The sound of an old analogue clock ticking away was the only thing disrupting the otherwise complete silence of the office. The hour was late but yet as it grew later still with each tick of the clock the sole occupant of the room did not rise to leave. There were no lights on but the full moon shining in though the many windows was sufficiently bright enough to read by.

Boris sat in the darkened office heedless of the late hour and the dull headache brewing behind his eyes. He sat leaning forward on his desk chin resting upon interlaced fingers. He sat so motionlessly an outside observer might have thought his form was artificial like many of the men and women under his employ.

The aging man sighed and looked down at the spread of handwritten papers before him. They were Hal Emmerich's notes and they had been poured over many times these past few hours. Knowing what he knew of the man and his capabilities he had little cause to doubt the accuracy of Hal's findings. Given the more in depth content of these papers it was no wonder that the man had been in such a hurry to leave today with Sunny.

The dear girl had been loath to leave and had put up a quite a spirited fight. But of course she had spirit, it was in her Russian blood after all, but while Boris could appreciate the fiery determination to be there for the ones she loved he had to intervene and put his foot down. He had told her with little room to debate that her stay at Maverick was over.

The betrayed look she had given him still caused his heart to ache.

When Bladewolf had stepped into the tense parting, summoned forth by the girl after her failure to sway the two men, Sunny had sunk into a crouch and cupped the machine's head between her small hands.

"I need you to do a favor for me Wolf. Please?"

"I shall. What is it you desire of me?"

"I have to leave now. I won't lose my job, I know I won't, but Hal is making me go back today. But could you please stay in my stead? Raiden still needs help but he's too stubborn to let anyone know when he needs it. Can you watch out for him? Take care of him for me?"

Naturally Bladewolf had agreed to Sunny's request. While Boris had voiced his relief to no one, the presence of the powerful AI acting as a sentinel eased much of his worries. The Russian man felt more secure in his task of keeping father and son safe with such a vigilant ally on his side.

Unfortunately Sunny was not the only teenager he had upset this day. While checking in with Doktor about the progress of upgrading security Boris had pointedly suggested to the older man that it was beyond time for George to take his leave of Maverick as well. Raiden was more or less stable and the child had gotten a chance to finally meet his hero, despite the poor state he was in. Now it was time for him to return to the orphanage out of dangers path. Boris had not been witness to that conversation but apparently the boy had not taken the news well and had been rather devastated at having to leave. He hated to disappoint the children so but under such circumstances it could not be helped.

If only all his problems were as simple as the hurt feelings of teenagers. Boris took a moment to send up a small prayer of gratitude that at least John was behaving for once.

The possible security breach weighed heavily upon Boris' mind. He trusted Doktor and his work but he also trusted the word of Hal Emmerich, no...of Otacon. The legendary Solid Snake had put his faith in this man for good reason and Boris would be a fool to not heed his words.

The security risk was far too large to manage as things were. Even if none of his employees had been hacked directly, there was always the possibility that their loved ones could have been compromised. These individuals were outside the Doktor's protection. It was as Otacon said the Hunter worked. If he could not get at his target, then he would leverage those around. With the generous amount of staff that Maverick possessed, it would be all too easy to blackmail at least one of his employees using those in their personal lives.

No. The only solution that stood out to Boris was that if Raiden and his son were not safe here while he recovered, then they need to be relocated elsewhere. A well hidden safe house.

While the most practical of solutions, it came with a host of challenges and risks. Due to the nature of the Hunters skills and their world of ever increasing technological intertwinement, this safe house would have to be in a distinctly remote area with little availability to technology. Many locations came to Boris' mind immediately. Despite the technological advances, there still were many places in the states where there was not even cell signal to be had.

The problem with such a solution as a safe house would unfortunately be Raiden himself.

A regular person could be hidden quite well for an extended amount of time so long as they had food, water, and shelter. This was not so with Raiden. One could not send a cyborg out into the middle of nowhere for extended periods of time without fatal consequences. Their medical needs were simply too many.

