Epilogue

"Hi, Joss," John said softly as he closed the door behind him. "Waiting up for me?"

Joss stirred on the couch, where she'd been lying, almost asleep. "Jacy was. She kept fussing and wouldn't go to sleep." Then she stared down at the bundle in her arms. "Huh. She stopped fussing as soon as she heard your car in the driveway."

John shrugged off his coat and crossed the living room in two quick strides, reaching down and scooping the little blanket-wrapped bundle, cradling it in his arms. "I'm home now, you can stop worrying," he told the pair of big blue eyes in the blanket.

Those big blue eyes stared at him solemnly for a moment. Then blinked. A little hiccup came out of the tiny rosebud mouth, followed by a yawn—and then Jacy closed her eyes and went straight to sleep.

Joss shook her head. "Had to wait up for her Dad, I guess," she shook her head grinning slightly. "Hey Taylor's home, he's in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Chili, just like you make it. I swear he learned how to cook from you."

John grinned as he headed for the kitchen. To anyone else, he supposed this little house he'd put a down payment on with the back-owed pay from the US Army might seem claustrophobic, but to him it was perfect; cozy, everything close, and with an extra bedroom for Taylor when he came home from college.

"Hey Dad," Taylor greeted him with a grin as he walked into the kitchen. "I was passing through Chinatown on my way here from Rochester and saw fresh Thai peppers, so I figured I'd make you and Mom some chili."

John shifted his little bundle of now-sleeping baby to one arm, grabbed a wooden spoon, tasted the sauce. "Just like I make it. So I did manage to teach you something after all."

Taylor grinned. "Yep." He reached into his back pocket, grabbed his wallet. "You taught me something else too."

"What?" John asked absently—he was too busy helping himself to a big spoonful of chili right from the pot to pay much attention to anything else.

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission."

He stared at the drivers' license Taylor held in front of him, so new he'd swear it hadn't even cooled from the laminating machine yet. "Taylor Thompson-Davis," he read disbelievingly. "Taylor…"

"I don't want 'Carter.' I don't want anything from Paul. He never was my Dad, and he never will mean as much to me as you and Mom and Jacy do." Taylor grinned at John. "So when I heard you were taking Mom's name, I decided to do the same as soon as I was legally able to. It took a bit longer than I expected to get all the paperwork done, and I'm still not sure what Mom's gonna say so I haven't told her yet, but Mr. Harold helped me fill it all out and mail it in, and it was finalized a week ago. Mr. Harold went with me this afternoon to get the new driver's license."

"Harold…"

Taylor didn't notice John's hesitation. "He and I have been emailing back and forth while I've been in school. He sends me computer programs and I code them, and then he pays me, so that's been helping with my school expenses." He turned to face John, and John was struck all over again by how grown-up this young man seemed. "I decided that I want to major in coding and software programming. It's not as expensive as cybersecurity degree, but it uses the same skills and has a lot more applications, including gaming if I decide I want to make that my hobby. Mr. Harold said he wants to see what my grades look like this spring, and if my freshman year grades in college are good enough, even with my playing basketball for the RIT team, he'll talk to Mom this summer about taking over my tuition and college expenses provided I go to work for him after I graduate."

John understood several things in that moment. Harold hadn't just been giving Taylor computer programming puzzles to keep Taylor occupied and give him a chance to earn some money, he'd been quietly grooming Taylor to take over for him. Hadn't Harold mentioned something about 'contingencies' once? The other thing that hit him was that Joss knew…she'd known about this since that first narrow-eyed assessment of Harold in the gym nearly two years ago. "Mom won't say no," he told Taylor with certainty. "I'll talk to her too."

The sound of the doorbell ringing echoed through the house, and John and Taylor both hurried out of the kitchen, intent on answering the door before it woke Joss, dozing on the couch. But as they walked into the living room, they both saw they didn't have to bother—the door was open, Joss had opened it, and standing out on the step was…

…Paul Carter.

But he didn't show any of the hostility or belligerence that John had last seen in his attitude. His manner was…conciliatory? "Hi Joss," he was saying as both John and Taylor came to a stop in the middle of the living room. "I heard you had a daughter—I brought over some things for the baby. Just as a gift." He hesitated, then said, tentatively, quietly, and with more genuine humility in his voice than John had ever seen in him, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for having been such an asshole."

