Charlie Masters glared at his two detectives standing in front of him, but it didn't work. Archer was obviously fuming with him, he could tell from the steam coming out of her ears, but Lieutenant Sloan was another matter. He was looking at him in a calm, judging way, and the Chief was getting a little worried. From what he knew about the Lieutenant he should not be so calm after just getting blown up along with his chief suspect, even he could see the new dressing on his left arm, and the way that he was cradling that limb close to his chest.

Archer stormed out when he told her to leave with a snapped "Yes Sir," and a slammed door behind her. He then told Steve to 'get well soon', he was expecting him to leave as well, but the stubborn detective simply sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and watched him silently.

Charlie frowned at him, this was completely unexpected. "What, Lieutenant?" he asked him after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "What else do you want?"

"I want the truth." Steve replied simply. "I want to know who's working for who. I can't quite figure out whether you're working for Ross Kanan, or whether he's working for you. Are you a crook, Charlie? Or is he a cop?"

Charlie stared at him in shock for a moment. This was not what he had expected at all. A yelling Sloan he could cope with, and shout him down, well, hopefully, but a calm, steady, thoughtful Sloan was another matter. Especially when he had squirreled out some information the Chief had thought was just between him and Kanan. "That is none of your business, Lieutenant." he snapped at him, and leant forward to give it more emphasis.

Rather than cowtowing the man in front of him, his tone and body language had the opposite effect. Steve laughed at him - sincerely amused despite the situation, and Charlie sat back again, surprised.

"What's so funny?" he asked him, confused.

Steve, still chuckling, looked at him for a moment before he replied. "You and I have been here before, Chief." he said to him, seemingly still amused but with an underlying tone of steel in his voice. "Me investigating your less than legal working practices. Do you remember the Senator's wife?"

Charlie nodded slowly - that was one he was not proud of. He had been reticent with the detective in front of him, so much so that when all the evidence pointed to him being involved in a double homicide Steve had had no choice but to list him as a suspect and refuse him access to the case. Even after he had threatened to fire him over it. "But I had nothing to do with that." he protested. "You found that out."

Steve nodded. "Only because I found out the truth from the pile of lies you and everyone else were giving me." he replied reasonably. "And now I was wondering whether you want to get arrested by IAD. And since you haven't answered my question about Kanan, I guess I should go and ask IAD to find out for me." He struggled to stand, but before he could do more than place his hands on the arms of the chair to push himself to his feet Charlie had stood and was striding over to him.

"Are you threatening me?" he demanded as he leant his own arms on the arms of the chair and glared in Steve's eyes. "Because if you are…"

"What?" the Lieutenant demanded of him when he didn't continue. "You'll what, Chief? Shoot me? The Trainors have already done that. Kill me? They've already done that too. Maybe you'll frame my father for two murders you know he didn't commit." he added with a musing expression on his face. "Oh, I forgot." he added, and looked up that the Chief with ice in his eyes, now allowing himself to get angry. "You've already done that. Why, Chief? Because he solves more murders than you?"

Charlie glared at him. "You know we had evidence, Steve." he said to him firmly. "Don't insult me like that."

"I don't need to." Steve retorted angrily. "Your actions over this do that for me. How could you think that a photo of Spring Dano with a grey-haired man was conclusive proof of my father's guilt? Did it ever occur to you that Ganza was also grey? How could you think that a landlady who, by the way, has now turned up dead, could recognise my father from anyone else that turned up at the place? What about the bank records? I've checked those, there were no instances of any rent cheques going through any of my father's accounts. At all. But you said nothing about that at the trial. You've fought for people you've thought were not guilty on much stronger evidence than was at my Dad's trial. Why did you let it happen? Am I next on your list? Is that why they knew where we were going to be at 5am in the morning?"

Charlie shook his head and softened a little at the look of pain, anger, and bewilderment in those large eyes glaring up at him. "No." he said to him, and relaxed his stance. "If I did have a list, and I don't." he added quickly. "You and your Dad would be the last people I would ever put on it." He sighed and pulled up the other chair close to the Lieutenant and sat beside him. "Ross Kanan is working for me." he explained to him truthfully. "You are right on that one. He's been undercover in the Ganza organisation for two years, working in my Organised Crime task force."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. "The same as Tanis." he stated. "But I guess she doesn't know."

