother had been exactly the same but grown to be slightly bigger than him, but it bothered Chuck until the Jaeger Academy. The academy proved so demanding that Chuck's hormones had panicked and finally done what they should have at least once by then, and Chuck had returned home proud of his new—if a touch gangly—dimensions. The lankiness had gone in short order, though, and left behind a creature of great dexterity and surprising elegance.

When he wanted to be those things, at least, and not just a bull in a china shop.

Herc scratches the back of his neck. "Well, my son and my brother were both late starters, so he might be a bit smaller than average."

The young man helps him find a car seat he feels comfortable with, and after some more discussion Herc buys a minimalist stroller as well; unlike the car seat, the stroller is not likely to need special consideration beyond folding quickly and neatly to fit into tight places. No need for a deluxe model for that.

He puts the stroller in the bed of his truck and spends at least half an hour in the heat reading instructions for the car seat. They make no sense. He puts the car seat in the back of the cab anyway and finishes the trip to the childcare facility. When he explains the situation to the supervisor, she bustles right out and shows him how to put the car seat in properly.

"Thanks," he says, a bit embarrassed at how simple it turns out to be.

"You'll never hear a peep out of me," she replies. "A child's life is more important than an adult's ego. I respect anyone who shows that."

Herc follows the supervisor inside, and she tells the receptionist to provide him with the paperwork while she retrieves Jason. He signs what the other woman tells him to sign and then waits. In a few minutes the supervisor returns with a woman who's holding Jason, who's crying horrible, hoarse, hiccupping sobs. He's too weak to push away from her anymore, and instead just lets his head lay on her shoulder. When he sees Herc, he gets a little energy back and straightens up to reach out.

"Daddy!"

The woman lets Herc have his grandson, and the reunion is probably a sight, but Herc can't be bothered to care as he soothes Jason gently.

"You don't have to cry anymore, Jay—I've got you. We're going to go home."

"This is Bernice Yara," the supervisor says, indicating the new woman, "Jason's caseworker."

Herc doesn't like her, partly because he doesn't like that she's a barrier between him and his grandson, but mostly because Chuck's drift phantom doesn't like her a bit. Chuck and Herc dealt with a caseworker before—Chuck's, because a huge stink was raised a decade ago about Herc being a Jaeger pilot and possibly dying and leaving his son an orphan—and while Felicity Foster was nothing but kind and patient, her presence just wasn't something the Hansen men were worried about tolerating. Through his teenage years, Chuck resented her for what she symbolized—the power to take him from his home and father—and even when he reached his majority and she was no longer an authority he never forgave her. That resentment is definitely spilling over again.

Bernice gives Herc a once-over that Herc finds deeply irritating. "I don't like this," she tells him.

Herc is unmoved. "I don't care. If you keep my grandson from me the stress will kill him. I'm not going to let you do that."

"You're to bring him back if the court decides it."

Chuck's drift phantom scoffs, but Herc is much wiser. "Of course I will. And should he cark it as a result, I'll have the heads of everyone involved. Starting with you."

That said, he turns and strolls from the building. Jason huddles into his shoulder and sucks one thumb. Herc shushes him softly, kisses his head, and hums a lullaby that had once upon a time put the toddler's father to sleep in short order. At the truck, Herc doesn't even try to place Jason in the car seat. He chooses instead to sit in the driver's seat, recline the back, and run the air conditioning. Jason hiccups a little more, but at last drifts off. Obviously, Herc can't drive like that, so he closes his eyes against the sun.

Half an hour later, Herc awakens with a sore neck. He quickly gets the truck running to spare the battery and sits for another moment before looking down at Jason. The toddler is extremely asleep and drooling on Herc's shirt. Very slowly, Herc rights the seat and exits the truck; he crosses to the rear passenger door, opens it as quietly as he can, and eases his grandson into the car seat. Securing the five-point harness is time-consuming because it has to be done as carefully and silently as possible, but eventually it's over. Herc pushes the truck door to, then gives it a tiny shove to make it click into place. The truck rocks, but fortunately the car seat offers enough padding that Jason isn't jostled by it and so doesn't wake. With that done, getting back in the truck and leaving is much quicker.

Jason wakes up part of the way home. Herc hears about it immediately and has to pull into the emergency lane of the highway so he can twist around in his seat and offer comfort.

"Oï, oï," he calls, and reaches back with his left hand to take Jason's. "Don't cry, Jay. I'm right here."

Jason, who can't see him because of the high walls of the rear-facing car seat that provide protection from side impact, clutches his hand in a death grip. "Daddy!"

Clearly, Herc isn't going anywhere yet. He secures the truck, unbuckles with his right hand, and contorts himself over the center console and halfway into the back. He peers into the car seat and smiles at his grandson. "Hey there, Jay. See? You're all right now."

Jason lets go with one hand to suck his thumb some more. He's clearly still very stressed.

"We're going to go home," Herc tells him. "Mummy's waiting. But you have to let me go so I can drive."

There's hesitation, but Jason finally releases him. Herc strokes the toddler's head a few times, then pats his shins gently and says, "Off we go," before resituating himself, buckling up, and getting back on the road.