Paul Carter admitting he was an asshole? Had the moon turned blue?

And Taylor stepped forward, to stand beside Joss at the door, and Paul Carter looked at the boy who carried half his DNA but whom he'd never gotten to know, or even tried to know. "Taylor…I heard. I was working at the DMV this afternoon when you came in, and I saw. I'm not angry…I realize now I was never the father you needed—I never could be what you and Joss both needed. I'm…I'm glad you both are…are happy." And then he saw the little bundle in John's arms, and he smiled crookedly. "Congratulations. You're going to be a much better father than I ever was." And then he turned and was gone.

Joss stood there for a full minute, staring at the empty doorstep, then a gust of cold December air blew her t-shirt—John's t-shirt—against her body and she closed the door quickly. "Taylor, what did he mean?" she demanded of her son as she locked the door.

Taylor squared his shoulders as he dug his driver's license out of his pocket. "I went with Mr. Harold to the DMV today and had my license redone with the new name I picked."

"You changed your name?" Taylor…" Joss stopped as she looked down at the little square of plastic, then her eyes misted over. "Oh, Taylor."

"He's not my Dad, Mom. Never will be. John's more my Dad than Paul is. So I made it legal. And now I have the same last name as my little sister."

"I…don't know what to say…" Joss stared at the card for a moment longer, then handed it back to Taylor. "Taylor…while I don't know if I really approve of what you've done…I respect that you have your reasons for doing it. And…I'm proud of you."

The driver's license disappeared into Taylor's back pocket as he bounced forward to hug Joss, suddenly full of youthful eagerness. "Thanks Mom." The he reached out and swept the blanket-wrapped bundle from John. "Okay. I'm gonna tuck my little sister into her crib and then we'll have dinner."

Alone in the living room, John drew Joss to him in a gentle hug. "Thanks, Joss."

"I get the feeling I have to thank Harold for that."

"According to Taylor, he helped, but you're one of the few women I know who would have understood why he'd want to do that."

"Yeah." Joss looked him in the eye, smiling. "Did it occur to you that you'd just become a Dad to a nineteen-year-old boy?"

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I didn't 'just' become his Dad, Joss. I've been his father for a while now, I just never admitted it to myself. He just…made it official."

"And you now have a full family all your own. Are you sure you're ready for this challenge, Mr. Reese?"

He grinned at her as he dropped a kiss on her nose. "Ready or not, here it comes."

Author's Note:

Okay, finally, after all the stops and starts and side trips, this novel wraps up! My sincerest apologies to everyone who has been waiting so patiently for updates—and my sincerest thanks to everyone who has stuck with me while we went on this epic journey from 'Catalyst' through 'Redemption'. Anyone who wants to read both novels, in their entirety, in a word document, please feel free to email me at jaenelleangelline79 .

I have a LOT going on in my life right now—running for City Council as well as a couple of corollary campaigns, from fighting an incinerator to advocating for a solar farm to trying to change the State's mind about redesigning our local mass transit system, that I really haven't had the time to write as regularly or as often as I really should have—and with the holidays over and only 10 months until the elections, I really have to kick my campaign into gear. I can't promise when I'll post again, or how often, but there are more stories rattling around up there. The next one will be another POI/G.I. Joe crossover, though rather more of a spinoff because it'll focus on how Sam met the Guardians. There's a little teaser below; enjoy, and keep an eye out for it, I'll post chapters when I can!

G.I. Joe: Second Generation

"Cameron Arlington?" the woman asked now, and Aunt Cam responded 'yes' without once looking at the woman. "I'm Paige Mahoney, Child Protective services for Westchester County New York."

"Child Protective services?" Cam looked at the woman for the first time, fully, taking in her clothing and manner.

"Yes. Child Protective Services. I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind…you and your husband."

Cam snapped out of her daze. "Um…yes, of course." She turned to the twins. "Go on up to your rooms, we'll finish this up in a little bit." Without looking behind her to see if the twins were obeying her, she and Charlie led the way into the house.

