"But why is there another one?" Professor Charles asked, his eyes scanning the remainder of the jars within the coffin, his assumption leading to all of the jars before him being filled with the same parchment he'd been studying for the past few days.

"Beats me," Whit said, bringing Charles back to the present predicament. He hadn't found what he'd wanted but there were four men in the cave who he didn't require to have around anymore. His mind quickly re-assessed his situation and he made a decision on what should be done.

"Well," he said, "it doesn't matter. Whatever they are, I'm certain they'll be worth a lot of money. Now step back everyone. Step back!" Everyone did as Charles instructed; everyone except for that pesky Jason. He maintained his position, keeping his eyes locked with Charles'. Charles allowed a sneer to play across his features as he gave his command that would ensure the young Whittaker would never look at him again.

"Benjamin, you know what to do." Benjamin nodded and aimed his gun at Alfred, the barrel parallel to Alfred's head. Alfred held up his arms, his face draining of color.

"N-Now Charles," Alfred stuttered, smiling nervously, "you don't REALLY mean to kill me, do you? I mean, I-I helped you get here."

"Yes, and I'm most grateful," Charles said without looking at Alfred. His eyes were being held hostage by Jason's calmly angry gaze. Neither seemed able to look away let alone move.

"Benjamin," Charles ordered.

That one word ended it all. Benjamin fired the gun and Alfred collapsed the bullet now a bloody hole in his forehead.

"Oh my goodness!" Eugene yelped, jumping behind Whit.

"Charles, I never took you as a murderer," Whit said, his tone laced with anger and disappointment.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Whit. Benjamin, pick up the pace."

Benjamin took a step toward Whit and aimed his gun once more. Eugene whimpered incoherently but Whit didn't flinch. A voice soon broke Benjamin's concentration.

"Oh come on, Benjamin. Do you really think the dear old professor here will reward you with anything but a knife in your back?" The voice belonged to Jason who finally had taken his eyes from Charles' and now had them aimed at the young Middle Eastern man. Benjamin shifted his own gaze to Charles, doubt creeping in.

Charles whirled to face Benjamin, saying, "Don't listen to him. Remember what I told you? We're in this together."

"Right. I'm sure he said the same thing to Alfred," Jason said, pointing their only light source to the dead man. "And look where that got him." Benjamin's face held pure terror now as his eyes shifted rapidly from Alfred to Charles and back again. Charles climbed up out of the hole they'd dug and stepped up to Benjamin, placing a hand on his arm to steady him. Benjamin was instantly calmed, his gaze certain as he faced Whit once more, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Sure Benjamin, go ahead. Kill us. You'll only be charged with murder later."

"That's enough, Jason," Whit said, his tone full of warning. He saw how Jason's words were affecting Benjamin and he didn't like the distrust and uncertainty he saw in the young man before him.

"I'm just telling the truth, Dad. I mean, why wouldn't the professor do the killings himself? Because he knows that he could be charged for it later when this all comes to light."

"Stop your words!" Benjamin shouted, turning his gun to Jason and cocking it. Eugene whimpered again, his head poking out from behind Whit's back as Whit faced his son as well. What was the boy doing?

"I quite agree with your father, Jason. That's enough," Charles growled.

"Oh, no. It isn't," Jason said, smiling slightly. Then he flung the flashlight directly at Charles' head before anyone realized what he had done. Charles dodged it with a roar of rage and the flashlight broke as it made contact with the ground, sending the cave into complete darkness. The gun sounded with a loud BANG.

It took Whit a moment to realize that he was lying on top of someone. He attempted to recall what he'd done prior to the gunshot; it had all happened so fast. But he remembered shoving Eugene to the cave floor once he saw the flashlight sailing through the air. Then he'd gone for Benjamin, tackling him to the ground. But was that before or after the gunshot? Whit couldn't be sure. He couldn't see anything.

A voice from behind him stammered, "M-Mr. Whit-Whittaker?"

"I'm here, Eugene. Are you all right?"

"I believe so. Where are you? I'm afraid I can see absolutely nothing in this darkness."

"In front of you. I'm on top of Benjamin." Whit maneuvered his arm from under the Middle Easterner and checked pulse. "He's still alive; must've hit his head on the impact. He'll come around eventually." Whit sat up slowly, checking himself for injuries as he did so. He was fine and so was Eugene. So where had that bullet gone?

"Eugene, did you see what happened to Charles?"

"I'm afraid I only witnessed the professor falling backwards into the chasm containing all of the pots. I'm unsure beyond that point."

"Charles?" Whit called out, waiting for a response. When no answer arrived, Eugene attempted to call the professor.

"Professor Charles? Are you all right? Can you hear us?" Nothing. If he'd fallen before the gun had gone off though, that only left…

"Jason. What about Jason, Eugene?"