It was unclear how long this potential safe house situation would have to last, but it would be prudent to prepare for the long haul. Refills for self-repair units and fuel cells, dialysis equipment, synthetic hormones, and the many other necessities that an artificial body required would have to be stored at this location as well. It would be a delicate dance gathering all of the required equipment and having it transported, all the while evading the predator watching through digital eyes.

Such a discreet and particular endeavor could take a several weeks to pull off unnoticed. Perhaps even longer if they wished to plant false leads.

There was also the fact that there would need to be someone trustworthy on hand capable of using said equipment and knowledgeable of cyborg medical requirements. This addition alongside Raiden and John would have to be taken into account in regards to supplies. And not only this technician, Boris knew that there also needed to be a fourth individual brought in.

Hal had brought up a valid point during the meeting between the three of them. Who would be capable of defending the pair should they be threatened by a fully armored and armed cyborg being puppeted by a man seeking death?

Boris had every faith that Bladewolf would stop at nothing to fulfill Sunny's wishes for Raiden to be protected should danger arise. But what if the AI itself were the danger? It was an unlikely happening given what he knew of Bladewolf capabilities but one did not get to be his age in this field without planning for all possibilities. What would happen to incapacitated father and son should their loyal guardian be unwillingly turned upon them? The end would be swift and bloody, and there would not be many able to stop the machine if that were the case.

One man could though.

In the end Boris knew what had to be done although he was loath to do so. There could be consequences for this but he saw little alternative. Being no stranger to hard choices, he would deal with the fallout of his decisions as they arose.

With another sigh breaking the silence of the still room, Boris sat back in his chair and finally called Samuel Rodriguez over the heavily encrypted line. The small device on his desk lit up projecting the yellow framed screen with Samuel's information in the lower right corner while the center remained black as the guarded call went through. Several heartbeats later the face of his newest employee appeared on the projected screen in front of him.

"My dear Boris. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call for? And on the secure line no less. Something important, or perhaps you just missed me?" The scarred mischievous face on the screen quirked an amused smile that did not quite reach his eyes. Boris paid little attention to Samuel's playful words, having grown far too used to his need to nettle at everyone.

"Where are you?"

"Considering that I know you keep good tabs on your people, that question is mostly to determine if it safe to speak, is it not? That and you have called me on an encrypted channel. If that is the case, I am alone and all ears my dear employer."

"I need you to come back." Boris stated bluntly without fanfare. "At once."

The Brazilian man let out a laugh that could almost be a scoff and shook his head slowly. After brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face the man crossed his arms.

"Come back? After you just sent me on this oh so important surveillance mission that certainly did not require someone of my talents for? You were rather insistent that I take this role. I'm not sure you should trust watching from the shadows to any other agent." Samuel looked off into the distance innocently, but his fingers tapped his irritation out on his armor.

"Enough of your attitude Rodriguez." Boris let some of the frustration and stress that had been building for the past several hours bleed out into his voice. "You know very well why I sent you on this mission. It was because you could not behave."

"I had no intention of causing trouble…" Samuel held his hands in the air in placating surrender but Boris wasn't having it.

"I ask one thing of you, only one thing. Stay away from the labs while Raiden is recovering, and where do I find you? Trying to have sneak down into lab." Boris sat back in his chair, sending a disapproving look at the screen.

Thankfully he had preemptively anticipated that Samuel would attempt such a thing despite his request otherwise. Boris had asked Bladewolf to run interference should Samuel try and disobey his commands to leave the recovering man alone. And predictably he had tried to make his way down into the labs the day after Raiden had been fitted into his new body.

"I only wanted to talk." Samuel stated more insistently, not bothering to hide his annoyance any longer. "I was not going to harm him. Despite what everyone may think, I have no sinister intentions towards the man. I do not see how this is so hard to believe." Boris only raised an eyebrow at the incensed insistence. The skepticism only seemed to irritate the agent further. "If you are so cautious about me being around him, and I am truly offended that you think so lowly of me after all of this time, then why would you risk asking me to return?"

