Finding Home - 7/7 - The End
See part 0 for warnings and author's notes (and translations of foreign words/phrases)
Part 0 = Here
Part 1 = Here
Part 2 = Here
Part 3 = Here
Part 4 = Here
Part 5 = Here
Part 6 = Here
Thanks for sticking with me to the end. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Now, on to the conclusion of our story.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The family you come from isn't as important as the family you're going to have. - Ring Lardner
Aaron watched Patrick sleep. The older man lay carefully propped to keep pressure off his injured back while not putting additional stress on his cracked ribs and relocated shoulder and left ankle. He’d been damned lucky. The injuries, while painful, were relatively minor compared to what the unsub could inflict. In addition to the vicious cane strikes that Aaron had witnessed, Jane Radel had apparently used a thick metal rod to beat the bound and drugged Patrick as well. According to the emergency room doctor, had her blows been two inches over, she could have broken Patrick’s back like she had Paul’s.
The thing that haunted Aaron the most as he studied his sleeping Sir, however, was the knowledge that the attacks on Paul and Patrick were both his fault.
His panic attack at the Leaf had led to Jane Radel’s fixation on the two dominants. In her troubled mind, she had been working to protect *him*, to avenge wrongs done to him by ‘unscrupulous dominants’. Logically, he knew the attacks weren’t his fault, but emotionally… it was difficult *not* to see himself as the catalyst for both men being hurt. It was something he was going to have to come to terms with, and soon, before it ‘impacted his ability to function in a healthy emotional and psychological manner’. He sighed, brought out his PDA and made a note to contact Dr. Sayers for an appointment and possibly put in a call to George Huang just for good measure. He wasn’t going to let another unsub control him and interfere with his relationship with Patrick. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, and Jane Radel wasn’t worth losing the peace he’d found with his Sir.
He put away his PDA and reached out to take Patrick’s hand. Aaron gently ran his fingers over the edge of the white dressing covering the abrasions caused by Patrick’s struggles against the hemp she’d bound him with. He absently cataloged the differences between the cool, rough dressing and the warmth of Patrick’s skin, warmth that reminded him Patrick was still alive. He suppressed a shudder at the thought, memories of Haley’s cold skin haunting him.
“Such a troubled look in one so young,” a soft, heavily accented, feminine voice said from the doorway.
Aaron turned, eyes narrowed and hand dropping quickly from where it had been stroking Patrick’s skin (not from shame, but for ease of access to his back-up piece if needed). He relaxed as he took in the small, dusky-skinned woman watching them both with a sad, gentle smile. He’d seen her picture before, in Patrick’s apartment. This was Dipti Zakaria; Rooshad Zakaria’s mother and the closest thing to a mother Patrick would claim. Her long, dark blue, heavily embroidered dress skimmed over her slender, barely five foot frame, and was belted with a bright, multi-hued scarf. Her steel gray hair was pulled back into a thick braid that fell past her shoulders, but rather than being severe, it seemed to simply add to her quiet charm. Her lined face was testament to her years, but her step was sure and her brown eyes sparkled with vitality. She returned Aaron’s gaze easily, standing silently in the doorway until Aaron relaxed back in the chair. “Mrs. Zakaria?” he asked, just to be certain.
She nodded, her smile brightening. “Call me Dipti,” she urged. “And you are our Patrick’s Aaron.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered even as he rose from the chair to offer it to her.
“Sit, child,” the tiny woman scolded kindly. “It is right that your face be the first thing he sees when he awakes.”
Aaron could feel his cheeks heat at the words.
Dipti’s light laughter danced around the quiet room. She moved to Aaron’s side, her eyes studying the still figure on the bed. Her smile faltered a bit as she took in the bandages and bruises. She reached out a surprisingly steady hand and caressed Patrick’s bearded cheek. “[Sweet boy,]” she whispered in her native tongue, “[what have you done to yourself this time?]”
Aaron didn’t understand the whispered words, but their concern was clear. “He’s going to be fine,” he reassured, both for her and for himself.
“Thank you,” the woman answered eyes still on Patrick. “And you, Aaron, how are you fairing?”
The question stunned him. He’d not been the one attacked, the one beaten. “I… I’m fine, Ma’am.”
She turned to study him. After several long, uncomfortable minutes, she reached out and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned forward and pressed a soft, motherly kiss to his forehead. “[So like Ruui,]” she breathed, her kind exasperation clear in the melodic words. “Patrick is not the only one hurt by this,” she explained. “What affects him, affects you. That is the way of the heart.” She brushed her fingers through his hair. “So I ask again, Aaron. How are you fairing?”
He closed his eyes, chuckling wryly as he got his first taste of why Patrick referred to her as ‘Hurricane Dipti’. “I’m… managing,” he admitted. “Knowing he’s going to be okay helps.”
She patted the side of his face. “He’s always been a fighter, especially when he has something he loves to fight for.”
Aaron’s hand unconsciously came up to rest over the mark Patrick had left on his skin (had it really only been two nights ago?).
Dipti smiled at the gesture. “It is easier with the reassurance, yes? So much more… calming than a ring that can be removed or a piece of paper that can be burned.” Aaron looked at her in confusion. “The mark,” she said with an understanding smile. “Patrick would mark Ruui that way as well. He claimed it was a way to keep himself close to Ruui’s heart when he couldn’t be there himself. Ruui carried his mark to his final rest.” She met Aaron’s eyes. “It is good that Patrick has found another he wishes to mark in such a way. He has been alone too long.”
The unexpected mark made so much more sense now. It was Patrick’s way of making sure a part of him stayed with Aaron as they headed into the dangerous sting. But did it also mean the depth of commitment that Dipti seemed to think it did?
“Sunni and Griffin will be so pleased,” Dipti continued, unaware of the effect of her words on Aaron. “Of all the family, they have been the most concerned for Patrick. Sunni because she is the ‘older sister’ and Griffin because he is so close to his uncle.” She grinned at Aaron. “But Pravin and I shall hold off the Zakaria tribe until both of you are well rested,” she promised.
Aaron blinked. “Please. I’m sure they’ll all want to see him. I wouldn’t want to…”
“Aaron,” she interrupted gently. “I have, aside from Patrick, a daughter and son-in-law, four grandchildren and their spouses, five great-grandchildren who range in age from twenty-two to five, and one great, great granddaughter who was born last week. They are boisterous and overwhelming at the best of times. Now, as they will all wish to check on Patrick’s health and, more importantly, meet the newest additions to the family, they will be twice as overwhelming. I would not do that to you, Aaron. You will have enough to worry about keeping that one from overdoing,” she said with a knowing smile. “Though, I will admit I am looking forward to meeting my newest grandson. Patrick says that your Jack is nearly the same age as Nicholas’ twins.”
At Aaron’s stunned silence, Dipti paused, looking from Aaron’s surprised face to Patrick’s still form. “Oh.” She took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Aaron,” she said ruefully, “I fear I have misspoken. I had assumed when Patrick came to ask our blessing that he would talk with you soon after.”
“Your blessing?” Aaron asked, clearly confused.
Dipti smiled, shaking her head. “The foolish boy feared we would turn our backs on him if he found love after Ruui.” She reached out and squeezed Patrick’s arm. “He did not seem to realize what Pravin meant when he claimed Patrick as his son. Why would a family turn their back on a son simply for finding love again?” She turned and looked at Aaron. “Please try and act surprised when he finally speaks to you about this?”
Stunned, Aaron could only nod. There would be no need to act.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Hotchner,” Aaron answered, juggling his cell and his son.
“Good news,” Rossi declared, not bothering with formalities. “Jane Radel finally confessed to everything and then some. Between that and the blood evidence on the various BDSM implements found at the scene, she and Gregor are going away for a very long time.”
Aaron paused in buckling Jack into his car seat. After three weeks of interviews, evidence gathering, DNA testing, psychological evaluations and legal jockeying, this damned case was finally coming to a close. Aaron couldn’t help the sigh of relief at the thought. Now maybe they could all get on with their lives. Then the rest of Rossi’s statement sank in. “Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing, “And then some?” he asked in confusion.
“Yeah. Apparently Gregor *was* her third victim. The first guy she accidentally overdosed when she drugged him but since he had known heart problems and it looked like a heart attack, it was ruled natural causes.” Rossi chuckled mirthlessly. “Apparently, since he was known for being a bit of an ass who didn’t look after himself, no one looked too closely at his death.”
Aaron nodded, shifting back to finish settling Jack in, only to find that the little boy already had the straps in place and secured. He smiled at his son, ruffling his soft hair.
“Since nothing happened after three months, she took it as a sign,” Rossi continued. “Remember the Horner family? Well, she blamed Luther Horner for his wife’s death and decided she’d been chosen to ‘make him pay’ for it.” He paused. “We’re searching the area she says she dumped the body. We found the RV, but no body.”
“How did she manage to move them?” Aaron asked after closing the door to the car. “She’s not a big woman.”
“She used a lift,” Rossi answered. “She used to do home health care and had a mobile lift that was small enough to store in the back of her car. She’d bring it out, put it together, wrap the straps around the unconscious victim and hook them to the lift. The lift did the work, she just had to roll them into the room and lower them into the restraints so she and Gregor could do what they wanted.”
“God,” Aaron breathed, stunned by the brutal efficiency of the pair. “Are they going to try and plead diminished capacity?”
“No,” Dave assured. “Though she may not have a choice. Listening to her, I don’t know if they can honestly say she fits the legal definition of ‘sane’.” He sighed. “She honestly thought she was doing the right thing, Aaron. Gregor was in it for the money and the chance to brutalize others. She felt she was saving people.”