"I-I don't know, Mr. Whittaker." Both sat in silence for several moments, each imagining multiple ways in which Jason had either evaded or come in contact with the bullet.

"Jason?" Whit called out.

"Jason!" Eugene joined in.

"Jason, where are you?" When no answer came, Whit stood up, his heart pounding. If anything had happened to Jason…

"Here, Mr. Whittaker, I believe I have some matches."

"You know, I think I have some too." How could he not have remembered that sooner? Come on, he told himself. Get it together. After fumbling around in all of his pockets, Whit's fingers came in contact with his matches and he pulled them out as Eugene lit one of his own next to Whit. One of Whit's matches sparkled to life soon after and the two of them extended their arms out to take in their surroundings.

Whit's eyes had just fallen on the collapsed form of his son lying on his stomach across the way when Eugene tugged at his sleeve.

"Mr. Whittaker, I've found Professor Charles." Whit's eyes followed Eugene's match and came to rest on the professor lying face down on the top of the jars, one particularly large porcelain piece sticking out from his back, permanently stained red. Eugene hurriedly lit another match as his first burnt out.

"I suppose we'll not need to worry about him," he murmured.

"No," Whit agreed, sending a brief prayer of hope that Charles had accepted Christ before he'd gone. Whit then made his way over to his son, his mind racing as he noticed that Jason had not moved since Whit had seen him.

Whit heard Eugene's, "Oh my. Jason," as he kneeled next to Jason and ignored Eugene's statement. He lit another match and felt for Jason's pulse. Whit then sat back on his knees with a silent prayer of thanks.

"He's alive," he called to Eugene. As his eyes returned to his son, Whit noticed a small device buried in the sand next to Jason's arm. He reached out and picked it up, observing it in the dim light of his match.

"A tracking device. Eugene, Jason had a tracking device on him."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'm not sure but it looks like the ones the Agency uses. It's broken, though. Jason must've fallen on it." Whit turned to face Eugene. "Can you go out and see if people from the Agency are there? They would probably be near the cave entrance."

"Of course," Eugene murmured, lighting another match and turning around to go back the way they'd come in.

Once Eugene was out of his range of vision, Whit lit another match and turned back to Jason. He pushed the hair out of his son's eyes and gently called his name. Jason moaned but didn't open his eyes. Whit shifted position, circling to the other side of his son and pulling him into his lap. That's when his heart stopped. There was an angry dark red spot on Jason's shirt, right where his stomach was located.

So, Whit thought, that's where the bullet went. His voice full of anxiety, Whit called to his son again.

"Jason. Jason, come on. Stay with me now. Jason." The last time Whit called to him, Jason opened his eyes and smiled weakly at his father. Whit quickly lit another match as he cradled Jason in one of his arms.

"Hey, Dad," Jason said.

"Hey, Jason. How do you feel?" Jason attempted to change his position but his face screwed up in pain when he moved, Whit tightening his grip on the boy. Jason released his breath as he settled into his father's hold.

"Well, I've been better." Jason gave his father another smile but Whit caught the pain that lurked behind Jason's eyes. Whit's stomach turned in summersaults, desperately wishing he and Jason could trade places.

Not able to think of anything else to say, Whit asked weakly, "Have you been shot before?" He didn't want to hear the answer; his mind couldn't digest the fact that his son was shot right now.

"Yeah, but it's been in other locations. My shoulder once, my leg another. I guess I was just waiting for the day when I'd get shot in the stomach." Whit searched his son's eyes as he asked his next question.

"Has it ever been this bad?" Jason considered lying for a moment, to see the relief flood into his father's gaze and put the older man at ease. But Jason had never been very good at lying to those whom he loved; his father was no exception.

"No," he answered quietly. Whit nodded, blinking back tears and taking in a deep breath to calm himself. Falling apart wouldn't help anyone in this situation. Jason needed someone strong to hang on to at this point.

"Why did you do it, Jason?" Whit asked before he could stop himself. "That bullet was meant for me. Why didn't you just let that happen?" Jason chuckled weakly but soon stopped due to the coughing fit it sent him in. Whit lit another match and observed his son's face. It was pale. Whit's heart raced.

Please God, don't let him die, he prayed.

"Oh, Dad," Jason said, causing Whit to tremble in fear; his voice was so much weaker already. "I couldn't let you die." Jason's words nearly caused Whit to break down completely; as it was, he only allowed his tears to silently fall as he ran his thumb along Jason's cheek. Jason turned into the contact, the small smile on his lips causing Whit's tears to increase; the boy craved affection. If only they'd had more time…

Jason's eyes met Whit's and the world simply ceased to exist. Jason licked his lips and opened his mouth…

"I love you too much," was all he said before he fell limp in Whit's arms. At that moment, the match went out but all of Whit's thoughts centered on Jason. His boy. His son.

