shallowz

Title: Epilogos

Rating: PG

Characters: Murdoch, Johnny, and Scott Lancer

Word Count: around 11,000 total

Warnings/Spoilers: Alternate Reality

Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and premises of many talented people. Essentially - not ours, no profit being made, etc. This is just for fun.
Summary: Sequel to Praeambulus, Intermedius, and Concludere. Now comes the hard part of living apart.

Thanks to Con for betaing. We continued to putter with it, so all errors are ours.

~o~0~o~

May 20, 1866

Johnny snuck into his darkened room with every intention of getting a couple of hours of sleep before dawn. Maybe he’d catch a siesta sometime in the afternoon if he needed it. Murdoch was due back from his trip to Sacramento sometime today, and he wanted to spend some time with his father.

The second he closed his door behind him he knew he wasn’t alone.

“It’s just me, Johnny.”

So much for sneaking in; but apparently he was going to spend some time with Murdoch earlier than he had thought. Sighing, he relaxed and looked towards the chair where his father’s voice had come from.

“If there was one advantage to seeing you and Scott again as young men, it was avoiding having that awkward conversation that my father had with me when I had discovered the joys of the fairer sex. What could I possibly tell you that you don’t already know?”

Johnny couldn’t stop the smirk, or hide it when Murdoch lit the lamp. “Yeah, you’re probably too late with that one.”

Blowing out the match, his father looked long and hard at him: Enough that Johnny actually fidgeted.

“Do I need to worry about any unknown grandchildren?”

“Wha… No!”

“Are you sure, Johnny?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I wasn’t goin’ to have no kid grow up like…” He didn’t want to finish that.

“Like you did?” Murdoch finished gently.

“I made sure, Murdoch.” Johnny met his father’s look straight on.

“Thank you, Johnny. I do want you to be careful, but know that should something happen, I don’t want you to hide it from me.”

“I won’t.” And Johnny was surprised that he meant it, but this was embarrassing. “This is awkward, Murdoch.”

Smiling, Murdoch’s shoulders relaxed and he settled back in the chair. “I actually enjoyed it. Think I’ll do the same with Scott when he comes home.”

~o~0~o~

May 26, 1866

Julie smiled up at him, radiant, and lovely. She fit him, and Scott knew they made a handsome couple waltzing together on the dance floor. Tonight, they would announce their engagement, and Scott couldn’t be more pleased.

He certainly knew his grandfather would be.

Somehow, Scott knew he could make this all work. Julie was concerned with her father’s health and the faltering family business; however, Scott, as an engagement surprise for his future fiancé, had taken steps to shore up Dennison’s business, and one of those was to hire a competent manager. Emmet Crawford was more than competent. This was a man who enjoyed the challenge of taking a business that was teetering on the edge and making it solvent.

Perhaps Scott’s actions could be viewed as interference or high-handed; but he dearly wanted to relieve that worry from Julie, and also make it clear that the Dennison’s were family. Charles Dennison had been a very good businessman; but ill health had side-lined him, and poor choices had been made. Scott genuinely liked his future father-in-law, and wanted to do this as much for him as for Julie.

Charles was improving, but he would never be the robust man he once was. Heading a company would only drain him, and this was the most feasible answer.

And Scott had every intention of keeping his promise to Murdoch and Johnny. With Julie’s main concerns laid to rest, she would go with him to California. More than anything, he wanted the woman he loved to meet his family.

Tonight, he would tell her.

~o~0~o~

Johnny sat on the corral fence staring off east as was a habit that had formed since Scott’s departure. Murdoch wondered what went through his son’s mind when he engaged in this activity. Johnny didn’t do it every night; but more often when the hands rode out Saturday night for town, and Johnny refused to be talked into going with them. They both held to the agreement made during the summer regarding Johnny’s forays into town. Johnny always informed him when he was going, and Murdoch acknowledged and accepted that his son was an adult with the same choices to make.

