"Hey!" Peter greeted with a grin, happy to surprise Kermit and Savannah with his good news. "Good news, folks - the pardon has been granted!"

Savannah, at Kermit's bedside as usual, sat up excitedly. She could use some good news. "What does that mean, Peter?"

Peter waved some keys in the air and Kermit caught on instantly. "You're kidding," he said, not wanting to get his hopes up.

"What?!" Savannah demanded, frustrated at being the only one not knowing what was going on.

"He's a free man again," Peter explained. "The charges have been dropped."

"Thank God," Savannah sighed, gripping Kermit's hand.

"What did you tell and whom did you tell it to?" Kermit asked with a bit of an edge to his voice. Savannah looked up abruptly. She had not yet broken the news to Kermit that she had had to tell Peter about the Hilton. She and Kermit had avoided that 'white elephant in the room' until this point.

Nervously, she shifted her gaze to Peter. He knew that she'd agonized before she'd spilled Kermit's past out in public to save his life.

Making an attempt to share her guilt, Peter began, "Kermit, I-"

Savannah held up her hand to stop him. This was her burden and her confession. If there had been any other way, she hadn't been able to find it. *No secrets,* she reminded herself. "Kermit, I'm sorry," she began out loud. "When I started to put things together, I knew this all must have come from your time in the prison camp. I didn't know what else to do....I'm sorry! They were going to hurt you and I needed Peter to help....If there was any other way...." She was babbling and tears were running down her face. She'd failed him. Hadn't been able to keep his secrets. Unable to look him in the eye, she concluded, "I'll understand if you're angry, but please don't be mad at Peter. We just didn't have any choice. I hope you can forgive me...trust me again...."

Kermit put his hand over hers. He knew that could count on the people he trusted, in varying degrees. But he knew that he was holding hands with the only person on the planet he trusted completely. Body and soul. From the looks of things, she'd nearly made herself sick worrying about this moment.

"Scarlett," he interrupted gently, "It's all right. I DO trust you." Looking up at Peter, he added, "Both of you." He squeezed her hand tighter. "That means I trust you to know when not to tell and when TO tell!" Kermit was touched by the relief he read on her face. His trust meant the world to her and it wasn't misplaced.

Peter felt that he should be up front and take his medicine. "Well, I hope you mean that because I had to give Captain Simms a censored version of it, also. She had to know the truth if she was going to help." *Uh oh,* Peter thought. From the look on his face, Kermit had more of a problem with that one.

"And what, pray tell, did our captain do with that information?" His tone held more tension than before.

"Relax," Peter said, coming closer. "That's what the good news is about. She really came through! Simms told them that they threatened to hurt Savannah and Kat if you didn't do what they wanted. She also told them that you volunteered to participate in the sting operation to find out who was running their little show. They bought it. Oh, the lawyers will probably wrangle with it for a few years but meanwhile, you're free and cleared of all charges. She figured, I guess, that threatening was easier to believe than brainwashing - truth IS stranger than fiction!"

Kermit nodded thankfully. He still wasn't happy that so many people knew the pain and humiliation he had been forced to endure - Peter, Simms, Caine - but he counted himself lucky that they were all people that he could trust.

Savannah, for her part, got up without a word and gave Peter a bear hug that pretty much forced all the breath out of him.

Kermit grinned. "Can I have one of those?"

"Not till you're better," Savannah told him. She softened her refusal with a kiss.

"Well, then, can I have those damn keys?!"

"Why?" Peter asked, mischief in his eye. "You and I both know you could have gotten out of that handcuff any time you wanted to."

"Where would I have gone?" Kermit countered. "Besides, I thought being good might help my case...."

"It probably did," Peter said, still grinning.

"So give me the keys."

"Do it yourself." At Kermit's annoyed look, Peter elaborated. "C'mon, I bet Savannah doesn't know half of what you can do."

"I bet I know more than you think," Savannah countered, winking, actually causing Kermit to blush slightly at the implied innuendo.

"Give me the keys."

Peter opened his fingers and the keys fell to the floor. "Oops...was that the bedpan they fell into?"

"Liar."

Savannah giggled. "Will this do?" she asked, taking a bobby pin out of her hair. She was more than happy to contribute. It would be a kick to actually see Kermit in action...so to speak.

