What We Pass On To Our Children

Chapter Twenty-Four
by: thelittletree

Arick hadn't known where Mr. Brescher was taking Pegatha when he'd started following them, he'd only known that losing them meant he might never see her again. Inconspicuously, he'd trailed them through corridors and doorways until they'd come to a set of double doors at the end of a hall. When Mr. Brescher had taken Pegatha into the room, Arick had gone in behind them without a second thought, scampering nearly on all fours for the shelter of some crates by the wall.

He'd been here for nearly half an hour so far, silent and hidden. There was another man in the room now, one of the suits-and-sunglasses. He could still hear Brescher talking with him, though he couldn't make out much of what they were saying. Pegatha wasn't making any noise and Arick had to fight the urge to peek over the tops of the crates for a glimpse of her. He'd gone over and discarded a dozen courses of action before deciding that his best chance of helping her was in staying where he was. They had brought her here for a reason, that much was obvious, so maybe he'd be able to do something once things were underway. He hoped to be able to do something, at least.

Suddenly, the sound of a radio buzzing to life shattered the hush in the room and Arick jumped in surprise. "Fitzgerald here," came a voice through the crackle of static.

"Go ahead," Brescher muttered.

"He's here," came the report through the static.

"Bring him."

"On my way."

Arick frowned, wondering what was going on. A meeting of some kind? What did any of this have to do with Pegatha? Feeling both curious and anxious now that things seemed about to start, he decided to move to where he could see the doors. Crawling silently behind the crates, he made his way around until he was peeking through a space between two boxes. After a few minutes of waiting, two men entered the room, one of them another suit Arick thought he'd seen around before, and the other a man he recognized, and the fact that he was here made Arick's jaw drop: Mr. Vincent Valentine, his some-time employer, his best friend's father, the man who had probably frowned at him more times than he'd spoken with him. He seemed gaunt and weary, like a man defeated. His clothes were slightly rumpled as if he'd slept in them, and his expression was one of resignation as if he'd given something up. A kind of fire flickered in his eyes, however, as he presumably saw Pegatha, and the sudden scalding emotion there reminded Arick vividly of the day the shop had been robbed and Pegatha had screamed so loudly. Arick waited for a repeat of the ass-kicking he'd given those men, but it didn't happen. Why was he here? Was Brescher looking for ransom money? Arick didn't think so. He could think of wealthier people it would've been more worthwhile to extort from.

Mr. Valentine stopped where he was and the man who'd come in with him went over to Brescher with his confiscated gun. Arick couldn't see Brescher from where he was, but he could hear him.

"So here's the famed Phantom Vigilante. You don't look so impressive up close."

Arick nearly gasped aloud and his disordered thoughts drowned out of the rest of Brescher's words for a few moments. Pegatha had been wrong; it was her father. And he certainly wasn't dead the way everyone had been made to believe.

When Arick started listening again, Brescher was laughing. "Well, I have you caged now," he said, and it sounded like he was gloating. "I have some things you want, I think."

Mr. Valentine didn't say anything right away and Arick got the impression from his stiff posture and his frozen expression that he was sizing up the situation. When he finally did speak, it was in the quiet, collected voice with a hint of steel beneath it that made Arick remember every lecture this man had given him. "Let her go. You have me. Let her go."

Brescher didn't reply. In the moments that followed the room might've been filled with the tension that seemed to be radiating from Mr. Valentine, except that the silence was broken as Pegatha, in a frightened and desperate scream, tried to call for her father. Arick's heart twisted at the sound of her so scared and helpless and he thought he saw Mr. Valentine's jaw quiver for a second. What was he going to do? Was he giving himself over for her release? What said that Brescher would let Pegatha go? Arick realized then and there what he had to do. Maybe fate had brought him here for this reason, maybe not, but there was a part he could play. He could make sure Pegatha got out of here safely.