The past week had been unrelenting in one crisis after another, and Murdoch had rarely had a moment with Johnny. Tonight the ranch was quiet; the type evening Murdoch always enjoyed, but even more so when he could spend it with his son.

“Hey,” Johnny greeted as Murdoch folded his arms over the fence.

“Nice out here.” Murdoch looked over his shoulder, and Johnny grinned down at him.

“It smells like manure.”

Murdoch was surprised at the laughter that burst out of him, but Johnny’s deadpan delivery was priceless.

“So it does, but it’s still nice.”

Johnny nodded and looked off again. “Yeah, it is. Like it when it’s quiet like this.”

“Is that why you don’t go into town?”

Johnny shrugged. “Sometimes.”

The sudden flash of insight took Murdoch’s breath away. Johnny stayed for him. Not enough to make it obvious, but he stayed for him.

“I miss your brother.” Murdoch laid a hand over Johnny’s knee, and his son looked down at him, eyes unreadable. “I wonder how he’s managing the cold. If he’s remaining healthy, because I doubt he would reveal that to us.”

“Wouldn’t want us to worry.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“You worried about him gettin’ married?”

“Scared to death,” Murdoch admitted with a sigh. “I want him to be happy, but I so much want him to come home.”

Silence, then Johnny laid his hand over Murdoch’s.

“Me too.”

~o~0~o~

Somehow, Scott had misplaced Julie. He had left her to pick up some drinks from the buffet table, but upon his return she wasn’t there. Throughout the night he had noticed an increased tension in her, but marked it down to the impending engagement announcement. Now he wasn’t so sure, and sought her out to determine the cause of her unease.

If there were issues, they needed to be resolved now. And, it would be a perfect time to let her know that the Dennison business was in competent hands.

He found her in one of the small sunrooms far from the ballroom, staring out one of the windows. Her reflection clearly showed a troubled woman.

“Julie?” There was no mistaking the glitter of tear tracks on her face when she glanced over her shoulder. Achingly familiar with the sinking sensation that his happiness was about to be torn to shreds, he set the glasses down and joined her at the window. Leaning against the sill, he watched as she took a deep breath and met his gaze.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped at the tears on her face and sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you tell me why you are apologizing.”

“I cannot marry you.”

Well, he had expected the blow, but that didn’t make it any easier to take.

“May I know why?”

“I lied to you.”

“You don’t love me.”

With a soft, watery laugh, she ran her hand over his upper arm. “No, not that. Scott, out of everything that was the one thing I find I have not lied about.” She smiled, and he knew she spoke true. “I do love you, and because of that, I can’t go through with this.”

“What is this?”

“Your grandfather approached me and the short story is that I was the romantic decoy to keep you in Boston. He threatened my father’s business, and I was so frightened of what that would do to him, that I agreed to Harlan’s plans to keep you here.”

Oddly, Scott wasn’t surprised. He didn’t feel much of anything at the revelation except relief. Relief that he no longer had to chose between one family and the other. In spite of everything, Scott had held some worry about leaving his grandfather, strange as it may be, but he did, and now?

There truly wasn’t anything left. Scott just felt tired.

“So if you love me, why didn’t you just go through with it?” He was curious, because Scott did believe they could have made it work.

“You are a good, honorable man, and I wanted to live up to that.” This time her hand drifted down to enfold his. “If this had not all started as a sham, I would marry you; but you deserve so much better than this.”

“And if I tell you I still love you?”

“Don’t. Not yet. Maybe someday when there has been some distance between us I will arrive on your doorstep at Lancer. If you welcome me we will go from there.” Her smile was wide and genuine; the truth in the old cliché had ‘set her free’. “I would love to meet this wild brother of yours, and your father who is taller than anyone. I would like to see Lancer in all its openness and I’d love to see you there. I have a feeling it suits you better than the artifice of this world, and that is the Scott Lancer I would like to meet.”

