This story was written from an idea presented to me by Helen Wieliczko. Though she does not fancy herself a writer (and is unfamiliar with writing punctuation and dialog), the imagery she brings is excellent. I am honored to help in putting this idea down. I hope I have done justice to the idea.

As he looked out his window at the rain coming down he thought, 'Could this be an omen telling me that I have made another mistake?' Peter was so sure that all of his planning was going to go wrong. Of course it will, it always does. 'Great Pete! With that type of thinking no wonder everything goes wrong…' Well, he decided, right or wrong this was it.

Peter had decided that, after 4 years of always feeling like a failure where his father was concerned, it was time for a one-on-one, full out, with everything laid out on the table, talk; bring out everything he ever wanted to ask and finally demand an answer. Peter knew that it had to be done so that his father would feel at ease and comfortable, so Peter had taken his time and come up with the perfect plan. The first step, taking four weeks vacation time, had been easy. Now came the more difficult part, emotionally speaking; he had to talk his father into going on a trip with him. Inhismind, he had already begun calling this trip 'a journey to the beginning.'

The knock at the door announced the immenent arrival of "the moment,' and suddenly, all of Peters plans turned to jello.

"Oh God!" he said out loud to no one in particular, "he’s here. Okay calm down Peter, you can do this. He’s your father, not Buddha himself, even though sometimes he may sometimes seem like it. Go and open the door before he thinks you're a dumb butt for just standing here talking to yourself. What am I saying, he'd never think that. Calm down Pete, you know that he can probably hear you."

Peter rushed to the door and opened it, a wide grin spreading on his face despite his nervousness.

"Pop! Hi, glad you could make it," said Peter.

"You said that it was very important that we talk," said Caine.

"Well, yeah, it is, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t just be glad to see you, too."

"No, it does not," replied Caine.

"Good, because I am glad to see you, Pop."

"I am also pleased to see you Peter," Caine replied as he watched his son move endlessly around the room looking for things to fix or move.

Peter asked, "Pop, would you like something to drink?"

"Water would be fine," his father answered, aware that Peter seemed to be stalling for time. Curiosity waned as his considerable patience began to wear thin where his son was concerned. Whatever was disturbing Peter, he needed to get to the source of it quickly.

"Water, yeah okay," Peter said as he went to the kitchen to get it. Peter rummaged through the cupboards looking for a clean mug and retrieved the jug of bottled water from the refrigerator.

Caine watched as his son's nervous energy finally reached its peak. It was time for the father to force his hand and get his son to calm down.

"Peter!"

"What?" Peter said as he spun around to face his father, nearly spilling the water in the process. The forcefulness of his father's voice had finally brought his continual motion to a sudden stop. The pleading look he found in his father's eyes brought Peter to attention.

"Sit down and tell me what is on your mind, my son, please," his father said as he motioned for Peter to sit.

Peter brought his father the requested water and set it on the coffee table as they both sat. Peter took a moment to draw a calming breath and gathered his thoughts before proceeding to tell his father the plan.

"Pop, I had this great idea that I wanted to talk to you about. I have taken some time off from work so that you and I could take a journey."

"What kind of journey, my son?" asked Caine, cocking his head to one side to listen with rapt attention.

"A journey of sharing," replied Peter.

"I do not understand."

Peter took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

"I figured that the easiest way to answer all of the questions that we have about each other, from the time that the Temple was destroyed until we found each other again, would be to go back to where we started, back to where our paths split. Back to the Temple, Pop. Then we can make the journey together, from there to here, and see what comes in between from both of us. Maybe, by the time we return, we both will understand each other a little bit more and can better figure out what the other needs."

Peter was sure that his father was going to think that he was nuts. He almost fell over when the next words from his father were, "That is a wonderful idea, my son. When do we leave?"

Peter felt tears of happiness fill his eyes with happiness as he hugged his father and said, "The sooner the better."

As Caine left to pack his bag, Peter said that he would pick him up in one hour.

"Good," his father said, "In one hour, we begin our journey of love and understanding."

Peter laughed to himself, 'Leave it to Pop to come up with a better name for this then mine. That's okay, it was my idea and it’s gonna be great, and scary.'

The rain had stopped by the time Peter got to his father's apartment. As he started up the stairs, he was met by his Dad standing at the top.

"You're already done packing?"

"I travel light," his father answered.