Charlie shook his head. "Not yet." he admitted, eventhough it wasn't a question. "But this is not about your father."

Steve frowned in confusion. "Then why are you stopping us from getting his conviction over-turned?" he asked him, bewildered. "The Ganza organisation is bankrupt, I think that's got a lot to do with Ian Trainor, but I can't find the evidence to link it in yet. Everyone is now yelling about a gang war, but the only people who have been killed are the top ranking members of the Ganza crew. All of that points to Kanan, killing his way to the top. Is that part of your plan?"

Charlie shook his head. "No." he said to him firmly. "Ross' orders are just to make sure that he gets to control the organisation, not do any killing."

Steve nodded thoughtfully. "Are you sure he's not taking his orders literally?" he asked him quietly. "If he's been there for two years, he may have forgotten who he is." He then frowned a little in consternation. "I was there for two months and got information that we could use to go trial. How come it's taken him two years?"

Charlie smiled and gently laid a hand on his nearest knee. "You must be better at it than he is." he said to him, fondly.

Steve snorted in derision and shook his head. "I don't think so." he disagreed. "It's too much like breaking the law to me. Anyway, that doesn't help my father. What are we going to do? And if you tell me nothing, that he's safe enough where he is, I'll smack you around with my stick."

Charlie chuckled and nodded. "Ross told me how dangerous you were with that." he replied. "Don't worry too much about him. I would say go home and rest, and leave it to me, but I know that would fall on deaf ears."

Steve looked at him, again his eyes were hard as ice. "I did leave it to you." he commented darkly, showing the Chief just how easily he could turn. "And my father ended up in prison, because someone faked evidence and you fell for it. I don't trust you to help me, Charlie but I would like you too. Can you do that for me?"

The Chief sighed silently and thought about it. There wasn't much he would refuse the sandy-haired Lieutenant in front of him, but there was much more at stake here than the fate of his father, however beloved he was. "At the moment you're on sick leave." he said to him, knowing full well what reaction that would get from him. And he was right - Steve bristled with anger and disbelief, and he forced himself out of his chair, ignoring the hand on his leg. "Fine." he said to him stonily. "At the moment I'm a private citizen, and I have the right to complain about you, as well as finding the evidence myself." he snapped at him angrily. "I'll do the work to get him out, and the real killers caught, and you can just sit here with your head up your ass, as usual."

Charlie stayed where he was and watched him limp out of the office. He jumped when Steve slammed the door behind him, and knew he was going to regret everything about the conversation he had just had. And that Steve was going to make sure he did, after he had proved the department had been wrong, and gotten his Dad freed on his own.

Later that afternoon Ross contacted the Chief to tell him that Steve had been sniffing around again, and he was worried. His own people were getting pissed off that he was letting a cop get so close, and one that had caused their old boss and several of their colleagues to be killed on top of that. "I've had to stop them from going after him several times." Ross protested to him. "Especially when he turns up and walks all over them, even though he is still using a stick."

Charlie had to chuckle at that. "Because he's more lethal with just that than they could ever be." he commented dryly.

Ross grinned at the other end of the line. "Do you think I could get him to be my second here?" he asked him, deviously.

Charlie laughed outright at that. "If we wanted them all to end up either dead or in prison, yes." he said to him in reply. Then he sighed and got serious. "The only way he's going to leave this alone is…" he began, but Ross cut him off.

"Is if you get off your butt and get his Dad out of prison." he snapped at him, suddenly annoyed. "I spent three months in his company, I like him, and I'm not going to let him get killed. Task force, or no task force."

The Chief sighed again. "All right." he said in reply. "Can you come in later on?" he asked him. "I think we need a brain storm."

Ross nodded and then noticed that he wouldn't be able to see him. "Yes." he agreed. "Then we can get this over with. I'll see you about 5pm." he told him. "Make sure I don't get seen there, okay?"