Kermit sighed, taking the bobby pin and shaking his head. "You two...." He bit the plastic off the bobby pin, rebent it and went to work on the lock. Moments later, the handcuff imprisoning his wrist sprang open and he threw the bobby pin at Peter, who ducked, laughing.

"What about the handcuff attached to the bedframe?" Peter asked, smirking.

"If the hospital wants it off," Kermit retorted, "they can wash the bedpan!"

"Just do me a favor, all right?" Savannah asked, laughing. "Please do NOT teach that to Kat until she's at least 18!" She kissed Kermit happily, her eyes sparkling. "I'm going to tell Mary Margaret! I'll be right back!"

She left the room. Kermit again shook his head. "I don't know where she gets the energy....Ummm...Peter...?"

Peter frowned. It was not often that Kermit was hesitant about something. "Yeah?"

"Thanks. I know you went to bat for me. I owe you. Big."

Peter shook his head, embarrassed. "No problem."

Kermit shifted his position on the bed. "So, I hear you were the one to hit me with the hammer, huh?"

Peter glanced sharply at Kermit but he just had a curious expression as he waited for an answer. "Yeah," Peter said sheepishly. "I was aiming for your gun...."

"Yeah, right," Kermit interjected with a small smile. "Felt good, didn't it?"

"What?"

"Clobbering me with the hammer."

"What?! Of COURSE I didn't like doing that! I had to stop you some way and figured it was better than getting shot! And I certainly didn't expect you to fall-!" Peter broke off his explanation, wondering what exactly Kermit was getting at.

"You found no satisfaction in that even after all those things I said to you?" Kermit's question shocked Peter into silence. "C'mon, don't kid me and don't kid yourself. The hammer went exactly where you wanted it to go."

"Kermit-"

"Felt good getting back at me, didn't it?" Kermit asked with a sardonic grin.

Peter shook his head but he realized that he did throw the hammer a lot harder than he intended. Was that on purpose because he was still mad at Kermit? "So..." Peter said hesitantly, "what if I did?"

Kermit relaxed back against the pillow. "Then I'm glad you got me back. I certainly had it coming. Of course, I'm not advocating the use of this method EVERY time...."

Peter was beginning to think that he would NEVER understand this complicated mystery man. "You're not mad?"

"Mad?" Kermit looked up at him. "If somebody had spouted bilge like that to me, I would've made them a part of the wall! I'm lucky I got off so easy!" He winked at Peter. "You shouldn't be so nice, kid." As Peter stood there in shock, Kermit gingerly touched his aching head. "Injury notwithstanding, Peter," he said succinctly, "I am VERY sorry I said those things."

Peter, looking into Kermit's eyes and seeing only sincere remorse and regret, felt the rest of his anger melt away. He nodded to accept the apology. He didn't know what else to say.

"I don't know where all that came from," Kermit said. "No...that's a lie. I do know. Jealousy. Envy. The green-eyed monster." At Peter's questioning look, he explained. "You've had two perfect fathers who think you're the greatest thing since sliced bread. The time I had with Paul...didn't seem like nearly enough."

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Peter asked curiously before he could stop himself. He waited for the inevitable answer of 'you can ask'.

Instead, Kermit just chuckled. "Sure. You caught me on a good day. I might even answer!"

"What was so wrong about your father?"

Kermit took a deep breath as if the answer took a physical toll on him. "It wasn't so much what he did do. It's what he didn't do. Don't get me wrong; he didn't beat us, starve us or offer us as sacrifices to wolves. He was just...never there. Even when he was, you could tell his mind was on something else. Always forgot how old we were, what grade we were in, friends we had, that kind of thing."

Peter closed his eyes momentarily in sympathy, actually feeling Kermit's resulting loneliness as if it was a tangible force. His fathers - both of them - had been so intermeshed and so involved with his life, what Kermit was describing was foreign to him.

Kermit, meanwhile, picked up the picture of Kat that his wife had left beside his bed. "When I found out that I was going to be a father, I decided I'd do just the opposite." He huffed a small laugh and smiled at the image of his daughter. "They'll probably need to have me surgically removed from her hand on her wedding day! Now Paul..." Kermit said, his tone brightening, "would you believe he knew every single, solitary thing I was up to every single second?!"

Peter grabbed the straight-back chair and turned it backwards so he could straddle it as he groaned in remembrance. "TELL me about it!"