Boris took a deep breath to get his emotions fully back under his command once more. It would not do to exchange irate words with his most capable agent considering the precarious circumstances at Maverick.

"I never said I disbelieved you when you said you wished to talk. And I truly do believe your word when you say you wish Raiden no harm." Boris spoke calmly and patiently. "While I know you mean no harm he would not know this. His hard won stability might be set back should the two of you interact."

"If I am such a risk to sleeping beauty then what is so important that you need me back for? And to tell me this over a secure line at that?" Samuel scratched at his scruffy jaw, feigning a casual air that fooled neither of them.

"Security at Maverick has been compromised. I have strong reason to believe that one, if not more, of my agents have been hacked by the individual that abducted Raiden. He stands little chance of fighting them off as he is. Indeed, many of my unmodified employees would also fall should a cyborg agent be compromised."

The news took the fight out of Samuel more than Boris' calm words had. The man's irritated scowl was replaced by a look of uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Aye, I see now why you are so worried."

"And why this conversation needed to be encrypted. While you may have cybernetics you lack the brain work done that would leave you vulnerable to hacking. You can also stand up against any of my agents that may fall victim to this man."

"Do you know who may be compromised?"

"No. We are taking pains to ensure the hacker is not alerted to the fact that we are wise to his interference. Although I confess that this seems optimistic on our part. Still, I would have you at headquarters under the guise of regular pretenses as an added layer of protection."

"Are you not worried?" Samuel asked after a moment, with a frown and with a tilt of his head. "It is no secret that Mr. Damsel in distress and I have bloody history together. That and my previous employers were less than...honorable which reflects on me still to this day. Hacking or not, anybody in their right mind would be worried that I would turn traitor."

Boris took a moment to look down at his scarred and calloused hands while he picked over his words carefully.

"I have also taken orders from employers without honor. Regrettably in my youth I was a man only all to happy to follow those orders. I am changed now but living a life such as this I have been around many type of men. I have seen the eyes of those that would speak of protection but would seek to put a knife in one's back. You, Samuel, do not have such eyes. Nor would you seek out to cause harm by such underhanded tactics. I think you would be blunt and upfront with your intentions should you wish violence. Others may say what they wish, it is only you that I trust to look over Raiden and his son at this moment."

"Why Boris, I am flattered." Samuel clasped a metal hand over his heart. His grin may have been the embodiment of irritating, but there was a flicker of emotion behind brown eyes that whispered that the man was more moved by the words of trust than he knew how to express. "And I am sure that my dear Jack will be simply thrilled to see me after so long."

"No." Boris cut him off before any more ideas could brew in that scarred head. "You are to stay close and guard but stay separate. I do not wish for the two of you interacting at all if possible. Ideally Raiden will not learn about your presence until after he is more recovered."

Samuel looked offended and mildly mutinous. After thinking it over for several heartbeats the man eventually nodded with a put upon sigh.

"Fine. I will lay low and leave Blondie and the demon child alone. How long will I have to slink in the shadows?"

"That is yet to be determined. First, I need you to get back as soon as possible. Drop your current mission, the target will have to wait."

"The target can go to hell for all I care. This slinking around in the alleyways and shadows has been unimaginably dull. I will make plans to return immediately."

"Good. I await your arrival." With nothing else left to say Boris ended the call. The yellow screen projecting the call disappeared sending the room cast back into darkness.

For a moment Boris was left wondering if he had made the right decision. Having the two men interact with one another again was doubtful to go over well. Raiden could be a passionate individual at times who's emotions overrode his reason. He was still under the belief that the Brazilian had died years ago. While Samuel may not wish violence on him, the same could not be said for Raiden.