There was the sound of scuffling, but it stopped after a second with a cry from Pegatha and Brescher's voice hissing, "Hold still, you little demon-spawn!" Then he laughed. "So, I hand over the girl and get you in return? Is it that easy?"

Mr. Valentine didn't move. "Where's my wife?"

Mrs. Valentine was here, too? Arick cursed under his breath. She'd always been so nice to him, he couldn't leave her here. Maybe if he got Pegatha out first he could come back... Damn, he thought to himself, maybe I've gotten in over my head.

"Oh, she's safe," Brescher replied casually. "Have no fear. I would let her go, too, of course."

"Release them first."

Brescher made a clucking sound with his tongue. "I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders, Mr. Valentine."

Arick watched anxiously, wondering what Mr. Valentine was going to do. It shocked him and scared him a little when he, remarkably, smiled.


"We're coming up on the door," Vincent heard through the speaker in his ear and he let himself smile at the man holding his daughter, though his lips felt strained with the action.

"Release them or I will summon the police."

The smirk on the man's face froze for a moment. He turned on the man who'd brought Vincent into the room. "Fitzgerald, did you check him for a wire?"

Fitzgerald shrugged helplessly. "You didn't say to. I just did like you said and brought him here."

"You idiot!"

"Okay, we're in position," Innis said through her mic.

"Now," Vincent told her.

The next few seconds happened in a blur. The door at the back of the room burst open and the four members of Vincent's group, still dressed in civilian clothing, ran in and trained their weapons on the three members of the organization. The three members, for their part, pointed their guns at the police instinctively and backed up toward the crates. After a second or two, the man holding Pegatha returned the barrel to her temple. His easy smirk returned. "Drop the weapons or I'll kill her."

No one moved. After a moment Gunther spoke. "You kill her, we kill you. You're trapped. Drop your weapons."

The man didn't take his eyes from Vincent. "I still have your wife, Mr. Valentine, and only I know where she is. If I die so does she. She's in solitary confinement, let's say, with a limited supply of air. I think you should comply."

Vincent let none of his conflicting emotions show in his expression. There had been the possibility that this could go wrong, and it was starting to unravel. He had to get this back to bargaining for Pegatha and Elira. Gunther looked to him for instructions and Vincent couldn't miss the angry glare in his eyes that said he'd let them down. He nodded to indicate that they should lower their weapons. Gunther did so and the others followed his lead.

"That's more like it," the man holding Pegatha crooned. "See, you can be a reasonable man when you want to be."

One of the men behind him was glancing around. "Perhaps you should order the police back out the door," he said quietly, though it was loud enough for Vincent to hear.

"In a minute, M," the man said. "I still have one more ace to play." His smile widened as he glanced down at Pegatha. "Beautiful daughter you have here, Valentine. It would be a shame to kill her, wouldn't it? I'm sure I could find another use for her if I thought about it."

Vincent held his anger in check. He wasn't going to let this man's remarks goad him into anything. He'd played this game before. "If you want me, you have to let her go. Give her to police and I'll come without a fight."

The man continued as if he hadn't heard him. "If she's even half as good as your wife was, I'm sure she'd be worth it."

Vincent's eyes narrowed and felt himself begin to shake despite his efforts at remaining still. Gods, no. If he'd even touched Elira...

"By the end of it, she was moaning like a whore. I even let a few of my men have a turn with her."

Vincent felt his stomach roil. "Let them go." He cursed inwardly at his own harsh, unsteady voice. "You have me. Let them go."

"What, already? I've just started." He grinned suddenly, and the picture of his face was another jolt to Vincent's memory. "You remember the old shop in Neo-Midgar, don't you Vincent? It was me. I was the one who set fire to it all those years ago. I was so angry."

And then, as if he'd introduced himself, Vincent remembered who he was. "Terry," he grated out. "I knew I recognized you."