"Every mistake I made, he knew somehow," Kermit went on. "He wouldn't mention it for weeks until I did the same dumb thing and then he'd say-"

"'-I thought you'd learned that the last time!'" Peter completed with a wry laugh.

Both men were laughing, talking and continuing to reminiscence as Savannah stood in the doorway silently, watching and listening. As she had done almost every day this week, gentle tears were forming. But there was one difference. These were tears of joy.

She brushed away those tears and pushed open the door. "Okay, ya'll. If we're having a 'moment', I want in on it." She strolled over to Kermit and gave him a polite kiss, suitable for public view.

Peter spoke up. "Where's the tadpole today, anyway?"

She smiled. Evidently, Uncle Peter was growing more attached by the day. "I think Mary Margaret has plans to sue for custody."

"Well, I've got work to do. Check on you tomorrow, buddy." Peter left them alone and went to do what he'd spent every waking moment doing for the past week. Looking for Truong Qui and Do Vien.

"Any more company today?"

Kermit knew what she meant. She'd spent a great deal of time worrying if he was safe here in the hospital. Those men who had risen from his past were still there. She knew it and he did, too. He chose to pretend he didn't understand. "Just Wolf Gannett. He gave me a headache. Seems he's a little upset that I shot him."

Savannah smiled. "Weeellll, I guess that IS cause...."

"Trust my subconscious to know the right person to shoot," he grinned. "I don't know what he's complaining about. He gets 'round the clock attention and fans camping at his bedside for a little nick in the leg. I've had bigger paper cuts!" Changing the topic, he added, "Peter told me what you did to Mr. Gannett at the gala."

She flushed bright red. "Not very ladylike, huh?"

Kermit laughed out loud at her embarrassment. "The perfect tactic for the situation. I'd be glad to hold him for you if you'd care to do it again."

"Didn't need you to hold him the first time, did I?"

They sat there for a moment. Savannah holding his hand and Kermit studying her. She looked tired. Between being here with him and rushing home to be with Kat, he knew she wasn't getting much sleep. And there was that unspoken, unresolved problem still hanging in the air. Truong Qui was still out there. He wasn't sure how she could stand it. Why she would stand it. Over the months, the fact that they loved each other desperately became an accepted fact. But loving someone and surviving trauma after trauma was another matter.

"I can't figure out why you want to live this life, Scarlett. I know you love me," he reached out to touch her face, "but I don't know why you would want to stay."

She knew he'd never feel that he deserved it. No matter how much she tried to explain it. "Kermit, I love you because you're a kind, gentle, strong, wonderful man." Savannah leaned into his hand. "If I were sick or hurt or in trouble, you wouldn't leave me, would you? Why do you presume that you love me more than I love you?"

He couldn't answer. That question had never occurred to him. Loving her was the most power feeling he'd ever had. The time without her nearly killed him. It was the same for her. Worth any cost.

Savannah watched the thoughts fly across his face. "You can't scare me off, can't shake me off, can't pry me off with a crowbar. You're stuck, Kermit Griffin. For better or worse, remember?"

"Had plenty of worse here lately."

"Had plenty of better, too."

As if fate could not leave their moment alone, the phone rang. Kermit reached for it and heard the sound he had been expecting. The ticking. This time, there was no plunging into despair. No submergence into chaos. Only the burning desire for revenge. As he listened, he noticed his wife's face go white.

"Is it?"

Returning the phone to its base, he answered, "Yes. He's still here." Moving to get up, he said, "I've got to go."

She leaped into action. "Are you CRAZY! Go where?!" She put both hands on him, briefly holding onto the fantasy that she could hold him there in bed. The struggle she expected didn't materialize.

Kermit stopped resisting and leaned back in the bed. "Scarlett," he began, quietly attempting to explain his position, "they're still there. Waiting for me. If I don't go, this will never end. I have to finish this on my terms." He waited to let her think it over. "Please try to understand."

"These people will kill you! They tried twice. Can't you just be satisfied to be alive?!" Savannah held onto him with a frantic grasp.

Stating his case as eloquently as he could, he answered, "It won't be my life to live if I can't take it back."

She flung herself away from him, sending her chair clattering to the floor. After striding to the door with the resolve of a Marine, she stopped. Standing still, facing the door. Frozen.