Their interaction may be avoided for a while but once the safe house was prepared they would have to work together. Or at the very least exist in the same space. And knowing what he did about the blond man's stubbornness, Boris planned to wait until the very last moment so there can be no arguments nor backing out of the arrangement. He could almost see that situation as having the same results as putting two tom cats bearing a grudge towards one another in a small room together. But given the truth of the threats faced, not only by Raiden but by everyone else under his care, he had little other options at his disposal.

The small clock ticked on unnoticed as Boris thought long and hard into the night planning around the trials and potential dangers to come.

-0-0-0-

Despite what his mother may say, John had always thought himself rather observant. It was true that he would often overlook hard to miss notes on the refrigerator reminding him to set out a frozen item to thaw before she got home. Or he would look through his closet several times, nearly tearing it apart to find a particular shirt, and she would come in and pluck it from seemingly nowhere with hardly a glance. But those things were simple unimportant stuff. When it was something that John was keen on, he took in every detail no matter how small.

John had watched his father raptly years ago when he was teaching the boy about firearms. How to handle the weapons safely, how to dissemble them for cleaning, how to steady ones breathing when lining up a shot, John had learned it all with unwavering attention. This was cool action hero stuff after all and it was being taught to him by his favorite person.

When they used to practice with their wooden swords in the back yard John would watch as Dad ran through warm up exercises. Several times John had surprised his father by turning those same moves against him as they sparred despite not being that advanced in his lessons yet. John always ended up on his backside in the grass but it had been well worth it to be able to get a hit in and he had taken great pride in those moments.

Lately those old lessons had been drug up from the deep corners of his mind where he had stashed them in his bitterness to mull over as of late. It was natural he supposed, to be thinking of those old times watching and listening to Dad as the man was now at the forefront of his attention. With the two of them staying in this small Maverick apartment for several weeks, John had plenty of time to observe his father closely.

At least the man seemed to be mostly better by now. Mostly. Thankfully he was nothing like he was in the very beginning. Those first few days in the labs had been the absolute worst. Dad had looked so broken laying there that John could hardly look at him without wanting to cry. Slowly he had been able to sit up and move more on his own. Eventually he had been able to hold cards as game after game of poker with George, Sunny, and Bladewolf was played to pass the time.

It had been a slow sort of progress, hard won and hardly noticeable. It was only after they moved up to their temporary home did John get to observe the changes in his father that unfolded more rapidly, although not necessarily more easily.

For several days Dad could not truly get around without the help of Bladewolf. He could stand up on his own, and even walk short distances so long as he was not distracted or overly tired, but often the machine would have to step in. Wolf would have to follow him around incessantly because despite John's insistence that he rest, and in spite of the fact that Dad was prone to falling asleep ever few hours or so, the man was utterly restless.

There was little room in the apartment for pacing about, even less with the big AI walking alongside too, but those first few days his father did little else but pace. From the bedroom to the kitchenette to the bathroom and back, Dad walked on determinedly. It was almost as if he were seeking something. John never voiced his questions and his father never spoke of his reasons. The teen would walk sometimes with them as a show of support, but most of the time John would sprawl on the couch or sometimes perch on top of the table to be out of the way in the small cramped apartment.

Eventually less and less did John see his father lean on Wolf. The machine began to hover less closely as stumbles became more of a rarity than a common occurrence. Soon it was the AI sitting by the couch or table while father and son made their slow trips around the apartment.

John realized one day that seeing his father walking and standing on his own had become such a normal occurrence that seeing him move about was no longer noteworthy. Naively he had taken that as a sign that everything was nearly back to normal. That their time at Maverick was nearly over with. That it was soon time to go home. His optimism that all was well had been dashed when one day guards came to the door.

At the time John had been less preoccupied by the presence of the guards but rather of the fact they were here to escort Dad down to the labs for the evening. It was the first of many trips, he would come to learn.

"But wait...I thought the Doktor had released you. I thought that you were better now." John had asked, puzzled and slightly petulant. The thoughts that his father was nearly recovered seemed to deflate at the thought of Dad having to go back down to that horrid place.

