"What are you doing here all alone, son?" Paul's voice startled Peter.

"Paul, I didn't hear you."

Paul rubbed his hand across his chin and sat down beside Peter with an audible grunt. The look on Peter's face was all too familiar to him. He always looked like that when he either thought about his life at the temple or something was nagging at him.

"You were spaced out. I don't think you would have noticed a herd of elephants in your current state. Are you okay?"

"Y...yes," Peter stated in a tone that meant the opposite.

"Well, son. Do you have an idea how late it is?"

"Huh? Uh, no." Peter looked at his wristwatch. "Wow, how did it get to be so late?"

"Just how long have you been sitting out there?"

"Um, maybe four hours…"

Paul turned to look at Peter, knitting his bushy brows. "Annie asked if you want to join us inside. The girls are in bed."

"Uh, no. I'd rather stay out here a bit longer. I mean, if that's okay."

Paul was very well acquainted with Peter and his nervous energy. Watching him sit motionless at the same spot for hours wasn't a typical behavior for Peter. Normally, the teenager tended to pace like a caged tiger if something was bothering him. So what was bothering Peter so much that he was frozen in place for hours, he wondered.

Paul sighed deeply and placed a supporting hand on Peter's skinny shoulder. "Son, you know, if you want to talk, I will listen."

"Thanks," was all Peter said.

Paul studied Peter more closely. It was obvious that the boy was deeply bothered by something. The shoulder muscles under his hands tensed and he removed his hand.

"Are you angry about missing the party with your friends tonight?" Paul asked abruptly. "Look, son, you may think our punishment might be a bit harsh, but…"

"No, Paul. That's not the reason," Peter interrupted.

"Then what's bothering you for heaven's sake? I can see how upset you are. Listen, it doesn't matter what it is, Peter. I'm your friend, and you can talk with me about anything."

"I…I," Peter stammered before he fell silent again.

Paul didn't try to persuade Peter a second time. He let the minutes pass. If Peter really didn't want to talk, there was no way to force him. Peter would talk when he was ready, not a single second earlier.

"What happened to Kermit, Dad?"

The question caught Paul off guard. Surprised, he tried to catch a glimpse of Peter's expressive eyes, but Peter only stared at his hands. It also didn't escape Paul that Peter had called him 'Dad'. Paul grunted inwardly, his son only did that when he was an emotional mess.

"What do you mean, Peter?" Paul asked guardedly, wondering exactly what Peter meant by his comment.

Peter took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I…I saw Kermit's back today. It was covered with bruises and whip marks. I…I just wondered who would be so cruel to do something like that to another human being."

Paul caught Peter's trembling hands in his own and pressed them reassuringly. "There's a lot of evil in this world," he said with a sigh, for lack of a better explanation.

The kid had already suffered enough. He saw no reason to show him anymore of the type of cruelty men could do to each other. Peter had no idea that Kermit was a mercenary. Hell, he didn't even know that Paul had also been a mercenary before he'd joined the 101st. None of his kids knew much about his former life and he wanted to keep it that way until they were old enough to understand everything. All they knew was that he'd worked for the government. After all, it was partly true. Whenever he had to leave town for a few days for his former work, he and Annie always told the kids he was away for a convention. Annie was the only person who knew everything - and Kermit.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I've seen my share of evil," Peter snorted. "Still, it doesn't explain what happened to Kermit."

Paul sighed deeply, knitting his brows together. "Kermit was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Call it what you want, son. All that matters is that Kermit survived and, in time, his injuries will heal."

Peter pulled his hands out of Paul's light grasp. "I catch your drift. You don't want to tell me what happened. How about telling me something about what Kermit does for a living?" he said a bit louder than necessary.

"Why do you want to know, Peter?"

Peter jumped up and started pacing. Several times he drew a hand through his tousled hair before he turned to Paul with his hands on his hips in defiance.

"Why? You want to know why? I'll tell you why, Paul. Whenever Kermit wears a suit, he's also wearing a gun. You can see the bulge at the small of his back. I just know he's not a cop, so why does he have a gun? You never carry one when you're in the house and you're a cop!

"Besides that, he's always on the alert. I can't count the times I've seen him reach for his gun when he's heard a strange noise. He tries not to show it, but he flinches every time somebody touches him unexpectedly. Even with Kelly! Come on, Paul, even Kelly? That's just not normal!

"And then, there are his morning walks. If you ask me, he's not taking a walk, he's looking for anything suspicious, as if he is constantly on the lookout for a possible attack. He's always so tense and withdrawn, and why doesn't he ever take off his glasses? What's he hiding from?"

Running out of steam, Peter stopped the rapid babble. Paul gaped at his foster son, stunned at the close observations and Peter's precise insight of Kermit. He knew Peter was a bright boy, but he never expected him to have such a talent for observation. He'd clearly underestimated him.

Paul got up and approached Peter. Putting both hands on his bony shoulders, he said, "Look, son, I can't tell you anything more about Kermit, because I respect his need for privacy, just as I respect your needs, too. Just give Kermit a chance to get to know you better, you might be surprised. Do you actually think that he's a threat for our family?"

Peter nodded, seemingly embarrassed that he'd revealed so much of his feelings.

Paul held Peter's gaze. "Son, do you trust me?"

"Y…Yes sir, I…uh…do trust you," he choked out a bit reluctant.

"Then trust me when I tell you that Kermit's no threat to our family. I can understand if you don't feel comfortable around Kermit, but he wasn't always the man he is now. In fact, he's a very loyal and caring man, he just has a very unusual way of showing it. You are too young to understand what happened to make Kermit the way he is now. Maybe, when you are older, I'll tell you more about it."

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad."

Paul smiled. "I know, but you're not an adult either. Peter, you went through a very hard time in your life. So did Kermit. Don't try to carry all the problems of the world on your shoulders. Let the adults take care of things once in a while. I also want you to know that none of this means I don't appreciate your strong sense of protecting your family against harm. In fact, I'm very proud of you for that."

"You're not angry?"

Paul pulled him into an embrace. Peter hesitated a split second before he returned the hug fiercely.

"No, I'm not, son. It took a lot of guts to say what you were thinking, even though you know that Kermit's a very good friend of mine."

Peter stepped back. "Will Kermit be all right?"

Paul's face sobered, a look of despair whisked across his face before he smiled back at his son. "In time, he will, son. In time, he will." He ruffled Peter's hair. "Now, come on in, it's getting chilly out here."

***

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