Kermit didn't need to see her face to know what she was doing. He could see her, in his mind. Biting her lip. Brow knitted together and eyes brimming with tears of indecision. She must know that he'd never try to go through her to get out. Maybe she was planning to run after Peter Caine. Get someone else to hold him there.

Gradually, her shoulders relaxed. Instead of shouting through the door for back-up, she turned to the closet, pulled out his clothes and returned to his side. She didn't speak. Just helped him to stand and dress. Then she offered, "I'm afraid you'll have to take my car. Here are the keys." Savannah dropped them into his hand. "Peter locked your gun in the trunk the other night."

Throwing her arms around him, she pulled him close and squeezed. Memorizing the feeling. Whispering in his ear, she said, "You've never broken a promise to me. Swear you'll come back alive. Swear, and I'll believe it."

"I swear."

He let go and she preceded him through the door. The conspicuous undercover guard Peter had placed in the lobby across from Kermit's room was still there, undoubtedly there now to make sure the recalcitrant patient stayed in bed. When he looked down at his paper, Savannah motioned Kermit out. He slipped down the hall. Leaving to take his life back.

*****

Do Vien was a traitorous coward but he was no idiot. After the attempt on his life at the gala, he had gone into hiding. Awaiting the appropriate time to exit the country and disappear. He had underestimated Truong Qui. Thought he had purchased his freedom years ago. Now that he had more to offer his former enemy, the debt had been reinstated. No offer of information lay at his disposal. The price was his life. Truong Qui would have his life and fortune.

In a futile effort to avoid detection, Do Vien had fled his plush hotel suite, taking only two of his men with him. The remaining limited forces of his organization would provide a diversion and join him at some foreign destination to regroup. Rebuild. The plan was to take a nondescript rental car instead of the customary limousine to the airport, board a plane, and fade into oblivion. Do Vien, his money, and a nice warm beach somewhere.

Being a traitor himself, Do Vien should have smelled one in his own camp. He didn't. Truong Qui knew his every move and reeled him in like a child.

Now, here he sat. Tied to a chair. Cowering in the face of destiny. Truong Qui circled his prisoner and gloated, "I am providing your former comrade the ultimate act of revenge, my friend. The chance to dispose of a traitor."

Truong Qui had made the call personally. Beckoning his assassin to return to his profession. Complete his mission. All those years ago, he had nearly burst with pride at his skill as a puppet-master. Dragging the will from such a vital young man and twisting him into a cold-blooded killer.

Kermit Griffin wasn't the first or the last victim. But he was clearly the best. He'd soaked up the skills like a sponge. Annihilated their mutual enemies with pleasure. After this last mission here in the United States, Truong Qui would have the use of Griffin's skills again. For all time.

"General," asked his assistant, "should we not dispose of this man and leave? Why take the risk of delay?"

The one thing that infuriated the general was dissension. "DO NOT PRESUME TO QUESTION MY INSTRUCTIONS!" he screamed into the young man's face, grasping his throat. "I will play this game to its conclusion. Do you understand?"

The young man, eyes wide with terror, sickly nodded and awaited his release. He had seen the results of his employer's anger and would avoid those consequences at all cost.

As if on cue, Kermit Griffin entered from the darkness at the edge of the warehouse. Rage concealed by dark glasses. He walked calmly and coolly to join the gathering. The Desert Eagle rested comfortably in his hand. Tucked in the back of his waistband, he carried a .38 caliber revolver he'd bought for Savannah to carry in her glove compartment. Stiff and expressionless, he took his place among his enemies.

"Excellent, my friend. Punctual as usual." Truong Qui eyed the ex-mercenary with pride. His own creation. "Complete your mission."

Kermit raised his weapon and held it in Do Vien's dripping face. Here was the man who had set his feet upon this path. Betrayed him. Betrayed Paul. He had tried to kill them all. How many people had he sacrificed to fill his bank account? He could read the recognition in Do Vien's quivering eyes. He remembered Kermit and what he had done to him. He knew that no mercy would be forthcoming. This suffering Kermit could live with. Seeing and hearing this vermin beg for his miserable life. Pleading with him to forgive and spare his reeking hide.

TICK! TICK! TICK!....

Truong Qui flipped on the metronome to spur his assassin into action. "KILL HIM!" Truong Qui shouted.

