Standing in the semi-dark living room of his apartment Peter Caine stared out of the window. Lost in thought his gaze followed the snow flakes that were falling out of the grey cloudy sky, dancing through the frosty air and finally landing on the cold ground, covering the city with a thick, white layer.

For the citizens of Sloanville it only was the morning of another winter day. For Peter it was day five after his foster father had left. Since that day no one had heard anything. No call. No letter. Not a single word if he was alright.

"When the phantoms stop chasing me, I will be back." Peter repeated Paul’s last words over and over in his head, not being able to stop.

The last days with Paul around had been some kind of a living nightmare. His own foster father had yelled at him in the squad room with everyone standing around, he had knocked him over in his foster home and then finally he had to arrest the man he used to call "father" telling him his rights. When he thought about that a wave of numb pain shot through his whole body leaving him breathless and unable to move.

Only moments later the tears came back; the tears that had fallen when he had embraced Paul for one last time on the roof-deck of Kwai Chang Caine's apartment. Then he had been gone. Gone forever?

"I will be back", he had told him teary-eyed.

The young man sighed.

He had lost a father before and all the memories had come back during the last days; memories of the tragic events almost seventeen years ago; memories of the night his father's temple had been destroyed leaving him as an orphan at the tender age of twelve. That night he had not been able to say "Goodbye".

He had sworn revenge standing besides his father's grave. He had been brought to an orphanage where no one had been able to understand what he was yearning for, where everyone had been uncaring and cold; where he had wasted three years of his life.

Then one day a tall, grey-haired man had entered the gym where he had been playing basketball with some kids, asking him if he was interested in police work.

That moment had changed his life forever. Only a few weeks later he had moved to the house of the Blaisdell family and that tall, grey-haired man had become his foster father; his foster father and his friend. He had given him a new meaning in life; the meaning to become a cop and being part of a family again.

Now this man had also left him.

A soft sobbing filled the silence of the room.

Why? What had he done wrong?

Peter wiped away the tears from his face. He did not know how much longer he would be able to bear this, bear this burden of being left alone over and over again. Of course he was not a child anymore. He was a grown man, but it still hurt no matter if he was twelve or twenty-nine years old.

Why were adults always supposed to be strong and pull themselves together?

Why was everyone thinking a grown man did not need a father?

Peter clenched his fists. The anger inside him was becoming stronger; stronger than the grief he had felt just seconds before.

His whole body was trembling.

Why was no one asking how he felt about it? How he felt when he was left behind once again; left behind by people he was caring about; people he loved from the bottom of his heart?

He knew it sounded like self-pity but it was what he was feeling right now.

A knock on the door brought him back to reality.

"Peter?" a familiar voice was asking from the hallway.

When he heard this voice he swallowed hard and in an instant he felt even more miserable, because once again he had only thought about himself, Peter Caine, totally forgetting about the other people Paul had left behind just five days ago.

"Peter? Are you there, honey?" He noticed the worried tone.

"Yes, Mom." he answered croakily, then cleared his throat. "I’m coming. Just a second."

While he was making the last steps towards the door, he began to realize why he had to be strong. Who needed him the most now.

When he opened the door and looked into the face of his foster Mom, the only mother he had ever known, his features seemed to brighten up.

Yes, Paul was gone but there still were some people in his life that needed him, needed him to help; needed him to be there.

Peter embraced Annie’s slender frame. "Hi Mom, good to see you."

"Good to see you, my son."

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and let her into his apartment knowing that he did not have to face these difficult times alone and within that moment the healing had begun.

The End

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