Nick couldn't have been more grateful for the Boones' hospitality. They'd given him a room to himself, which wasn't a mean feat considering that they had five kids. Sammy was more than happy to stay in Noah's room. Eventually, that would become an issue for the families. Hopefully they'd be able to solve it with education and caution, but Nick had been a teenager once himself.

He'd be supportive, no matter what. And he had faith that the Boones, too, would support Noah.

Right now, it was good that they all just had a place to land. Tony had called while Nick was still crying in the bathroom. "You don't need to stay cooped up in that house. Come here, we'll get Sammy enrolled in school here in Virginia Beach, and everything's going to be fine."

Nick wasn't so sure. He couldn't just assume that they were going to stay in Virginia Beach, not with the way this whole "investigation" was so up in the air. He didn't have much choice, though. He needed to stay in the area, because of the stupid witch hunt and because this was where Tom was. And he couldn't very well homeschool Sammy. He couldn't afford it.

Packing gave him something to do. They didn't have a lot of stuff. They'd gotten used to traveling light back in the days when Nick had to carry everything they owned, and Sammy, on his back. It didn't take long for Nick and Sammy to pack up their clothes and a few personal items. The house wasn't going anywhere. They could always come back and get anything they left behind.

Then they headed over to the Boones' and settled in. Tony helped Nick unpack, while letting Noah help Sammy. "Luke is stuck on base. Apparently Baudin admitted to setting the whole thing up."

Nick scratched his head. "He admitted it? In front of people?"

"Yeah. The guy's got to have some seriously delusional issues going on, right? I mean if he thinks he can get away with that crap, he's got to have some serious issues with reality.” Tony shook his head, like he was shaking an Etch-A-Sketch, and went back to putting clothes in the drawer. "Listen. Did they really just decide Sammy had to be the aggressor because he was an alpha?"

"Yep.” Nick shuddered at the memory. "It wasn't anything I'd ever heard of before. I mean who does that, really? It's the twenty-first century, not the first.” He rubbed at his hands. "I can't remember the last time I was that angry. Or that helpless. At least when Baudin was turning my face into mulch, there was something I could do. I could block my face. I could try to shield the baby. I could try to get to my phone."

"With this, there wasn't anything.” Tony bowed his head. Then he picked it back up. "But hey—you did something, didn't you? I mean you called the lawyer and got her on the case."

Nick sat down on the bed. "For all the good it did, right? I mean Baudin still won. Tom's parents still won. We're still apart."

"For now.” Tony put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go get dinner started. Luke's likely to be in an awful mood when he gets home, not that I blame him. I want to try to make things a little less hectic for him."

As it turned out, Luke was only in a slightly awful mood when he got home. Tony knew his husband best, and knew what to expect, but evidently Luke was on his best behavior or something. "I've got a message for you," Luke told Nick, before they set dinner out and called the kids down for their meal. "Tom's pissed as hell at the separation, but he's not mad at you. He's going to do everything he can to fight, just like he knows you are. And he's waiting for you. He loves you.” Luke squirmed. "It feels weird talking like this to someone who isn't Tony, and that's a fact. It would feel weird talking like this with Tony, if I'm being frank. I'm going to go get a beer now."

Nick had to laugh at that. He helped to set the table, the kids all crowded around, and they enjoyed the kind of nice, big family dinner Nick had only ever dreamed of.

The next day, Tony and his brood joined Nick at the school near their house. Registering Sammy for school took some doing, and for once the flips in Nick's stomach weren't coming from the baby. "Nick and Sam are going to be staying with us for the duration, until some malicious issues from a stalker work themselves out.” Tony smiled, poised and confident. "Once that's over and done with, they'll be staying in the Virginia Beach area. "

Nick explained the attitude of the administration toward alphas at the Portsmouth school. He kept his hands on the arms of his chair, so they wouldn't shake and he wouldn't make fists out of them. When he finished, the Virginia Beach administrators were appalled. "I have to admit," the principal told him, recoiling a little bit, "I was kind of concerned when I heard how many detentions he'd had. I think I understand a little bit better now. The situation is certainly unusual, but I can't justify keeping a boy out of school under circumstances like this. Especially a boy with brains like his." She glanced over toward the corner where Sammy and Noah were playing. "As it happens, there's an opening in Ms. Carrington's class. Do you think that would be good for them, or a little too much togetherness?"