"Sure." the Chief said to him. "Come in through the basement. I'll get Steve there."

Steve woke from a restless doze on the sofa in the living room when he heard a knock on the front door. He groaned and covered his eyes with his hand, but the unwanted visitor knocked again. "All right, all right." he said to himself softly and forced himself up to his feet. Making sure he had his stick handy if he needed to protect himself he walked over to the front door and checked through the peephole to see whom it was. Chief Masters was waiting for him, and he looked calm for once.

Steve sighed again, knowing the stubborn man wouldn't leave if he asked him, and opened the door. "Chief." he greeted him unhappily. "What are you going to arrest me for?"

Charlie gave him an exaggerated sigh. "Nothing at the moment, Lieutenant." he told him, and reached forward to gently grasp one of his arms. "I need your presence at the station." With that brief explanation he tried to pull his sub-ordinate out of the house and towards his car, but Steve planted his feet on the floor and stood his ground.

"What for?" he demanded shortly. "I thought I was on sick leave."

Charlie studied his obstreperous officer and sighed again. "You can be annoying." he told him flatly. "I'm trying to get us together to get your Dad out - I've arranged for two other people to meet us at the station, with some food, where we can go through the information you and Tanis have already gathered. But I need you to be there, Steve. Please." he explained to him. "You have most of the information stored up in that brain of yours."

Steve frowned at him for a moment and thought that he was being serious. "Who are you, and what have you done with the Chief?" he asked him. "Not that I mind the change, of course."

Charlie smiled at him. "Get your butt into my car, now." he said to him forcefully. "Is that better?"

Steve smiled too, a gesture he hadn't felt like giving sincerely for a while. "All right." he said to him. "Let me just lock up. Dad'll go nuts if I left the place unlocked."

Charlie smiled at him and let him do the chore. It didn't take long, the weather wasn't nice so Steve hadn't opened any of the windows or the patio doors, so he just grabbed his stick and made sure he locked the front door behind him. "Lead on, Jeeves." he commented impudently and let the Chief lead him to the car he had brought with him. Charlie opened the passenger door for him with a flourish and a grin. "Please park yourself in the seat, Sir." he instructed roundly. "And I will endeavour to get you to your destination."

Steve laughed quietly at him, again something he hadn't felt like doing for ages.

Charlie made sure his detective stayed in the car at the prison, a lot of people had been put there because of him and he was too fragile in his present state to deal with their insults and heckling. His Lieutenant was grateful for his concern; he sat in the back of the Chief's car and closed his eyes as he waited for his father. Everything was going down today, he, Charlie and Tanis had already moved the money they had found in the warehouse to the 'plane, and Steve had taken great pleasure in watching his superior officer spike Trainor's drink. Charlie had then taken the ass hole to the plane and left him there, knowing he would take a couple of hours to wake, and picked up the Lieutenant on his way to the prison. He had pulled a lot of strings to get this done, yelled at the DA and the Governor to see sense, and Steve didn't really want to know what he had threatened them with to get his Dad out before they had legitimately cleared him. He didn't care about the politics of it though, all he wanted was to see him again, may be even snuggle up with him in the back of the car, and tell himself that he was there, and he was real. On that thought, he opened his eyes again to look around him. It had felt like he had been sitting there for a few hours, but it must only have been ten minutes, definitely not long enough to get all the procedures out of the way. He ground his teeth in frustration and sank a little further into his seat.

Mark thought he would kiss the Chief when he saw him outside his small, claustrophobic cell, especially when the door opened and he was smiling at him. "Come on, Mark." he said to him in greeting and held out his hand to him. "I've got someone who really wants to see you, outside."

Mark stood and walked out to him. "Outside?" he asked him, concerned and confused. "Really?"

Charlie nodded. "Steve has cleared most of it all up." he told him and slid a companionable arm around his shoulders. "We've just got to do the sweeping up. We both thought you would like to be there at the conclusion."

Mark nodded, he would, but he really needed to be with his son. "Where is he?" he asked him as they walked out of the cellblock. "Outside?"