Aaron settled into the driver’s seat. “As long as she’s off the streets, that’s what matters.”
“That’s going to happen, it’s just a matter of where she ends up serving the time.” There was a long pause as Aaron started the car. “So? Off to rescue Patrick?”
“Yeah,” Aaron answered with a smile. “They’re letting him out today and Dipti asked Jack and I to go pick him up. He’ll be staying with us for the next week or two and then, if he’s doing well, they’ll clear him to return to work and he’ll head back to his apartment.”
“Ah. Keeping him away from temptation?” Rossi teased.
“Yes. Both Pravin and Mis,” he stopped, remembering the very alert little ears in the back seat. “and Patrick’s boss suggested it. He is apparently known for not taking his ordered down time.”
“Oh yeah!” Rossi agreed whole-heartedly. “He’s almost as bad as his sub where that’s concerned.”
Aaron could feel his cheeks heat at the gentle rebuke. “Pot meet kettle,” he shot back. Dave’s laughter was soothing, even over the phone line. “Okay. We need to get moving.”
“Sure thing. You need anything?”
Aaron thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. Dipti and Sunni were going to bring over food later and I’ve got everything else well stocked.”
“Okay. If you need anything, call me. Oh, and tell Spencer, who should be with your Sir, that he needs to be at my place by 6pm.”
“I’ll call if I think of anything,” he promised. “and is there something I should know about you and Spencer?” Rossi’s silence told him more than he really wanted to know about his subordinates. He sighed. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with the job or your interactions at work,” he said firmly, “and you’re careful around Strauss, we’re good. Hurt him, and I’ll let Garcia loose on you.”
“Fair enough,” Rossi acquiesced. “But I think I’d be more worried about Derek and Emily. They carry guns and can actually hit the broad side of a barn.”
“You’ve never seen Garcia angry, have you?” Aaron countered. “She’s the one you should be scared of. Trust me.” Aaron smiled as Rossi chuckled. “Anyway. We really do need to get moving. Talk to you once we’re settled.” They said their goodbyes, including a shouted ‘bye Uncle Dave’ from the back seat, and Aaron hung up the phone. “Ready to go, buddy?” He asked, looking back at his son.
“Yep.”
Aaron smiled and put the car in gear, heading out to the hospital and Patrick.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The love we give away is the only love we keep - Elbert Hubbard
“Irish! Get a move on!” Paul called from the foyer. “We’ll both be in deep sh,” he quickly changed the word as Jessica walked out of the back bedroom with Jack trailing after her. “trouble, if we don’t get moving.”
Jack giggled. “Paul almost said a bad word, daddy,” the little boy called out. “Does he have to put money in the jar?”
“No.” Aaron said from behind his sister-in-law. “Because he stopped before he finished it.”
Paul chuckled. “Thanks man,” he said with a grin. “I still haven’t gotten the hang of getting to my change in this thing.” He patted the side of his new motorized wheelchair. “I know Micah put it in a pouch on here somewhere, but I never can remember where!”
“Job security,” Jessica said deadpan, even as she leaned down to press a kiss to Paul’s cheek. “Tell Micah I’ll pick him up at 8am on Monday. We’ll need to be at the shop by 8:30 but it’s close to you two.”
Paul nodded. “Will do, and thanks again for offering. That van is going to be a godsend now.”
“No problem.” She ruffled Jack’s hair. “Okay, kiddo. Grab your bag and let’s get moving. Uncle Sean is waiting very impatiently downstairs and Nick and Dana are meeting us at the zoo.” The little boy let out a cheerful whoop and rushed off to his bedroom.
“Jack!” Aaron called out sharply. “No running in the house!” The sound of little footsteps slowed and the three adults shared knowing grins. “Thank you and Sean for taking him this weekend.”
“No problem,” she reassured him. “You know we love having him, and Annie and Greg are just sweethearts. Besides, with Nick and Dana there, we’ll outnumber them four to three. The adults just *might* have a chance at wearing them out before they wear *us* out.”
Aaron shook his head in amusement. He was pleased that she and Patrick’s nephew and his family had hit it off so well. The twins, Annie and Greg, were a year younger than Jack and the three had become nearly inseparable since they’d met in the hospital while visiting ‘Uncle Patrick’. In the month since Patrick’s release from the hospital, the families had grown closer. Dipti had been right, the whole Zakaria ‘tribe’ were a bit overwhelming at first, but in a good way. They had accepted Aaron and Jack easily, welcoming them with smiles and embarrassing stories about each other over large and boisterous meals. Dipti had also adopted most of the BAU team, claiming they all became family when they kept her sons (and hadn’t that caused Aaron’s heart to flip, sons - plural) safe. It was not uncommon to come back from a bad case and be greeted by an invitation to a home-cooked meal once they were rested, or to find pastries waiting for them as they got back to the offices. Dipti claimed it was a way to keep her busy now that all her children were gone. Patrick said it was just how Dipti was.
Quick footsteps were the only warning Aaron got before a little torpedo barreled into his leg, arms wrapping tight.
“Bye, Daddy!” the little boy sing-songed. “Hug Uncle Patrick for me and tell Uncle Spencer that he needs to be good or I won’t share my new science book with him.” The little whirlwind released him and grabbed Jess’ hand, tugging her towards the door. “Come *on* Aunt Jess.”
Paul quickly shifted out of the way as Jess and Jack headed out the door, both waiving their goodbyes. The door closed behind them and Aaron chuckled. “I think I just came in second to a zoo.”
“Nope. To a zoo and two kids his own age, that’s not quite as bad,” Paul said with a grin. “Now. Come on. We need to get downstairs before your Sir sends up Lady Bella. And trust me, that is *not* a lady you want to piss off.”
Aaron chuckled, laying a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “My friend, you have no idea.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He wasn’t sure just what he expected as he entered the small side room his Sir had reserved for them, but it wasn’t this. Sir stood in the middle of a ring of people. Some he knew, others he didn’t. Mistress stood beside Sir, a champagne flute in one hand, Her girl’s leash in the other. Master Walt was deep in conversation with Sir, Ms. Vixen at His side while Fox and a handsome man that he assumed was the elusive Alexi knelt at their feet. Paul, Micah and Master Payton sat in one corner talking with two young men he didn’t know, but who looked vaguely familiar. Master David, Lady Bella and Master David’s boy rounded out the gathering, but didn’t bring him any closer to understanding why they were all there.
He felt incredibly exposed as he paused at the doorway, uncertain what Sir was expecting from him. He’d dressed in the clothing Sir had left for him in the changing room. The supple leather pants clung to his legs like a second skin. The hated chest harness left his scarred body bare for any who cared to look, and while he’d long since ceased to see the scars as marks of failure, he was still uncomfortable exposing them so openly. The note left with the clothing had said to dress and join Sir here once he was ready. It hadn’t said anything about the others.
Master David was the first to spot him, shooting him a bright, welcoming smile. This brought both Lady Bella and Master David’s boy’s attention to him and he could feel his cheeks heating under their combined regard. He dropped his eyes to the floor, waiting. Footsteps approached and Sir’s boots stopped in front of him. He didn’t… couldn’t move and waited for Sir’s command to give him some indication of what was expected of him. Gentle fingers caught his chin and lifted his face until he could meet Sir’s eyes.
“Relax, boy,” Sir ordered softly, His thumb brushing a calming caress over tightly compressed lips. “These are our family, a thaisce. I’ve asked them te bear witness te something tonight before I take ya back te one o’ the private rooms and keep ya there until we have te return te the apartment te get Jack.”
He felt his knees go weak at the heated promise in the words. “please.”
Sir’s dark chuckle shivered over his skin. “Soon. First things first, though.” He stepped back, face stern, commanding. “Follow.”
The sharp tone broke through any reservations he had. Sir would never put him in danger. He followed willingly, stopping as Sir did, eyes down and body relaxed. He was vaguely aware of the others forming a loose circle around them, but he put them from his mind and concentrated on Sir.
“Kneel.”
He lowered himself to the floor at Sir’s feet, dropping into the modified kneel that Sir had taught him. He relaxed as Sir’s strong hand settled on his bowed head, stroking his hair.
“As ya all know,” Sir began, “Aaron and I have been together fer some time now. And in that time we’ve weathered some frantic and dangerous waters. I’m very proud of my boy and the way he’s represented not only me, but himself. He’s proven himself resourceful, loyal, loving, and has become very precious te me. Tonight, I wish to make it clear te everyone, including my boy, just what my Aaron means te me.” Again, strong fingers lifted his chin. “Look at me, boy.”
He opened his eyes and met his Sir’s emerald ones in confusion. Sir smiled reassuringly at him and he relaxed.
“Aaron. Ye’ve given yerself te me freely time and again. Ye’ve served me, allowed me te take care o’ you, and have taken care of me when I was at my most troublesome.”
He chuckled, remembering how hard it had been for his Sir as He’d recovered from His injuries.
“We have spoken of our relationship a great deal in the last month and believe it is time te mark ya more formally as Mine.”
His hand went to the bite mark over his heart that Sir had refreshed just that morning. The mild ache as his fingers pressed against the dark bruise made him smile. He wasn’t sure how Sir could mark him more thoroughly, but assumed Sir would explain soon.