There was paperwork to fill out, but other than a writing cramp, there wasn't anything else to it. Sammy was duly enrolled in school, and that aspect of the nightmare was over. The principal even agreed to keep his enrollment there private, even for anyone claiming to be a relative. "You're probably embarrassed by what happened, and that's perfectly normal. I can promise you, though, it happens all the time. I'm surprised the Portsmouth school was so uncritical about that type of accusation.”

Nick went back to work, where his boss pretended to shake her head at him. "I don't know what we're going to do about all this drama following you around," she said, and passed him an almond croissant. "You know, from your record before, you'd have been the last one I thought would bring the trouble with you. I guess it just goes to show."

Nick cringed. "It does?"

"Yeah. You don't get to choose this stuff. It just happens. You're a great worker, Nick. A great nurse. I'm proud to have you on my staff, and this department will have your back for as long as you need it.” She put her hand on his back and smiled. "I know you haven't had that experience with other employers, but things are different here at Portsmouth. That's why we have so many retirement parties."

Serena worked hard and kept him updated via text, several times a day. She wasn't just interested in the case from the point of view of a professional helping a client. She'd become a crusader when Baudin turned to assault. "Don't you worry," she told him, the next time they spoke by phone. "If we win against Baudin, I'll take a cut. Otherwise, I'm perfectly happy to play attack dog. I'm mad now."

Nick wouldn't want to be on her bad side. He just winced and tried to stay out of her way.

It took some work on Serena's part, but after the Navy confirmed that Baudin had, in fact, admitted he'd made the whole abuse allegation up, the people from CPS were willing to come out to the hospital to meet with Nick. He met with two social workers, both women in their fifties. "You understand, Mr. Kosloski, that the investigation doesn't just go away because one person said they made the allegations up."

Serena was there, by Nick's side. "Does it count for anything that this 'one person' is the same person who assaulted and hospitalized him in November?” She pushed her dark, straightened hair over her shoulder and fixed the social worker with a disarmingly bland smile.

"Not appreciably, no. Mr. Baudin was never convicted of the assault. In fact, he was never charged with the assault.” The second woman tugged at her collar. "And the other accusers didn't seem to be making anything up."

"That's a prejudicial statement.” Serena examined her fingernails. "You've just stated that you believe the accusations. You've decided my client is being abused, regardless of his own testimony, the testimony of the child in question, and the testimony of the man who assaulted him and was disciplined by the Navy for doing so.” She looked up again. "Would you like to take this opportunity to re-frame your thoughts?"

The social worker rolled her eyes. "They don't seem to believe they were making anything up. Is that better?"

"Marginally."

The first social worker elbowed the second. "Marcia, hush. Mr. Kosloski, I'm sure you can understand that the rash act of pulling Sam out of school as soon as concerns were raised doesn't exactly fill us with confidence."

"I pulled him from school after they told me he had to be the aggressor in the fights for which he was in detention, simply because he's an alpha. That's asinine. Sammy was terrified of turning into some kind of monster when he got his results back. It's taken me and his father a lot of patience and effort to try to convince him that an alpha doesn't have to be a violent animal. The school treating him like a felon doesn't help. We'll be living in Virginia Beach once this is all over anyway. We'd planned to make the transition at the end of the school year to offer Sammy more stability, but I wasn't going to subject my son to one more second of that kind of humiliation.”

"Speaking of which, is that a typical policy in the Portsmouth schools?” Serena gave her most gentle smile again.