Across his father's back, Peter could see the customary leather pouch that Caine always carried, the tube that contained his flutes, a small duffel bag that he had not seen before, and a bedroll.

"Besides, I am eager to begin our journey. How will we travel to our home?" Caine asked with a smile. The last time they had traveled, it had been by car. This time, something in his son's demeanor told him it would not be that way again.

Peter had a sly smile on his face.

"When you are in my business, you have a lot of connections," Pete replied. "Kermit made arrangements with Rykker. We have a private plane waiting for us at the airport to take us there. Once we arrive we'll rent a car. Well let's go Pop."

Together they left their present lives behind and set out on a journey to the past.

When the plane landed, Peter was so happy that he did not care where they were or what would happen, so long as he could feel solid ground under his feet. This had been the longest trip of his life, or so it seemed. His father had made him take the window seat so that he could see what and where their journey would cover. All Peter could see was the seat in front of him because that is were his eyes stayed.

When Peter started to go to the rental car area his father shook his head and said , "No."

Peter looked at his Dad with confusion. "What do you mean no? How are we going to get around if we don't have a car?"

"The same way I 'got around' 15 years ago," Caine answered.

"What?" Peter said. "We're going to walk all the way?"

"Did you not say we were going to take a journey to the past?"

"Well yes, but. . ."

"No buts. We walk through time not drive."

"I am not you Pop, I don't think I can walk that far. Besides, I only have four weeks of vacation."

"You will be surprised at what you can do, my son . You are in for many surprises as I am sure I am also."

"How do you think this is going to go, Dad?"

"I do not know, my son. I am sure it will be most interesting as we have both waited a long time for this moment to come. I am sure it may bring us sorrow as well as happiness, anger as well as love, our emotions will be set in many directions, but will always bring us home. Let us begin our journey together, my son."

With that, they began their walk towards their Temple, their home, their past.

The day was pleasant enough. Peter was glad to learn that Rykker had been lucky to make arrangements for the private plane to touch down at a small airport outside of Braniff.

"Pop, I'm not sure which direction to go. The last time we were here, we drove across country. We had stopped at the Temple first before going into town. I'm a little disoriented."

"The airport is west of Braniff. The Temple is north. We go this way."

Kwai Chang settled his belongings comfortably over his shoulder and began walking. Peter picked up his backpack that he had brought along, but had not expected to be using in this manner. Before they had boarded the plane, Caine had reminded him that they should travel as light as possible, prompting Peter to set about choosing those items that he thought were necessary to the trip. His father had watched him and shook his head at each item that Peter had pulled from the backpack. By the time Peter was done, he was down to one change of clothes, a journal, and an extra pair of shoes. Even his gun and badge had been left behind, at Caine's insistance. Peter had returned the rest of the items to the trunk of his car. The backpack felt considerably lighter after that, but Peter did not know how they were going to survive on so little.

As his father started to walk away, Peter realized that if his father could do it for 15 years, so could he for the next four weeks. He briefly watched his father's stride and could see it was easy and slow. It was the stride of a person who had not rushed through life, but was mindful of each step that he took. Peter could also see that those steps had not been easy. They reminded him of his own journey those 15 years.

'All those years really must have been painful for him,' he thought to himself. 'I still can't get over the fact that he had walked all that way from the Temple to find me, or at least to discover that I wasn't dead, either.' Peter shook his head. This journey, though a good one, was already beginning to weigh him down. How was he going to be able to walk all that way? It already seemed like it was going to take them forever at this pace.

"Peter? Do not lag behind."

Peter smiled at his father's slight reprimand. It reminded him of the many times they had gone into town together when Peter was younger. Going to town had always excited him but, going home, Peter would drag his feet not wanting to leave. Maybe deep down Peter had always wanted to be part of the city. There was always something to do and people to see. Kwai Chang turned around again to check on the progress of his son. He could not help smiling himself.

"Peter?"

"Coming, Pop. Just reliving old memories." Peter was surprised just how far his father had walked in just a few minutes. With that, Peter quickened his steps and tried to match his father's stride.

As they walked, Peter began forming questions in his mind as to what he wanted to learn of his father's 15 years of wandering. Soon they found themselves on the outskirts of Braniff. Much had changed since their last visit, two years ago. It looked like Braniff was experiencing a new boost in its economy. A small shopping center had moved in where once there had been an open field, and new construction was apparent as large houses and rows of townhouses were being added to the landscape. Peter looked at the development in disgust. He hoped there wasn't any such development happening around the ruins of the Temple. He would hate to see such pristine land be eaten up with strip malls, high rises, and drafty cardboard townhouses.