“Chin up, boy.” Sir held out His hand and Master David stepped forward and placed something in Sir’s palm. Sir brought the object closer and he felt his breath catch in his throat. It was a collar. Deep green leather, nearly the color of Sir’s eyes in the throes of passion, backed an intricate chain woven in silver and black. The chain was caught behind a small silver D-ring in the center of the collar and ended at the locking clasps at either end of the leather. The lock for the clasps was a solid looking key-lock with the key in the lock but tethered by a simple, braided leather cord. To either side of the D-ring, half way between the ring and the end clasps sat square cut emeralds in silver settings. The stones caught the light and made them sparkle with an inner brilliance that reminded him of Sir’s eyes when He laughed. “Aaron,” Sir said quietly, “will ya do me the honor of taking my collar?”
He swallowed, overcome. He finally managed to nod his acceptance, his voice caught behind the lump in his throat.
Sir smiled and pressed a reassuring kiss to his forehead before carefully fastening the collar around his throat. Sir’s hands lingered after the lock clicked closed, resting against his neck. “Proud o’ ya, boy,” He whispered. “Stand with me and accept their congratulations, then the time is ours.”
He rose as gracefully as he could on shaking knees. Sir’s arm wrapped around his waist and they stood and accepted the handshakes and congratulations of the people gathered. Master David and Lady Bella both hugged him. The two young men he didn’t know were introduced as Sir’s nephew Griffin and his husband Ben. The young men welcomed him to the family and said they looked forward to dinner with them soon. Finally, Mistress gave them Her congratulations and ushered everyone out. The silence was welcome and he leaned into Sir’s embrace.
“This is just the beginning, a thaisce,” Sir whispered. “But we’ll discuss that later. Now, now is for us.” Sir kissed him, claiming his mouth, demanding his submission - which he willingly gave. Sir took his hand and led him from the room, down the hall, and into one of the private suites, closing the door behind them.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Patrick took his time undressing his boy, savoring each shiver, each sigh as he ran his fingers over Aaron’s skin. The harness went first, Patrick’s sure fingers making short work of the buckles and drawing it off of his boy’s broad shoulders. He rewarded Aaron’s patience with a lingering kiss. He repeated the pattern with Aaron’s boots, and the leather pants, and finally, his boy’s underwear - leaving his boy naked save for Patrick’s collar.
He hooked his finger through the D-ring at the front of the collar and led his boy to the suspended sex-swing this particular suite offered. He watched his boy’s brown eyes widen as he took in the collection of wide straps and padded restraints that hung by heavy chain from the ceiling. “Trust me, a thaisce,” he whispered.
“I already do, Sir,” was the immediate answer.
Again, he rewarded his boy with a deep, heated kiss. “In to the swing,” he ordered. He helped his boy settle into the swaying harness, positioning his long body so it was supported by the wide strips of leather and cloth. Long arms were settled in comfortable restraints. Strong legs were spread wide and wrapped in leather at thigh, knee, calf and ankle, comfortably held and easily moved. With a few, gentle pulls, Aaron was completely exposed, his body open and available for whatever his Sir had planned.
And Patrick most definitely had a plan.
He started slowly, his work-rough hands rubbing and massaging Aaron’s thighs, ass, hips, stomach, whatever Sir could reach from his position between his boy’s legs. Even as Aaron sighed and tried to arch up for a more intimate touch, Patrick’s hands moved away from his boy’s cock. He massaged Aaron’s balls, strong fingers pressing behind them, onto the perineum, stroking, fondling until Aaron’s cock was dark and weeping with need. He swept his fingers over the crown of his boy’s cock, gathering up the pre-come carefully. In one swift move he deep-throated his boy’s cock as he pressed his slicked finger into his boy’s welcoming body. He massaged his boy’s prostate, his body braced as Aaron’s movements sent the swing gently swaying. Three firm strokes to the bundle of nerves, a long, hard draw on the heated flesh in his mouth, and he was rewarded with his boy’s release. He swallowed the thick, slightly bitter fluid, making Aaron whimper and try to draw away.
He released his boy’s cock and carefully slid his finger free. Aaron’s confused gaze made him smile. “Trust me. We’re nowhere near done, a thaisce. But I needed ya more… relaxed, fer what I’ve got planned.”
He ran a teasing finger over Aaron’s lax genitals. “Remember how I once told ya I’d fill this sweet, virgin hole, boy?” The lax cock twitched as Aaron moaned. “Tonight I’m going te do just that. Gonna send ya flying, boy.”
He turned and retrieved a small box that he set on Aaron’s flat stomach, balancing it there with a challenging smile. “Good boy,” he praised as Aaron stilled in his bonds. He opened the box, letting Aaron see its contents. Eight silver rods rested on burgundy velvet. Each rod had a delicate double curve, looking like an elongated ‘s’ and they varied in size from a few millimeters to the size of Patrick’s thumb. Patrick pulled the smallest rod from the box and coated it with thick lube from a small packet Aaron hadn’t seen him open. “Sterile lube,” Patrick said as he smoothed it over the smaller end of the rod. He carefully lifted Aaron’s cock, rubbing the cold metal over the slit in the head.
Aaron tensed at the unusual sensation, his movements causing the swing to rock gently, nearly upsetting the box still balanced on his stomach. Patrick caught the box, releasing Aaron’s cock in the process, and carefully moved it to the floor. He stood and studied his boy carefully. “What are yer safe words, a thaisce?”
“Red for stop,” Aaron recited, eyes closing as he relaxed into the familiar safety net of words. “Yellow for slow down, blue for emotional distress issues, green for continue.”
“Good boy,” he praised. “Which do ya feel now?”
Aaron thought carefully, his eyes glued to the silver implement in his Sir’s hand. “Green, Sir,” he breathed as he watched his Sir’s face. “But… slowly?”
“Oh a thaisce,” Patrick soothed. “Slow and gentle. I’d not hurt ya fer the world.” He pressed a kiss to Aaron’s thigh, taking a moment to rub his bearded face over the sensitive skin. He watched as Aaron relaxed bit by bit, sinking deeper into his submission. Finally, he began again. His touch was careful, tender, as he gripped Aaron’s cock. He fit the lubed sound against the tiny hole, tracing the opening, sliding the tip around the outer edge of the slit, teasing and lubricating it at the same time. As his boy relaxed, he slid the sound into the hole, letting just the barest bit of metal breach the tender passage. Aaron tensed beneath his hands and he held very still. The swaying of the swing as Aaron shivered pressed the sound just a bit deeper.
Aaron moaned.
Patrick waited until Aaron stilled before easing the sound just a bit deeper. He massaged his boy’s cock as he loosely held the sound and let gravity pull the metal slowly down, deeper into the virgin passage.
Aaron’s breath caught and his hands clutched at the leather restraints.
“Ye’re doin’ so well, Aaron.” He carefully shifted the sound, holding it and moving it in and out of Aaron’s cock with minute movements that had Aaron keening even as he struggled to hold still. He fucked his boy for long moments, enjoying the way Aaron’s cock slowly firmed around the metal as he rhythmically squeezed the tender flesh and moved the sound. He leaned in and licked up the underside of Aaron’s cock making his boy arch in the restraints. He moved with the resultant swinging. He made sure the sound was secure, the top of the sound being too large to slide fully down the shaft, and retrieved another item from the box.
The item looked like the other sound, only larger and not as curved. Patrick ran the chilled metal over Aaron’s perineum and twisted the base. It started to vibrate. The focused, intense vibrations echoed through Aaron’s body, teasing at his prostate, resonating through the metal of the sound. Patrick held the vibrator still, watching his boy as he twitched and whimpered. He braced himself against the back of Aaron’s thigh, his furred chest pressed tight against the sensitive skin. He wrapped one strong arm around the thigh and took hold of the sound once more.
He started a slow, torturous rhythm of thrust and pull with the sound as he moved the vibrator from perineum to ball sac and up the shaft of Aaron’s cock. He teased at the underside of the crown, feeling the way Aaron’s thigh muscles tensed and twitched as he rode the sensations. Reversing the path of the vibrator, he teased the shaft, then the balls, watching as the sac tightened. Aaron was close. He ghosted the metal tip over Aaron’s perineum and then just a bit further, running the hard metal over the nerve rich folds of Aaron’s anus. Aaron cried out, his cock leaking around the sound. Patrick bit Aaron’s thigh, sucking a dark, red love-bite onto the pale skin. “Are ya ready? Are ya ready te give this up te me as well?”
A broken ‘please’ was his only answer… and the only answer he needed. He pressed the vibrator hard against the thin skin of Aaron’s perineum as he withdrew the sound with a skilled twist of the wrist. “Then come fer me, a thaisce,” he ordered.
Aaron screamed out his pleasure as his body spasmed, arching in the restraints and sending him swaying, adding to the overwhelming mix of new and old sensations. Sir’s voice, praising and soothing and urging him on, combined with the new and intense pleasure of the sounding and the concentrated sensation of the pin-point vibrator. It was too much, overloading his pleasure centers until he shattered. Aaron went slack in the swing, body still twitching with aftershocks, face a study of contented bliss.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He came aware slowly, his body languid in the swing.
“Back with me then?” Sir’s voice asked, heavy with amusement and lust.
He sighed, shifting in the supporting straps and making the swing sway gently.
Sir groaned, His hands tightening around the straps, controlling the swing’s movements. “Easy, boy,” he growled, “or this’ll be over before it’s even begun.”
It took a minute for his pleasure-dulled senses to realize what his Sir was saying. Sir’s hips were pressed tight against his ass, His still hard cock stretching his relaxed hole. He turned wide eyes on his Sir who smiled and rocked the swing lightly. He hissed as he realized what Sir was doing, Sir was using the sway of the swing to fuck him. He tried to affect the momentum only to find himself completely without purchase and unable to do more than twist his hips or tighten his internal muscles to add to Sir’s sensations. Sir kept His green eyes fixed on his face as He kept the rhythm slow, driving Himself deep with each new thrust.