"It is not. And someone will speak to the principal about that, you're right.” Marcia looked away. "Why would someone falsify abuse charges against your partner? Especially if that 'someone' is part of his unit? That pushes the bounds of disbelief, Mr. Kosloski."

Serena waved a finger. "How about if you produce some evidence that Tom Fitzpatrick is actually abusing Nick, or that Sam is a witness, and then we can talk."

The social workers scowled, and then they rose and left. They promised they would be in touch. The investigation was not declared to be over yet.

A week went by, and another bomb went off. This one happened up in Baltimore. The bombers didn't manage to take out as many people as they had in Orlando, and Nick hated himself a little bit for partially dismissing the bombing because of it. "Would you listen to me?" he groused to Mal, as they bustled around the ER. "I'm sitting here thinking that this wasn't a real bombing because they only took out a hundred or so people. What's happening to me?"

Mal waved a hand in disgust at the TV. "It's happening to all of us. We're getting to be immune to it, because it happens so often. Either they'll change up their techniques to get the rise they want soon, or they'll just fade away."

"I'm okay with them just fading away. I'd be okay if they faded away and never came back.” Nick made a face. "Is that wrong of me?"

"No. But if they do that, we might never find who they all are.” Mal sighed and looked at the screen again. Was he thinking about the days when he could go out and fight these people himself, without warrants or due process? Nick didn't want to know. He loved and respected his friend. He wanted to keep it that way. "I have no idea what the right answer is here. But I do know it's got to be something more than running around with their heads off, squawking like chickens."

Nick winced. "Descriptive."

He got another message through the naval spouse grapevine. Tom was going back to Nebraska with his lawyer and a Naval investigator. They were going to try to get to the bottom of everything, once and for all. He needed Nick to be strong and keep his chin up while he was gone.

Nick almost screamed when he got the message. What else could he do, but sit around and be strong? All other avenues were closed to him. He couldn't even afford the luxury of a breakdown without Sammy falling into foster care. No, he had to set his chin and bear everything, accepting every blow that came his way, no matter what, because someone had to.

Tom could go to Nebraska and fight. Tom could punch Baudin in the teeth and, according to Luke, knock several of them out. Nick couldn't take any action at all.

It was maddening.

The social workers tried to meet with him again at his workplace, but without Serena around. Nick was having none of that, and he let them know. Then they wanted to inspect the home in which Sam was staying, which was humiliating to both Nick and to Tony. Tony didn't object, though. He agreed to the inspection and opened his home, and he watched them like hawks too.

The social workers wanted to know why he'd fled to another home. "You own the house in Portsmouth. Why wouldn't you just stay there?"

"Are you kidding me?” Nick threw his hands in the air. "I was assaulted in my boyfriend's home, by a Navy SEAL. When I tried to press charges, the judge refused on the grounds that my attacker was in the service. Do you think there's any way I was going to be willing to stay in that house once he'd openly admitted to having tried, yet again, to hurt me, this time through my son? No. Tony and Luke offered us someplace to stay, someplace that would allow us to get Sammy back in school. Since I can't call on Tom, my actual partner, for help at this point, I had to say yes.” He glared at her. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm pregnant. I need help sometimes."

Both social workers nodded at that. "Mr. Kosloski, I have to admit that we're not seeing a lot of evidence. The problem is, we're not seeing a lot of evidence to counter those claims either. If it were just one accusation that would be one thing, but there are multiple accusations. You understand—even assuming there's nothing going on, we have to be thorough. The next case won't be so innocent."

Nick gritted his teeth. "Come and talk to me in a year or two, when the dust has settled and my son's stopped asking if his dad's gotten sick of him now. Then I'll probably see your side of things. There are plenty of parents who are kind of terrible and who need this kind of investigating. But seriously, the evidence is there. You're just dismissing it.”

He shouldn't have been so short with them, but God, he missed Tom.