"No. I'm still not at my best up here." Dad had tapped the side of his head with a wry smirk. "Dok still wants to tinker around with me and try and fix what's still broken."

"How long will that take before you are done with all of this lab stuff?"

"Messed up brain aside, I never will truly be done with all of this 'lab stuff.' Unless silence finds a way to grow me a new body I'm stuck having to have constant maintenance. It's the price to pay for being a cyborg. I'll never be free of it for as long as I'm alive."

It had gnawed at John. The proof that he had tried to overlook that things were in fact, not better. The progress, the improvements, it all seemed like an exercise in futility if Dad couldn't go back to normal. But then again, knowing what he knew now, John's idea of normal was probably a carefully constructed front made by his parents to keep him from worry.

He was strongly reminded of his hysterics as a child once more at the hospital visits. Given the harsh truth of it all, it was no wonder they had gone through such trouble to keep him ignorant of the details of Dad's life. Although now, day by day in close proximity to each other, it was difficult for John not to see the truth for what it was.

The teen wondered what else he didn't know about his father.

"You look a bit blue little man. Something bothering you?" Kevin had asked him one day not long after that lab visit. Dad had been sleeping at the time and instead of waking the man, Kev had just decided to crash on their couch with his laptop to work while he waited.

"It's nothing that can be helped really." John had grumbled, idly entertaining himself by drawing patterns in the glass table with his fingerprints.

"It might not be able to be helped but talking about it might help you some. I'm all ears if you wanna get it off your chest."

Almost as if it were waiting for permission to be spoken, the question came out before John could have a chance to wrangle it back in.

"Is...is Dad disabled?"

"Well gee that's kind of a loaded question, and one that is kinda subjective." Kev had said with a wince and squirmed uncomfortably at the unexpected subject. "Right now, sorta. You gotta give him time to get better little man. But if your talking in general...I mean...if you wanna look at it technically I guess? He wouldn't be able to survive without an artificial body and specialized medical care. But artificial bodies allow people to pull off some unbelievably cool things. Hold on...lemme grab my laptop and pull up some footage…"

Together they had sat down on the sofa, laptop balanced on Kevin's knee as he booted up the device. The teen noted that Kev seemed to be far more particular in hiding certain files and pictures than he had been about hiding his own password for the computer which John had noted easily. The thoughts of secrecy, passwords, and worry was soon blown away by the videos that the man had to show him.

Blocking bullets, giant building sized robots, leapfrogging amongst fired missiles...it was something straight out of an action movie. Watching the very carefully selected combat clips all recorded from his father's point of view was something to behold. It made Dad's restlessness make all the more sense to John in a spark of true understanding. The man knew what he was capable of and was determined to return to it once again and would not rest until he did.

Knowing that his father was hell bent on improving, John in his own way became equally hell bent on seeking out and mentally cataloging every speck of progress that his father achieved over the next few weeks.

One facet of this improvement had unexpectedly started as one morning around their second week stuck in this limbo the teen had woke to find his father sitting in the floor in front of the television. He had been setting up the long ignored gaming systems that had been gifted to the boy at the beginning of his stay at Maverick. After their confusion with the cords and grumbling from both of them about unfamiliar controls they managed to get entertainment device up and running.

John for one, had been extremely thankful because, intent observations or not, sitting in this room all day everyday without the internet to keep him occupied was starting to drive him mad. The monotony was broken as video games quickly became part of the daily routine for the two of them.

Whenever his father would grow weary from pacing about but not enough to go sleep, he would spend time with John playing the various games. Back in the old days, back at home, the two of them had enjoyed playing various retro games together. This tended to be a rainy day occurrence as they would both rather be outside when it was nice, but it had been fun and memorable times all the same.

It was one evening when John noticed his father's only mildly shaking hands holding the controller did the teen suddenly realize that the unexpected interest in gaming was not about recreation, it was about regaining lost dexterity and hand eye coordination.