He could feel the ache of it building but knew there was no chance he’d come again so soon. But he could give his body over to his Sir, submitting completely to his Sir’s pleasure. “Please, Sir,” he sighed, body relaxing into the restraints of the swing. “Please.”
It seemed to be the signal Sir had been waiting for. He grabbed his hips and pulled their bodies together sharply, fighting the movement of the swing for several thrusts until the momentum shifted, adjusting to the new, powerful thrusts.
He felt like he was burning from the inside out, pleasure building to nearly painful levels as he watched Sir reach for His own release. His cock twitched, trying to respond, but there was nothing left. Nothing left but the sunburst warmth of Sir’s touch, of Sir’s need. A need he was fulfilling. “Love you,” he whispered, uncertain if he wished for Sir to hear it or not.
Sir’s green eyes darkened further. “Ta mo chrio istigh ionat,” He responded, voice rough, breathing ragged. Sir slammed forward one last time, arms tightening to keep them joined as He roared His release, hips jerking, fingers leaving deep bruises behind as they clenched tight. “Aaron,” He sighed. “My sweet, sweet Aaron.” He rested His forehead on one of the straps, regaining His breath. “Mine,” He rumbled, hands soothing over sweat damp skin.
“Yours,” he answered in kind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Moving from the swing to the large bed wasn’t nearly as graceful or as romantic as either of them had hoped, but they managed (with some unintended bruises and a great deal of laughter). Patrick took his time cleaning his boy, delighting in the way Aaron relaxed under his hands. The dark of the collar against Aaron’s skin, the knowledge that this amazing man had accepted it, was a thrill all of its own. But there was more he wanted, more he hoped to ask of the man now lying heavy in his arms. But not at the moment, not when the emotions were so close to the surface, when his boy was still floating on the powerful waves of submission.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Aaron said quietly, his long fingers carding through Patrick’s graying chest hair absently. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Patrick reassured him, pressing a soft kiss to Aaron’s sweat-damp hair. “Everything’s fine.”
Aaron tilted his head back to study his too quiet Sir. “Um hum,” he replied noncommittally. “Tell me in the morning?” he pressed.
Patrick smiled. “In the morning, over breakfast,” he promised. “Now sleep, a thaisce. All is well.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Morning came all too early for Aaron. His body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding him of the delightful activities of the night before. His hand went to his new collar, fingers running over it reverently as if uncertain it was real. It was. He stretched, reaching out for Patrick, only to find the bed not only empty, but cold. He sat up carefully, body protesting slightly. He ignored the twinges and looked around the elegant suite for his Sir, who was nowhere to be seen.
Eyes narrowing, he eased from the bed, worried for Patrick even as his profiler instincts told him that they were safe here at the Leaf. “Patrick?” he called out hesitantly.
“Here, Aaron,” a voice called from behind a screen he’d not noticed before. Not bothering with clothing, he joined his Sir in what turned out to be a small kitchen complete with a charming breakfast nook that was set for two. Patrick sat at the table, coffee cup and pastry already in front of him. “Andi sent her best for us this morning, but I thought you’d do better with a bit more sleep.”
Aaron smiled and went to kneel by his Sir’s side.
Patrick stopped him with a hand on his arm. “In the chair this morning, Aaron,” Patrick said softly. “I need you here as Aaron for a moment, not as my Irish.”
Aaron was suddenly worried. Had he done something wrong last night? Had he overstepped some boundary he didn’t even know was there?
“No. No, a thaisce,” Patrick reassured, rising from his seat and pulling Aaron into his arms. “It’s nothing like that. I swear it’s not.” He kissed his pensive lover, holding him until the stiff body relaxed against him. “Ruui always said I was absolute rubbish at these things,” he admitted as he urged Aaron down into a chair. “Let me start again. Last night I promised we’d talk this morning and that’s what I intend to do, I’m just not sure exactly where to start.” He pulled his chair close to Aaron’s so he could hold the younger man’s hand.
“When Ruui and I made things official,” he began, “Ruui had to all but beat me over the head to make me realize what it was I really wanted. We had ten wonderful years before the damned cancer took him from me. His death taught me something valuable - we never know how long we have or when it might all be taken from us.” He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “And the damned pushy bastard made me promise him that I’d not waste the rest of me life grieving over him, but that I’d find a handsome, worthy young man and make that young man as happy as I’d made him.” He chuckled. “Don’t know as I did all that much to make him happy, but I promised him I’d try.”
He squeezed Aaron’s hand. “I hadn’t found anyone who lived up to my Ruui’s memory. He was one of a kind, he was. But David reminded me of something when we were planning and plotting how te get ya to agree to lettin’ me help with yer plan. He reminded me that Ruui wasn’t perfect. He could be a right pissy bastard when he wanted te be and his sulk would put Nick’s twins to shame.” He laughed. “He was human, flawed and wonderful and priceless, and I’d not have changed a second of what we shared. But… it’s hard for anyone to live up to an idolized memory,” he admitted softly.
“Until you.”
Aaron blinked at the revelation.
“Just hear me out before I lose me nerve, boy,” he pleaded. “Let your Sir make a right fool of himself before ya make up yer mind. I’ve seen ya face down yer worst demons. I’ve seen ya lead yer team with a skill that any dom would be proud of. And I’ve seen ya lost in yer passions. Ye’re amazing, boy. And I think Ruui would approve - I know I do.” He let go of Aaron’s hand and reached into his robe pocket. He took another deep breath and brought out a small, velvet box.
“I don’t know if I can make ya as happy as I apparently made Ruui,” he said with a wry smile. “But I’d like the chance te try.” He opened the box, revealing a silver key and a simple silver band set with a tasteful, square cut emerald that matched the ones on his collar. “Move in wi’ me. Love me and let me love you and that amazing little boy 24/7. Let me help take care of ya both as well as ya take care o’ me when wearing me collar - or out of it.”
He looked down at his hands, uncertain he wanted to see what was in Aaron’s eyes at that moment, worried about losing his nerve. “The apartment building is secure, in fact, we’ve got several people living here with a security clearance ya wouldn’t believe, so ya know it would be safe. It’s not directly connected to the Leaf even though a lot of the people from the Leaf live there - so it’s not like Jack would be exposed to the Lifestyle unexpectedly. Mistress and her husband live four doors down and have three kids, the middle one being right around Jack’s age and the Zakaria clan come by all the time, so he’d not lack playmates. And… well, I’d really like to have ya with me.”
Aaron had to free his hand from Patrick’s deathgrip. He then placed a warm finger against his Sir’s lips. “I work crazy hours. Jack can be a real handful, trust me. You’ve only seen him on his best behavior. I can be a real work-a-holic and sometimes I can’t shake the rough cases and the emotions come home with me. I lost Halley to this job, and I promise to try and do better, but it may take some time to break those old habits. That said, are you really sure you want to do this?”
“Positive,” Patrick answered without hesitation.
“Good,” Aaron said with a grin. “Because Jack’s been constantly asking *why* you couldn’t live with us all the time since you made me so happy.” He chuckled.
“Knew I liked that boy,” Patrick admitted with a broad smile.
Aaron laughed, then held out his left hand. He shivered as Patrick slipped the ring on him. Something seemed to ‘click’ inside as the ring settled into place, the emerald sparkling in the dim light. He looked up at Patrick and graced him with a small smile. “I love you, Liam Patrick Zakaria,” he said formally.
Patrick returned the smile. “And I, you, a thaisce. And I you.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Where thou art, that is home. - Emily Dickinson
Epilog - Four and a half months later
“DA!” Jack yelled as Patrick came through the door at Jessica’s. The little boy ran to the older man, wrapping himself around the solid form. “Why are you picking me up? I thought daddy was picking me up tonight. We’re s’pose to go costume shopping tonight.”
Patrick smiled down at the little boy. “Your daddy and everyone are running a little late so I came to pick ya up. Is that okay? I mean. I could leave ya here if ye’d rather wait,” he teased, winking at Jessica over the little boy’s head.
“Daaaaaa,” Jack scolded. “S’pose to go costume shopping,” Jack said with a pout.
“And we will,” he promised. “But, yer aunt JJ called and said the team could *really* use some little kid laughter when they got home. So, Will’s bringing Henry. I’m bringing a certain little tree frog,” he tapped Jack’s nose teasingly, making the boy giggle. “And Nick is bringing the twins.”
Jack’s wide smile got even wider. “Really?!” He stopped, his expression going serious as he seemed to ponder the situation. “Can we go costume shopping with Greg and Annie?” he asked.
“We can see.”
“And you and Aunt Penny and Uncle Sean’ll help, right. Cause you all know the coolest outfits and,” he paused, eyes glancing around furtively, “daddy’s not so good with picking costumes,” he whispered. “OH, and we have to get somethin’ for daddy’s birthday!”
He and Jessica exchanged fond smiles. “We can do that,” he promised. “Now, go get yer stuff so we can meet the team when they get in.”