The fury flooded up from Kermit's stomach into his chest. Controlled now. Focused. This bastard had broken him as a young man. Played his mind like an instrument. Forced him to kill and kill until feeling had almost evaded him for a lifetime. Truong Qui had not tortured scores of men not only for personal gain. It had been for pleasure. This would be for pleasure also.

Kermit snapped his arm around to Truong Qui and fired. Leaving a gaping, bloody wound where his chest used to be. Truong Qui flew into the wall and into Hell. Only a look of surprise remaining on his face.

Reaching with the other hand, Kermit pulled the revolver and fired at the man by the door. Now moving and firing simultaneously, he dodged bullets and took out two more. Do Vien sat, still imprisoned in his chair. Shaking and screaming for release. Kermit rolled behind a crate for cover.

Four men exploded into the warehouse. Firing and shouting. Kermit assumed that they were Do Vien's men. The air was filled with voices and gunfire. He stopped firing. The two rival factions had shifted their attention from Kermit to each other.

In the hail of gunfire, Kermit looked into the face of justice. Do Vien sat slumped in his chair. Blood draining from a gunshot would to his head. He'd led countless others to an end such as his. Now, he could join them.

The satisfaction nearly overwhelmed Kermit. He'd beaten Truong Qui. Had refused to fulfill his mission. Killed the man who'd haunted his dreams since he was twenty-two. On top of that, Do Vien was dead also. The men who'd launched him into a life of violence lay blown apart and vanquished. Freedom had been won. On his terms. His life belonged to him.

Under cover of the battle raging before him, Kermit slipped out of the warehouse. Leaving them to kill each other. Going home. Just as he'd promised. Leaving this life behind for good.

*****

Rushing into Kermit's home without knocking was becoming a habit for Peter Caine. "Kermit!" he shouted.

"He's not here, Peter," answered Savannah from the living room. "And please don't yell. Kat's takin' a nap." Calmly, she directed him to a chair.

Peter's face was red with anger. "Did you know he checked himself - correction...LEFT the hospital!?" It was easy to read the rest on his face. He knew what was happening. "Mind if I ask where he is?"

Offering an answer that would only frustrate him more, she answered, "You can ask."

"Don't do this to me! Where is he?"

"He's on an errand." Truth. The best diversion.

"If he's gone after them, you've got to tell me where." The desperation on his face was heartbreaking. Helping Kermit was second nature to him. "Savannah, he can't do this alone. You have to tell me."

Disguising her gut-wrenching fear, she quietly explained. "Peter, he's on a *personal* errand. But, if he were going after those men, which is purely hypothetical, it would be a battle he'd have to finish alone. Alone, or it would never be finished."

Peter's anger grew at her avoidance. Feeling helpless was intolerable. "How can you let him do this and not let me help?!"

"How could you deny him a chance to unchain those vultures from around his neck!" She stood up to make her point. "If that was what he had to do, we should let him do it. No matter how much it hurts." And it hurt a great deal at this very moment. Hurt both of them. Two people who loved this man. His family.

In the midst of the tension, the object of the debate strolled casually in through the back door, carrying a bag of groceries. Kermit addressed their open mouths with a typical grin. Savannah left Peter standing alone and ran to him. She planted herself on him in a kiss that expressed all her emotions.

When he could breathe again, Kermit replied, "Well, Scarlett. Count on me for all your errands from now on if I can get a greeting like that."

Peter wouldn't be as easily appeased. "Where in the hell have you been?!"

"Where does it look like I've been?"

"I think you went looking for Truong Qui alone, you ASSHOLE!"

"Oh. Him." Kermit sat down the bag and walked over to his friend. "Heard something on the scanner that might interest you. Seems Do Vien's guys and Truong Qui's guys tangled this afternoon. All the principle players met the Grim Reaper. Must have been quite a show."

"I imagine so." Peter didn't dare ask. He didn't want to know. "You through with your 'errands' for good?"

"Oh, yeah. For good." Kermit kissed Savannah lovingly and leisurely and then strolled into the nursery.

"Kermit-"

Savannah sighed when she heard a sleepy giggle and Kermit's answering "Hey, sweet thing. Why are you sleeping on such a beautiful afternoon? Did you miss me? Daddy sure missed you...."

*Was the nightmare truly over?* Savannah thought, watching her family. She hoped so.

THE END

Next Story: Matchmaking in Malibu

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