The Chief nodded. "I thought it best if he stayed outside in the carpark." he explained to him as they made their way to the reception. "Between the pair of you, you've probably filled half of the cells here, I didn't want him having to come through this."

Mark nodded, he understood and was grateful. He didn't want to do it either, but to get out of this godforsaken hell hole he and Charlie would have to walk past two corridors full of cells and prisoners, and he thought that he could deal with it better now than Steve would. His son was still ill from the shooting, and he had been injured again a few days ago, and he really needed to see him, so he took a deep breath and walked through the corridors quickly and looking straight ahead. As the Chief had predicted both of them were not popular there, and the catcalls and insults were loud but mostly ignored.

Until someone started to insult Steve. Mark was going to stop then and reply, but he didn't have too. Charlie was on the man before he could, grabbing him round the throat and pressing him up against the bars of the cell. He towered over the criminal, and glared at him from inches away as he slowly choked the life out of him. "Do you want to say that again, you piece of shit?" he demanded in a low, dangerous tone. "Or do you want to die? Here, now?"

The man shook his head in sudden fear and tried, fruitlessly, to bat away the hand at his throat. When his lips turned blue, Mark had to stop it. He walked over and pulled gently at the Chief's arm. "Come on." he said to him quietly. "He's not worth it. Let him rot in here."

Charlie stared at him for a few moments before he agreed and let him go. "All right." he said to him quietly, and then pulled him away with him. "Are you all right?"

Mark nodded. "I think I should ask you that." he commented, and then smiled at him. "Thanks." he said to him gratefully. "For that, and bringing him here."

Charlie shook his head. "No." he disagreed. "I should have listened to him in the first place, then none of this would have happened." Mark didn't argue with him, and he followed him to the desk when they got to the lobby.

In less than ten minutes all the papers had been signed, all of his belongings had been checked and returned to him, and he was walking out of the prison, he hoped for good.

Steve looked up from his study of the bandage on his hand and saw a sight that he was frightened he would never see: his father, walking out of the prison lobby, across the carpark to the car. He was dressed in the blue denim of the uniform, it looked as if he had lost weight, but he was striding towards him with a grim determination. He wanted to get out of there as much as his son wanted to get him out, Steve knew. He grinned, and quickly unlocked his door and climbed out, and limped as fast as he could over to him. "Dad!" he crowed in delight as he got close. Mark's grin split his face in half and he dropped the bundle of his belongings he carried onto the ground and opened his arms out to him. "Steve!" he greeted him as well, and threw his arms around him when they came together. Steve embraced him too, and they hugged each other tightly. "Dad." his son murmured as he buried himself in his arms. "Oh Gods. Dad."

Mark held him tightly; an arm around his shoulders, the other hand buried in his soft hair. "I'm here." he said to him with a tearful smile. "You did it, I'm so proud of you."

Steve lifted his head to look at him, his own smile tearful as well. "I didn't do it all on my own, Dad." he said to him, self-depreciating as usual. "I had help."

Charlie stepped in at that. He had picked up Mark's things and had watched them with a smile. "You did most of it, Steve." he told him firmly and gently laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "Other people have just helped with the logistics. Talking of which…" he added, checking his watch. "I think we should get going. I'm sure neither of you want to miss the completion of this, and I'm sure you don't want to stay here any longer."

Mark glanced at him and nodded but didn't let his son go. He surprised him by gently pressing a kiss to his forehead before he let go of his hair. With a possessive arm still around his waist they walked together to the car, following Charlie. The Chief opened the passenger door for the doctor, but he shook his head. "No." he said to him. "The last time I was this close to my son he was still in hospital. I'll sit in the back with him. If that's okay?" he quickly asked the man in question. Steve nodded and smiled. "Sure." he said to him. In fact he was grateful for it, he had missed his father terribly, the house had been so empty without him, despite Jessie almost moving in, and any touch from him now was very much appreciated. Charlie smiled fondly as the son climbed into the back of the car with his father, and then climbed in himself. Steve had worked like a Trojan to get him out, he had no doubts whatsoever that his father was innocent, and he had not cared that his stubbornness had definitely been very bad for his health, and even put him in a situation where his life was in danger. Again. So he let him sit close to his father and talk to him quietly in the back of the car, and he drove them to the airport and gave them some privacy.

