Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King belong to Warner and Shoot the Moon - not me!

Translations:
Otets - Papa





The three trenchcoated figures walked in silence, weaving their way through back streets of the city. Lee and Viktor hung back; following Gurov, hoping the scheme they had gotten themselves into was not a trap. Any passerby would assume the three men were just Communist soldiers, changing shifts or going home after duty.

It seemed like they had been walking forever. Lee's thoughts kept drifting to his son, still lying unconscious on Viktor's bed. Jamie would pull through, he thought. He had too much of his mother in him not to. Amanda. God, he missed her. He knew she was probably worried sick at home, but Joe was there to take care of her, which eased Lee's thoughts a little. Philip was strong, too. Amanda's sons must be the luckiest two boys alive, to have such an incredible mother, he thought. And he was the luckiest man alive, to have won the heart of such an incredible woman. He unconsciously twisted his wedding band around on his finger as they continued to walk.

Gurov stopped them outside an abandoned building.

"Varostov will not be expecting us, at least not this soon," he whispered. "However, the man does not sleep. We will have to move quickly. Follow me and keep your hand on your gun," and he began to walk again, around to a side door.

It was dark inside the building. Gurov moved like a cat, not missing a step. They maneuvered through hallways and up several flights of stairs. Gurov stopped them in a small, carpeted corridor and drew his weapon.

"Through that door is Varostov's study. If we overtake him suddenly he will not have the opportunity to draw a weapon. We may be able to take him into authorities without firing a shot," he whispered. "Follow my lead."

Just as Gurov finished his sentence, Lee felt cold steel against his temple.

"Drop the weapon, Scarecrow," Varostov uttered, his voice like ice. "You too, Viktor. You have been busy, haven't you, my friend? I thought you might be dead, but here you are, just like a ghost."

Lee and Viktor dropped their guns onto the carpet. Varostov laughed and moved to face them.

"Scarecrow, Scarecrow. You have become weak in your old age, my friend. Coming all the way to Moscow for the boy, that was your first mistake. Falling in with Nikolai, that was your second. Even the most noble of traitors do not live long," he said and turned to Gurov. "You have betrayed Mother Russia for the last time, my dear Nikolai."

"It is not I who have betrayed Mother Russia, but you, Dmitri. You will not worm your way out of this one. If you come out of this alive, you will certainly hang for murder," Gurov said coldly.
Varostov raised his weapon and shot the tall man in the chest.

"I do believe you are mistaken, Nikolai. You are the one meant to die here today," he said. "And your friends will join you shortly." Varostov waved his weapon in the direction of his study. Lee and Viktor walked slowly, watching Gurov with sympathy. He merely nodded to them as they disappeared from his sight.

"Do take a seat, gentlemen," Varostov sneered as they entered the study. "I tire of this country, Viktor. This stupid little revolution of mine has already come apart at the seams. Men are no longer men in this country. They flee at the first sign of controversy. When I was young, men would stand and fight for what was theirs. But not anymore. Russian boys grow up to be Russian cowards, and that is the sad truth that has become this country," he continued. "But that does not matter anymore. I have my revenge, and then I die a tired old man."

"You're wrong, Varostov. You are the sad truth that makes this country what it is. This crazy plot of yours was doomed from the start. You won't escape this time, Varostov. Not this time," Viktor said coldly.

Varostov shook his head. "I will kill you first, Viktor. I still feel a little sympathy for my countrymen, and I would not want you to see your friend suffer," he said as he raised his weapon again. An anguished scream came from the hallway as he fired the shot, breaking his concentration. The bullet struck Viktor in the shoulder.

Lee immediately used his hand to put pressure on his friend's wound. Varostov went into the hallway, turning his back on Lee and Viktor.

"I am all right, Scarecrow. Take him out now, while you can," Viktor struggled to speak.

As Lee rose to tackle Varostov, another shot was fired, and Varostov slumped to the floor. Lee was running now, into the hallway, where a teenager was slumped over Gurov's now lifeless body.

The boy looked up, tears streaming down his face. Lee was startled to see the young boy in the hallway and picked a gun up off the floor. He began to ask him who he was and what he wanted in Russian, when Viktor brushed past Lee and knelt next to the boy to comfort him.

"Shh, Pyotr. Shh," Viktor hugged the boy with his uninjured arm and tried to pull him away from the body.

"Otets," the boy managed in between sobs. Lee shook his head. Gurov had not only involved himself in Varostov's madness, but had involved his son as well.

"Viktor, we need to get you to a doctor," Lee said. Viktor nodded his head.