Other than an occasional, tentative "Daddy?" Jason is quiet for the remainder of the trip. Herc, starving, decides to run through a fast-food drive-thru and buy himself a meal even though it's practically lunch time and they aren't that far from home; he devours the burger in about three and half bites and then shares his fries and tea with his grandson.

He disposes of the evidence when he stops for fuel, and plays with a much happier Jason while he's waiting for the tank to fill. Then they're off again for the final leg of the journey.

Jason doesn't have the energy to get too excited about being home. In fact, he's quite lethargic now that he knows he's safe with family. Herc takes him inside, settles in the recliner, and pulls the corner of a throw over his back before turning on the television and settling in for some well-earned vegetation. Jazmine will find them in due time, and that's good enough.

Herc awakens to squirming, then flinches when Jason shouts, "Mummy!"

"Shh!" Jazmine scolds in response. Jason's weight vanishes from Herc's chest. Once more applying to her voice the Australian inflection she dropped after Jason was taken, she adds, "Don't wake your granddaddy!"

"Too late," Herc says, yawning. He thinks Jazmine might say something else, but she doesn't, and when he looks for her he sees her standing by his recliner, holding Jason tightly, staring unseeing through the far wall.

"I didn't make you any lunch," she eventually tells the toddler. "Would you like to help Mummy make you something to eat?" Jason nods against her shoulder, his thumb again in his mouth. Jazmine turns away and begins to sing in French a familiar children's song; after a moment, Herc recognizes the tune as "You Are My Sunshine."

Chuck's drift phantom is surprised. Apparently, Jazmine—so proud of her French heritage—had in the past only ever sung traditional French children's songs. The English ones had been left to Chuck.

Probably, Herc figures, singing an English song in French is the compromise that Jazmine decided on when Chuck went to Hong Kong.

"Oï, don't fix him anything," he calls toward the kitchen as he remembers his fast-food stop. "On the way home I got a meal at Macca's and split it with him. We can share mine."

"Ah," Jazmine says, clearly to Jason, "Granddaddy's spoiling your meals and teaching you bad habits. That didn't take long at all."

The comment brings a smile to Herc's face. He didn't intend it, but that really is what he did.

"In that case lunch is ready, so come on over."

Jason's high chair is gone thanks to the DHA, so since they're sharing Herc's meal, Jason gets to sit in his granddad's lap. It provides an opportunity for the two to bond more, which they most definitely do.

Jazmine sits nearby and, with no need to supervise her son, takes her time eating.

Herc's next self-appointed task is to deal with the bureaucracy and figure out what needs to be done to get Jason's pedigree properly established. At the same time, however, Jazmine's first day in court comes. As paranoid as she is, she wants Herc to stay at home with Jason, but he won't have that; he—and Chuck's drift phantom, too—wants to be with her, and he'll absolutely pay for someone who she trusts to watch Jason if that's what it takes. So Jazmine calls Abigail and schedules everything, and Herc has the money to pay the woman in cash when they leave Jason at her home.

"Very reputable, for such a small operation," Jazmine tells Herc in an aside as he surveils the property with suspicion. "When I asked for references she had pages of phone numbers and testimonials. There are cameras in the rooms where the children stay, and no child is ever removed from an assigned room or the property unless it's done by a parent or—God forbid—an ambulance; there are even rules in place for the circumstances in which police may remove a child. I have login information for the camera system and can check in for a live feed at any time, and can request footage I missed when I pick up. Jason's never come home with mysterious injuries or habits. I'm sure we'll have to make adjustments once word gets out, but until then this is fine."

Once word gets out that Jason is Chuck's son, that is.

A woman Jazmine identifies as Abigail comes outside to greet them. Jason is distressed to be abandoned, but Jazmine is entirely unmoved by the big tears on his lashes. "Jason, you know Miss Abigail and the children here. You know you're safe. Mummy will come get you later, like always."

"Don' go!" the toddler squeals in Abigail's arms, and starts to cry outright.

"I'll be back later," is all Jazmine says. She turns and heads toward the truck. She doesn't look back.

Herc makes his own promises and then follows. In the truck, he glances at Jazmine and sees how tight and unhappy she is. He fulfills his manly duty and tells her, "She'll be apples."

Chuck must have voiced the very Australian phrase once or twice, because Jazmine doesn't blink. Instead, she sighs and looks out her window. "Not soon enough."

It's as they're walking into the courtroom that Herc is glad all over again that he rescued some of Jazmine's clothes from the DHA. Probably unlike most—perhaps even all—of those who came before her, she's able to wear one of her business suits that's slightly modified to give the baby room, present herself with dignity, and show that she's far from the fearmongering image of an illegal that's typically presented by politicians.

Herc's sense of victory, however, is short-lived. The proceedings are slow, and given the temperature in the courtroom the air conditioning has apparently failed. Jazmine's in one of those frequent-nap phases pregnant women endure and despite her best efforts to stay awake is drifting in and out of sleep. She's sweating and uncomfortable on top of the stress of sitting through court. The judge is not impressed, but Herc's—and Chuck's drift phantom's—irritation at the lack of acknowledgment of what is, in fact, an atypical health condition is soothed somewhat by Evelyn Callaghan's constant attentiveness; she's not afraid to ask for recesses, and her expression and tone make it clear that she doesn't give a shit about how annoyed the judge is getting.