Jack smiled brightly. “Yes, Sir!” he said sharply, turning and walking quickly back to get his things. As he watched the little boy go, he couldn’t help but marvel at the domesticity he’d found and how, after so long, he’d once again found home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I really hope you enjoyed this story. It wasn't an easy one, but i enjoyed writing it. Remember to go and LAVISH praise on the wonderful artists for the AMAZING art they did, and thank you for taking the time to read (and hopefully comment).
pax,
the kendermouse
Part 0 = Here
Part 1 = Here
Part 2 = Here
Part 3 = Here
Part 4 = Here
Part 5 = Here
Part 6 = Here
Thanks for sticking with me to the end. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Now, on to the conclusion of our story.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The family you come from isn't as important as the family you're going to have. - Ring Lardner
Aaron watched Patrick sleep. The older man lay carefully propped to keep pressure off his injured back while not putting additional stress on his cracked ribs and relocated shoulder and left ankle. He’d been damned lucky. The injuries, while painful, were relatively minor compared to what the unsub could inflict. In addition to the vicious cane strikes that Aaron had witnessed, Jane Radel had apparently used a thick metal rod to beat the bound and drugged Patrick as well. According to the emergency room doctor, had her blows been two inches over, she could have broken Patrick’s back like she had Paul’s.
The thing that haunted Aaron the most as he studied his sleeping Sir, however, was the knowledge that the attacks on Paul and Patrick were both his fault.
His panic attack at the Leaf had led to Jane Radel’s fixation on the two dominants. In her troubled mind, she had been working to protect *him*, to avenge wrongs done to him by ‘unscrupulous dominants’. Logically, he knew the attacks weren’t his fault, but emotionally… it was difficult *not* to see himself as the catalyst for both men being hurt. It was something he was going to have to come to terms with, and soon, before it ‘impacted his ability to function in a healthy emotional and psychological manner’. He sighed, brought out his PDA and made a note to contact Dr. Sayers for an appointment and possibly put in a call to George Huang just for good measure. He wasn’t going to let another unsub control him and interfere with his relationship with Patrick. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, and Jane Radel wasn’t worth losing the peace he’d found with his Sir.
He put away his PDA and reached out to take Patrick’s hand. Aaron gently ran his fingers over the edge of the white dressing covering the abrasions caused by Patrick’s struggles against the hemp she’d bound him with. He absently cataloged the differences between the cool, rough dressing and the warmth of Patrick’s skin, warmth that reminded him Patrick was still alive. He suppressed a shudder at the thought, memories of Haley’s cold skin haunting him.
“Such a troubled look in one so young,” a soft, heavily accented, feminine voice said from the doorway.
Aaron turned, eyes narrowed and hand dropping quickly from where it had been stroking Patrick’s skin (not from shame, but for ease of access to his back-up piece if needed). He relaxed as he took in the small, dusky-skinned woman watching them both with a sad, gentle smile. He’d seen her picture before, in Patrick’s apartment. This was Dipti Zakaria; Rooshad Zakaria’s mother and the closest thing to a mother Patrick would claim. Her long, dark blue, heavily embroidered dress skimmed over her slender, barely five foot frame, and was belted with a bright, multi-hued scarf. Her steel gray hair was pulled back into a thick braid that fell past her shoulders, but rather than being severe, it seemed to simply add to her quiet charm. Her lined face was testament to her years, but her step was sure and her brown eyes sparkled with vitality. She returned Aaron’s gaze easily, standing silently in the doorway until Aaron relaxed back in the chair. “Mrs. Zakaria?” he asked, just to be certain.
She nodded, her smile brightening. “Call me Dipti,” she urged. “And you are our Patrick’s Aaron.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered even as he rose from the chair to offer it to her.
“Sit, child,” the tiny woman scolded kindly. “It is right that your face be the first thing he sees when he awakes.”
Aaron could feel his cheeks heat at the words.
Dipti’s light laughter danced around the quiet room. She moved to Aaron’s side, her eyes studying the still figure on the bed. Her smile faltered a bit as she took in the bandages and bruises. She reached out a surprisingly steady hand and caressed Patrick’s bearded cheek. “[Sweet boy,]” she whispered in her native tongue, “[what have you done to yourself this time?]”
Aaron didn’t understand the whispered words, but their concern was clear. “He’s going to be fine,” he reassured, both for her and for himself.
“Thank you,” the woman answered eyes still on Patrick. “And you, Aaron, how are you fairing?”
The question stunned him. He’d not been the one attacked, the one beaten. “I… I’m fine, Ma’am.”
She turned to study him. After several long, uncomfortable minutes, she reached out and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned forward and pressed a soft, motherly kiss to his forehead. “[So like Ruui,]” she breathed, her kind exasperation clear in the melodic words. “Patrick is not the only one hurt by this,” she explained. “What affects him, affects you. That is the way of the heart.” She brushed her fingers through his hair. “So I ask again, Aaron. How are you fairing?”
He closed his eyes, chuckling wryly as he got his first taste of why Patrick referred to her as ‘Hurricane Dipti’. “I’m… managing,” he admitted. “Knowing he’s going to be okay helps.”
She patted the side of his face. “He’s always been a fighter, especially when he has something he loves to fight for.”
Aaron’s hand unconsciously came up to rest over the mark Patrick had left on his skin (had it really only been two nights ago?).
Dipti smiled at the gesture. “It is easier with the reassurance, yes? So much more… calming than a ring that can be removed or a piece of paper that can be burned.” Aaron looked at her in confusion. “The mark,” she said with an understanding smile. “Patrick would mark Ruui that way as well. He claimed it was a way to keep himself close to Ruui’s heart when he couldn’t be there himself. Ruui carried his mark to his final rest.” She met Aaron’s eyes. “It is good that Patrick has found another he wishes to mark in such a way. He has been alone too long.”
The unexpected mark made so much more sense now. It was Patrick’s way of making sure a part of him stayed with Aaron as they headed into the dangerous sting. But did it also mean the depth of commitment that Dipti seemed to think it did?
“Sunni and Griffin will be so pleased,” Dipti continued, unaware of the effect of her words on Aaron. “Of all the family, they have been the most concerned for Patrick. Sunni because she is the ‘older sister’ and Griffin because he is so close to his uncle.” She grinned at Aaron. “But Pravin and I shall hold off the Zakaria tribe until both of you are well rested,” she promised.
Aaron blinked. “Please. I’m sure they’ll all want to see him. I wouldn’t want to…”
“Aaron,” she interrupted gently. “I have, aside from Patrick, a daughter and son-in-law, four grandchildren and their spouses, five great-grandchildren who range in age from twenty-two to five, and one great, great granddaughter who was born last week. They are boisterous and overwhelming at the best of times. Now, as they will all wish to check on Patrick’s health and, more importantly, meet the newest additions to the family, they will be twice as overwhelming. I would not do that to you, Aaron. You will have enough to worry about keeping that one from overdoing,” she said with a knowing smile. “Though, I will admit I am looking forward to meeting my newest grandson. Patrick says that your Jack is nearly the same age as Nicholas’ twins.”
At Aaron’s stunned silence, Dipti paused, looking from Aaron’s surprised face to Patrick’s still form. “Oh.” She took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Aaron,” she said ruefully, “I fear I have misspoken. I had assumed when Patrick came to ask our blessing that he would talk with you soon after.”
“Your blessing?” Aaron asked, clearly confused.
Dipti smiled, shaking her head. “The foolish boy feared we would turn our backs on him if he found love after Ruui.” She reached out and squeezed Patrick’s arm. “He did not seem to realize what Pravin meant when he claimed Patrick as his son. Why would a family turn their back on a son simply for finding love again?” She turned and looked at Aaron. “Please try and act surprised when he finally speaks to you about this?”
Stunned, Aaron could only nod. There would be no need to act.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Hotchner,” Aaron answered, juggling his cell and his son.
“Good news,” Rossi declared, not bothering with formalities. “Jane Radel finally confessed to everything and then some. Between that and the blood evidence on the various BDSM implements found at the scene, she and Gregor are going away for a very long time.”
Aaron paused in buckling Jack into his car seat. After three weeks of interviews, evidence gathering, DNA testing, psychological evaluations and legal jockeying, this damned case was finally coming to a close. Aaron couldn’t help the sigh of relief at the thought. Now maybe they could all get on with their lives. Then the rest of Rossi’s statement sank in. “Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing, “And then some?” he asked in confusion.
“Yeah. Apparently Gregor *was* her third victim. The first guy she accidentally overdosed when she drugged him but since he had known heart problems and it looked like a heart attack, it was ruled natural causes.” Rossi chuckled mirthlessly. “Apparently, since he was known for being a bit of an ass who didn’t look after himself, no one looked too closely at his death.”
Aaron nodded, shifting back to finish settling Jack in, only to find that the little boy already had the straps in place and secured. He smiled at his son, ruffling his soft hair.
“Since nothing happened after three months, she took it as a sign,” Rossi continued. “Remember the Horner family? Well, she blamed Luther Horner for his wife’s death and decided she’d been chosen to ‘make him pay’ for it.” He paused. “We’re searching the area she says she dumped the body. We found the RV, but no body.”
“How did she manage to move them?” Aaron asked after closing the door to the car. “She’s not a big woman.”
“She used a lift,” Rossi answered. “She used to do home health care and had a mobile lift that was small enough to store in the back of her car. She’d bring it out, put it together, wrap the straps around the unconscious victim and hook them to the lift. The lift did the work, she just had to roll them into the room and lower them into the restraints so she and Gregor could do what they wanted.”
“God,” Aaron breathed, stunned by the brutal efficiency of the pair. “Are they going to try and plead diminished capacity?”
“No,” Dave assured. “Though she may not have a choice. Listening to her, I don’t know if they can honestly say she fits the legal definition of ‘sane’.” He sighed. “She honestly thought she was doing the right thing, Aaron. Gregor was in it for the money and the chance to brutalize others. She felt she was saving people.”