Terry continued grinning. "It took Elira a moment, too, but soon she was screaming my name." His grin widened. "My name isn't Terry Dayle anymore, however. Now I'm Brescher, the leader of a powerful society." He unconsciously affected his stance as if getting more comfortable for a conversation with an old friend. "So, Elira married you, you son-of-a-bitch? Well, maybe she didn't care what you are, but do they know?" He indicated Gunther and the others with a jerk of his head. Gunther glanced up, his eyes showing curiousity. "They don't, do they? Of course not. Who would trust you if they knew, right? Does your own daughter know?" He shook her gently as if he was just joking around. "Huh? Do you know what your father is? Do you know what kind of blood you've got running through your veins? Why don't we all find out?" He pressed the muzzle of his gun into Pegatha's temple until she gave a muffled cry of pain.

Vincent grit his teeth on the urge to demand that he stop playing around. What was he trying to do?

Terry pulled roughly on Pegatha's hair and yanked the blindfold from her face. She gave another cry and squinted as the room suddenly came into view. "Watch him! See what he is!" He wrapped his arm around her neck and started choking her. She gasped faintly and started flailing her legs, her hands still bound behind her back. "Watch what he becomes!"

Vincent saw red. "Let her go, Terry!" he shouted, storming forward, heedless of his own safety, determined to rip Pegatha out of the man's grasp.

Brescher swung the gun around to point it at Vincent, his expression twisted with rage and fear. "Stay back, demon! Don't come near me!" He fired off a shot and Vincent stumbled back, raising a hand to his abdomen where the bullet had impacted.

Suddenly, a number of things happened at the same time. Pegatha screamed again for her father. Gunther raised his gun and, since the tentative cease-fire had been broken, shot the weapon out of Brescher's hand. With a cry of pain and shock, Brescher doubled over, folding his stinging fist to his body, momentarily releasing Pegatha. And that's when a shock of red hair burst over the tops of the crates as a young man none of the police officers knew jumped out of hiding and pulled a sobbing, disoriented Pegatha to safety.

And, just like that, the tables were turned.


Arick hurried to get the bindings off of Pegatha. Her eyes were red and swollen with crying and she looked wild with fear as if she might bolt at any second from anyone, even a friend. Arick took her arm and, despite the way she jumped and tried to pull away, urged her into an embrace and tried to calm her down.

"Shh. It's all right. It's all over now."

She seemed to settle a little, but that's when the tears hit. "Daddy!" she sobbed and started hitting him with her fists until he fell backward. Before she could stand and run into the open, however, Arick grabbed her roughly and pulled her down on top of him. "Quiet!" he ordered her in a whisper. "It's not safe yet!" He didn't know what was going on on the other side of the crates, but it was a good assumption that she should stay hidden.

"Daddy," she sobbed again, fighting against his restraining hold.

And, unsure how to comfort or to quiet her, Arick put a hand behind her neck and kissed her forcefully. She stiffened suddenly and for a moment there was no reaction. Arick felt little sparks exploding in his head, but then Pegatha came to herself and pulled away, though her actions lacked the recklessness of the last minute or two. She sat up and her eyes showed recognition. "Arick?"

He sat up, a little breathless. "I...I'm sorry I...kissed you," he stuttered.

As if she couldn't remember, she put a hand to her lips. "It's okay," she said automatically. In a second she was glancing around. "Where's my dad?"

"Out there," Arick told her, gesturing over the crates. He wasn't sure if he should tell her any more, but then he heard himself say, "He was shot."

Pegatha gasped and started scurrying around the crates until she could get out from behind them. Arick followed her with a curse. "Don't!" he tried to warn her. "He just saved you! Don't let them capture you again!"

She didn't listen. In a moment, she'd disappeared from his sight. Discarding caution, Arick stood up and ran after her, sparing a glance for the rest of the room. The police had surrounded Brescher and his two men, and seemed to be in the process of arresting them. Mr. Valentine was sitting on the floor with his legs drawn up, coughing, with a hand pressed to a spot beneath his ribs. Pegatha rushed over to him and fell to her knees, pushing at his hand. He let her have her way and she stared at the spot he'd been holding, the hole in his shirt, open-mouthed for a moment.