"What troubles you, my son?"

"I can't believe what's happening here. Look at that. Didn't we use to come over to this field and see if we could spot pheasants during the late fall? I remember seeing deer and hundreds of geese and ducks feeding during the migration. Why do things have to change so much?"

"I do not know, my son," Caine said with a touch of sadness. "Your mother and I use to have picnics right under that oak tree before you were born and even after." He pointed to a lone tree now standing in the midst of a large parking lot. It was very old and it's branches spread out into a large canopy, sheltering a part of the lot. The cars that were there gravitated to that particular spot. "I am pleased to see that at least it has not fallen to the 'wheels of progress?" Caine said searching for the right vernacular. "It is good to see that it has remained rooted and strong."

"Yeah, but for how long? Eventually a tree like that dies or it will end up being chopped down."

As they approached, a plaque was spotted. The plaque stated that the tree had been present during the gold rush and when the Spaniards had inhabited this area back when California had been part of Spain. Peter breathed a sigh of relief to know that this tree was protected by the Historical Society of Braniff.

"I didn't know this tree was that old. For all we know great-grandfather may have sat under it, too."

As Peter read the plaque, Caine picked up some fallen acorns and placed them in his pouch. He then pulled out his journal and made a note. He would scatter most of the acorns along their journey, hoping they would take root, but he would keep two of them for something special. These he would nurture and grow, and one day plant in a place of safety, perhaps within the courtyard of a new Temple.

"Come Peter, we must be going."

"Can we visit the shrine that Rachel was building?"

"Of course."

Peter touched the tree one more time as he reached up with his other hand to grasp the locket that hung around his neck. Without realizing it, he had received a small piece of his father's life he had not known before. It was a gift he would cherish for the rest of his life.

"Peter?"

"Coming, Pop."

Kwai Chang Caine was amused at the actions of his son. Though Caine was use to walking and even lingering, most of the time he would stop when he knew there would be an opportunity to help someone. It was not always known what that event might be. Sometimes it was only a feeling that he should stay, at least for a short time. This time, with Peter, it was alien and familiar at the same time. It had been many years since they had walked together. During those days, their walks had been filled with lessons that they had both learned. On this day, Caine was learning a lesson he had forgotten, to have patience with his son, to share memories, and not to hurry. This was to be a journey meant for both of them.

Peter caught up with his father and the two men walked in companionable silence. Soon more familiar houses appeared, giving way to the more commercial buildings of the downtown. They soon came in view of the old Mission road and continued walking to meet their next stop along their journey of remembrance.

Kwai Chang Caine and his son walked in silence down the long dusty road toward Rachel Lowery's farm. It had been nearly two years since they had last been here. Their last visit to Braniff had served to dispel much of the pain that Peter had faced. When he had visited the Temple by himself, he'd relived the horror and "seen" the truth. His father had been injured. He had not turned away, but had fallen beneath the debris raining down as another explosion had rocked the Temple's foundations. A large beam had also crashed down across his father's back, sending him into darkness. Once the truth had been revealed, he had asked his father's forgiveness for ever having doubted him. He should have known that his father would never deliberately leave him. With that forgiveness, Peter remembered other times when his father had been there, protecting him from the terrors of the night.

***

"No! No! Father, help me!" Peter struggled, wrapped in a cocoon of sheets that seemed to grow tighter and tighter.

"Peter! Wake up, my son. It is only a dream."

"No!"

"Peter!" Kwai Chang shook his son.

Peter bolted upright in bed, sweat pouring from his face. His eyes were wide with terror.

"Father!"

"Shhh. I am here my son." Kwai Chang Caine sat beside his son and gathered him into his embrace. "It is all right. The nightmare is over."

Peter trembled in his father's strong arms, the terror still haunting his mind. "D-d-don't l-let go."

"I will not let go. What was the dream about, my son?" Kwai Chang gently coaxed.

"I dreamed I fell off the cliff. I tried to hang onto a branch but it broke and I fell. I couldn't stop falling."

"You are safe, my son. It was only a dream. Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

"I can if you play your flute for me, please."

"All right my son. If it will help you sleep. I shall return."