Early on Dad could hardly play without intense concentration and their sessions never lasted very long, but as the days had crept past the tremors subsided then faded away nearly entirely. Dad went from losing every round to beginning to win nearly every one of the matches. John, who admittedly had been notorious for being a sore loser in his online circles, had never been so overjoyed to take L after L before.

The both of them learned very early on not to challenge Bladewolf to any matches. John didn't realize that an emotionless hunk of metal could look smug.

Sometimes when he and Dad were teasing and taunting one another as they played John would nearly forget that they were stuck in America and could have swore that they were back home. The teen buried that melancholy deep inside, determined not to let it show. Dad hadn't been home in years, John knew that he had zero right to complain.

Well, he might not have complained about going home, but he did begin to complain about cabin fever.

When John had announced his intent to go exploring around Maverick building one afternoon Bladewolf had unexpectedly sat in front of the front door and refused to let John pass. After a moment of silence where he assumed that Wolf and Dad were doing that codec talking thing again his father had looked at him with serious blue eyes and said the sentence that no one wants to hear: "We need to talk."

John would later think that to his credit, he had noticed all of the guards. He just didn't know what was normal around here or not.

"We are not safe here." Dad had said without preamble or attempting to soften the words in the slightest. John could only stare at him, speechless at the unexpected statement. "Boris and the others are doing their best to keep us safe but there is a strong chance that security has been compromised. The man that took me and went after you and your mother has most likely hacked one, if not several, Maverick employees. It's not safe for you to be wandering about right now."

Dad had sat silently, watching as John struggled to process the information that had been dumped upon him. The news that the person that was responsible for their family being broken up and for Mom to still be missing may have infiltrated the building was, to put it lightly, a shock.

"What?" That single sharp syllable was the only thing that John seemed capable of coming up with as a response.

"I didn't want to tell you and have you stressed out and paranoid…"

"Well gee, I don't see why I would be." John had snapped out the statement with all the sarcasm that his fourteen year old self could muster. It had been finely punctuated by throwing his arms up in the air and flopping down on the couch.

"Don't be a smart ass." Dad had given him a look but gave him none of the lecturing Mom would have for taking that kind of tone. "I'm telling you so you'll be on your toes in a few days. Act normal but trust no one but me, Boris, and Wolf. And for that matter should something happen you stay with Wolf. No matter what happens to me. Got it?"

John had reluctantly agreed although only after forcing promises out of the man that he would do his best to not get captured again. Promises and instructions to stay near Bladewolf aside, the knowledge that they were possibly being watched by the individual that John had dubbed 'The Bastard' made it somewhat difficult to look forward to their visit to Maverick's gyms two days later.

It was near midnight when the two finally had a chance to get out and go to the gym at Maverick. The late hour all but ensured that all of the regular employees had already gone home for the day. They were not alone by any means. Wolf prowled about ceaselessly, always on alert. There were a few guards in the gym as well with some working out, and others just talking. Now that he was looking for them, John spotted the same few faces that either sat outside their rooms or were the ones that escorted Dad to and from the labs.

One of the guards with them that night had been the one John had tricked when he had broke out. The teen was mortified to find out that he just so happened to be a friend of his father. When then man told the story about John's escape with the ketchup Dad had found it hilarious. That had been the first time John had seen him truly laugh in a long time. It was nice to see again.

After the embarrassing stories were finished they got down to what they came here to do: move.

It was painfully nostalgic stretching out before the run. Just like years ago, John would go through his stretches and warm ups while his father would mill about waiting, having no need for such things. But unlike years ago, John felt no jealousy now towards the older man's cybernetics. The teen had been well cured of that these past few weeks.

"You said you've been keeping up with your running. Time to show me what you can do." Dad said with a mischievous smirk.

"Make way for the running champion of New Zealand old man." John had playfully countered.