"I'm all right," he told her with another cough. "I'm wearing a bullet-proof vest."

Pegatha stared at him for another second before throwing her arms around his neck and, again, bursting into tears. "Oh, Dad," she said thickly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ran away. I didn't know you were the Phantom Vigilante. Oh, Daddy..."

He held her gently and let her cry herself out. In a few minutes, Gunther came over and, while Arick helped Pegatha up, he held out a hand to pull Vincent to his feet. Vincent seemed to consider refusing, but then grasped the offered palm and righted himself.

"He won't tell us where he's keeping your wife," Gunther said. "He wants to bargain for his freedom. And that's not something I can make a decision on. We'd have to take him back to the station."

Brescher was laughing from where he was standing, guarded with his two men by the other three officers. "Don't you hate legal red tape?" he taunted.

Vincent walked within a few feet of Brescher, Gunther at his heels and Arick and Pegatha following at a distance. "How much is a limited supply of air?"

Brescher looked smug. "I guess demons can't be killed by mere bullets."

"Answer me."

"Oh, about an hour, I expect. Maybe less. If you want her alive you'll have to let me go now." There was amusement in his expression, though he seemed sort of restless as he switched his weight from one foot to the other and back again, as if he wanted nothing more than to back away from his interrogator. Vincent wondered momentarily if Terry still dreamed about the attack Chaos had made on him. He was probably questioning why Vincent hadn't transformed this time. If he'd just given Pegatha over, he could've taken Vincent and gotten out of there before the rest of the police showed up; he'd been a fool to try for that little bit of revenge.

Gunther sighed. "Well, it would definitely take longer than an hour to search the entire Gold Saucer, and the tram ride itself back to North Corel takes forty-five minutes. Maybe we'll have to forgo protocol."

"How do we know he's not lying?" Marks asked from where she was standing with her gun pointed at M. "She could have days worth of air, or she could be dead already." She bit her lip. "Sorry, Mr. Valentine."

He shook his head by way of forgiveness. "Of course we don't know. I don't want to take the chance."

By this time, Vincent had nearly forgotten all about Pegatha. He glanced to his right as she stepped up beside him. "I think I know where Mom is," she said quietly.

Everyone looked at her and a frown marred Brescher's handsome features. Pegatha stared at Brescher for a moment, remembering when she'd thought he'd been the Vigilante and, more recently, remembering her fear of him. She dropped her eyes to the floor. "I heard Mr. Brescher talking to someone once while I was exploring the floors. He was talking about turning a room at the end of a hall into a solitary confinement." She recalled his words of a few minutes ago when he'd been holding her, when he'd told her father that her mother was in 'solitary confinement', and she gained a little confidence. "I can show you where it is."

Pegatha saw hope battle with indecision in her father's expression and silently pleaded with him. Please, Dad. I know I haven't made very good decisions lately, and I know you don't like my choice of friends, but please trust me this time. For Mom's sake.

Eventually, hope seemed to win out and Vincent nodded. "Show me, Pegatha." He turned to Gunther. "I will be back shortly, one way or the other." He was just about to turn with Pegatha to leave the room when Brescher, crying out in anger and frustration, lunged suddenly for Warner's gun. The handcuffs that had been put on him had somehow been opened and now dangled uselessly from one wrist. Before Warner could react, Brescher had aimed the weapon at Pegatha, point blank.

That was a second before the bullet hole appeared in his head, above his temple, and he fell heavily to his right, almost into Gunther. He didn't get up again.

Arick lowered the pistol, the one Vincent had been issued and that Fitzgerald had been forced to discard, and starting trembling from head to foot. After a moment, he turned away and was noisily sick on the floor.


