Charles stopped by a few days later to talk to the boys about the wedding plans and ideas. "Miss Ginny said she'd like the flowers to be a pastel shade of purple. Do you like that too? I think it'd be just lovely." he carried on. But Roger wasn't listening too closely. He was preoccupied with the other things on his mind. He had the teddy bear under his arm, 'the thing' curled in his fingers, and a tiny white stuffed bunny (which Charles had brought him that day) resting on his knee. It was supposed to symbolize the white of the wedding. The new beginnings. Charles noticed how quiet the usually excited boy was acting. "Is everything alright, dear?" he asked. Roger instantly reached out for his hand. "I-I…I can't tell you…" he whimpered, remembering how his doctor had threatened a hanging if he mentioned anything about the surgery to "the saviors that were trying to protect him from the world". Charles held Roger closer to him. "Darling," he murmured as he furrowed his eyebrows together. "You can tell me anything. We're a family. We don't have to keep things from each other."

"I'm not allowed to tell…"

"Whoever told you that?"

"The doctor."

Charles seemed upset at the very mention of that word. "What did he do to you?" he asked lowly. Roger could tell from his tone that he was willing to put up a fight against anything the doctor would try. "He…he said I'm going to have surgery." Roger whimpered. "On my brain. He says I'm still bad. My brain is bad. So he's going to take out the not nice parts so that I can be good again."

"When did he tell you this?"

"Just a few days ago. The morning that Jack came to visit me."

"…Well let me tell you something, love. I will not let him get his hands on you. Or your brain. I'm…I'm going to free you."

It seemed as if something sparked inside of Charles right then and there. "Yes, I'm going to free you. I'm going to get you out of here for good." he affirmed. Roger sniffled. He was all tucked in close to his new adoptive father, wrapped safely in his arms. "Miss Ginny doesn't know…" he whispered. Charles nodded. "Then it'll only work out better. Just give me some time to think through things, Roge. And then…then you'll be totally free."

X x X

Charles walked through the entrance of the asylum just a few days later, packet of papers in his hand. He purposely hadn't shaved that morning and let his hair go instead of being neatly parted to the side. All part of the plan. He approached the reception desk. "Excuse me, Miss?" he asked the young woman sitting behind the counter. She looked pretty new - - he hadn't seen her around before. "I'm here to pick up my son, Roger." he reported. The woman shuffled through some paperwork to give herself time to think. Finally, she decided on an answer. "I'm sorry, sir. But we can't release a patient unless they have had special clearance by the doctors. Have you received any notice in the mail?"

Charles pulled out the first page of his packet. "Actually," he said with a smile. "I have," As the nurse took the paper from him and scanned it, he felt butterflies rise in his stomach. Please just send it through… he thought desperately. After what seemed like ages, she nodded. "Alright. I'll need your information first. Are you his biological father and what is your name?"
"I'm Charles Emmett. And no, I'm not his birth father."

"You adopted him?"

"Yes, I did. He was under my care for two straight years. Then I sent him on the plane to the all-children's home outside of England while the bombings were severe, and he was on the plane that crashed into the remote island."

"He's the killer."

"He's my son."

"…I'll need to see your legal documentation first."

Charles handed her pages two through four of his packet. She looked over it very briefly, to Charles relief, and put them aside. Clearly she had no idea how to read any of it. All part of the plan. "You've got the legalities worked out and our letter of release. I'll go back and get him." she said. Charles took a seat in the grim waiting area, praying that no one who knew him would walk by.

A few minutes later, Charles heard a tussle occurring down the hall. He knew who was coming. The woman who worked behind the counter let out a yelp of pain as she dragged a tiny little boy into view. Her neatly bunned hair was now a mess, and she rubbed her wrist to calm the sting of a bitemark. When Roger saw Charles, he let out a little gasp. "Do you recognize your adoptive father?" she asked through gritted teeth. Roger took a moment, then nodded slowly. He seemed to have figured out the entire scheme in less than four seconds. He actually played along well. He pretended to be timid near Charles, reaching out a few times to touch him as if in disbelief. "It's me, darling." Charles cooed gently. "I'm coming to take you back to our home." Roger looked around, then nodded silently.