Aaron settled into the driver’s seat. “As long as she’s off the streets, that’s what matters.”
“That’s going to happen, it’s just a matter of where she ends up serving the time.” There was a long pause as Aaron started the car. “So? Off to rescue Patrick?”
“Yeah,” Aaron answered with a smile. “They’re letting him out today and Dipti asked Jack and I to go pick him up. He’ll be staying with us for the next week or two and then, if he’s doing well, they’ll clear him to return to work and he’ll head back to his apartment.”
“Ah. Keeping him away from temptation?” Rossi teased.
“Yes. Both Pravin and Mis,” he stopped, remembering the very alert little ears in the back seat. “and Patrick’s boss suggested it. He is apparently known for not taking his ordered down time.”
“Oh yeah!” Rossi agreed whole-heartedly. “He’s almost as bad as his sub where that’s concerned.”
Aaron could feel his cheeks heat at the gentle rebuke. “Pot meet kettle,” he shot back. Dave’s laughter was soothing, even over the phone line. “Okay. We need to get moving.”
“Sure thing. You need anything?”
Aaron thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. Dipti and Sunni were going to bring over food later and I’ve got everything else well stocked.”
“Okay. If you need anything, call me. Oh, and tell Spencer, who should be with your Sir, that he needs to be at my place by 6pm.”
“I’ll call if I think of anything,” he promised. “and is there something I should know about you and Spencer?” Rossi’s silence told him more than he really wanted to know about his subordinates. He sighed. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with the job or your interactions at work,” he said firmly, “and you’re careful around Strauss, we’re good. Hurt him, and I’ll let Garcia loose on you.”
“Fair enough,” Rossi acquiesced. “But I think I’d be more worried about Derek and Emily. They carry guns and can actually hit the broad side of a barn.”
“You’ve never seen Garcia angry, have you?” Aaron countered. “She’s the one you should be scared of. Trust me.” Aaron smiled as Rossi chuckled. “Anyway. We really do need to get moving. Talk to you once we’re settled.” They said their goodbyes, including a shouted ‘bye Uncle Dave’ from the back seat, and Aaron hung up the phone. “Ready to go, buddy?” He asked, looking back at his son.
“Yep.”
Aaron smiled and put the car in gear, heading out to the hospital and Patrick.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The love we give away is the only love we keep - Elbert Hubbard
“Irish! Get a move on!” Paul called from the foyer. “We’ll both be in deep sh,” he quickly changed the word as Jessica walked out of the back bedroom with Jack trailing after her. “trouble, if we don’t get moving.”
Jack giggled. “Paul almost said a bad word, daddy,” the little boy called out. “Does he have to put money in the jar?”
“No.” Aaron said from behind his sister-in-law. “Because he stopped before he finished it.”
Paul chuckled. “Thanks man,” he said with a grin. “I still haven’t gotten the hang of getting to my change in this thing.” He patted the side of his new motorized wheelchair. “I know Micah put it in a pouch on here somewhere, but I never can remember where!”
“Job security,” Jessica said deadpan, even as she leaned down to press a kiss to Paul’s cheek. “Tell Micah I’ll pick him up at 8am on Monday. We’ll need to be at the shop by 8:30 but it’s close to you two.”
Paul nodded. “Will do, and thanks again for offering. That van is going to be a godsend now.”
“No problem.” She ruffled Jack’s hair. “Okay, kiddo. Grab your bag and let’s get moving. Uncle Sean is waiting very impatiently downstairs and Nick and Dana are meeting us at the zoo.” The little boy let out a cheerful whoop and rushed off to his bedroom.
“Jack!” Aaron called out sharply. “No running in the house!” The sound of little footsteps slowed and the three adults shared knowing grins. “Thank you and Sean for taking him this weekend.”
“No problem,” she reassured him. “You know we love having him, and Annie and Greg are just sweethearts. Besides, with Nick and Dana there, we’ll outnumber them four to three. The adults just *might* have a chance at wearing them out before they wear *us* out.”
Aaron shook his head in amusement. He was pleased that she and Patrick’s nephew and his family had hit it off so well. The twins, Annie and Greg, were a year younger than Jack and the three had become nearly inseparable since they’d met in the hospital while visiting ‘Uncle Patrick’. In the month since Patrick’s release from the hospital, the families had grown closer. Dipti had been right, the whole Zakaria ‘tribe’ were a bit overwhelming at first, but in a good way. They had accepted Aaron and Jack easily, welcoming them with smiles and embarrassing stories about each other over large and boisterous meals. Dipti had also adopted most of the BAU team, claiming they all became family when they kept her sons (and hadn’t that caused Aaron’s heart to flip, sons - plural) safe. It was not uncommon to come back from a bad case and be greeted by an invitation to a home-cooked meal once they were rested, or to find pastries waiting for them as they got back to the offices. Dipti claimed it was a way to keep her busy now that all her children were gone. Patrick said it was just how Dipti was.
Quick footsteps were the only warning Aaron got before a little torpedo barreled into his leg, arms wrapping tight.
“Bye, Daddy!” the little boy sing-songed. “Hug Uncle Patrick for me and tell Uncle Spencer that he needs to be good or I won’t share my new science book with him.” The little whirlwind released him and grabbed Jess’ hand, tugging her towards the door. “Come *on* Aunt Jess.”
Paul quickly shifted out of the way as Jess and Jack headed out the door, both waiving their goodbyes. The door closed behind them and Aaron chuckled. “I think I just came in second to a zoo.”
“Nope. To a zoo and two kids his own age, that’s not quite as bad,” Paul said with a grin. “Now. Come on. We need to get downstairs before your Sir sends up Lady Bella. And trust me, that is *not* a lady you want to piss off.”
Aaron chuckled, laying a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “My friend, you have no idea.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He wasn’t sure just what he expected as he entered the small side room his Sir had reserved for them, but it wasn’t this. Sir stood in the middle of a ring of people. Some he knew, others he didn’t. Mistress stood beside Sir, a champagne flute in one hand, Her girl’s leash in the other. Master Walt was deep in conversation with Sir, Ms. Vixen at His side while Fox and a handsome man that he assumed was the elusive Alexi knelt at their feet. Paul, Micah and Master Payton sat in one corner talking with two young men he didn’t know, but who looked vaguely familiar. Master David, Lady Bella and Master David’s boy rounded out the gathering, but didn’t bring him any closer to understanding why they were all there.
He felt incredibly exposed as he paused at the doorway, uncertain what Sir was expecting from him. He’d dressed in the clothing Sir had left for him in the changing room. The supple leather pants clung to his legs like a second skin. The hated chest harness left his scarred body bare for any who cared to look, and while he’d long since ceased to see the scars as marks of failure, he was still uncomfortable exposing them so openly. The note left with the clothing had said to dress and join Sir here once he was ready. It hadn’t said anything about the others.
Master David was the first to spot him, shooting him a bright, welcoming smile. This brought both Lady Bella and Master David’s boy’s attention to him and he could feel his cheeks heating under their combined regard. He dropped his eyes to the floor, waiting. Footsteps approached and Sir’s boots stopped in front of him. He didn’t… couldn’t move and waited for Sir’s command to give him some indication of what was expected of him. Gentle fingers caught his chin and lifted his face until he could meet Sir’s eyes.
“Relax, boy,” Sir ordered softly, His thumb brushing a calming caress over tightly compressed lips. “These are our family, a thaisce. I’ve asked them te bear witness te something tonight before I take ya back te one o’ the private rooms and keep ya there until we have te return te the apartment te get Jack.”
He felt his knees go weak at the heated promise in the words. “please.”
Sir’s dark chuckle shivered over his skin. “Soon. First things first, though.” He stepped back, face stern, commanding. “Follow.”
The sharp tone broke through any reservations he had. Sir would never put him in danger. He followed willingly, stopping as Sir did, eyes down and body relaxed. He was vaguely aware of the others forming a loose circle around them, but he put them from his mind and concentrated on Sir.
“Kneel.”
He lowered himself to the floor at Sir’s feet, dropping into the modified kneel that Sir had taught him. He relaxed as Sir’s strong hand settled on his bowed head, stroking his hair.
“As ya all know,” Sir began, “Aaron and I have been together fer some time now. And in that time we’ve weathered some frantic and dangerous waters. I’m very proud of my boy and the way he’s represented not only me, but himself. He’s proven himself resourceful, loyal, loving, and has become very precious te me. Tonight, I wish to make it clear te everyone, including my boy, just what my Aaron means te me.” Again, strong fingers lifted his chin. “Look at me, boy.”
He opened his eyes and met his Sir’s emerald ones in confusion. Sir smiled reassuringly at him and he relaxed.
“Aaron. Ye’ve given yerself te me freely time and again. Ye’ve served me, allowed me te take care o’ you, and have taken care of me when I was at my most troublesome.”
He chuckled, remembering how hard it had been for his Sir as He’d recovered from His injuries.
“We have spoken of our relationship a great deal in the last month and believe it is time te mark ya more formally as Mine.”
His hand went to the bite mark over his heart that Sir had refreshed just that morning. The mild ache as his fingers pressed against the dark bruise made him smile. He wasn’t sure how Sir could mark him more thoroughly, but assumed Sir would explain soon.