***

Tom tugged at his collar. He hadn't been back to Bow String since he was sent away, ten years ago. He'd stopped even thinking about coming back here when he thought Nick had abandoned him. His parents could, and had, come out to see him whenever he was in the States for any length of time. Nick would have been the only thing to go back for, otherwise.

Now he knew better.

He'd flown out with Darrell Green and Finn Gabrielson. Gabrielson was an investigator with the JAG office. He'd been called in because of the repeated attempts to get at Tom's benefits. "Believe it or not," he'd said, while they waited for their connection from Omaha to Alliance, "it isn't all that unusual to see families fighting over benefits. I mean we have to put a stop to it, but we still see it. The part that was a big red flag for us was the way they were doing it."

"When I was deployed?" Hearing the words in his own voice made everything sound more final. It was like a twist of the knife for him.

"Exactly. That's not so normal. I figured rather than hauling them all the way to Norfolk to ask them questions, I could talk to them right here in Nebraska. And if there's a crime, well then, we'll figure out how to bump a few people off that puddle jumper back to Omaha."

"My mom's afraid to fly.” It was the only think Tom could think to say.

Now they sat in the car outside the family farm. Tom's great-great-grandfather had established the farm, and generations of Fitzgerald men had kept it up ever since. Tom's cousin, Sean, was all lined up to take over once Tom's dad passed, and had been since long before Tom's brush with the law. The old farmhouse hadn't changed since Great-Grandpa built it; for a minute Tom felt like he was a humiliated scapegoat of a teenager again.

Then Gabrielson cleared his throat. "Looks like the sheriff's come to visit."

Tom's insides quivered, but he clenched his hands into fists. "You know, I wouldn't be a SEAL today if it weren't for him."

"Ah. Well, you'll have to thank him at some point.” Darrell sniffed at the cop car. "You're going to be fine, Tom. We've got your back."

The three men from Virginia exited the car. Sheriff Dobson got out of his. He'd gotten older, by quite a lot, over the past decade. There was a hell of a lot more than ten years' worth of living in the lines on his face. "I'm pretty sure I told you not to go coming back here," Dobson told him. "I told you I'd arrest you if you did. You remember that, boy?"

As a teenager, that threat had terrified him. Now Dobson's voice sounded reedy and broken. He just sniffed and glanced at Darrell.

Darrell stepped in and offered his hand. “Hi there. I’m attorney Darrell Green and this is Captain Gabrielson from NCIS. Even if he had done what you accused him of—and we both know he didn't—the statute of limitations has long since run out on anything shy of murder. And trust me, if you had enough to charge him with anything you would have. We came here to do a job, Sheriff.” Darrell smiled at the old man in the brown uniform. "You want to help us out, well then you can be my guest."

Dobson glowered at Gabrielson. "You know, you told me you were coming here on an investigation. You didn't tell me you were bringing that little pervert."

"Chief Petty Officer Fitzpatrick is a model sailor and a decorated war hero, Sheriff.” Gabrielson gave the old man a withering stare. "We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. Let's go."

Gabrielson led the way up the cobblestone path to the door. The path didn't date back to the original house. Dad had put it in, with Tom and Nick helping, back when Tom and Nick had been no more than Sammy's age. Mom had wanted it. She hated the old dirt path. How much more did she hate the cobblestones, simply because of the connection to Nick?

Tom knocked on the door. The thumping of his knuckles echoed across the cold dry air. It sounded like axe falls. He could feel Dobson's eyes on his back, burning a hole into his uniform.

Mom opened the door. Her shock at seeing him was evident, but she recovered quickly and threw her arms around him. "My God, it's Tommy!  Larry! Larry, it's our son! And two of his little friends!"

Tom hadn't seen his mother in two years. She'd gotten pale, and her hair had gone white by now. Still, she walked straight and tall. So did Dad, when he emerged. He looked, more or less, the same as he always did. He might have looked a little more grave, but Tom guessed that was to be expected from someone who knew he was guilty.