The receptionist held out a release form in front of Charles. "Once your signature is on this form, he's free. Sign right there for me, and initial there, and then sign one more time." she instructed, pointing as best she could with scratched-up hands. Charles quickly scrawled his name on the first line. Roger immediately tugged at his coat, whimpering. "What's the matter, love?" he asked. He followed Roger's terrified stare off into the distance.

The doctor was charging down the hall.

He seemed to be in blistering fury. "Stop him, Josephine!" he shouted. "Don't let him sign that!" The woman looked up at Charles suspiciously. He wrote as fast as he possibly could to get the signatures out of the way and have this all be done with. Roger cried out when the doctor threw himself over the counter and seized a corner of the document. Charles panicked. He scribbled his final signature onto the line as the paper was ripped away from him, leaving a long line of ink trailing down to the bottom. He instantly dropped the pen after. Charles grabbed Roger and hugged him protectively. "He's mine! It's signed and done! He's mine! He's free! You can't touch him!" he shouted.

The doctor was red. "How could this happen?! He doesn't even have a family at all! They're all dead! No one has ever come for him!" he raged. Josephine just shrugged following the dialogue with her eyes between the two men. The doctor pointed at Charles as he grabbed all the documentation. "That thing can't leave without being treated!" he hollered. Charles kissed Roger's cheek which was wet with terrified tears. "I've got all the treatment he needs." he said. He gathered Roger up into his arms. "Come, darling. We're going home." he murmured.

Even though the angry doctor continued arguing, Charles simply walked out of the building with his new son. They stayed silent the whole time until they reached a bench, which they sat upon. "It's alright, dear." Charles cooed. "You're out of there forever."

"B-But…how…?"

"I worked some magic. That's all. It's hard to understand."

"M-My things…"

"Miss Ginny will bring them when she comes home today. I doubt she'll ever be allowed to return there again, so she'll pack up anything you might've left behind."

When Miss Ginny arrived home that night, she immediately went to asking questions. A thousand things flooded out of her mouth at once. Roger was already fast asleep on the couch (where he'd be sleeping until they could get him a bed to put into the spare room). Charles sat her down at the kitchen table and took her hands. "My dear," he murmured. "It's a difficult feeling that I'm experiencing right now. I'm proud of my work, but also I'm not. I did the right thing, but the wrong thing as well. You see…I copied the adoption certificate. It's not real. I bought a false one from someone and filled in all the correct information. Same with the release letter from the asylum - - my cousin had one from when her daughter visited once. Again, I copied and filled in the correct words. I know that what I did was wrong and scandalous, but I don't regret doing it because I know Roger's safe with us now. And until we get his real adoption documentation, then we'll just pretend for him that it was all true." he explained, hanging his head. Miss Ginny squeezed his hands.

He was surprised to look up and see a smile on her face.

She took a deep breath. "Honestly," she began. "I would've done the same thing." The pair shared a laugh. "I guess that's why we're getting married," Charles said. The two looked at the child that peacefully rested on his little space, snuggled under a quilt. They glanced at each other, then simultaneously stood up and went to his side. Charles scooped the little boy into his arms. Miss Ginny tucked the blanket around him closer and carried his two favorite toys into their bedroom. He was laid down right in the middle with his beloved objects with just enough room for each adult to sleep on a side. As he settled into his new position, he wrapped his arms around his teddy bear and 'the thing'. "I love you, Mummy and Daddy…" he murmured.

Miss Ginny put a hand over her heart. It was the first time she'd ever been called that. And it coming from her favorite little child made it all the more special.

Charles wrapped an arm around her, feeling equally as proud to be a parent. They watched as their new tiny son slept, buried under a sheet, a quilt, and a comforter, clinging to an old teddy bear and a feather duster.

Neither had ever seen a more perfect sight.