****

"I don't believe it, this can't be Peter."

Peter was brought out of his thoughts by a voice he had not heard in over 15 years.

"I thought he was killed when the Temple was destroyed." The monk that stood before them turned toward Kwai Chang.

"I believed it also, but I could not have been more wrong." Kwai Chang placed a hand across his son's shoulders and pulled him closer.

Peter saw the hint of tears in his father's eyes and knew them to be tears of joy because of him. Peter, however, was puzzled as to the identity of the monk who stood before them.

"Peter, do you not remember Master Timothy?"

Peter's eyes widened as he nodded slowly. "Didn't he keep the archives?" he questioned.

"That's right Peter. I'm glad you remembered," the monk said, a grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to pay my respects. Since Michael Lowery's widow, Rachel, built the shrine, many monks have come. This is my second visit. I came to light a candle in Ping Hai's memory, and in yours. Many students and masters died that terrible night. I had escaped and heard that you had been killed. I am happy to see that you were not. So, what brings you and your father to this place?"

"Just reliving old memories and trying to get caught up. We're going up to the Temple to spend some time up there."

"I have just come from there. It is a shame. Maybe someday it will be rebuilt. I miss that place very much. It just hasn't been the same."

"It was nice seeing you," Peter said. "You've got to come to Chinatown, in Sloanville. We'd love to have you visit."

"Thank you, I may just do that."

Peter and Caine watched as Timothy walked down the path to the shrine.

"Do you wish to visit the shrine my son?"

"I did, but I think I'd rather go on to the Temple. We can visit the shrine another time."

"Very well my son."

It wasn't long before their Temple came into view and Peter’s mind was again flashing back to the past. He could see himself and his father walking the grounds around the Temple and in the garden having their daily talks. Peter’s heart was pounding faster and the excitement of finding out the things he wanted to know for so long made his head spin.

"Peter," his fathers voice brought him back to the present. "What is it you are thinking, my son?"

"I'm thinking that I don't want to wait another moment to get started on the next part of our journey," Peter said.

On the walk to the Temple, Peter had told his father that he had always had a problem with the fact that his father did not know that he was still alive when the Temple was destroyed. Caine knew that now was the time for them to find the answers to questions that only the past could reveal. As they walked, other questions also came to mind. One such question they both shared was, how did Ping Hai keep them apart so they were unable to discover the other was alive? As they grew closer to the entrance of the ruins, father and son discussed how they were going to journey back to the past. It had finally been decided that they would join their chis in order to see what had been done on both sides. To others, it would seem impossible. To Shaolin trained, it would border on the norm. Both knew that nothing was impossible when you believed and when your chi was strong.

Briefly stopping at the base of the steps, Peter turned toward his father and asked, "Dad, are you ready?"

Caine looked around at all the memories that crept through his mind. "Yes, my son. I am ready," Caine replied. "It is time to begin our journey to the past so that we may find the answers to questioned that we both had for so long. Perhaps we may find peace within ourselves and make our paths clearer."

Side by side, they climbed the steps of the Temple, both knowing that they were about to embark on the most important journey that either of them would ever make.

Father and son walked through the ruins and they soon found the place that they believed to be the proper spot to begin. Looking around, they discovered that they were in between the places where each one had fallen. Peter turned toward his right and could see the chard and decaying beam that had nearly crushed him when it fell. To his left was the opening in the wall where he had believed that he'd seen his father turn his back on him. Caine also turned towards his right and saw the space where he had fallen. It was just beyond the opening near the stairs where he had fought Tan. It was also the very same opening where he had once believed he had watched his son take his last breath of life.

They sat themselves lotus on the floor and joined hands as they cleared their minds of everything except the thoughts of where they wanted to be. Suddenly, they were drawn into the vortex as the world spun arouud them. When everything was still again, they opened their eyes to behold what neither of them was really sure that they were ready for. They found themselves back in the past, in the place where both faced terror and pain. This was where their journey would begin.