Scott swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “I'm grateful to know the truth. Thank you.”

Squeezing his hand, she reached up with her other hand to gently touch his cheek. “Would you mind if we went home?”

“Of course not.” In fact there was nothing he wanted more. Julie slipped her arm in his, and they turned to leave only to be stopped by Harlan Garrett standing in the doorway.

“You foolish child.” He shook his head, his expression cold.

Julie stiffened beside him, but didn’t turn away. “Mr. Garrett, I’m not so certain who is the foolish one in this room.”

“Grandfather, I’m taking Julie home.” Scott pulled Julie with him deciding a confrontation at the Bishops’ would hardly serve a purpose. He looked enough like an idiot. He had a sudden wish that Johnny was here with his irreverent humor to make it better.

Scott missed him.

“Scotty, this is a mere-”

“Not now. Please, sir. I’ve heard enough tonight.” In the carriage, he would reveal his engagement gift to Julie, and with bitter humor he realized that it would be entertaining to stymie Harlan Garrett in this one thing. His grandfather hated to be outwitted in business, and that is what Scott had done inadvertently. Harlan had spoken of hiring Crawford for years, but was dismayed at the man’s tendency to make business deals advantageous for all parties concerned.

So unlike Harlan Garrett; and that, Scott thought, was the highest endorsement he could give the man.

~o~0~o~

June 22, 1866

Dear Murdoch and Johnny,

Thank you for your missive detailing the recent events at the ranch. As ever, they are informative and entertaining.

I imagine it is quite hot there at this time of year. Maria and Consuela are no doubt spoiling you with the delicious lemonade that only they seem capable of making. Have I told you that I have woken in the middle of the night craving a glass? It’s true. I have even spoken about it at length to Julie. She indulges me for the most part.

I am close to finishing my classes at Harvard due to spending more time on my studies as of late. Johnny, I hope you do not mind, but I have collected numerous books for your own education. Some are from the classes I elected to take, and others I thought would be of interest to you or to the both of us. There is so much I would like to share with you.

Murdoch paused to see Johnny’s reaction. He was concerned that Johnny hadn’t had the educational opportunities that Scott was fortunate to access with ease.

“Never thought of anyone gettin’ books for me.” Johnny looked pleased. “Wonder what they’re about.”

“It’ll be interesting to see what he has collected.” Murdoch found his place in the letter again and was shocked by the next line.

There has been a change in my future plans. Julie and I have dissolved our engagement by mutual agreement. It was not the right time for us, and there were circumstances that made continuing with our plans to marry difficult. I am very grateful to Julie Dennison for being a person of integrity. She is a wonderful woman, and we remain the best of friends. Someday I hope you will meet her.

Grandfather has continued my instruction of the Garrett holdings, and I continue to learn a great deal from him. He has accomplished so much in his area of expertise, but I know it is not the occupation for me. All I have learned has value, and it pleases him to see that I have a talent for accounting. However, I will never be the businessman that he is.

Thank you for your recent letters. They cheered me when I was in a rather low mood. Please pass on my regards to everyone.

Scott

Murdoch was worried now in a different way he hadn’t been after reading Scott’s other letters. His son had been so happy with Julie. What could have happened?

“Think ol’ Harlan had something to do with the engagement being called off?” Johnny was staring at the letter Murdoch still had in his hands.

“Why would he? It was to his benefit have Scott marry someone from Boston, who most likely would want to stay in Boston.” Murdoch skimmed through the letter again, hoping it would provide an answer this time. Nothing.

“So, I’m thinkin’ I’ll see some of this Boston Scott’s been talkin’ about.”

Murdoch met Johnny’s eyes. “We’ll pick you up some suitable clothing along the way.”

~o~0~o~

July 1, 1866

Scotty’s twenty-first birthday was fast approaching, and Harlan knew he had lost ground with keeping his grandson with him. He would have to move along with his plans to convince Scotty to remain in Boston for his own good, as well as Murdoch’s.