"Tommy? Not that I'm not glad to see you, but I'm surprised. What brings you by? It's an awfully long commute, isn't it?” Dad laughed at his own joke.

Tom nodded. "Some things have come up, Dad. Some legal issues, and I was wondering if we could ask you a few little questions. You know, for our own sanity."

"Sure, son. Anything you need.” Dad smiled at him and let him into the house, but his eyes flicked over to Gabrielson and to Darrell.

The sheriff followed them in. "I don't like this," he said. "Just for the record, I don't like this at all.”

"I know you don't.” Tom looked over at his childhood nemesis. "Don't worry. Once we've done what we came here to do, we'll be out of your hair."

Gabrielson sat down on the couch. Tom and Darrell sat down beside him. The couch was new. So were the rest of the furnishings. Most of the old photos, which had included Tom and his inseparable companion Nick, were gone. Tom's gorge rose.

"I'm going to have to be blunt here.” Gabrielson cleared his throat and pulled a set of papers from his briefcase. "My name is Captain Finn Gabrielson. I'm an investigator with JAG. I was recently assigned to a case in which the parents of a sailor—a SEAL—made several attempts to have their grandson eliminated as their son's beneficiary and have themselves reinstated. That sounds distasteful, I know."

Mom blinked wide blue eyes at him. "Why would it be distasteful?"

Tom had to lift his jaw with his hand. "Sammy is your grandson, you—” He cut himself off. "He's your grandson."

Mom snorted. "Oh, please. I know you had a little fling with the boy, but that doesn't make the kid family.” She waved a hand. "No child from the Kosloski family is going to be part of our family—not now, and not ever. The nerve of that boy!” She put a hand on Dad's arm and chuckled. "Do you remember it?"

Dad patted her hand. "How could I forget? It was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen."

"He came over here in tears, begging for help. I mean really, Tommy, how are we supposed to be sure that brat is even yours? Even if it is, you know what their family is like. They're subhuman. They're not even people.” Her lip curled. "I have no idea how the little bastard tracked you down, but don't you worry. We'll soon put things right."

"We always do look out for you." Dad gave Tom a fond smile. "Even when you can't look out for yourself."

Tom licked his lips. His mind was a blank. He'd been searching his brain, struggling, to find some way to excuse his parents. They hadn't meant well. They'd been evil, pure and simple. "You knew. You knew my son was out there, with Nick, and you let them suffer. You knew your grandson was born in a homeless shelter."

"That boy is no grandson of mine.” Mom grabbed Tom's jaw. "You know what that family's like. His father murdered his stepmother, you know. Killed her dead.” She let go. "I won't have my future decided by some wretched white trash."

"So you made several fraudulent attempts to wrest control of the benefits, even though you knew this was against your son's wishes."

Dad sighed and wagged a finger. "He just don't know what's best for him. He still needs a parent to do what's right for him.” Mom simpered up at him, but there was a tightness in her eyes.

It was all a lie. They were hiding something, and Tom thought he probably knew what it was. He looked over at Dobson, who was sweating bullets. "You know," he said, in a slow voice. "When I was a kid, eighteen years old, I didn't think about things like the law, or the constitution. I didn't think about lawyers. My parents probably should have. I mean who just lets their kid get railroaded into a high risk job like the freaking military? It's bizarre."

Dad's face stayed bland and condescending, but his scowl deepens. "Son, this is an old-fashioned community. We solve our problems like men around here. We don't need the government to mediate everything."

"So you packed me off to become part of the government.” Tom flashed them the "okay" sign. "Super. But seriously, is all of this about me and Nick? Because we were in love a long time before you turned on him, and we're still going to be in love when all of this is over."

Mom's lip curled. "That's what you think. You cost that little whore his spawn. He can't help but resent you."

"Mmm hmmm.” Tom held her eyes. He couldn't afford to let up, but his stomach twisted. Why wasn't Gabrielson stepping in here? "What makes you say that?"