They found themselves back in the past, in the place where both had faced terror and pain. An explosion rocked the foundations of the Temple. Caine and Peter watched as their past came back to life. They watched as the explosions tore their world apart for the second time. They knew they could not alter the past, but it did not make it any less painful to watch. Smoke, fire, and explosions surrounded them, the screams of the children and monks seemed to come from everywhere. Gunfire echoed through the halls as the invaders took aim and shoot down everyone they could. The pain and the horror was so thick, it controlled the very air that they were breathing. Then they saw the Events that would change both their lives. They watched as Peter tried to run with his younger friend draped across his shoulders. Both witnessed when young Peter fall beneath the beam as it crashed down. Caine, too wrapped up in the pain he was experiencing, did not see Peter's face as he watched his friend's life being taken away. He did not notice the tears that fell freely from his child's eyes as the younger man said, "I am so sorry, I tried to help you, I really tried."

It was no less painful now then it had been then. Tears streamed down Caine's face as he again felt the crushing guilt of not being able to rescue his child. The pain of it all threatened to engulf him once again. The older Caine stood transfixed as he watched the child reach for his father, seeing his younger self turn away as debris rained down upon him as well. They watched as Peter tried to crawl away to safety, but quickly lose his strength and slipped into a pain-filled blackness. Caine could not bare it any longer. He turned from the scene, not seeing Ping Hai enter to rescue his child.

As if in a dream, the image changed to witness what had happened to the younger version of Kwai Chang Caine. The debris that had fallen had blocked the entrance to the courtyard, preventing the priest from returning to rescue his fallen child. A lump formed in Peter's throat as feelings of deep loss threatened to overwhelm him again, despite the knowledge that what he was witnessing had already come to pass and that time had proven that his father had not died. Peter watched as he saw two monks lift the beam off the fallen priest. One of the priests was Michael Lowery, the other was Timothy, the archivist. Peter could not help but feel relieved that his father had been able to escape the destruction, but one question still remained unanswered. How was it that neither one of them had been able to tell that the other had survived?

At that moment, Peter witnessed his father's final escape outside and saw the horror on his face as the Temple exploded further. The father cried out for his son, believing that Peter was still inside the Temple. Suddenly, Peter was aware of the older Caine collapsing beside him, the graief of losing his son weighing his down, ass it had the first time. Peter, abruptly torn fromhis own vision of horror, caught his father and lowered him gently to the ground.

"Father, it's all right. I'm here. We're safe."

"Peter." Anguish colored the older man's voice.

Without warning, they found themselves thrust back through the tunnel of time and they found themselves back in the ruins of the Temple.

"Pop!" Peter reached for his father.

Kwai Chang grabbed hold of his son and clung to him, tears falling freely. "I am sorry that I was unable to help rescue you, my son."

"Pop, it's all right. I'm here."

Kwai Chang Caine did not seem to hear his son's words. It was almost as if he had remained trapped in that shadowy past.

"Pop, snap out of it. We're no longer in the past."

Caine turned his eyes upward and met his son's. Peter could read the anguish there and, at that moment, thought that his heart would burst with love. It was finally clear to him that, had there had been any way at all, his father would have been there for him. He took comfort in knowing that he could be here for his father now.

"Pop."

Slowly Caine returned from that dark place that had nearly consumed him again.

"Peter," Caine's voice was a whisper as he finally registered that his son had not died. "We have a great deal of work to do, my son. We must go back and find the answer."

"I think we're going to need some time before we try that again. I'm exhausted."

Peter laid back on the broken stone floor and rubbed his eyes. It had been an emotional rollercoster, seeing the devastation and the loss had drained him.

"How are you feeling, Pop?"

Kwai Chang sat silently beside his son, then spoke. His voice was still filled with emotion.

"I will need some time to meditate."

'How about we go down to the shrine? Get out of this place for a while. I could use some sunshine."

"An admirable idea, my son."

Peter rose and helped his father to his feet. They looked around one more time then headed back the way they came. They walked in companionable silence, each within their own thoughts. They briefly stopped at Laura's grave and held each other, grateful for the opportunity to feel the warmth of each other's embrace to dispel the pain and fear they had re-experienced.

"Do you think Mom would have been glad to know that everything turned out all right?"

"Your mother was a hopeful person. She would have been pleased to know that each of us had survived to find each other again."

"I'll be glad when we can finally find out how we didn't know the other was alive. I remembered the lesson you were teaching me about knowing you were there, about being still. Do you really think we could have been able to know that the other survived?"

"Yes. But even I do not understand why I could not sense that you were alive when I should have been able to."

"Well, we'll find out the answer later."