~o~0~o~

July 10, 1866

From their hotel window, Murdoch looked out into the sweltering night, and then over to his sleeping son. Things were coming full circle. He had failed so miserably all those long years ago when he had gone to Boston to bring Scott home. His older son understood the reason why his father hadn’t fought for him, but that didn’t absolve Murdoch.

Once again he was returning to Boston to claim Scott, even if he was claiming a grown man. The fact that Johnny was included this time around only made the trip that much sweeter.

~o~0~o~

July 21, 1866

Scott was a little surprised that his grandfather asked him to have dinner with him that evening. Strained was the best he could describe their relationship as of late. Everyone in the house could feel it, and Scott was doing his best to keep things civil.

Both of them remained quiet until the main course arrived; and once they were left alone in the dining room, Harlan aimed an apologetic smile his way. “Scotty, I am sorry we have had difficulties these past months. I do wish your relationship with Julie had continued.”

“For whose benefit, sir?”

“For yours, Scotty. I know you love her.”

That was true enough, but what was the sense in bringing up this painful subject? “Yes, I do. However, the foundation of our relationship was based on a lie, and it failed before it truly started.”

“Nonsense.”

“Yes, of course. Nonsense.” Scott continued with his meal. If they were there to rehash old and hurtful news, he was at least going to finish the food this time around. He wished his grandfather wouldn’t instigate difficult conversations during dinner hour.

“Scotty, I was truly attempting to find a gentler way for you to decide to remain in Boston. Having someone to love and live out the rest of your life with was a better option than exposing the truth about your father.”

“Truth?”

“Your father is a murderer, and I have the proof.” His grandfather calmly ate a braised carrot before continuing. “A number of years ago, when you were a child, your father presented something of a threat to me. As a cautious man I took steps to protect myself. I had the Pinkerton Agency investigate him.”

Well, that successfully ended Scott’s interest in his meal. He listened as his grandfather told an incredibly detailed story about his father, a man name Degan, and his offspring. For a time, Scott was terrified of what this meant for Murdoch, and what was needed from Scott to prevent his father from being hanged for murder. Likely it was his complete and total compliance in remaining in Boston and taking his place in Garrett & Associates.

These Pinkerton’s did manage to acquire an amazing amount of information.

“Why haven’t you done anything with this evidence?”

“Scotty, as much as I despise the man for what he did to Catherine, she did choose him. I could not allow her death to be meaningless, and he is your father.”

Now Harlan acknowledged that fact. “And now?”

“If Julie was not enough for you to remain in Boston, I have a more convincing reason. Protecting Murdoch Lancer should be sufficient enough. I do this for your well-being, Scotty. Do not force me to take steps that will only make things difficult.”

~o~0~o~

“Yes, sir. I wouldn’t want to make things difficult for you.”

“Scotty, be reasonable.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.” In his precise way, Scotty removed the napkin from his lap and folded it before laying it on the table. “Sir, let’s be entirely clear here. To keep my father safe, I must remain in Boston.”

“Yes.”

“May I continue to correspondence with him and my brother?”

That was a sticking point, but he had planned for that. “No, Scotty, I think that would only make your decision more difficult. Cutting off all ties is the best for everyone.”

“Yes, I can see how you would think so.”

“In time, things will be as they were.” A few months at Lancer couldn’t change everything they had built through the years.

“No, sir, they will not.”

“Scotty?”

“I must congratulate you, sir. You’ve thought of everything and planned it down to the finest of details.”

Harlan couldn’t understand his grandson’s demeanor; it was so unusual, but he may need a little time to adjust. “I know you are a little upset right now.”

“Yes, a little. Sir, did your plans take into account any chance of keeping a relationship with a grandson. Or is that simply another casualty in your personal war with Murdoch Lancer?”

“Scotty-”

“It’s Scott.” His grandson stood from his chair. “Sir, I’m finished… with dinner.”