Mark had noticed the bandage on his son's arm, and he took a gentle hold of that hand in his own and studied it for a moment. "Charred around the edges, huh?" he asked him bleakly, and looked up at him with a frown. "How bad is it?"

Steve knew he couldn't hide anything from his father, and he didn't even bother. "It hurts." he admitted to him. "Jesse cleaned and dressed it, but it throbs. I think he said it was second degree."

Mark nodded and studied him a bit more. "Anything else I need to know?" he asked him, concerned. "I can see you've not been eating properly, or sleeping either. Have you got any other injuries?"

Steve smiled slightly at him. "Some cuts and scrapes on my back." he answered him truthfully. "But they're okay. And you can't have a go at me about not eating. You've lost weight too." he protested good-naturedly and poked him in the ribs with a gentle finger.

Mark smiled and let go of his hand to pull him into a hug again. "Well, maybe we can put it back on together." he said to him, and smiled slightly when he felt his son's uninjured arm slip around his neck to hang on. He had no intentions of letting him go, and he smiled and buried his face in his soft hair when his son tried to burrow under the skin of his chest.

Charlie glanced at them in the rear view mirror and smiled at the scene happening behind him. Mark was sitting in the corner of the back seat, Steve was curled up on the seat next to him, his face buried in his chest, his arm around his neck, and he was being held tightly by the Doctor. Charlie had known they were close, but now he had evidence of exactly that, and he approved and stayed silent.

Father and son only let each other go when they both noticed the engine had ceased and they had stopped somewhere. Steve looked up and around them, and noted their position. "Did you spot Trainor?" he asked his boss curiously. "Is he here yet?"

Charlie shook his head and turned round in his seat to face him. "The plane is where we left it." he assured him with a smile. "I can see it from here. While you two were snuggling I called the others; they're all in position too. The people at Trainor's office will call me when he's on the move."

Mark frowned in confusion at this. He had wanted to be with his son so much he had not even cared where they were going and what for, but now they were obviously up to something. "What's going on?" he asked them both, and gently tugged his child back against him again. "Steve? What have you planned?"

Charlie chuckled at the evil little smile his detective gave his father. "I bet he was a nightmare when he was a kid." he said to the doctor. "I think he's the most devious non-criminal I've ever met."

Mark chuckled his agreement and looked down at his amused son. "What have you done now, Son?" he asked him, curiously.

Steve grinned. "We found out what all this shit was about." he told him truthfully. He knew his father didn't like to hear him swear but he had spent the last four months in pain and fear caused by the Trainor brothers, and the last thing on his mind now was his language. "Half a billion dollars of Ganza's money was stolen by Ian Trainor. He and Malcolm arranged for my shooting, and the subsequent murders that you were accused of." His voice tremoured then and he looked away, but Mark noticed and hugged him tightly against him. His words had brought back painful memories of his son lying almost dead in the ICU and he did not want to be reminded of that ever again. Now he felt so alive in his arms and against his chest and he prayed to whatever he held dear that he would never have to go through that again. "It's all right." he murmured to him, hoping the Chief wouldn't hear. "It's over."

Steve looked up at him, his blue eyes hard with determination. "Almost." he said firmly to him. "It ends here. We found the cash and put it in the plane. Charlie then went with another couple of people and found, drugged and wired Malcolm and stashed him in there." He indicated with a finger to the private Lear jet that stood on the asphalt some way away but just in view. "I then called his brother and left a message with his secretary, telling her that I was the pilot and Malcolm was asking me to get him out of the country."

Mark grinned at him as evilly. "So making Ian think that he's leaving with the money." he finished for him. Charlie nodded. "We're hoping that he'll shoot Malcolm and save me the bother." he told the Doctor firmly. "And Steve found evidence that they've killed another seven people as well as Ganza and Spring, so they are both headed for the chair too." he added.

Mark was astounded. "Seven?" he asked them both. "Why?"

"So it would look like Ganza's death had started a gang war." Steve explained to him. "And that it would cover up what they were doing."