It comes to a head near the end of the first day. It's midafternoon, and outside the sun is scorching; inside is stifling. No place is safe. Jazmine is sweating as profusely as everyone else and breathing through her mouth to try to get enough cool air for both herself and the baby. She's in visible distress and clearly needs a glass of cold water and some location with functioning air conditioning to recuperate. Evelyn takes note of all this and requests a break.

"No," the judge responds. "I've had enough of this. She'll deal with it like the rest of us. Besides," he says with a bit of a sneer, "if she plans to stay in Australia she may as well get used to it."

"That's outrageous," Evelyn hisses. "Since when were any of Australia's pregnant women forced to suffer these conditions just because they live here and plan to stay on? What's done to one must be done to all," she snaps, "else the bias is inarguable."

The judge is not moved. "We'll be done in five minutes. She can wait."

Except that five becomes thirty. Jazmine somehow holds on, but there's no doubting how bad things are in the courtroom; even as a local, Herc feels as though he's going to pass out, yet still manages to derive a nasty sort of satisfaction from seeing the judge clearly suffering as well in his robes.

"Cock," he mutters.

Finally, it's over, and everyone is allowed to leave. Jazmine gets to her feet beside Herc, only to collapse. He's barely able to catch her. He sits down again and lifts her into his lap, cradling her as Evelyn and Raleigh lean over him from different directions. Raleigh, who's made another trip from the United States to show support, uses a phone to briefly film his sister's condition before saying to Herc, "It's probably vasodilation caused by the heat. She stood up too fast and all the blood drained out of her head."

Raleigh disappears for a few minutes and then returns with a paper towel that he's soaked in water from a fountain in the hall beyond the courtroom. It's very cold compared to the temperatures of air and skin, and Jazmine flinches and shivers before coming around. Raleigh croons to her in French, which is probably a good idea given the disorientation in her eyes.

After another couple of minutes she declares herself well and gets to her feet again, but slowly. Herc hands her off to her brother with advice to take their time coming out—he needs to get the truck cooled down.

Once in the truck, Jazmine decides to ride in the back with Jason, who—when they pick him up—is not as distressed as he was at the state-run childcare facility, but still distressed. Raleigh sits up front with Herc, working diligently on his phone the whole ride, though he does seem happy to spare a few minutes for Jason.

"It's too bad you came out of Chuck," he sing-songs to the toddler.

He also accepts without protest a swat from his sister, who says, "It's too bad you came out of Richard."

By the next morning, Herc finds out what Raleigh was doing on his phone. It's all over the news that when the pregnant, allegedly illegal-alien mother of both of Australian hero Chuck Hansen's children went to court about her immigration status, the judge had failed to accommodate her pregnancy.

"It's just a fact of the condition that a woman's needs increase," a women's rights advocate says in a dual interview with a court representative. "Pregnancy places additional stress on a woman's body, and to not provide for things like extra restroom breaks and especially climate control endangers the life of the mother and especially the child; a speedy trial is useless if she's in such distress that she can't focus on the proceedings. This video is an embarrassment. It doesn't matter in the slightest whether she's an illegal alien or whether her child is Australian—this is a humanitarian failure on the part of Australia's courts."

The court rep is falling all over himself trying to explain why Jazmine was treated so poorly, and no one is buying it. ". . . As soon as word got out about this incident, of course the judge was found to be biased and removed immediately from Miss Lapierre's case—"

"And the climate control system is being repaired?" the advocate demands.

"Of course it is, but that's not a simple matter of the court snapping its fingers. Miss Lapierre's case has been put on a very brief hold while the repairs are going on, and as soon as they're complete her court dates will be rescheduled appropriately."

"Ugh," Jazmine mutters as she emerges from the hall that leads to the bedrooms. "Now I have to adjust my work schedule."

"You were being mistreated," Herc tells her.

She goes into the kitchen to start on breakfast. "I've been mistreated all my life. A hot, humid courtroom is just a new twist on an old theme."

By the afternoon, word has gotten far enough around for every dingbat on the street to have an opinion. In the interest of being unbiased, equal airtime is given to supporters, opponents, and the undecided.

"Her attorney's right—it's not equal treatment. She shouldn't be treated differently from other women in Australia just because it's presumed—or even if it's true that—she isn't here legally. We're better than that."

"I haven't really thought about it, so no comment."

"She's an illegal, not a citizen. She doesn't get citizen's rights just because she maybe rooted an Australian citizen and got herself knocked up the duff. As far as I'm concerned, she shouldn't even be getting a trial when it's on the taxpayers' coin."

"Bloody ignorant bogan," Herc grumbles.

Because it doesn't matter whether she's a citizen or who she might have had sex with. While the Australian Constitution provides only a very brief, rather mediocre list of individual rights compared to America and other countries, what other laws that are in place were written up in a very specific way; they don't differentiate between the rights of people who are legal, illegal, or prisoners, so the simple fact that Jazmine is on Australian soil entitles her to at least humane treatment. And she's been paying taxes on her business for years, so if that's supposed to be some sort of metric of entitlement to fair treatment in court, she's earned at least that.