Of course they didn't go to their rooms. Erin had no intention of missing any of this, and neither was Evan. They went only as far as the top of the stairs, where they could hear what was going on in the living room but not be seen, and there they stopped, sat on the steps and eavesdropped shamelessly.

"I'll get right to the point, Ms. Arlington. This is your biological son Brian Farr Jr., who I understand you know about but until now haven't been a part of his life. Unfortunately, at the moment his mother is in a coma, and his father is in jail for committing the assault that put his mother there, and there was no other family he could go to. The State of New York found records of a trial in which you were found to be his mother—"

"Yes, I'm his biological mother. Lynne Farr is his real mother. Let's skip the hunt and tree the prey, Ms. Mahoney. Are you looking for somewhere for him to go?"

The woman looked relieved that Cam had managed to figure that much out. "Yes, we are. Although Junior just turned seventeen, and insists that he is perfectly capable of fending for himself on his own, state law dictates that he is still a minor and someone must be responsible for his care until such time as he either turns 18, his mother comes out of her coma and is able to care for him, or his father goes to trial and he is cleared of the charges levied against him."

"Of course he can stay here." Cam's response was direct and immediate.

"I realize you have other children—"

"They aren't mine," Cam said quickly, and on the steps, Evan and Erin rolled their eyes at each other. It should have been obvious to anyone with eyes that they weren't Cam and Charlie's kids, they didn't look anything like Cam and Charlie! "They're children of an old Army buddy of mine, they come every summer as a sort of camp."

"So there will be no problem with Junior staying here? Do you have adequate space for him…" the woman trailed off as Cam nodded vigorously.

"My husband and I have a small suite downstairs here. There are four bedrooms upstairs ready for the kids of some of my old Army friends who come here each summer. He can certainly have one of those rooms."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to see the room where he will be staying, so I can verify it is suitable…" And on hearing that, Evan and Erin got up off the step they were sitting on, scampered the rest of the way up the stairs and scurried into Evan's room, closing the door quickly as the group of adults, with Brian trailing along behind, came up the stairs and down the hallway. Erin knew which room the new boy was going to be given, and she wasn't wrong; Aunt Cam led them down to the end of the hall, to the big corner room that was supposed to be shared between Sharon and Riss, and opened the door.

Having just aired the room out the day before, when they arrived, Erin knew what the social worker would see; white walls, beige curtains with cheerful white daisies printed on them; matching bedspread, bedskirt and pillowcases; crisp, clean white sheets; plenty of light coming in from the two windows, and a maple dresser next to an ample closet.

"So what do you think?" Cam's voice. Obviously not to the social worker.

"You're not my Mom, so don't pretend like you are," came the boy—Junior's voice. Young, uncertain, hostile; he really didn't want to be here.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm your mother. I don't even know who you are. I'm simply asking if you like the room, or if you want to try the one across the hall. The other two are smaller, and have already been assigned to Evan and Erin, the twins you saw when you and Ms. Mahoney drove up."

"I don't care," Junior said sullenly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, it's just this stupid old bat here that decided I can't. I'm not going to be here long, Mom will wake up soon and I'll go back to living with her."

"Then we'll look forward to that day. However, you need a bedroom until that happens. Are you all right with this one or do you want to see the other one?" There was no change in Aunt Cam's tone, Erin noted; no impatience or condescension. If that were me I'd have snapped at him by now, Erin thought.

Junior sighed. "This is fine, okay? Now go talk to the social worker about how bad my parents are and let me unpack."

"He has a suitcase in the trunk of my car," Ms. Mahoney said quickly.

Cam spoke to Junior. "Will you be all right with getting that suitcase out of Ms. Mahoney's car, or should I have Charlie help you?"

Another sigh from Junior, and Erin was positive he'd just rolled his eyes—something Aunt Cam hated. "I'm fine, will you stop hovering?" he snapped. "Go have your stupid pow-wow."

Erin wanted to smack him for that.

Aunt Cam, however, didn't react. "I'll let you get on with the unpacking, then. And I expect that Evan and Erin O'Hara are listening in as we speak and they'll be along shortly to introduce themselves. I'll let the three of you get acquainted." Moments later, the twins heard Aunt Cam going back down the hall, with the social worker following. The door to Junior's room closed right behind them.