"And they also tried again to get your little boy there." Charlie admitted grimly too with a nod in Steve's direction. "They almost succeeded. Twice."

Mark nodded and Charlie ignored the angry look aimed his way from the detective as he was swallowed up in his father's embrace again. "Almost." the Doctor agreed quietly and gently nuzzled him. "Malcolm kept on taunting me." he admitted. "About how easily someone as weak as you could get caught in an accident. Or an explosion. And how burns can get infected." He shuddered and Steve felt it. "I'm okay." he tried to reassure him, and hugged him back. "Dad, it's okay, don't worry."

"I do." his father told him softly. "How can I not worry? I love you."

Anything Steve said in reply was hidden from the Chief and he was almost grateful that his phone rang at that moment. Even after everything that had happened he didn't think he had the right to listen to what they said to each other, so he turned away and let them have their moments while he spoke to the person on the phone. It was the squad he had left looking out for Ian Trainor at his company, and they were confirming that he had just left the building. "Follow him." he ordered them firmly. "But not too close. I don't want him scared off. If he doesn't come here, call me immediately."

The officer on the other end hung up with an affirmative, and when he turned back to the other two in the car he found himself confronted with two identical pairs of blue eyes demanding an explanation. He smiled and nodded. "He's on the way here." he told them both. "It'll take him about ten minutes."

"Will Malcolm be awake when he gets here?" Mark asked him, concerned.

Steve looked at his watch and then remembered that he hadn't worn one because of the bandages on his arm. "Jesse said the drug would wear off in an hour." he explained to his father. "Charlie'll tell you what time we dosed him up." He looked a little bit embarrassed about it, and Charlie hid his smile at his slight blush. It added a bit of colour on his face, which made him look better than he had in months.

The Chief chuckled and looked at his own watch. "About an hour ago." he told them, a little smugly he had to admit. "Hopefully in about five minutes or so we should get some action."

Mark looked at his son and knew what the light in his eyes meant. "Please stay in the car, Steve." he asked him, concerned again for his safety. "They've already tried to kill you twice."

The Lieutenant frowned. "But I want to be there." he protested. "I have a right to."

"Your father's right on this one." Charlie agreed. "I'll drive up there when we get the evidence from them so you'll be there. But I think it's sensible if you stay out of reach. In the car." He looked at him steadily and knew that he was thinking of a reason why he should be allowed to get out. "No." he said firmly to him when he opened his mouth. "But…" Steve tried, but Charlie shook his head. "No." he said again. "You are staying in the car."

"I…" the Lieutenant tried again.

"You heard him." Mark cut him off as well, trying to hide a smile. "You're staying in the car."

"But…"

Mark could see the frustration he was in trying to get more than one word out, but neither were going to let him. "No." he said again, as firmly as the Chief. "You are staying in the car, or I'll ground you for six months. Got it?"

Steve glared at him good naturedly. "I'm…" he tried to protest.

"…Staying in the car." Charlie finished for him. "Good, that's settled." he added and then turned away back to the plane.

Mark chuckled and pulled him close to him again. "I'm not a kid." the Lieutenant protested as he was cuddled. "And I don't like being steam rollered."

Mark grinned against his forehead. "But you looked so cute." he said to him, fondly amused, and knowing he would hate it. "And you'll be safe in here. I need you to be safe."

Charlie stopped anything Steve was going to say by his two, terse, grim words. "He's here."

Both occupants in the back crowded the gap between the seats so they could see, and Charlie turned up the volume of his listening device so they could hear what was going on. Malcolm was just climbing groggily out of the plane as his brother drove up, they couldn't have timed it better if they had tried.

Steve had to admit to himself as he listened to the pair argue that he was actually quite glad he did not have to confront either of them there, especially when Malcolm shot Ian. At that point they had enough evidence on tape to convict them both on all charges, and that was when Charlie indicated to the people watching to move in. He floored the accelerator and Mark quickly grabbed his son and pushed him back into the seat before he could get hurt again. "Please, Steve." he said to him quietly and quickly. "Stay down, in the car. I can't have them hurt you again."

