~oOo~

Incacha followed his sentinel down; his intervention had been the only reason Jim Ellison survived the fall. Twisting and turning their bodies to avoid collision with the most deadly of the rocks as the river carried them away, the Indian warrior did his best to guide his sentinel to the place where he'd face his destiny.

The sound up ahead was deafening, and Incacha braced himself for what was to come. Wash from the white-water pitched and heaved before surging up against the smooth granite cliff face; the sheer volume that was being forced into such a small opening at the base of the cliff gave it nowhere else to go. Then the river disappeared. Driven underground by the lay of the land, it wound its way through the unyielding darkness before eventually returning to the light. Calmed by a broader, smoother channel, brightened by a dusting of speckled light reflecting upon its surface, the river slowed and graciously gave up its captives.

Breathing hard, Incacha pulled his sentinel from the current and waded through the shallows, dragging Ellison's limp body to shore. To the naked eye, the man no longer appeared to be breathing. But to Incacha, he was in limbo. Touching the handcuffs lightly with his fingertips and breaking their bond, Incacha picked them up and tossed them onto the river. There was nothing else he could do now but wait. Only time, and the will to live that infused the spirit of the sentinel, would guide his journey back to the living world.

~oOo~

Brave people were allowed to cry, weren't they? He'd tried so hard to hold back the tears, to be courageous and strong, just like Bagheera. But they just wouldn't stop rolling down his cheeks. Lucas had long given up talking to him and now just sat on the top stair with his face buried in his curls and his arms wrapped tightly around him. The man on the other side of the door had stopped saying he was sorry to Lucas and he'd also stopped crying. There was no more sound, except the snuffles from his runny nose and the funny hitching sound coming from his chest.

And he'd tried, tried so hard to be brave.

~oOo~

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Robert yelled, his anger mounting to near uncontrollable levels. He'd watched the cop jump and watched his bullet completely miss its target and ricochet off the rocks; he'd watch himself once again fail. While the likelihood was that the cop was now being served up as fish food, the point was that it hadn't gone down like it was meant to happen. He'd lost control of the situation, and losing control made him feel more vulnerable than he was capable of dealing with. The symmetry of power needed to be brought back into balance and it would start with the one person who had thrown the whole thing out in the first place – Lucas.

Bursting through the door, the first thing that raked past Wilder's line of vision was his brother. Curled up and motionless, his face was buried deep in the sofa cushions. The second, and strangely awe-inspiring sight, was the drug kit, upended and strewn across the kitchen table. Robert smiled a smile of the wickedly insane. Heroin; it was the perfect solution to his problem. While he might have the child in his possession, and it was true that the boy could be used as a pawn to force Lucas to obey and to submit, it wasn't the best answer. Lucas would, as he always did, be waiting, biding his time for the opportunity to escape; when he found that opening, he'd take it and he'd take the child with him. That thought alone sent shivers down Robert's spine. While he was captivated with the idea of being reacquainted with his nephew on a more intimate level, Lucas was a nearly a man. All but gone was the boyish charm that sent him spiralling into complete and utter utopia. Lucas still had his place and a purpose in his life, but the delights of youth were second to none and his nephew needed to be controlled before that ecstasy was stolen away from him.

The plan wouldn't be too difficult to pull off. Administering the first dose would be the greatest challenge, as would perhaps the second and third, but certainly by the fourth and fifth, the boy would have started to find his own need for the drug. All that was needed now was a bit of cleaning up, a warm, welcoming family meal and a reasonable dose of Quaaludes.

Puttering around the kitchen like a regular Donna Reed, Robert whistled happily. Life was good when the universe was kept in balance.

~oOo~

"Lucas," Robert pulled out the kitchen chair for the boy, "you can sit here. Max, you're next to him and the little fellar, Blair isn't it? Well, Blair, you can sit over here next to me."

"He stays with me." Lucas still felt like shit and he was certain at any moment that his head would take a leave of absence from his neck, but Blair stayed with him, no matter what.

"Son, your Uncle has gone to a lot of effort to try and make this all nice. Can't you at least try?" Max encouraged.

Robert reached over and patted his brother's arm. "It's okay, Max, Blair can sit next to Lucas if he wants."

Lucas narrowed his gaze. This was wrong, totally wrong. Robert was far too calm. Robert was being far too nice.

Warily, Lucas took a seat, pulling Blair's chair right up against his own. It wasn't long before a small hand clutched at his thigh.

"Well," announced Robert, taking his own seat, "isn't this pleasant?" He drained the last dregs of his beer and placed it back down on the table, right next to his gun. "Now I know that this reunion has gotten off to a rather shaky start, but what do you say we all try and step forward on a new foot?"

"What did you do to Jim?"

Robert ignored the comment. "Shall I do the honours?"

"Lucas?" Blair's voice broke. "Where's Daddy?"

Lucas pulled Blair onto his lap. "It's okay, he'll be back," he answered quietly.

Robert chuckled under his breath "Not unless his middle name is Lazarus." He leaned over and gave Lucas a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Huh, Lazarus. Get it?" he laughed.

Rubbing his hands together, Robert lifted the lid of the casserole dish to reveal a combination of various canned soups he'd found in the cupboard. "Shall I play mother?" Ladling the soup into four bowls, which were lined up across the table in front of him, Robert handed them out in meticulous order.