"We should go introduce ourselves," Evan hissed, but a minute later they both heard the lock on the door snick into place, and she decided not to knock. "Come on, let's go sit on the steps and listen. I wanna know how he got here," Evan said, and Erin accompanied him to the top of the stairs where they'd been sitting and listening before.

"…I always tried to console myself with the thought that he was living a better life, with more advantages than what I would ever be able to give him," Cam was saying as the twins resumed their spot at their 'listening post'.

"Well, he had a nice house, and his parents had a lot of money, but his home wasn't very happy. He had a dog, a puppy, when he was younger—a report was made to the police that his dog was found dead in a neighborhood park one morning with a broken neck. No one was ever officially charged with animal cruelty in the dog's death, but there were neighbors who told police they were positive Senior did it. Also, Westchester police were called out to their residence numerous times on domestic disturbance calls, and Lynne did spend a couple nights in a women's shelter once. None of Junior's teachers ever noticed any marks on him, but his mother missed lots of days at work, and the doctors at the hospital monitoring her coma said there are a lot of old fractures in her bones, her arms, torn muscles, bruises.

"Two days before the car accident she had gone to see a divorce lawyer and filed papers. A friend of hers in the city, a woman named Sameen Shaw, had offered her the use of a small apartment as a refuge from Senior, and she took Junior there and left him there while she went back to the house to get the last of their things. Initial police report said that her car ran off the road in a blinding rainstorm and smashed nose-first into a small rain-flooded ravine, and she was unable to get out of the car in time and drowned.

"It was only later when they pulled the car out of the creek and had a chance to examine it that they determined someone had been in the driver's seat, and Lynne Farr had been bound prior to the accident. The driver of the car strangled her into unconsciousness, then untied her wrists and ankles and buckled her into the drivers' seat, then crashed the car into the river. They found when they did the autopsy that she couldn't have drowned—there was no water in her nasal passages and lungs. But there were bruises around her throat—and on the 'ring finger' bruise there was patterning that matched the heavy gold class ring Brian Senior was known to wear. He was arrested for her attempted murder, but the damage was done; Lynn Farr is on life support in a persistent vegetative state because her brain was deprived of oxygen for too long, and it doesn't look like she's ever going to recover. If she dies before he goes to trial, the prosecutor will tack on murder charges."

"What are his chances of acquittal?"

The social worker hesitated, then shook her head. "Slim to none. The ring he wears was tested and found to be an exact match for the bruise pattern pressed into her neck; he was known to be violent and beat her up; she visited a divorce lawyer two days before the 'accident' and everyone who knew them said that Brian Senior was controlling and possessive and their home was anything but happy. There was even a story from a former employer that Brian brought Lynne to a company function one evening and got upset when he saw her talking to one of his coworkers. He flew into a jealous rage and hit her there in front of everyone at the party. His boss stepped in and kept him from hitting her again and they left the party right there. He was fired the next day."

"Do we know if Junior saw any of that?" Cam's voice was soft with anguish.

"He refuses to talk. He's refused to say anything about what went on at home, and refuses to talk about what happened the evening of the accident. According to him, he stayed at the apartment until the cops showed up to give him the news, but we've had testimony from one of the neighbors that they saw Junior that night, going to their house—and the same neighbor says he saw Junior running away from the house an hour later. The prosecutor and the cops suspect that he went to the house looking for his mother, didn't find her, and had some kind of altercation with his father, but he has refused to speak. Maybe it's for the better, though—if he confirmed for us that he was at the house that night, he might be called to testify, and that could be traumatic."

"You'd be asking him to testify against his father for his mother. That would be hard for any child." Charlie's voice was also quiet.

"So what you're saying is that Junior may not be here simply temporarily, he could be here until he turns eighteen or chooses to move out," Cam said quietly. "From what you said, it doesn't sound like Lynne will ever wake up—and from what Junior said, it sounds like he's in denial about the whole thing and doesn't want to face that truth."

"You're right, and he doesn't." Silence for a short time, and then Ms. Mahoney sighed. "All right, so you're okay with him staying here?"

"I am. He has a home with me for as long as he needs it or wants it."