By the next morning, it gets really out of hand. Young women from all over the country are beginning to casually point out that they've given birth to Chuck's children too, but they aren't looking for favors. Or, rather, if some illegal woman is getting favors, then they should all be getting favors.

In the interest of fairness, of course.

Herc immediately calls Darryl. "How's the paperwork on Jason's birth certificate?"

Darryl doesn't have to ask why he's suddenly interested. "It's being processed. I'm trying to hurry it along, but some desks are more backed up than others."

There's also a mess of journalists pretty much camped in front of the duplex. Jazmine more or less doesn't go out at all, spending most of her time inside doing work or out in the back with Jason. Fortunately, the privacy fence around the yard is a little over three meters high, so the added inconvenience of finding a ladder to get pictures and ask questions keeps most of them from harassing her. Those who bother generally find themselves the target of water balloons or paintballs, courtesy of one Raleigh Becket.

It's because of those journalists that Herc doesn't need Darryl to let him know when the paperwork at last gets through two days later. Someone in the New South Wales Department of Human Services has apparently leaked to them both that Jason's birth records have been corrected and that the paternity test submitted to make the correction links him to Herc. Herc knows this because when he goes out to do some grocery shopping the truck is swarmed as it emerges from the garage and questions about whether Herc was aware of Chuck's relationship are shouted into the glass at him.

It's annoying, but Herc is set to ignore them until he spots some intrepid souls taking advantage of the open garage door to invite themselves into his home. That Herc can't abide, so he rolls down his window and leans out to bark at the intruders, "Get the bloody fuck out of my house, you dickheads!"

They aren't terribly impressed by him, but they're much more impressed by Raleigh, who emerges into the garage from the house with something in one hand. He's blocking the short stairs that lead to the door, so there's a standoff of sorts until Raleigh lifts his hands and pulls something from something else that's cylindrical in shape. The garage is dark compared to the outdoors, so Herc can't tell what it is until the younger man says calmly, "Have any of you ever experienced a stun grenade?"

The garage empties out promptly, and Raleigh uses his pin hand to close the garage door.

Herc resolves to say something after the shopping trip, but in the meantime takes advantage of the journalists' alarm. He rolls up his window and gets started on his errand.

"Are you mad?" Herc asks when he's back in the house. The journalists are still unsettled, so they were wary of bothering him upon his return; he was able to get back into the garage without any trouble.

Raleigh doesn't look up from his phone. "When it comes to my family, sir? One hundred percent."

"Where is that thing?"

"Where Jason can't get his hands on it."

That's acceptable, Herc supposes. He doubts that Jazmine is so ignorant as to not know what a grenade—any grenade—looks like, and doubts even more that she's stupid enough to play with something that she might think looks like one. "Where did you get it from?"

"I borrowed it from the strike teams' supply closet."

"Put it back before you do something to get yourself arrested and make her situation worse."

"Yes sir."

The air conditioning in the courthouse is fixed and someone calls to tell Jazmine when her next court date is. Additionally, she's promised bottled water and snacks, plus as many recesses as she may need to be comfortable.

"I'm personally seeing to this," the representative promises firmly. "By law, your immigrant status needs to be addressed, but is entirely irrelevant when it comes to how you should be treated. What was done to you is by no measure the way the court treats anyone in Australia, and that judge is being reprimanded."

"I appreciate that," Jazmine answers. She sounds less than convinced of his sincerity, but doesn't cause any trouble. "I'll see you then, I suppose?"

"That's correct. I look forward to it."

The journalists get their balls back by the following afternoon and ask the burning question about what Herc—who just wants to collect his damned mail—has to say about the many women who claim to also have given birth to Chuck's children. Thanks to Derrek's advice to get the paternity test done on both children, Herc is able to be absolutely honest.

"Jazmine submitted to a paternity test. I personally witnessed the gathering of the DNA evidence from both her and her son, and as you know the tests have come back positive, which means that both of her children belong to my son. And since she's done this, I expect the rest of the women who make the same claims she has to contact my attorney and arrange for a paternity test of their own. Should their tests come back positive too, that's when I'll start paying attention to what they say."

"You could've said it a bit gentler than that," Darryl tells him later, after the interview is aired.

"No," Herc replies. "Because they're all liars and I know it as well as they do."

Darryl sighs. "Sometimes it's difficult to be your friend, Herc."

"I don't deserve you, love," Herc assures him.

He does, however, do one thing: He gives Chuck's drift phantom a nudge and then studies the women who appear on the television. After all, if Jazmine managed to slip under Herc's radar for so long, other women could have easily done the same.

Chuck's drift phantom concedes that in the time between returning from Kodiak and choosing Jazmine, Chuck did date many of the women making the assertions; however, it avows with absolute certainty that Jazmine was the only one he slept with.