“Scotty, I am your grandfather!” He was losing something here. Scotty was more upset than he had expected.

His grandson walked away from the table. “No, sir, I doubt you truly ever were. You were, and have only ever been, Catherine Garrett’s father.”

Harlan watched his grandson’s retreating back and thought Scotty just needed time, but at least he was staying in Boston. Yes, that was it, just time.

It would all work out nicely.

~o~0~o~

Scott closed his bedroom door quietly, and leaned his back against it. Raising his trembling hand in front of his face, Scott huffed softly. Very rarely did he become so angry that he literally shook, but his grandfather caused it in the majority of those occasions.

After a deep calming breath, Scott regained his equilibrium and strode to his writing desk. Removing a piece of parchment and nib from the drawer, Scott began to make a mental list. First and foremost, Scott would set up an appointment with his lawyer, Jacob Redding, an acquaintance who had also survived the war and had returned to enter his father’s practice. Neither Jacob nor his father had any connections with Garrett & Associates, and he could count on their discretion.

It would mean divulging all the humiliating aspects of this distasteful tale, but Scott had survived humiliation before and would do so again if it meant knowing his father and brother were safe. He had no doubts that Harlan would go after Johnny next if it would somehow prevent Scott from leaving Boston.

In his desperation, Harlan Garrett was slipping, and Scott needed to exploit that. He dipped the nib in the inkwell and began to write.

~o~0~o~

August 27, 1866

Johnny looked around the busy train station. There were way too many people for Johnny to feel comfortable. Not to mention the type of clothing he had to wear to blend in. Guess a body had to grow up in Boston to have an appreciation for it. Not that there wasn’t a lot of interesting things to look at, but he was here for Scott.

Murdoch had insisted that he conceal his gun and that just felt wrong; he kept touching it in his coat pocket to make sure it was still there. “Where to next, Murdoch?”

“We’ll find a hotel once I send a wire off to Paul.”

“We goin’ to see Scott tonight?” Johnny had to ask, but he doubted they would. He picked up his bag in his left hand.

Picking up his own bag, Murdoch looked thoughtful and then resigned. “As much as I’d like to, we need to know what is going on. I don’t want to make things difficult for your brother in these last few days before he turns twenty-one. I don’t think Harlan will let that stop him from keeping Scott with him.”

“You think he’ll try somethin’?” They headed for the telegraph office.

“I think he probably already has.”

~o~0~o~

Murdoch was more than a little surprised to find a wire waiting for him. According to Paul, Scott’s lawyer was attempting to contact him on a ‘most urgent matter’ and would look forward to a quick response. Showing up at the lawyer’s doorstep tomorrow would have to be quick enough. He would have worried that something had happened to Scott except the wire had thoughtfully included ‘Scott fine’ on it.

“I don’t get it. Why’d Scott have a lawyer contact you instead of doin’ it himself?”

“Often business is taken care of by lawyers. Scott probably has reasons to keep things discreet and is allowing his lawyer to handle everything.”

“You think this has somethin’ to do with Garrett.”

“Yes I do.”

~o~0~o~

August 28, 1866

Scott was worried. Jacob hadn’t heard back from Lancer yet. Where was his father that he hadn’t responded to the telegram? Was Johnny all right? Was there trouble on the ranch? All these questions rolled around in his mind and kept him from sleeping.

~o~0~o~

Murdoch found the establishment of Redding & Redding easily enough. Upon entering the austere office, he discovered a handsome young man in the outer office. Murdoch noticed his left hand was missing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Johnny quickly checking the place over. It was a habit he believed his son would always have.

“Good morning, sir. May I help you?”

“Good morning. Yes, I’m looking for Jacob Redding.”

“I’m Jacob Redding. How may I be of assistance?” He walked towards them with his hand out.

Shaking his hand, Murdoch gestured toward himself and Johnny. “Actually, you have been attempting to reach me. I’m Murdoch Lancer and this is my son, John.”