“Chin up, boy.” Sir held out His hand and Master David stepped forward and placed something in Sir’s palm. Sir brought the object closer and he felt his breath catch in his throat. It was a collar. Deep green leather, nearly the color of Sir’s eyes in the throes of passion, backed an intricate chain woven in silver and black. The chain was caught behind a small silver D-ring in the center of the collar and ended at the locking clasps at either end of the leather. The lock for the clasps was a solid looking key-lock with the key in the lock but tethered by a simple, braided leather cord. To either side of the D-ring, half way between the ring and the end clasps sat square cut emeralds in silver settings. The stones caught the light and made them sparkle with an inner brilliance that reminded him of Sir’s eyes when He laughed. “Aaron,” Sir said quietly, “will ya do me the honor of taking my collar?”
He swallowed, overcome. He finally managed to nod his acceptance, his voice caught behind the lump in his throat.
Sir smiled and pressed a reassuring kiss to his forehead before carefully fastening the collar around his throat. Sir’s hands lingered after the lock clicked closed, resting against his neck. “Proud o’ ya, boy,” He whispered. “Stand with me and accept their congratulations, then the time is ours.”
He rose as gracefully as he could on shaking knees. Sir’s arm wrapped around his waist and they stood and accepted the handshakes and congratulations of the people gathered. Master David and Lady Bella both hugged him. The two young men he didn’t know were introduced as Sir’s nephew Griffin and his husband Ben. The young men welcomed him to the family and said they looked forward to dinner with them soon. Finally, Mistress gave them Her congratulations and ushered everyone out. The silence was welcome and he leaned into Sir’s embrace.
“This is just the beginning, a thaisce,” Sir whispered. “But we’ll discuss that later. Now, now is for us.” Sir kissed him, claiming his mouth, demanding his submission - which he willingly gave. Sir took his hand and led him from the room, down the hall, and into one of the private suites, closing the door behind them.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Patrick took his time undressing his boy, savoring each shiver, each sigh as he ran his fingers over Aaron’s skin. The harness went first, Patrick’s sure fingers making short work of the buckles and drawing it off of his boy’s broad shoulders. He rewarded Aaron’s patience with a lingering kiss. He repeated the pattern with Aaron’s boots, and the leather pants, and finally, his boy’s underwear - leaving his boy naked save for Patrick’s collar.
He hooked his finger through the D-ring at the front of the collar and led his boy to the suspended sex-swing this particular suite offered. He watched his boy’s brown eyes widen as he took in the collection of wide straps and padded restraints that hung by heavy chain from the ceiling. “Trust me, a thaisce,” he whispered.
“I already do, Sir,” was the immediate answer.
Again, he rewarded his boy with a deep, heated kiss. “In to the swing,” he ordered. He helped his boy settle into the swaying harness, positioning his long body so it was supported by the wide strips of leather and cloth. Long arms were settled in comfortable restraints. Strong legs were spread wide and wrapped in leather at thigh, knee, calf and ankle, comfortably held and easily moved. With a few, gentle pulls, Aaron was completely exposed, his body open and available for whatever his Sir had planned.
And Patrick most definitely had a plan.
He started slowly, his work-rough hands rubbing and massaging Aaron’s thighs, ass, hips, stomach, whatever Sir could reach from his position between his boy’s legs. Even as Aaron sighed and tried to arch up for a more intimate touch, Patrick’s hands moved away from his boy’s cock. He massaged Aaron’s balls, strong fingers pressing behind them, onto the perineum, stroking, fondling until Aaron’s cock was dark and weeping with need. He swept his fingers over the crown of his boy’s cock, gathering up the pre-come carefully. In one swift move he deep-throated his boy’s cock as he pressed his slicked finger into his boy’s welcoming body. He massaged his boy’s prostate, his body braced as Aaron’s movements sent the swing gently swaying. Three firm strokes to the bundle of nerves, a long, hard draw on the heated flesh in his mouth, and he was rewarded with his boy’s release. He swallowed the thick, slightly bitter fluid, making Aaron whimper and try to draw away.
He released his boy’s cock and carefully slid his finger free. Aaron’s confused gaze made him smile. “Trust me. We’re nowhere near done, a thaisce. But I needed ya more… relaxed, fer what I’ve got planned.”
He ran a teasing finger over Aaron’s lax genitals. “Remember how I once told ya I’d fill this sweet, virgin hole, boy?” The lax cock twitched as Aaron moaned. “Tonight I’m going te do just that. Gonna send ya flying, boy.”
He turned and retrieved a small box that he set on Aaron’s flat stomach, balancing it there with a challenging smile. “Good boy,” he praised as Aaron stilled in his bonds. He opened the box, letting Aaron see its contents. Eight silver rods rested on burgundy velvet. Each rod had a delicate double curve, looking like an elongated ‘s’ and they varied in size from a few millimeters to the size of Patrick’s thumb. Patrick pulled the smallest rod from the box and coated it with thick lube from a small packet Aaron hadn’t seen him open. “Sterile lube,” Patrick said as he smoothed it over the smaller end of the rod. He carefully lifted Aaron’s cock, rubbing the cold metal over the slit in the head.
Aaron tensed at the unusual sensation, his movements causing the swing to rock gently, nearly upsetting the box still balanced on his stomach. Patrick caught the box, releasing Aaron’s cock in the process, and carefully moved it to the floor. He stood and studied his boy carefully. “What are yer safe words, a thaisce?”
“Red for stop,” Aaron recited, eyes closing as he relaxed into the familiar safety net of words. “Yellow for slow down, blue for emotional distress issues, green for continue.”
“Good boy,” he praised. “Which do ya feel now?”
Aaron thought carefully, his eyes glued to the silver implement in his Sir’s hand. “Green, Sir,” he breathed as he watched his Sir’s face. “But… slowly?”
“Oh a thaisce,” Patrick soothed. “Slow and gentle. I’d not hurt ya fer the world.” He pressed a kiss to Aaron’s thigh, taking a moment to rub his bearded face over the sensitive skin. He watched as Aaron relaxed bit by bit, sinking deeper into his submission. Finally, he began again. His touch was careful, tender, as he gripped Aaron’s cock. He fit the lubed sound against the tiny hole, tracing the opening, sliding the tip around the outer edge of the slit, teasing and lubricating it at the same time. As his boy relaxed, he slid the sound into the hole, letting just the barest bit of metal breach the tender passage. Aaron tensed beneath his hands and he held very still. The swaying of the swing as Aaron shivered pressed the sound just a bit deeper.
Aaron moaned.
Patrick waited until Aaron stilled before easing the sound just a bit deeper. He massaged his boy’s cock as he loosely held the sound and let gravity pull the metal slowly down, deeper into the virgin passage.
Aaron’s breath caught and his hands clutched at the leather restraints.
“Ye’re doin’ so well, Aaron.” He carefully shifted the sound, holding it and moving it in and out of Aaron’s cock with minute movements that had Aaron keening even as he struggled to hold still. He fucked his boy for long moments, enjoying the way Aaron’s cock slowly firmed around the metal as he rhythmically squeezed the tender flesh and moved the sound. He leaned in and licked up the underside of Aaron’s cock making his boy arch in the restraints. He moved with the resultant swinging. He made sure the sound was secure, the top of the sound being too large to slide fully down the shaft, and retrieved another item from the box.
The item looked like the other sound, only larger and not as curved. Patrick ran the chilled metal over Aaron’s perineum and twisted the base. It started to vibrate. The focused, intense vibrations echoed through Aaron’s body, teasing at his prostate, resonating through the metal of the sound. Patrick held the vibrator still, watching his boy as he twitched and whimpered. He braced himself against the back of Aaron’s thigh, his furred chest pressed tight against the sensitive skin. He wrapped one strong arm around the thigh and took hold of the sound once more.
He started a slow, torturous rhythm of thrust and pull with the sound as he moved the vibrator from perineum to ball sac and up the shaft of Aaron’s cock. He teased at the underside of the crown, feeling the way Aaron’s thigh muscles tensed and twitched as he rode the sensations. Reversing the path of the vibrator, he teased the shaft, then the balls, watching as the sac tightened. Aaron was close. He ghosted the metal tip over Aaron’s perineum and then just a bit further, running the hard metal over the nerve rich folds of Aaron’s anus. Aaron cried out, his cock leaking around the sound. Patrick bit Aaron’s thigh, sucking a dark, red love-bite onto the pale skin. “Are ya ready? Are ya ready te give this up te me as well?”
A broken ‘please’ was his only answer… and the only answer he needed. He pressed the vibrator hard against the thin skin of Aaron’s perineum as he withdrew the sound with a skilled twist of the wrist. “Then come fer me, a thaisce,” he ordered.
Aaron screamed out his pleasure as his body spasmed, arching in the restraints and sending him swaying, adding to the overwhelming mix of new and old sensations. Sir’s voice, praising and soothing and urging him on, combined with the new and intense pleasure of the sounding and the concentrated sensation of the pin-point vibrator. It was too much, overloading his pleasure centers until he shattered. Aaron went slack in the swing, body still twitching with aftershocks, face a study of contented bliss.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He came aware slowly, his body languid in the swing.
“Back with me then?” Sir’s voice asked, heavy with amusement and lust.
He sighed, shifting in the supporting straps and making the swing sway gently.
Sir groaned, His hands tightening around the straps, controlling the swing’s movements. “Easy, boy,” he growled, “or this’ll be over before it’s even begun.”
It took a minute for his pleasure-dulled senses to realize what his Sir was saying. Sir’s hips were pressed tight against his ass, His still hard cock stretching his relaxed hole. He turned wide eyes on his Sir who smiled and rocked the swing lightly. He hissed as he realized what Sir was doing, Sir was using the sway of the swing to fuck him. He tried to affect the momentum only to find himself completely without purchase and unable to do more than twist his hips or tighten his internal muscles to add to Sir’s sensations. Sir kept His green eyes fixed on his face as He kept the rhythm slow, driving Himself deep with each new thrust.