Peter and Kwai Chang walked back to Braniff and soon found themselves walking up the road to Rachel Lowery's farm. When the shrine was in sight, they both could not believe what they saw. Monks that they had not seen in many years sat meditating. Some Peter recognized right off, others looked somewhat familiar but then he realized he had not seen them since they were also children. Just then Rachel came out of the house.

"Caine?" A smile spread across her face as Caine and his son came closer.

"Rachel." Caine held out his hands and Rachel entered his embrace for a long hug. She then hugged Peter in return.

"Where's Sam?" Peter asked

"He's in the shrine talking with the monks. Oh, I am so glad you're here. I think Sam wants to become like his father. Every moment of the day, except when he's in school, he spends it talking with the monks that come by. He's even started practicing Kung Fu."

Kwai Chang could sense fear and pride in her voice.

"You are afraid that something might happend to him as it did at the Temple, yet you seem pleased that Sam is interested in becoming Shaolin."

"Yeah, I guess you might say that. Ever since Vance I'm afraid there might be someone else that will come along that's alot worse, like that renegade priest that you both mentioned. I'd like you to talk to Sam, maybe dispel some of this anxiety I'm feeling. I wouldn't mind if he wanted to become a priest, but I'm so afraid of what might happen."

"We shall see what we can do." Caine said. "For now, I must meditate. Peter, we will talk later."

Rachel watched Caine approach the shrine.

"You're father seems sad to me."

"Yeah, well. We just went through an experience that he needs to meditate on. It drained his chi. I wish the Ancient was here. He'd have something to give my father but. . . .only time can help him."

"What happened?" Rachel asked, her curiosity up. She seemed to know what questions to ask.

"It's kind of hard to explain."

"Try me. I lived with a Shaolin priest remember. There are some things that you just have to accept."

Peter let out a small laugh, breathed a deep sigh, and continued. "Well, where do I begin." As Peter explained, they walked back toward the house and the shrine.

The next day brought with it a rain storm. They were not able to return to the Temple but spend the time talking with Sam, Rachel, and the monks. It was a day of reunion and catching up on lives, some good some not so good. Peter learned that some of the remaining students that survived the Temple's destruction had gone on to other things and abandoned their trainng, one in particular, one of Peter's best friends had disappeared. It was rumored that he had gotten involved with one of the other sects that tried to destroy the Shaolin. It was a sad moment for all.

On the third day of their visit the clouds parted and the day was warming into one of those hot sticky affairs. Peter and Kwai Chang rose early and walked up the road to the Temple. Both were ready to face the horror again and to find the answers they still both sought. Peter spread out a blanket on the cold damp stone. They sat facing each other and again joined hands. Again, everything swirled around them and they found themselves back in the past facing the horror, but this time, both were able to remain more detached. This time, they both witnessed Ping Hai coming to young Peter's rescue, and also noticed something that they had not noticed before.

Ping Hai was with two monks both did not recognize. The two unknown monks reached down and lifted the unconscious Peter. They heard Ping Hai say, "Quickly, take him before any one sees."

As they lifted Peter from the debris Ping Hai did a very strange thing. He glided his hands over Peter's body as if to place a spell on him. Then he waved to the monks to take Peter away. On the other side of the Temple the same thing was happening to Caine. Monks were lifting away the blocks that had covered Caine along with the beam that had fallen across his shoulders. They also lifted him to safety. For one brief moment Ping Hai appeared and did the same motions to Caine that he had done to Peter. Peter did not understand, but Caine, at that moment, did.

"Father, what was Ping Hai doing?" Peter asked, using the formal word that spoke of lessons learned.

Kwai Chang placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder and replied, "Peter, Ping Hai must have used his powers to place a strong shield around each of us to prevent us from sensing the others chi."

At that moment a suspiscion rose within Kwai Chang, but rather than voice it, he continued to try to understand the events that they were witnessing for the second time.

"Between our anguish and this shield, we were unable to reach out to each other. Each of us believed what was told to us because we could not sense the other's presence and we had no reason to disbelieve our friends. Ping Hai some how must have known what was about to happen and took steps to save our lives. When the Temple exploded for the last time, Ping Hai said you had gone back in to save others. I was so sure that you were in there that I never again entered the ruins. After Ping Hai had taken me to your grave, he seemed reluctant for me to go, and yet, he tried to set up a time when we would meet again. I believed there was nothing left for me, so the next day I left to find your essence and be joined with you again. From there, we were taken farther and farther apart as time went on."