Sure enough, the court representative is standing out in front of the courthouse to greet Jazmine when Herc drops her and her brother there. "Good morning, Miss Lapierre. One moment, please . . ." He turns and leans into the truck to hand Herc a piece of paper about the size of a business card. "Someone should have informed you last time that Miss Lapierre is entitled to one free space in the court's car park in the back. The guard at the gate may want to see that you have it when you go in so he knows he doesn't have to issue you a different card, but you don't need to turn it over to him until you leave. This way you needn't pay the parking fee."

That certainly would've been useful last time, given the nightmare it had been to find day-long parking on the street. But instead of being scathing, Herc simply accepts the card and thanks him.

When he gets into the courtroom he finds Jazmine looking deeply put upon, but he's not terribly concerned because Evelyn is clearly amused.

"I hate it when they overcompensate for something," Jazmine mutters when he asks if she's all right. "So some dumbass fucked up. So what? It's too late to undo it. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

Jazmine's court dates are set relatively close together, and Herc begins to feel the stress of splitting his time so narrowly between work, court, and the idiot journalists who for some reason are still nagging him about the other women who claim that Chuck fathered their children. There's also Jason, but fortunately the toddler is less a burden and more a nice diversion from the strain of everything else.

"You don't have to go to court with me, you know," Jazmine points out over supper one night.

"Yes I do," he replies. "People need to see that you have my full support, and that they'll make an enemy of me right quick if they harass you. It keeps them off your back and keeps the number of simpering, lying cunts off my back. Those other women talk a good game but none of them have been in touch with Darryl, and those he's able to contact promise to call him back with a time and date suitable for their schedules . . . only they never do. Letting myself be seen at your side shows everyone else that I do give a damn that my son had children I didn't know about, so those women who whine about being ignored have that much less of a leg to stand on."

"Herc, you're inconveniencing yourself in a quasi-private setting because of public discourse. Who Jason's father is has no bearing whatsoever on the meat of my case. You'd show plenty of support just dropping me off and picking me up."

Herc gives her a flat look. "I'm going."

She frowns. "It's not safe anymore to leave Jason at Abigail's. Who's going to watch him?"

"Mako will," Raleigh puts in from where he's sitting on the couch. He's watching the news while he eats. "I already asked, and you know that."

"Raleigh," Jazmine grinds out, irritated.

He rolls his head back and over to look at her. Or at least in the general direction of the table. "You had someone else in mind? Herc and I are going to court with you, and that's the end of that discussion."

Herc cocks his head, puzzled. "Is Mako a problem?"

"Mako has no dog in the fight," Raleigh explains before Jazmine can do more than open her mouth. "She's already expressed to me her willingness to help in whatever way we may need and Jazmine knows that, but Jazmine doesn't want to inconvenience her."

"I'm sensing a pattern," Herc notes dryly.

Jazmine scowls.

"Mako and I are copilots," Raleigh reminds her. "You're her sister too. There's also Tendo, who has a little girl and already told me he can't wait to corrupt a child with so many connections to people he knows. Collectively, the entire PPDC headquarters would protect Jason, and you damn well know it."

Jazmine's scowl deepens. But that, it turns out, really is the end of that discussion.

The next court date covers Jazmine's murder in defense of herself and her children. Herc wasn't terribly reassured by the positively devilish expression on Tendo's face when they placed Jason in Mako's care, but he can now tell that it's going to be a long day and is glad that his grandson is with people he trusts. He figures that with a bit of effort he can overwrite whatever unpleasant things Tendo manages to teach the toddler.

"This was the cold-blooded murder of an Australian citizen," the DHA prosecutor says for what must be the tenth or twelfth time in three hours.

Evelyn objects and points out that the pictures of the crime scene taken by the police show that the man was not invited into Jazmine's home—he broke in and then attempted to abduct her child.

"That's speculation," is the accusation. "With the other party dead, we have only Miss Lapierre's word on what he was doing there."

"Well it's a bit odd that a man with no bad intentions would trouble himself to break in through the window of a toddler's bedroom and not, say, knock on the front door," Evelyn tells the judge. "We know from the pictures that Jazmine's room is nearer the street, so even if the man were disorientated from a beating or car accident, wouldn't he approach the first window he saw—one of Jazmine's bedroom windows—and break in that way? Why go back along the side of the house to her child's room?"

"The man was an Australian national."

"Fuck's sake!" Herc snarls. He's rewarded with a massive dig in his ribs from Darryl's elbow. "I don't care if he was the second coming of Jesus! He trespassed and forced entry into her home!"

"Mister Hansen," the judge says, calm, "you will edit your language and refrain from any further outbursts or you will be held in contempt of court and barred entry here."

Thanks to Chuck's drift phantom giving unnecessary encouragement, Herc almost says, "Whatever." The only thing that stops him is a fear of being separated from Jazmine and Jason. For that reason, he's able to hold his tongue for the rest of the day. But only barely.

The prosecutor finally gets around to his goal and suggests that Jazmine be deported; Jason, the son of an Australian citizen and born on Australian soil, would be taken back into State custody. He points out that he thinks Jason being turned over to Herc was a bad idea, but tries to come across as magnanimous by further suggesting that a formal evaluation would determine whether Herc truly has the ability to raise Jason himself.