The Lieutenant nodded. "Stay back as well." he said to him firmly. "Let Charlie do all the work." Mark nodded and hugged him swiftly again. The car had come to a standstill, he had to let him go. "Stay down." he told him firmly again, and got out of the car. Steve did as he was told, he didn't want to get hurt again. He stayed in the back, but he didn't cower behind the seats as both Charlie and Mark had wanted him to do, just in case Malcolm started shooting at them. But the bust went according to plan, both brothers were taken away in handcuffs, and he had heard his father asking that Ian not be taken in Community General. He approved of that, he knew Mark would want to return to work as soon as possible and the last person he wanted him treating was an ass hole that had caused them all these problems.

Mark sighed in relief as he watched the two police cars drive off with his nemesis in handcuffs in the back. He and the Chief looked at each other across the top of the car Steve was safely ensconced in, and they both smiled at each other. "It's over, Mark." Charlie said to him, relieved too. "Climb back in, I'll take you both home."

Mark nodded. "Over." he murmured, and stared thoughtfully at nothing for a few moments. "They almost got away with it."

"Almost." Charlie added firmly. "But your son wasn't going to let them, or anyone else for that matter." he said with a prideful tone in his voice. "Take him home, Mark. He's not had enough sleep or food for the last four weeks since he got out of hospital. And I'm sure you need time at home as well."

The Doctor nodded. "Homeward, Driver." he said to him with an impish grin, and the same twinkle in his eye that he had been blessed with before any of this started. Then he got back into the back of the car before the Chief had a chance to do anything other than chuckle and shake his head ruefully. He got in too, and smiled at the view that he got from the rear view mirror. Father and son were snuggled up together again, Mark must have pulled the Lieutenant back into his grip as soon as he had closed the door behind him, and from the looks of things neither were planning to let each other go again.

Later, at home, after Mark had had a shower and changed out of those awful prison clothes, he walked back onto the deck where Steve had sat down and smiled at him fondly. He was dozing in one of the loungers there, his face aimed towards the weak winter sun, and he looked cherubic. His blanket had fallen off his shoulders and his father walked over to him and gently tucked it in around him again, making sure he was completely covered. The afternoon was warm, the breeze coming off the sea was gentle, and the sound of the waves breaking on the sand nearby was almost hypnotic. He knew Steve loved the sea, sometimes he thought his child was part ocean, especially when those deep, blue eyes studied him thoughtfully, seeing everything there was about him. There wasn't much he could hide from him, which made surprising him or getting him gifts was extremely difficult, but he had been told that about himself as well. This though, was the best gift he had ever been given, only second to his children, he thought to himself as he sat down in the chair next to him. He had thought that he would never be able to do this again, just sit somewhere with his son, first of all when he was shot and almost killed, and then when the judge had delivered his sentence. He had been stricken then with anger for the quality of the frame, but it had hurt worse knowing that whoever had perpetrated this had taken his beloved son away from him too. He could have strangled Jesse for letting Steve go to the court on that dreadful day, but he did know how forceful his son could be when he wanted something, especially when it wasn't good for him. But he was also grateful for his stubbornness and love, if he hadn't been so demanding he knew he would still be in that cell, Trainor would be out, and Steve, would, most likely, be dead. He wasn't though, he was alive, not as unwell as he had feared, and they were together. Just to make sure he wasn't dreaming this he gently reached out and smoothed a lock of his son's hair off his forehead and back where it belonged.

Steve stirred at his touch and opened his eyes, and smiled sleepily at him, which made him look fifteen again. "Hey, Dad." he said quietly to him in greeting. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now." Mark assured him with a smile. "Now I'm home. Are you warm enough?"

Steve nodded. "Toasty." he agreed and pulled the blanket a little higher up his shoulders with his hand under it. "I'm glad you're home, Dad." he whispered as his eyes closed again. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." his father assured him, and gently stroked his face with the backs of his fingers. "Go back to sleep. Everything's okay now."

Reassured and lulled by his father's voice and the sound of the sea, Steve easily slipped into a deep, healing slumber, and let everything pass him by. For a while.