"I know Bow String is conservative, Tom, but we've got phones.” Dad scoffed. "Do you think we can't have a say on things from here? Do you think we can't play our parts from here? Grow up, son. Just grow up."

Tom squinted. Were these really his parents at all? Okay, aliens and pod people and whatever weren't real, but neither were these people pretending to be his nearest and dearest. "You've been calling in and making accusations."

"We'll do anything to keep you on the path that's right.” Mom linked her arm with Dad's. "If that means making a few calls, we'll do that. It's not a question. A mother's job is to defend her son."

"And yet you didn't defend him from accusations that he'd assaulted one of the chess players. Interesting.” Now Gabrielson stepped forward, his grin wolfish. "You know, most parents would just call and talk with their son. They would have been honest with him. They might have said, 'Look, we don't want Nick or his son to be part of our family, and we're not going to acknowledge the boy without blood tests.' But you, you didn't do that. You went straight for the money. Why is that again?"

Dobson scowled and edged toward Gabrielson. His hand hovered near his sidearm. "You got no jurisdiction here, bucko."

"Actually I do.” Gabrielson showed his badge. "A crime that crosses state lines automatically falls under federal jurisdiction, and since it's a crime involving a Navy SEAL and a Navy dependent, it comes under NCIS jurisdiction.” He smiled brightly at Tom's parents. "And the Fitzpatricks are under arrest for fraud, as well as racketeering."

"RICO?” Even Tom had to sputter at that. "They're Mom and Pop America!  They're American Gothic!"

"They conspired with Baudin to attack Nick.” Darrell put a hand on Tom's shoulder. He'd been more or less silent until now.

Tom's blood turned to ice. "Let them twist.” He turned his back on his parents and went back out to the car.

He leaned up against the hood of the car and struggled to catch his breath. He hadn't had time to process everything that had gone down in that house. Truth be told, he probably wasn't going to have the time to process everything that had gone down in that house. He'd started the day thinking there must be some kind of rational explanation for everything, some gross miscommunication. He'd be able to clear it up, and they'd all sit down and laugh in Virginia Beach at Easter.

But no. His parents had been behind everything, to include him getting bundled off into the Navy. And he'd just been too stupid to see it all. He'd thought he was one of the rare guys in his unit to have a normal, functional family. Instead, he was another one that came from the weird, twisted backgrounds that just couldn't fit in anywhere else.

His own parents had been out to drive something between him and his lover. They'd been out to try to keep Tom from knowing his own children. They'd packed him off to the Navy to die forgotten and alone, and they'd only been concerned for the effect it had on their bank account.

So why did he still feel bad about the outcome for them?

He took a deep breath. He wasn't going to lose any sleep about them or about this. His parents weren't who he thought they were. Nick, though. Nick was exactly who Tom knew him to be when they were kids. Nick was everything. And they were going to raise their kids the right way—with love and acceptance.

He waited for the military police to get to the farm from the nearest base, which turned out to be Francis E. Warren Air Force Base near Cheyenne, Wyoming. Tom wouldn't have expected that level of intra-agency cooperation, but maybe he should have. Service members took their pay and their kids very seriously. Tom's parents had tried to mess with both.

The MPs took about an hour to get there, which told Tom that they'd been on their way before the group from Virginia even set off. Good on Gabrielson for getting the ball rolling, he guessed. It made sense. Maybe it sat a little funny in his spine, that the whole interview with his parents had been a foregone conclusion, but sometimes the end justified the means. Sometimes they had to just get stuff done.

Once his parents had been taken into custody, Gabrielson returned to the car. "All right. Anyone you want to go and see, anything you want to do in town?"

Tom thought about it. He could look up Nick's mom. He could tell her just how strong and amazing her son was, how he'd thrived in spite of her decision to try to destroy him. He didn't think it would have the desired effect, though. "Nah," he said. "Let's just go. Unless corn and soybean fields are your thing."

Darrell shuddered. "I think we've all had about enough of those for a day. Let's go home."