Upon hearing that, Jazmine breaks—one-handed—the pen she's twirling in her fingers. She stays silent, but her expression is clear: no one is taking Jason from her.

No one.

After the court is adjourned for the day, Herc provides his friends with an earful.

"It was self-defence!" he snaps.

"It's not that she defended herself," Derrek explains. "It's the result of her defending herself. The question is whether she really had to kill him."

"She's pregnant and was trying to protect a toddler," Herc counters. "She couldn't afford to wait until he'd gotten outside the window to confirm that yes, he was definitely going to take her child from her and probably sell the boy into slavery!"

"But she's illegal, Herc," Darryl tells him patiently. "The immigration policy is strict on this."

"A kaiju made her illegal!" Herc snaps. "It's not as though she bloody wanted to get trapped at the other end of the planet from where she'd been living! How can there not be an exception for something like that?!"

"There just isn't, mate," Darryl replies with a sigh. "The law was written before the kaiju."

And it's highly likely that no one else who might also have been illegal because of a kaiju would have had the ability to get the counsel necessary to change it. It's hard to say if any public defender would care enough—or have the time—to look into the matter instead of just getting such a person a gentle, helpful deportation.

"Besides," Darryl adds, "why didn't she ever ask for help? Why didn't she go to the police? Even if she was afraid of being arrested or the like, why didn't she ask Chip to help her once she trusted him? It looks bad."

Herc can feel his blood pressure rising. "She didn't ask him to help her because by the time she trusted him that much she'd fallen in love with him and didn't want to leave. Since when was that criminal?"

"Come on, mate," Derrek soothes. "I know it's harsh, but it's reality."

"It's bloody fucking stupid, is what it is," Herc snarls. "There are illegals out there who've killed people for the money in their pockets, but they go after her because she had the strength and skill to defend herself and her child. She knew she'd done nothing wrong, so she didn't run. Jesus fucking Christ . . ." He snorts when his friends exchange a look. "You two don't get it. You've never had children. You and everyone else are suggesting that she should have feared getting caught by immigration, stood back, watched a man who'd broken into her house walk into the night with her son, and never reported the incident. And if she'd done that and you'd heard about it, you would've ridiculed her for being a shit mother and not acting in defence of her child. She'd be fucked either way."

Herc shakes his head, angry. "Are you out of your fucking heads? She had faith that the state would look at her entire record and cut her a break; maybe give her a slap on the wrist and require her to get new copies of her identification right away and fill out an appeal to stay here for twenty years so that her child would have stability during one of the most vulnerable phases of his life. At the very least she was sure they'd have the decency to deport her and her child. Together. Instead, the state's going to separate and traumatise both. What the fuck for? Aren't there enough kids out there who've lost their parents? Do you dickheads really think the Commonwealth is going to be able to do for Jason what they won't let his mother do?"

"You'll have Jason," Derrek points out. "He'll be with family."

"God forbid!" Herc barks. "I think I did well enough fucking up one kid's existence—no reason I should be given a second crack at it. Which is exactly why that cunt wants a 'formal evaluation,' since you obviously missed that part. He doesn't want me raising Jason—he wants New South Wales to do it."

"Chip turned out fine, Herc," Darryl assures him. "I wish you'd see that . . ."

Herc finally realizes he can't make them understand. They'll never be able to grasp the strength of Chuck's feelings for Jazmine, or how he would have done everything he could—including not helping her get replacements of her identification—to keep her with him in Australia. It wouldn't have been done with a malicious intent, merely with the same mindset of a child who refuses to cooperate to avoid something unpleasant. A passive resistance. But it would have forced her into virtually the same situation she's currently in. The only difference would have been that if Chuck were present he could have spoken for himself, and had it been necessary he likely would have freely left Australia to be with Jazmine and Jason . . . and cheerfully humiliated Australia by letting everyone know why. Chuck's leaving would have upset Herc, but Herc would have quite happily said nothing about his son prioritizing Jason having both parents. Because it's the right thing for both of them to do. The responsible thing.

And when it comes to it, Herc is a big boy and can look after himself just fine. It's even considered a good thing, normally, when a child leaves home to have his own life. The only difference for Herc would have been drift-related urges to stay close, which Chuck would have felt as well and which they could have discussed and reassured each other about. It's also likely that Chuck—if he'd chosen to leave—would have settled in New Zealand, and that would have been tolerable. Hell, Herc might have gone along and just commuted back into Sydney for work, or had the PPDC move to New Zealand. That would have embarrassed the hell out of Australia.

With no desire to further waste his breath, Herc turns away from Derrek and Darryl with a dismissive flap of one hand and looks for Jazmine. She's quietly facing off with two immigration officers. Raleigh is looming over her, coldly staring the men down. As he gets close, Herc can hear the conversation.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Jazmine says. She's extremely calm, but for some reason it sets Herc's defensive alarms off. Whatever in her voice that's changed he can't tell, but he figures out that it's the dangerous calmness Raleigh had warned him about. She's ready to fight, hand to hand, and so is her brother. And if not fight outright, they still won't tolerate hands being laid on them.