Dropping the useless match as he felt his heart break, Whit cried out, "Jason. No. Jason!" He crushed his son to his chest, his hand plowing through Jason's hair to cradle his head. Whit allowed himself to drop his façade of strength and his tears streamed down his face as he sat holding his son in his strong embrace.

"Jason, please," Whit sobbed, rubbing Jason's head affectionately. "I love you." And John Avery Whittaker did the only thing he could do; he prayed.

"Dear Lord, please don't take Jason from me. Please; he's all I've got now. You have Jenny and Jerry and I know they're safe with you but spare my boy. I need him so much, Lord. Please leave him here. Please – " Whit's voice broke and he sat sobbing on the cave floor with his boy in his arms.

His boy. His son. His Jason.

Please, God.

Two Months Later

Whit stood in the Middle Eastern airport and quickly glanced around the terminal where he and Eugene stood. No one from the agency stood around with mics in their ears, and no one was trailing them. Life was almost returning to normal. Almost.

Whit glanced behind him to see Jason, one bag slung over his shoulder and the other in his right hand, searching the surrounding crowd for a familiar face. He was as successful as his father, his eyes showing relief but also a twinge of sadness. Whit knew how much Jason loved the world of spies. No matter what Jason said to anyone else, Whit knew he'd always miss it.

As an announcement for the flight to New York was announced over the intercom, Jason crossed to his father and Eugene, placing his bag on the ground and turning to face them.

"Well, I guess that's my flight." He pointed up to the monitor displaying arrivals and take-offs of planes at the airport.

"I wish you'd reconsider, Jason," Whit told him. "Why don't you stay here for a few more days?"

"I'd like to, Dad, but I really should get back. You and Eugene have a lot to catch up on. Go have some fun." Whit and Eugene caught each other's eye and smiled. It was true that the two of them hadn't really had the opportunity to talk about Eugene's new found faith or much of anything really since all of their time over the past two months had been with Jason at the hospital. Between Jason's recovery and his physical therapy, Whit and Eugene had only had time for the necessities of life and keeping Jason company.

"I appreciate your sentiment, Jason," Eugene added, his gaze transferring back to the younger version of Whit. "However, it would be far more enjoyable if you stayed."

"No thanks. I wanna get back to Odyssey for some peace and quiet." Jason glanced behind him only to turn back. Whit knew it wasn't worry over missing his flight. It was nerves over not saying good-bye.

"Jason," Whit said, "I'd feel a lot better if you and Tasha had talked things out more before you go."

Jason smiled at his father as he responded, "We did all the talking we needed to, Dad. There's no point in deceiving ourselves anymore about his particular truth. We get enough of that everywhere else." Jason looked behind him again and sighed when he saw that his fiancé wasn't coming."Well, I'd better go."

Whit sighed sadly as he allowed his gaze to rest on his son's exuberant face. "OK, Son." Whit stepped forward and enfolded Jason into his embrace. "I love you." It seemed amazing to Whit that not eight weeks ago, Jason was fighting for his life and Whit sat beside him, praying the entire time. Sometimes God amazed Whit and now was no exception as he felt his son's strong muscles tense beneath his hold.

Jason wrapped his arms around his father and buried his head in his shoulder. "I love you too." With that tone in his voice, Whit could almost see his grown son as a small boy again, bouncing off the walls with his vivacity for life… But those years were passed. A man stood in front of him now; a man he was proud to call his own.

The two of them separated, Whit raising his hand to caress Jason's face one last time and Jason smiled up at him. Bending down to pick up his bag, Jason said, "Well, see you in Odyssey in a couple of weeks, Eugene."

"Yes sir. And thanks for the time off." Eugene held out his hand and Jason took it with a laugh.

"My pleasure." Jason turned away from the two of them and took several steps in the direction of his gate only to turn around and walk back.

"Hey, Dad?" His father looked at him expectantly.

"Yes?"

"I know everybody's gonna ask, so just give me a clue. When are we going to see you in Odyssey again?" Whit smiled.

"Oh, you'll never know when I'll turn up. You'll never know." With a final smile and wave, Jason turned and walked away.

Whit smiled sadly as he watched his son's retreating back until he couldn't distinguish his from everyone else's anymore. He would miss Jason more than he would let on, but he was confident that he would soon see him again. Odyssey had started calling Whit back.

"Shall we go, Mr. Whittaker?" Eugene asked, turning to walk the opposite way of where Jason had gone.

"Yes, of course." The two walked together and as Eugene started talking of what he thought Connie had done to Whit's End while they had been away and what Jason would find when he got back, Whit sent another prayer up to God.

Thank you for my son, Lord. Please, God, could you bring us back together soon? Amen.

Bold stands for actual dialogue from the episode "The Search for Whit"