The only sign of surprise on Redding’s part was a wide-eyed blink as he shook Johnny’s hand. “This is indeed a pleasant surprise. Please come into my office, and I will tell you what this is regarding.”

Once they were seated and coffee in hand, Jacob got down to business. “Scott approached me about this matter several weeks ago. Please know whatever you say to me is completely confidential. As you may know, Scott’s grandfather is pressuring him to remain in Boston and take a position with Garrett & Associates.”

“Yes, we’ve suspected as much.”

Working deftly one-handed, Redding pulled out a sheet of paper and prepared to write. “Mr. Garrett has threatened to expose you to the law for the murder of a Mr. Degan in 1846, unless Scott remains in Boston and ceases all relations with you and his brother.” He nodded towards Johnny.

“Degan?” Now that was a name Murdoch was not expecting to hear.

~o~0~o~

Murder? Johnny blinked, and looked at his father’s stunned profile. Seemed he and Scott weren’t the only one with secrets.

Murdoch turned to Johnny, his expression thoughtful and a little pained. “Degan.... I knew him, Johnny. It happened a long time ago, Johnny. See, I had received word that Scott's mother was very seriously ill. I'd been riding steady for about two days. It was about ten miles outside of Cartersville. I was cutting through the badlands. I had to ride through a narrow canyon when he started gunning for me.”

As Murdoch told the rest of the story, Johnny couldn’t see where murder came into it when Degan was the one who tried to bushwhack his father. He wasn’t the least surprised by Redding’s next question.

“Was the law informed?”

“I went to Sacramento, made my statement to the Federal Marshall. I was cleared. I thought that was the end of it. I guess other people had different ideas.”

“I will wire Sacramento and obtain the needed verification. Mr. Lancer, I wouldn’t worry about this. I believe Mr. Garrett chose what part of the past he wanted Scott to hear.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Johnny shifted in his chair, and ran his hands down the arm of the chair. “What’ll you tell Scott?”

“The truth, once I’ve heard back from Sacramento.” Thoughtful, Redding fidgeted with a letter opener. “I know this is difficult, but it might be best not to see Scott just yet. From what he has told me, the situation with his grandfather is… delicate. He is taking steps to ensure that Mr. Garrett has no way of bringing harm to either of you.”

“Harlan is desperate.” Murdoch was only saying what Johnny was thinking. “We’ll wait until Scott’s birthday. We can give it that long.”

What were a few more days compared to the months they had already waited?

~o~0~o~

August 28, 1866

Carefully, Scott settled the books in the small steamer trunk. He looked forward to showing them to Johnny along with all the other odds and ends he had thought they would need at Lancer. He knew his father had more than enough, but he wanted to bring a little of Boston with him.

The wrapped photographs were next.

“Scotty, what are you doing?”

Looking up, he saw Harlan standing in his open doorway. He probably should have closed the door, but he wasn’t hiding his actions this time around.

Closing the trunk, he stood and headed for his bureau. “Packing, sir.” Removing clothing, he stacked it on the bed to sort into piles to determine what fit best in the cases he had available.

“Packing! I believe we had an agreement.”

Stopping with socks in his hands, he faced Harlan. “I have a counter proposal for you.”

Stepping into the room, his grandfather narrowed his eyes. “Counter proposal?”

“Yes, if you leave my family alone, I will remain in contact with you. If you persist, I will depart and you shall never hear from me again. To protect my family, I won’t go to Lancer, but there are many places in this world where a man may go.” That was a bluff, but it would keep Harlan unsettled.

“Do you think I won’t give Murdoch Lancer to the law if you pursue this nonsense?”

Scott didn’t enjoy haggling with his grandfather in the manner of someone brokering a business proposition. “You could try, but since there is a ruling determining that my father acted in self-defense, you won’t get far with it.” He set the socks on the bed and gave his full attention to Harlan. “Did you think that I wouldn’t verify your claim?”