"You're an illegal alien," one of the immigration officers tells her. "You're not welcome in Australia."

"I've taken responsibility for her," Herc tells the men as he joins the little group. "She hasn't done a bloody thing wrong since then. You're not entitled to arrest her, or whatever the fuck you think you're going to do. And if you try it, you'll be arresting me first."

The two men look at him, both visibly unimpressed. The officer who'd spoken before says, "You aren't her official sponsor, which means her continuing presence without a monitor is unacceptable. PPDC power and prestige doesn't extend so far as to magically sign paperwork, Mister Hansen—right now, you're just an unrelated citizen."

"The Australia I'm a citizen of," he counters, "would never treat even a violent criminal this way. She has rights, babysitter or no. Now either arrest me first, give me the paperwork no one's bothered to mention before now, or the both of you fuck off."

The men share a glance, but retreat in silence. Raleigh relaxes immediately and reaches out to hug Jazmine, who's still tense and staring after them.

"Easy, Mimi," Raleigh murmurs. "Think of the baby."

After a moment Jazmine deflates, her motions jerky as though she's resisting her own efforts. She lowers her head against his chest and exhales long and slow.

Raleigh rubs her back and focuses on Herc. "She needs to go home—or somewhere quiet and secluded—so she can calm down."

Herc gives him the keys to the truck. "Here. It seems I need to sign papers or something."

He returns to the courtroom and finds Evelyn and Darryl conversing as they gather papers. "Oï, Darro— Sorry," he thinks to offer in an aside to Evelyn, who patiently inclines her head. He turns back to face Darryl, who's paused to look at him. "Jazmine just had some immigration officers after her, apparently because no one's sponsored her as of yet."

Darryl nods. "At this point, the government won't release her on her own recognisance. She needs someone to be her minder. You haven't signed anything?"

"I signed to bail her out of gaol, but that was it."

"Then I'll—" Darryl stops to watch Evelyn set some papers down on the table. ". . . Oh."

She smiles. "Jazmine failed to mention until recently that she's still without a sponsor. I prepared these for you, Mister Hansen, so I'm glad you came back before I had to chase you down."

She shows Herc where he needs to sign, and once that's done Darryl takes the papers for filing. "If you're confronted again in the next few days," he tells Herc, "have them contact me. They may insist on detaining Jazmine until they get confirmation that the papers are being processed. They don't have to do it, but if they decide to then they don't need a legal excuse, so don't get your knickers twisted."

"Could they keep her?"

"In theory, yes, until the paperwork goes through. So you and she should both just shut up and comply, if it comes to it." Darryl looks straight at Herc and says, "She is a criminal, Herc—it's illegal to be in Australia without a valid visa, and hers ran out over a year ago—and the DHA is entitled to treat her like one, at a level appropriate to her crime. The near-abduction, self-defence issue you were foaming about earlier has no bearing on that. They are two separate things."

Herc nods reluctantly and heads out of the courtroom.

When they get home, Jazmine retreats to what's become the bedroom she shares with Jason. Raleigh goes after her, only to reappear and do some foraging in the kitchen, then disappear again with some food and water. He returns a short time later and says to Herc as he settles on the couch, "I got her to snack on some veggies and she's trying to nap now, so don't get too loud. I think happy noises would be fine," he adds with a nod at Jason, who's reclined in the crook of Herc's arm, "but we don't want to shout or cry or break anything."

"Understood." Herc looks at Jason, who's yawning. "Well, it looks like that won't be an issue for the time being." He checks the weather on his phone and grimaces. "It might be good for all of us to take a nap so we don't have to fiddle with the air conditioning."

"Shouldn't it be cooling down this time of day?"

"Remember you're in Australia, mate," Herc tells him. "Typical summer temperatures in Aus range from 'hot' to 'bloody hot' to 'hell would be an improvement.' The mercury won't drop noticeably until dark."

Raleigh wrinkles his nose, then blinks. "That's right—the seasons are reversed."

Herc adjusts his recliner to its reclined position and makes himself comfortable. Jason waits patiently for him to stop moving, then shifts deeper into Herc's arm and props his head against Herc's chest. Blue eyes close, and after a few minutes the toddler slips into dreams. "The first real winter I ever experienced was in Alaska," Herc says. "Never had a cold Christmas before."

Raleigh grabs the comforter from the back of the couch and gets up briefly to drape it around Jason, though he arranges it in such a way that Herc can claim some if he wants. "You've never been up in the mountains here? Or to New Zealand?"

Herc snorts. "I didn't say that. I'm just not a fan of the cold. Attending Jaeger Academy forced me to deal with it, and I was there when Christmas came round."

"I see." Raleigh takes the knit throw from the back of the couch and drapes it over himself as he stretches out on the piece of furniture. "What'd you think of a white Christmas? Or was there one?"

"It came in at an angle."

Raleigh grins. "Not sideways? A mild winter, then."

"God forbid," Herc says, then admits, "It was novel. First snowball fight of my life."

"There's a tragedy," is the mock-serious response. "It's always been strange to me, how kids grow up never experiencing snowy winters and snowball fights."