"Let me call the authorities," he whispered, and was finally able to pull the boy away from Gurov's side. Viktor went into the study and called the police, gave the operator the address and hung up the phone. "We will need to leave now, Scarecrow. The police will be glad to see Varostov dead, but not glad to see an American in our uniform."

Lee nodded. Viktor placed a reassuring hand on Pyotr's shoulder, and the boy turned away from his father's body. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, and the innocent boy retreated back into the shell of a young Communist. The three men quickly fled the building as sirens drew nearer, and disappeared into the dark Moscow night.


Zoya sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping warm towels around the boy's feet. She sighed, wishing there was more she could do. He still had not regained consciousness, and his breathing was dreadfully slow and labored. She had knelt next to the bed and crossed herself to begin another prayer when the front door flew open and the three men entered the flat.

Her brother's shirt was stained with blood, and she panicked. He waved her away, telling her sharply it was only a flesh wound and to stay with the boy. Viktor picked up the phone and began to dial. He spoke in low tones and Pyotr sat in the corner looking on. Lee quietly withdrew from the room and made his way down the short hallway to Viktor's room.

Jamie looked so small lying in the middle of the bed. Zoya had wrapped his thin body in two blankets, trying to at least prevent his body temperature from dropping any lower. Lee knelt beside the bed and took Jamie's dirty, frail hand in his. Finally, now that Varostov was dead and his son was safe, did Lee finally let the flood of emotions rise to the surface, and the sobs shook his body for several minutes.

When he had finally gained control of himself again, he called to Viktor, who entered the room smiling. His sister had not relented, and he had let her wash the wound and bandage his shoulder. Lee smiled back at him.

"You and your son are leaving for Frankfurt in twenty minutes, Scarecrow," Viktor whispered, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come now, Zoya will drive us to the plane."


Lee hung up the pay phone and walked back to where Viktor was holding Jamie. Billy said he would call Amanda and put her on the next flight to Frankfurt. Lee sighed. He hoped Jamie could hang on until the plane reached Germany.

The small supply plane started its engine, and Viktor placed Jamie back in Lee's arms. He placed his arm around his sister, and smiled at Lee.

"I can't even begin to thank you, Viktor," Lee began.
"You don't need to thank me, Scarecrow. This just scratches the surface on things I owe you," he replied.

"So what happens now?"

"Well, things get back to normal around here, I hope. With Varostov dead, things will settle down in the Kremlin," Viktor sighed.

"What about Pyotr?"

"I will take him back to his mother in the Ukraine as soon as I can," he replied.

Lee nodded and looked down at his son. He realized how impossible it would be to intentionally put the boy's life in danger.

"Thank you, Viktor," he said again.

"You are very welcome, Scarecrow," he replied. "Now get on that plane, and don't look back. I don't want to see you in this country for a very, very long time," he smiled.

"I hope I can honor that request, Viktor," Lee smiled at his friend. He began to walk towards the plane, pausing to kiss Zoya on the cheek. "Bolshoe spasibo, Zoya," he smiled. She merely smiled in reply, and the siblings watched as Lee carried Jamie onto the plane.


It was almost four in the morning in Frankfurt when the ambulance arrived at the hospital. Lee had to stay in the waiting room as Jamie disappeared on a stretcher through double doors. He collapsed into a chair and began to pray for the first time since he could remember.


When Lee woke, he thought he was still dreaming. She was smoothing his hair back from his eyes, and gazing at him intently. He realized he was not dreaming and immediately took his wife into his arms.

"Thank God you're all right," she whispered.

"Have the doctors-" She placed a finger to his lips.

"They haven't finished yet. I filled out a lot of paperwork when I got here, and I haven't heard anything other than it was going to be a little while before we would know," she nuzzled her head against his shoulder.

"Have you seen him?" he asked.

She shook her head, seeing the pain and fear in her husband's eyes. He sighed in relief. Hopefully after he had regained consciousness, Jamie would look a little more like the son she had last seen.

They said nothing after that, but sat in the quiet waiting room, watching the city come to life as the sun rose. He hugged his wife to his body. Lee knew that they could not continue to live like this, not ever knowing if they were completely safe. Billy had been pushing him to take an administrative job, and maybe it was time to take that next step in his life. He had a family to think of now, and it had become more important to him than anything else. Lee was shaken from his thoughts as a doctor appeared in the waiting room.

"The boy will be fine," she smiled. "There were two broken ribs, but the lung was never in danger of being punctured. He has quite a bump on his head, which explains why he was unconscious for so long, but no serious head injury to speak of. The arm around the, ah, tattoo is clean, there is no infection, which is lucky. However," she continued, "the hypothermia was serious. We had to amputate the small toe on his left foot, and the two smallest toes on his right. We're treating him with warm saline through IV, and waiting for his body temperature to come up. But he's going to be fine," she finished. "You can go in and see him if you like. He's asleep now, I believe."