"Awfully big words for someone who hasn't finished growing yet. Let's go." Now that he was out of those dull rooms, Dad's mood seemed to be significantly lighter. John didn't know how to interpret the change he was seeing but he was not about to waste it by questioning it.

Despite the teasing between the two it was slow going to allow the recovering man to get used to the foreign movement again. Just like the other things John had watched him with these few weeks, it seemed that as long as his father focused he was fine. Later after a few near stumbles to the ground, Wolf had taken to trotting beside the pair, his claws ticking out a metronome on the hard floor.

John didn't know how long they were at it, but he knew it was all too soon that they had to stop. Or rather, Dad did. It was a strange mix of disappointment and certainty that the teen felt as they were herded back up to their rooms. There was the disappointment that the weariness that plagued Dad had started to make him lose grip on his focus and falter in his motions. There was also the certainty that John had seen the same pattern play out over several other facets of his father's recovery and knew that it was only a matter of time before the running was no issue as well.

All of these improvements in various areas that Dad displayed were heartening to the teen. It almost made the version of Dad he saw in all of those videos Kevin showed him an imminent possibility once more. Unfortunately these external improvements was only one side of the coin. While John observed his father getting better physically day by day, mentally it was another story entirely.

With moving around John could always lend a hand to help steady his father should he fall distracted and stumble. With the video games John could put on some lighthearted chatter and bitch about unfair game mechanics whenever Dad failed to get his hands to cooperate. But try as he might, the teen had no clue what to do about the nightmares.

John now knew why Dad's room was the furthest away from the other bedrooms at home. Apparently the bad dreams that had haunted the man down in the labs were the norm and had not been due to the environment. John had stopped counting the nightmares by the first week. On the nights that they were particularly bad, Bladewolf would leave his spot by the front door and slip into the still illuminated bedroom to calm the man.

John hated himself that he never had the courage to do it himself.

"They are normal my dear boy. Completely normal." Doktor had told John with a rueful smile one day during a lab trip.

John had made the mistake once of asking the Doktor what they were doing whenever Dad would be hooked up to all these wires and sleep for a few hours. The sheer volume of technobabble dumped upon the poor teenager had made his head spin trying to take it all in. The best John could understand was that it was like physical therapy but for the brain. After that John had avoided asking the German man any other questions. It was only until he couldn't stand the constant nightmares that he asked if they could be fixed too.

"But there's so many of them. It can't be normal." The boy had protested. Doktor had stopped typing at the computer and weighed his words carefully before speaking.

"Given the hardship that your father has been through, do you honestly think it would be normal for him not to be impacted by this? I would be rather concerned if he were not psychologically disturbed by his imprisonment and torment. Very concerned."

"Because it would mean something was really wrong?" John had saw the wisdom of the older man's words. That didn't mean that he had to like it though.

"Indeed, indeed. Good observation my boy. Nightmares are a perfectly normal psychological response to trauma and we are trying to get him back to normal the best we can. Better for them to come out rather than stay buried and fester. As distressing as it may be, it is a step in the right direction."

"I just wish I could do more to help him…"

It was a wish made often as the days crawled by turning into weeks. Unlike the walking and the games, the teen was no closer to figuring out how to help with these mental issues. John frequently wished that his mother was here. She would know what to do.

When the two of them were not talking or actively engaged in something, Dad would sometimes kinda...shut off. Not as in fall asleep, although those spells were finally starting to improve, but it was as if he were a million miles away. Sometimes John would wake up late he would find his father still sitting in his room, blankly looking off into space. The man would snap out of it easily but that didn't make those occasions any less unnerving.

Ofttimes John wished that George or Sunny were still around. He liked the two older teens and sorely missed those of his own age to talk to. But more than for his own company, he had noticed that they had ways of keeping Dad out of his head that John lacked. It was a gift that the teen envied greatly as the weeks passed. Fortunately John had not been entirely alone in making sure that his father didn't stay lost too often.