Despite the fact that his hands were still shaking, Arick had insisted on accompanying Pegatha and her father to the vault where Peg thought her mother might be. Vincent had wondered how he'd managed to shoot Terry before any harm could be done to Pegatha, and Arick had explained that, while they'd talked, he'd just sort of started wandering around and had happened to see Brescher picking the lock on his handcuffs. It had been too late, really, to say anything about it to the police, so he'd just picked up the gun at his feet and pointed it. He hadn't really meant to kill him, he'd just wanted to tell him to freeze. But then Brescher had meant to shoot Pegatha and he'd just pulled the trigger. It had all happened so fast, it was still hard to believe it had occurred at all, but the mental picture of Brescher's death would be a constant reminder to Arick, probably for years to come, of what he'd done.

Vincent vaguely remembered his own first killing, the way it had twisted his stomach and given him nightmares. If he'd had a choice at that point, he never would've killed another soul in his life after that. At least Arick had a choice, and Vincent hoped the boy would think twice next time before committing himself to something that taught people how to fight.

Pegatha led them unerringly to the hallway with the heavy door and preceded them down the stairs toward the metal vault. Once she was there, she pulled on the silver release bar experimentally, but of course the vault was locked. She glanced at her father.

Vincent stepped forward. "Elira?" There was no response. She either wasn't in there, or the room was soundproof. He frowned and tried once more, pounding on the door with a fist. "Elira, can you hear me?" Still nothing. He moved back and examined the door. The lock on it was a small combination dial not unlike the one on their safe in the shop. It might take hours to decipher the code without Terry's help, and even going to find something to blow open the door would take precious time. He gave a growl of frustration, knowing that Elira was probably feet from him behind the door, but unable to get to her.

Arick had been staring at the combination lock since they'd arrived and now he stepped forward. "I think..." he began, and put his ear to the metal door as he twisted the dial. "I think I can open this one."

Pegatha had been near tears, but now she clapped her hands. "Just pretend you're trying to get the deposit at work," she said. Arick grinned, but sobered at a glance from Vincent.

The hallway was silent except for the occasional grunt from Arick. The process he was using to break the code seemed to take ages, though in actuality it was no more than a couple of minutes before he was stepping back with an exclamation of success. "I think I got it," he said unnecessarily, and moved as Vincent approached the door again.

The bar moved easily now into a downward vertical position and Vincent pulled mightily to open the metal door. Despite the force he was using, it still swung slowly. He wasn't sure what he expected to see on the other side, perhaps Elira huddled in a corner waiting to be rescued, but that wasn't what he got. The door wasn't fully open before a figure was darting out and throwing herself at him, her fists raised and her voice coming out in screaming sobs.

"You bastard! What have you done! Where is he, you goddamn bastard! I'll kill you!"

The force of her initial headlong rush had knocked Vincent backward and he fell full-length onto the floor with a hysterical Elira in his arms. With her eyes closed tightly and her face streaked and puffy with tears, she continued pounding on his chest for a few seconds before raising her nails to his face as if to scratch his eyes out. Deftly, Vincent caught her by the wrists and waited until she stopped struggling. With a cry of defeat, she sagged against him, weeping.

"Elira," he said quietly after a moment. "Elira, calm down. It's me."

Elira stirred and blinked as if coming to herself and glanced up from where she'd pressed her face into his shirt. "Vincent?" she asked in a voice not much above a whisper.

He gave her a small smile. With another cry, Elira threw herself forward and held him tightly. "Oh God, he told me you would be dead! He said the next time the door opened, it would be him, and that would mean you were dead!"

He held her tightly. "It's all right. He's dead now, Elira." Carefully, Vincent sat up, pulling Elira with him. Pegatha and Arick were standing nearby, both staring with their mouths open, still shocked by Elira's aggressive charge from the vault. In a moment, Pegatha broke out of her trance and dropped down to hug her mother. "Mom! I'm so sorry I ran away! I'm sorry all of this happened! If only I'd stayed home..."