“Scotty-”

“You have consistently kept me from the truth through the years. It pains me that our relationship was built on a foundation of revenge.” Scott watched comprehension dawn in his grandfather’s eyes and knew he had won.

But with any victory there was loss.

~o~0~o~

He had lost.

For all his planning and plotting, Harlan had missed thinking through the consequences if he failed in keeping Murdoch Lancer out of his grandson’s life. He loved his grandson, but had caught Scotty up in his feelings for Catherine. He had spent the bygone years focused on the past when he should have concentrated on the present and what he did have.

“Twenty-one years ago I lost your mother. I do not believe I have ever recovered from her loss.”

“You have spent your life blaming others for that loss, and have done her memory a disservice, sir.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to lose your only child.”

“No, sir, I do not; and I hope I never do. But you made certain that Murdoch Lancer did.”

Ah, his Scotty did well with words. His Scotty? “Have I lost you over this?”

“I’m not sure, sir. You might have just misplaced me for awhile, but that is entirely up to you.”

~o~0~o~

September 1, 1866

Scott toed off his shoes, removed his socks and tie, and tossed it on his night table. Distractedly, he unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons on his shirt before tugging it out of his pants to hang loosely, then wearily collapsed on his bed.

Harlan’s belated self-revelations had caused his grandfather to alternately seclude himself away or make awkward attempts at amends. His birthday was tomorrow, today actually, and Scott’s plans were in place. For all his machinations, in the end it was Harlan Garrett who defeated himself.

Disheartened, Scott groaned and covered his face with his hands.

Thunk.

Thunk, thunk.

Frowning and attempting to place the noise, Scott rose.

Thunk.

The window?

Thunk.

Someone was throwing pebbles at his window? Curious, he opened it to peer down into the small back yard.

“You wanna come on down, Brother?” And there was no mistaking the voice or the relaxed stance that was all Johnny, even if all he could see was the outline of him.

“I’d better before you break something.” Heart pounding, Scott didn’t bother with his shoes as he light-footed out of his room and down the back stairs. The kitchen was quiet as it should be at this time of night, and he slipped carefully out the back door to avoid alerting anyone.

This reunion was for them.

There was just enough light to see his brother’s welcoming smile. Scott closed the distance; his steps silent as he walked over the dew covered grass. Johnny rocked back on his heels and laughed softly.

Scott felt the jagged edges caused from the past week smooth away with his brother’s presence. Disbelieving, Scott reached out to grasp the very real shoulder of his brother; Johnny’s hand immediately came up to close around Scott’s wrist.

“Hey, Johnny, you’ve grown a few inches.”

“Seein’ as how the ol’ man reaches the treetops, and you nearly do, thought it best.” Johnny’s smile grew; his hand tugged Scott’s wrist. “Wouldn’t want to get trampled on.”

Scott grinned. “And where did you leave our father?”

“He didn’t.” Scott started at the low voice. He and Johnny parted as Scott followed his brother’s gaze to see Murdoch step out of the shadows. “I just leave the breaking of windows to your brother.”

Scott wanted to laugh, to cry, and to yell all at once, and didn’t. “You came.”

Murdoch reached out a hand for him to shake, and Scott welcomed the warm, roughness of that hand. “I wasn’t going to miss another birthday.”

“Oh, yeah, Boston. It’s past midnight.” Johnny lightly tapped Scott’s arm. “Happy Birthday.”

Two pairs of eyes gleamed in the dark, and Scott read all the longing and hope in them.

“Happy Birthday, Scott.” Murdoch’s hands settled on his shoulders. “Are you ready to go home?”

Johnny bumped his shoulder with his, and Scott caught the scent of wild grass and sunshine.

“Yes, sir.”

~o~0~o~

Lancer was thousands of miles away, but when his sons’ brilliant smiles turned his way, Murdoch was already home.

~The End~