The afternoon turns into storytime, with Herc telling his junior tales from his deployments. Raleigh shares some childhood events, providing Herc with a little more insight into Jazmine's character.

"She wanted so badly to be like Yancy, so she'd always push herself to the point of exhaustion. She'd run herself down and get sick. But," Raleigh adds, "that helped make her tougher than most girls. Women," he amends with a nod. "She was sick so often as a child that as a teenager she didn't get sick at all that I remember . . . I imagine that other than regional illnesses, she probably doesn't get sick these days." He nods again, at the sleeping toddler in Herc's arm. "The rugrat's more robust than most two-year-olds I've met, so I'm sure he dined on good breastmilk. Lots of antibodies and such."

Herc has never thought about it, and says as much.

Raleigh chuckles. "I must sound like I'm trying to sell her at auction. But . . ." He frowns. "Because of how we were raised, she was always judged more negatively than Yancy and me. Too aggressive, too boyish . . . But she is a woman, and there are times when she can't help but be one, whether or not she wants to."

Herc thinks of the video of her very feminine snuggle against Chuck—the one that had seemed to surprise Chuck as well.

"I'm not saying I think you've been judging her, sir," Raleigh says, "but she can make even the least biased person give her a side eye. I just want you to know that she's the best mother you could want for your grandchildren, if you'd given it any thought before."

Herc shrugs the shoulder of his unoccupied arm. "Not since Scissure. I preached it often enough that Chuck saw my logic and agreed that it wasn't the time for him to be having kids." He frowns a little and glances down at Jason. ". . . His story I know. But . . ." Herc looks at Raleigh. "I just realised I don't know why Jazmine would have let herself get pregnant a second time, knowing Chuck was leaving. I'd think they'd both be extra careful after Jason came about . . ."

Raleigh sighs. "Hard to say. I can't imagine that Chuck didn't know, though, unless all the condoms were here and she put holes in them."

Herc frowns again. Leaving the condoms in Jazmine's home would've prevented Herc from coming across them while cleaning the house or the like, but if that were the case, it wasn't fair to Chuck. "Would she do that?"

"Dunno. I know she's too practical and realistic to do it, but I also know she's too emotional to not do it."

Chuck obviously wasn't aware of Jazmine's pregnancy, given the drift phantom's lackluster response to the revelation at the time. But the drift phantom indicates he had been aware it was possible she might end up pregnant after his last visit before Hong Kong, and that he had been okay with that because Jazmine—the one who'd be doing all the childcare, whether Chuck was gone for a few months, a few years, or forever—had been okay with that. Herc takes that to mean their final night together was a mutually agreed-upon, contraceptive-free one; no effort was made to either encourage or prevent his granddaughter's conception.

Raleigh doesn't seem to be judging his sister either way, so rather than speak up Herc just moves on. "So she wanted to be like Yancy? Not you?"

Raleigh snorts. "Absolutely not. Jazmine and I have been at war pretty much all our lives. Largely because of me," he concedes. "I've never been a good brother to her, let alone a good big brother. She was bullied as a child, but I was the worst torment in that part of her life. That's one reason why she says such terrible things to me."

"Oh?"

"I've seen your expression," Raleigh explains with a shrug. "I know it bothers you."

Herc's mouth slants. "I don't think I have to tell you what it's like to not have a brother anymore."

"You don't have to tell her, either," Raleigh reminds him. "She lost Yancy too. And then me." He looks at Herc. "I abandoned her, sir. I told you she takes things like that hard. She says what she does to try to protect herself in case I leave again—not to hurt me, but to remind herself that I can't be trusted. But no matter what she says, she isn't going to leave me, and I'm sure as hell not leaving her again."

To Be Continued in . . . Chapter 8 – The World's Worst Proposal

Four boxes later, Herc's hand closes around another small, velvety box. He pulls it out and finds it's also of the sort used to protect a ring. When he opens it, a thin, folded piece of paper greets him. He removes and glances at it, determining from its fragility and the numbers that are almost bleeding through that it's a receipt. With it out of the way, he finds two notches in the insert. One is empty. The other holds a plain silver band. Herc can't recall off the top of his head what metal Jazmine's engagement ring is made of, plus it's vanishingly rare for a wedding band to not be gold, so despite Chuck's drift phantom's excitement he unfolds the receipt to check. Sure enough, it's a set.

Well, whatever the color, he knows what to do with it.

Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:

" … I got a meal at Macca's and split it with him. …"

This should be relatively self-explanatory with the context, but to be clear, "Macca's" is the exclusively Australian nickname for McDonald's. If only in a casual context, Australian English seems to shorten a number of words, and McDonald's is ubiquitous enough that it got the treatment too. Most McDonald's signs in Australia do spell out the entire name; however, in the past some locations have had their signage officially switched to Macca's for a short time, and McDonald's Australia's Twitter handle is "maccas."

Fun fact: Even if you aren't in Australia, if you google "Macca's" the local snack-pack at the top of the search results will give you the geographically nearest McDonald's restaurants.

—

If you find this fic to be somewhat fine, please take the time to drop me a line!

~RN (LS)