Amanda had squeezed his hand when the doctor mentioned the amputation, but she was crying tears of joy that her son was alive. Lee hugged her to him again, breathing a sigh of relief. He helped her up, and they walked hand in hand down the hallway to see their son.

Color was finally starting to come back to the boy's cheeks, and the swelling around his eye had gone down. Amanda let out a relieved sob and knelt beside the bed, taking Jamie's hand in hers. Lee sat down in a chair, watching the reunion. He hadn't felt this content since the day he and Amanda eloped. Amanda moved gently, and didn't wake her sleeping son. After a few minutes of just watching him sleep, she rose and sat in Lee's lap.

"Thank you for bringing our son back," she whispered.

"I love you," he replied.

"I love you," she smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder.




"Mom?" a tiny voice asked.

Amanda woke from her light sleep to see her son looking around the room inquisitively. The tears of joy began to fall again as she stood up and crossed the room to her son's side.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here," she smiled, taking his hand again.

"Mom, he came and got me. I knew he would. I told the man but he didn't believe. But he came and got me," Jamie mumbled, under the influence of pain medication. Amanda smiled down at her son.

"I know he did, sweetheart. Lee came for you. And pretty soon we're gonna take you home," she whispered, as Jamie drifted back to sleep.






As the cab pulled up to 4247 Maplewood, Jamie looked over at his mother. She patted his leg and smiled as the car stopped.
"Come on, sweetheart. Everyone is waiting for you," she said. Lee helped Jamie out of the car and onto his crutches. Jamie smiled up at Lee with the look that only hero worship could produce. It was hard for the boy to imagine that there had been such distinct boundaries on their relationship only a week prior. This man had saved his life, and countless others. He situated himself on the crutches, and the three slowly made their way up the front walk.

The house was unusually quiet when Amanda opened the front door. Lee helped Jamie make his way down the steps into the living room, where he was greeted with a "SURPRISE!" He beamed as he looked around the room. There was Philip, Captain Curt, and his grandmother, all gathered around a birthday cake.

His grandmother hugged him, crying tears of joy. Jamie felt a rush of relief as his grandmother wrapped her arms around him. The feelings hadn't changed since he had been gone. His family still loved him, just as they had shown him before he was taken away from them so suddenly.

Lee looked on as the reunion continued. Philip threw all caution to the wind and began to cry as he hugged his baby brother to his chest. He kissed the top of Jamie's head.

"Nice haircut, bro," he smiled through the tears of joy.

"Wait 'til you see the tattoo, Philip," Jamie laughed. Philip obviously thought his little brother was kidding and backed away.

"Well, go ahead, Jamie. Make a wish and blow the candles out," Amanda smiled.

Jamie glanced over at Lee, who watched the boy intently. He then looked back at his mother, took a deep breath, and blew out his candles.





**Christmas Eve, the same year**

Jamie sat at the organ at the front of the small church. It had been hard for him to remember seeing anything more beautiful than the scene that lay in front of him. The sanctuary was lit only by candles, which cast shadows onto the ceiling of the room. He looked out into the pews, recognizing almost all the faces. There was his grandmother and Captain Curt, Summer, and other family friends and relatives, among them Aunt Lillian, who was already bawling. He focused his sight closer, to the men standing at the altar. There was Lee and Philip, both beaming and anxiously watching the back of the room.

Jamie smiled and fought back the tears of joy building in his eyes. He looked out the window and noticed the first snowflakes beginning to fall to the ground. It was Christmas for certain; a time for family, giving, and most of all, a time for love.

The doors at the back of the sanctuary opened, and the people seated in the pews rose to their feet. Jamie began to play the bridal processional as his mother walked down the aisle, on Mr. Melrose's arm. She was perfect. Her eyes looked straight at Lee, almost as if she didn't realize there was anyone else in the room. Jamie's chest swelled with pride as Lee took his mother's hand and helped her onto the altar. He played the last chord, stood up, and joined Philip and Billy next to Lee.

He couldn't have asked for a better Christmas present. His mother was marrying her true love; and this time in front of everyone that mattered in her life. His family was closer than ever after all the events that had transpired around his birthday, and now he had a little brother or sister on the way. The tears of joy finally began to fall from his eyes as the minister uttered the words 'You may kiss the bride, again.' Jamie thought he would burst from the feelings of pride and love that had filled his entire being. At that moment he realized his game of life needed no boundaries, and seated himself again at the organ to play the recessional.

~*~Fine~*~