Blair looked at the bowl as it was placed down. It didn't look very good, but his tummy was growling and he was very hungry. He picked up his spoon, only to have the movement stopped by Lucas. "No," was all the teenager said.

The action didn't go unnoticed. "Lucas, you got a problem?"

"No, no problem, we're just not hungry."

Robert looked at Blair. "Is that right kid? Not hungry?"

Blair shook his head, and a tiny bit of defiance crept into his voice. "I not hungwy." With a little bit more courage, he pushed the bowl away. "I not want this."

"Okay," Robert conceded, calmly. "Nobody is going to be forced to eat what they don't want to eat." He reached out to touch Blair's arm, only to have Lucas pull them both back. "How about ice cream, then? You think you might be hungry for ice cream?"

"Why don't you just can the bullshit and cut to the chase." The chair scraped roughly across the floorboards and Lucas surged to his feet. Dropping Blair down behind him, he squared his shoulders and mustered his courage. "For you to reach him, you're going to have to go through me first, and I can assure you that I'm not nine years old anymore."

Robert smiled. "There's no doubt you've grown, my boy, but did you obtain bullet-proof amour with that growth spurt?"

"You won't," Lucas answered cockily. Violently he swept his arm across the table, sending the bowls smashing to the floor. "So, what was it this time? Valium, Diazapam, Quaaludes?

Robert traced his fingers over the cool metal casing of the handgun. "You're mighty sure of yourself, aren't you?" He picked up the gun and levelled it at Lucas. "But what makes you so certain ... so god damn sure that I won't drop you where you stand?"

"Because you still want me."

"You think I care whether the goods I fuck are damaged or not?" Robert's control was slipping. "Just take a look at your father, and let's not forget Scotty, either," he spat. "Your old man's a drug addict and the kid ... well, you know how fucked up he was."

"No," Max yelled. Finally finding a voice that had been absent for so long, he cried out again. "No ... don't you say that." He pressed his closed fists hard against his temples. "Don't you dare say that about him," he stated, falling to his knees and burying his face in his hands. "He was just a baby ... my little boy was just a baby."

Despite his absolute rejection of any guilt, Robert Wilder did have an emotional breaking point, and his brother's grief was more often than not the trigger that released his compassion. He moved to kneel by Max. "I'm sorry," he said with genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to." While his mouth spewed a babble of apologies, Robert's mind was quite certain of just who, exactly, was responsible for Scott's death. It was Lucas; he was one hundred percent clear about that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Robert watched the one he knew was truly guilty. Lucas was standing, not moving a muscle, not appearing the least bit remorseful at his father's emotional breakdown. But the child, he was touched. He poked his body out from behind his protective shield to see what was going on, and gave Robert the chance he'd been waiting for. With the speed of a striking snake, he grabbed Blair's arm and twisted the small body into his own.

Rising quickly and backing up, he held the youngster in a firm headlock, the boy's legs dangling helplessly in the air.

"Ah ah, don't," he cautioned, squeezing a little tighter as Lucas surged forward. "Just don't."

"Let him go," Lucas said coldly.

"I will," Robert assured. "But first I need you to make a choice."

"What kind of choice?"

"A choice that involves obedience and submission."

Blair whimpered, his legs kicked out, and his hands clawed at Robert's forearm.

"Alright, I'll submit!" Lucas yelled. The cool, collected, tough guy facade he'd been trying to maintain was starting to show cracks.

"Not that easy, I'm afraid," Robert replied. He slowly moved around to the other side of the table and glanced briefly over at Max. Small, rhythmic, rocking motions had taken over his brother's body and Robert knew that Max had gone wherever he went when he needed to escape reality. He'd be no more trouble tonight and, after he was done, neither would Lucas.

"Sit," Robert ordered.

Lucas complied.

Taking a seat himself and positioning Blair on his knee, Robert released his strangle hold and reached into his shirt pocket.

Blair choked out a cough and tears streamed down his face. He reached out across the table for Lucas, only to be pulled back sharply. "Where's Bagheera?" he blurted, looking around the room.

Also unable to feel the presence of the animal spirit, Lucas began to wonder the same question. "Okay," he said, trying to sound a little more reasonable. Experience had shown Lucas that standing up to Robert usually resulted in a world full of pain, but it had also shown him the strength of his own resolve. He didn't back down from the man without a very good reason, and Blair had just become that reason. "Whatever it is you want, I'll do it. Just let him come back over here to me."

"I will, in a minute." Grabbing hold of Blair's arm, Robert slammed it down on the table. Nimble fingers flicked the cap from the syringe he held in his hand. "But first you need to make that choice." Piecing the needle just beneath the first layer of skin on the youngster's tender forearm, Robert stared at Lucas. "You or him. Your choice."

Lucas couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing. Not in this context. In his memories and in his nightmares, Robert had been the embodiment of hell in a human form, but that was a long time ago, and this ... this was so real.

"Well?" Robert asked, pushing down ever so slightly on the syringe.

Blair was beyond hysterics, beyond reaction. His breathing hitched so badly, he was barely breathing at all. Lucas's choice was made. He slammed his arm down on the table. "Me."

"Good choice, Kiddy Winks." In the blink of an eye, the syringe plunged into Lucas's arm and the drug entered his bloodstream. In the blink of two, the rush he felt was like nothing he'd ever experienced. In the blink of three, his stomach revolted and his world became hazy. By four, the last thing he remembered was Blair screaming his name.

~oOo~