Most of their meals were taken in the small apartment. The foreign lady that had fretted over John so much after his arrival poured forth that same care towards his father tenfold. The two would chatter away in Spanish like old friends, or rather like an aunt with a long lost nephew. The woman usually left after leaving Dad a kiss on the forehead and more food than he could physically eat. John found these moments to be the highlight of his day as he always got the extra portions along with the amusement of watching his father have to clean the dark lipstick off.

It was especially humorous throughout the day if the man forgot about it.

Other times they would head to up to Boris' office for meals. It was usually late so that there was little chance of disturbances. It was typically just the four of them but sometimes Courtney and Kevin would join in as well.

They always had so many stories and various sorts of updates to tell Dad about. John was often left to eat in silence, listening to the adults chatter away. He was always lost when the Maverick crew talked to his father about places and things he didn't understand although he tried his best to take it all in and commit it to memory.

What he did understand though that talking and interaction helped greatly. Dad would lose some of that vacant look those days after the visits. Talking came easier to the man during these times, as well as some smiles.

As his father grew stronger of mind and more in command of the body that he had been given the teen could see the man from his memories starting so show through. Even though that wall was still there that kept him from what he used to be, John observed day by day the foundations of that obstacle beginning to crumble.

John noticed many things over these three weeks. But most of all he noticed his father noticing him.

He asked John questions. Wanting to know what he'd been into, what he'd been doing. Questions and conversations were started with the goal of trying to fill in some of that gap those missing years had left. Even early on when Dad had been so frustrated trying to walk he still took the time and used his limited focus to try and make up for lost time. More than ever John felt ashamed of the resentment that had brewed in his heart over those three years as he could could plainly see the regret in the man every single day.

John told him of school, his hobbies after class, anything and everything that came to the boy's mind he told it. Every memory he could look back on and recalled thinking 'I wish Dad were here' before the bitterness had taken over was brought up. Dad took it all in, learning about him with the same intensity that he applied to learning to walk and run again no matter how small or dull the subject. For a child who only ever wanted his fathers attention it was somewhat addicting.

Dad always became so frustrated with himself whenever he would forget or misremember a detail about what John had told him. The teen, and everyone else for that matter, had told him that his memory would improve with time but apparently Dad held himself to inhuman standards and expected to be perfectly recovered immediately.

That was one thing neither though of them talked about. Mom.

It hung unspoken in the air between them. The tension was fragile, like the gossamer surface of a bubble. John did not bring her up and Dad didn't ask about her although it was clear that they both wanted to. Only word from Maverick about what happened to her would have the power to broach the topic. Whether the news would be for good or ill, John didn't know, but he did know that it was the fear of bad news that held the both of them silent as their weeks here stretched on.

John had indeed noticed many things over these few weeks. Many encouraging, some heartbreaking, and many enlightening. He got to be with his father and learn so much about the man that his younger self would have been ill with envy. But despite how much he looked for it there was one thing that John could not seem to find: The end of this limbo that he and Dad were stuck in that seemed to stretch on and on with no end in sight.

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Authors notes: I've been very conflicted about this chapter to be honest. I've debated on having it written in this form as opposed to being spread out over several chapters. After talking the issue over with my Beta I ultimately decided to portray the progression of Raiden's early recovery through the lens of John's perspective. While I could have stretched these various snippets and scenes out, I felt that other than the key points, the chapters would be primarily constructed of filler and fluff.

While I am a fan of longer type stories (as my word count would suggest), I'm not a fan of stories that have a lot of words without saying much of anything at all. I also do not want to waste my dear readers time by having largely hollow chapters, especially as there is a month long wait between posts. As one of my reviewers had stated, I try to make each chapter meaty and worthwhile for both the quality of the story and to my audience. Perhaps I'm simply being too insecure about my work. But as long as you all enjoyed it then I am content.

We are now starting to head into the next stage of this story and I hope that I do the expectations and the wait justice. I can't wait to see what you all will think of future events. Until then, thanks for reading and I wish you all well.