Elira started. "Pegatha?" She hugged her firmly. "Oh, I'm so glad you're all right. Terry told me you were here. I was so afraid something had happened to you."

Pegatha pulled back to look into her mother's face and both of them were crying. "No, I'm okay. I was starting to think we wouldn't be able to save you."

Elira hugged her daughter again and then noticed Arick standing off to the side. With a teary smile, she beckoned him over and gave him a hug as well. Vincent stood up after that and helped Elira to her feet. She glanced around the hallway and then looked at her rescuers. "Can we go home now?" she asked. "All of us?"


The bust at the Gold Saucer was larger than the one in Neo-Midgar had been, and all of the runaway teens, except for the few that had been involved in some of the illegal activities of the organization, were returned to their homes. Most of Brescher's immediate associates were found and sent back to Neo-Midgar where the facilities were better equipped to deal with them. The only one who managed to escape arrest was one the others called 'M', and no one knew where he had gone.

Vincent decided to make one last report to the police station, to make sure that the situation wherein Arick had killed Brescher was understood. Neilson received him into his office with a smile.

"Well, I guess we won't be seeing you around here anymore, will we?" Neilson remarked once Vincent had told him all of what had happened.

Vincent's lips twitched at the corners. "I suppose not."

"You're probably happy enough about that. Thanks, in case no one's said it yet. Thanks for everything you've done for us, and for North Corel. I know how much it almost cost you."

Vincent nodded his appreciation. "I'm glad to have been of help."

Neilson smiled again and stood from his chair, holding out a hand. "My house is always open in case you and your family ever want to come to dinner or anything," he offered.

Vincent shook the proffered palm. "I'll keep that in mind. Good-bye, Inspector."

"See you around, Vincent."

Neilson watched his short-term employee leave the station before turning to sort through the last of the paperwork on this case. He was glad it was all over, though he had to admit he was a little sorry to see the most driven officer they'd ever had on the force go out the door never to return, at least not in the same way. But Valentine was a family man above all else, it seemed, and it had been far past time for him to return to that kind of a life.

Neilson sat down in his chair once he was ready and starting sifting through the reports. And then, with a sigh, he put them aside and decided that he wanted to call home.


That evening, after Vincent had put a make-shift lock on the door of the shop, the Valentines had dinner around the table, all three of them, for the first time in weeks. Elira cried.

After supper, Pegatha left the kitchen to call Arick's house to see how he'd been received by his mother. While she did that, Elira started the dishes. Picking up a dishtowel, Vincent came to stand beside her. Gently, with a hand to her hip, he placed a kiss to her temple. She smiled at him. "Everything's going back to the way it was," she said happily.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Vincent told her. As she handed him the first of the plates, he cleared his throat. "Elira?" he began.

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you something. I think I probably already know the answer, but I need to ask it anyway."

She stopped and turned to him. "What is it?"

Vincent was suddenly very intent on drying the dish. "Terry said...that he had raped you, and had allowed some of his men to do the same thing. I expect you would've told me if that had been the truth, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Elira paled and swallowed noisily as if the very thought of what Vincent had said made her ill. "No," she told him immediately. "He didn't touch me, and neither did any of his men. He only came in to see me twice, and then only for a few minutes. He seemed more interested in gloating and telling me how he was going to kill you."

Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm very glad to hear that." He pulled her into a one-armed hug and kissed the top of her head.

"I was glad, too," Elira replied quietly. "A rape right now might've had some repercussions I don't even want to think about."

Vincent frowned and pulled back to look her in the face. "What do you mean?"

Elira gave him a small, guilty smile. "I didn't want to tell you earlier in case it would distract you from your job, but I suppose now's as good a time as any." She licked her lips. "Remember a few years ago when we were trying to get me pregnant?"