He could feel the ache of it building but knew there was no chance he’d come again so soon. But he could give his body over to his Sir, submitting completely to his Sir’s pleasure. “Please, Sir,” he sighed, body relaxing into the restraints of the swing. “Please.”
It seemed to be the signal Sir had been waiting for. He grabbed his hips and pulled their bodies together sharply, fighting the movement of the swing for several thrusts until the momentum shifted, adjusting to the new, powerful thrusts.
He felt like he was burning from the inside out, pleasure building to nearly painful levels as he watched Sir reach for His own release. His cock twitched, trying to respond, but there was nothing left. Nothing left but the sunburst warmth of Sir’s touch, of Sir’s need. A need he was fulfilling. “Love you,” he whispered, uncertain if he wished for Sir to hear it or not.
Sir’s green eyes darkened further. “Ta mo chrio istigh ionat,” He responded, voice rough, breathing ragged. Sir slammed forward one last time, arms tightening to keep them joined as He roared His release, hips jerking, fingers leaving deep bruises behind as they clenched tight. “Aaron,” He sighed. “My sweet, sweet Aaron.” He rested His forehead on one of the straps, regaining His breath. “Mine,” He rumbled, hands soothing over sweat damp skin.
“Yours,” he answered in kind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Moving from the swing to the large bed wasn’t nearly as graceful or as romantic as either of them had hoped, but they managed (with some unintended bruises and a great deal of laughter). Patrick took his time cleaning his boy, delighting in the way Aaron relaxed under his hands. The dark of the collar against Aaron’s skin, the knowledge that this amazing man had accepted it, was a thrill all of its own. But there was more he wanted, more he hoped to ask of the man now lying heavy in his arms. But not at the moment, not when the emotions were so close to the surface, when his boy was still floating on the powerful waves of submission.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Aaron said quietly, his long fingers carding through Patrick’s graying chest hair absently. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Patrick reassured him, pressing a soft kiss to Aaron’s sweat-damp hair. “Everything’s fine.”
Aaron tilted his head back to study his too quiet Sir. “Um hum,” he replied noncommittally. “Tell me in the morning?” he pressed.
Patrick smiled. “In the morning, over breakfast,” he promised. “Now sleep, a thaisce. All is well.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Morning came all too early for Aaron. His body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding him of the delightful activities of the night before. His hand went to his new collar, fingers running over it reverently as if uncertain it was real. It was. He stretched, reaching out for Patrick, only to find the bed not only empty, but cold. He sat up carefully, body protesting slightly. He ignored the twinges and looked around the elegant suite for his Sir, who was nowhere to be seen.
Eyes narrowing, he eased from the bed, worried for Patrick even as his profiler instincts told him that they were safe here at the Leaf. “Patrick?” he called out hesitantly.
“Here, Aaron,” a voice called from behind a screen he’d not noticed before. Not bothering with clothing, he joined his Sir in what turned out to be a small kitchen complete with a charming breakfast nook that was set for two. Patrick sat at the table, coffee cup and pastry already in front of him. “Andi sent her best for us this morning, but I thought you’d do better with a bit more sleep.”
Aaron smiled and went to kneel by his Sir’s side.
Patrick stopped him with a hand on his arm. “In the chair this morning, Aaron,” Patrick said softly. “I need you here as Aaron for a moment, not as my Irish.”
Aaron was suddenly worried. Had he done something wrong last night? Had he overstepped some boundary he didn’t even know was there?
“No. No, a thaisce,” Patrick reassured, rising from his seat and pulling Aaron into his arms. “It’s nothing like that. I swear it’s not.” He kissed his pensive lover, holding him until the stiff body relaxed against him. “Ruui always said I was absolute rubbish at these things,” he admitted as he urged Aaron down into a chair. “Let me start again. Last night I promised we’d talk this morning and that’s what I intend to do, I’m just not sure exactly where to start.” He pulled his chair close to Aaron’s so he could hold the younger man’s hand.
“When Ruui and I made things official,” he began, “Ruui had to all but beat me over the head to make me realize what it was I really wanted. We had ten wonderful years before the damned cancer took him from me. His death taught me something valuable - we never know how long we have or when it might all be taken from us.” He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “And the damned pushy bastard made me promise him that I’d not waste the rest of me life grieving over him, but that I’d find a handsome, worthy young man and make that young man as happy as I’d made him.” He chuckled. “Don’t know as I did all that much to make him happy, but I promised him I’d try.”
He squeezed Aaron’s hand. “I hadn’t found anyone who lived up to my Ruui’s memory. He was one of a kind, he was. But David reminded me of something when we were planning and plotting how te get ya to agree to lettin’ me help with yer plan. He reminded me that Ruui wasn’t perfect. He could be a right pissy bastard when he wanted te be and his sulk would put Nick’s twins to shame.” He laughed. “He was human, flawed and wonderful and priceless, and I’d not have changed a second of what we shared. But… it’s hard for anyone to live up to an idolized memory,” he admitted softly.
“Until you.”
Aaron blinked at the revelation.
“Just hear me out before I lose me nerve, boy,” he pleaded. “Let your Sir make a right fool of himself before ya make up yer mind. I’ve seen ya face down yer worst demons. I’ve seen ya lead yer team with a skill that any dom would be proud of. And I’ve seen ya lost in yer passions. Ye’re amazing, boy. And I think Ruui would approve - I know I do.” He let go of Aaron’s hand and reached into his robe pocket. He took another deep breath and brought out a small, velvet box.
“I don’t know if I can make ya as happy as I apparently made Ruui,” he said with a wry smile. “But I’d like the chance te try.” He opened the box, revealing a silver key and a simple silver band set with a tasteful, square cut emerald that matched the ones on his collar. “Move in wi’ me. Love me and let me love you and that amazing little boy 24/7. Let me help take care of ya both as well as ya take care o’ me when wearing me collar - or out of it.”
He looked down at his hands, uncertain he wanted to see what was in Aaron’s eyes at that moment, worried about losing his nerve. “The apartment building is secure, in fact, we’ve got several people living here with a security clearance ya wouldn’t believe, so ya know it would be safe. It’s not directly connected to the Leaf even though a lot of the people from the Leaf live there - so it’s not like Jack would be exposed to the Lifestyle unexpectedly. Mistress and her husband live four doors down and have three kids, the middle one being right around Jack’s age and the Zakaria clan come by all the time, so he’d not lack playmates. And… well, I’d really like to have ya with me.”
Aaron had to free his hand from Patrick’s deathgrip. He then placed a warm finger against his Sir’s lips. “I work crazy hours. Jack can be a real handful, trust me. You’ve only seen him on his best behavior. I can be a real work-a-holic and sometimes I can’t shake the rough cases and the emotions come home with me. I lost Halley to this job, and I promise to try and do better, but it may take some time to break those old habits. That said, are you really sure you want to do this?”
“Positive,” Patrick answered without hesitation.
“Good,” Aaron said with a grin. “Because Jack’s been constantly asking *why* you couldn’t live with us all the time since you made me so happy.” He chuckled.
“Knew I liked that boy,” Patrick admitted with a broad smile.
Aaron laughed, then held out his left hand. He shivered as Patrick slipped the ring on him. Something seemed to ‘click’ inside as the ring settled into place, the emerald sparkling in the dim light. He looked up at Patrick and graced him with a small smile. “I love you, Liam Patrick Zakaria,” he said formally.
Patrick returned the smile. “And I, you, a thaisce. And I you.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Where thou art, that is home. - Emily Dickinson
Epilog - Four and a half months later
“DA!” Jack yelled as Patrick came through the door at Jessica’s. The little boy ran to the older man, wrapping himself around the solid form. “Why are you picking me up? I thought daddy was picking me up tonight. We’re s’pose to go costume shopping tonight.”
Patrick smiled down at the little boy. “Your daddy and everyone are running a little late so I came to pick ya up. Is that okay? I mean. I could leave ya here if ye’d rather wait,” he teased, winking at Jessica over the little boy’s head.
“Daaaaaa,” Jack scolded. “S’pose to go costume shopping,” Jack said with a pout.
“And we will,” he promised. “But, yer aunt JJ called and said the team could *really* use some little kid laughter when they got home. So, Will’s bringing Henry. I’m bringing a certain little tree frog,” he tapped Jack’s nose teasingly, making the boy giggle. “And Nick is bringing the twins.”
Jack’s wide smile got even wider. “Really?!” He stopped, his expression going serious as he seemed to ponder the situation. “Can we go costume shopping with Greg and Annie?” he asked.
“We can see.”
“And you and Aunt Penny and Uncle Sean’ll help, right. Cause you all know the coolest outfits and,” he paused, eyes glancing around furtively, “daddy’s not so good with picking costumes,” he whispered. “OH, and we have to get somethin’ for daddy’s birthday!”
He and Jessica exchanged fond smiles. “We can do that,” he promised. “Now, go get yer stuff so we can meet the team when they get in.”
Jack smiled brightly. “Yes, Sir!” he said sharply, turning and walking quickly back to get his things. As he watched the little boy go, he couldn’t help but marvel at the domesticity he’d found and how, after so long, he’d once again found home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I really hope you enjoyed this story. It wasn't an easy one, but i enjoyed writing it. Remember to go and LAVISH praise on the wonderful artists for the AMAZING art they did, and thank you for taking the time to read (and hopefully comment).
pax,
the kendermouse