Vincent blinked. "Yes, I remember."

"Well, it finally worked."

Vincent's face went blank. "What?"

"I think I'm pregnant. A couple of weeks ago I thought it was the flu. But then I was having those cravings and I was so tired all of the time, not to mention the mood swings." She smiled uncertainly. "Congratulations Mr. Valentine, you're about to be a father. Again."

Vincent didn't reply though he continued to look at her. She punched him gently in the arm. "Say something."

"You should have told me."

"That's not what I meant by saying something."

Putting the dish in his hands down on the rack, he bowed his head to kiss her lips. "It's good, Elira. Anything that adds to our life together is good."

Elira opened her mouth as if to argue that that wasn't what she'd wanted to hear, either, but then she closed it again, seemingly resigned to not getting any other answer. After another moment, she spoke. "You won't lock me up in this apartment again, will you?"

He sighed. "As long as you promise not to do anything too strenuous."

She rolled her eyes. "Here we go again." And then she laughed.


Pegatha put down the phone receiver and smiled. Arick's mother had been angry at him for running away, but she'd hugged him and she'd cried. Rory had even come home because their mother was worried. Maybe they'd had their differences over the years, but Arick's mother did love him just as much as she loved her other son. Just as her own father loved her just as much as he'd loved her when she'd been a child.

The rest of the evening Pegatha spent following her parents around. Her mother was likely pregnant, she discovered, and the thought of a baby brother or sister excited her. Her father she trailed down into the forge where he was going to inventory their stock, just to make sure nothing had been stolen while the door to the shop had been left unlocked. After a few minutes of watching him work, she starting helping him count their wares. The guns were cool and sleek in her hands, but now that she'd seen and heard these kinds of weapons used before they didn't hold the same kind of mystery for her. In fact, she realized that she never wanted to make a gun ever, in her entire life. Maybe her parents had wanted her to take over the business when she grew up, but that wasn't what she wanted. Maybe now that she'd had a little bit of training, she'd go into the defense arts somewhere, when she was older. Maybe her father's friend the Lady Kisaragi would want to help her out.

Part way through the inventory, Vincent noticed that his daughter was starting to droop. The last few days had been emotionally and physically draining for all of them and, despite the fact that it wasn't much past eight o'clock, Pegatha looked ready for bed. He stopped what he was doing and walked over to her. "Peg, I think you need some sleep."

She nodded with a yawn. "I feel so tired," she admitted. "It'll be nice to sleep in my own bed again."

Vincent followed her up the stairs to the apartment and then waited until she'd brushed her teeth and changed for bed to tuck her in. She smiled as he furled the blankets up to her chin. "Thanks, Dad," she told him, though what she was thanking him for wasn't completely clear.

Vincent seemed ready to turn off her light, but he paused. "Peg, do you remember when I used to read to you before you fell asleep?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

He sat on the edge of her bed. "I want to tell you a story tonight, but this one is a little different. This one is true, and it's about me and your mother."

Pegatha moved her pillow so that she could sit up a little. "Will you tell me where you got your training?"

"That's a part of it, yes."

"And about Mr. Brescher."

"Yes."

"And why he called you a demon."

Vincent paused. "Yes, that too. I will explain everything. And you may have to be patient for parts of the story. This will probably take a few nights."

"That's all right. I don't mind."

Vincent hesitated again. "It may also change the way you look at me, Pegatha. There are things about my past your mother and I haven't told you."

Pegatha looked at him earnestly for a second. "Dad, it won't matter. You'll still be the same person you are now. You'll still be my daddy. I'll still love you."

Vincent smiled at her slightly. "All right, then. I'll begin. This story starts in Wutai..."


Well, there's still the epilogue to come, but this chapter pretty much wrapped everything up. I hope those of you who are still journeying with me on this story have enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thanks, everyone, for reading and for the encouragement. This has been a lot of fun! Heh...now what the heck am I going to do?