Within Kwai Chang's mind he thought, 'Of course, being also a Shambhala Master, he would have been told what to do to save our lives. If he had not, Peter would have died and the line of Kwai Chang and all Shaolin after would not exist.' The words, "The last shall save the first" echoed through his thoughts. 'Peter, you had to live. You are more important than you could ever know.' Then a question came to mind that he would have to have answered later, and he knew just who to ask. With this last unvoiced thought, a strong wind came up and engulfed father and son, and they were suddenly, tossed back through time and found themselves back in the ruins of the old Temple.

As they embraced, Caine smiled and said "I have always known that you were a special child. From the first day that I held you in my arms, I knew you were my life. I love you my son, with all my heart."

"I love you too, Pop, more than I can ever find words."

"Words are not needed my son."

As they walked through the Temple, they were ready to begin the next part of their journey, but where would that be?

Peter and Caine did not have much time to think about where to go next. Just as they were about to exit the Temple, every thing began to rumble and shake.

"Oh no!" yelled Peter. "An earthquake!"

They tried their best to get out of the Temple, but it was too late. It was as if the floor opened up and swallowed them. It felt like a repeat of what they had just experienced. When the quake stopped and everything began to settle, Peter and Caine both found themselves in a pit of darkness. Caine was the first to awake and find himself covered with loose concrete and rubbish. He slowly removed himself from the debris and assessed his own body for damage and found only bruises and a few scrapes though his lungs burned from the dust that had been raised. He coughed deeply to clear his chest. Then panic set in as he realized what had heppened.

"Peter!" he cried out loud <cough-cough>. "Peter, please answer!" Caine was so upset he could not even reach out to find Peter's chi. He feared the worst. Suddenly, Caine felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Pop, calm down it's me," Peter said in a calming voice.

Relief washed through Caine like a tidal wave and all he could do was grab Peter and hold him.

"Are you hurt, my son?" Caine pulled back and tried to look into his son's eyes and send out his chi, though he was far from calm. The thought of losing Peter had blocked out all sense of him and he suddenly understood just how he could have believed he had lost his son all those many years ago.

"I'm all right. I rolled away as soon as my feet hit solid ground. Pop, where are we?" Peter asked in a very soft voice.

"I do not know," replied Caine. "I never knew there was an underground tunnel in the Temple."

"Maybe that's how Vance and Tan got in. I've always wondered about that. How are we going to get out of here?" Peter asked.

"We will have to do a little . . . detective work?" replied Caine. "You should be good at this my son," Caine added with a little smile in his voice.

"Very funny, Pop. Just what I need, a Dungeons and Dragons comic adventure."

Suddenly, Caine realized that perhaps this was how Ping Hai had been able to removed all of the important books and artifacts of Shambhala, as well as other items from the Temple, to safety. This was going to be an interesting challenge. As they walked through the tunnels they seemed to be going in circles. Then, from out of nowhere, there was a light. As they walked closer, their hearts pounded faster as they sensed something very powerful ahead. When they reached the entry of a room, their eyes beheld something that they would never forget.

The room was filled with statues of their beloved Buddha, as well as books and tapestries, and was illuminated by scores of candles. They also sensed an unseen presence that was full of light and warmth. Both Peter and Kwai Chang stood in absolute silence as they felt this presence come closer. Though neither knew what was happening, they felt no fear. Suddenly, they received their answer as the four monks of Shambhala appeared. Without a word, only hand signals, the figures led to 3what proved to be their exit from beneath the Temple. As the monks bowed to father and son, a silent understanding passed among them that nothing would ever be said about this meeting. It was clear to Peter that his father understood more than he did about what had just happened. Caine, being a Shambhala Master himself, could communicate with the monks without Peter even knowing what had happened.

When they exited the tunnel, they were in for an even bigger surprise. They found both monks and the people of Braniff working together, trying to find a way to get to them. It seemed that they had witnessed two miracles in one day. Perhaps it was really possible, after all these years, for the Shaolin to be accepted here after all. Maybe some day the Temple could be rebuilt and all the people of Braniff could live in harmony. The feelings that Peter and Caine were sharing at that moment were more powerful than either of them had ever expected from this journey; and they were not even finished yet.

"Boy what next?" asked Peter.

"I do not know. But I can not wait to find out," replied Caine, as the two of them stood with their arms around each other's shoulders, watching the people work together.

As a new day started, the sun was bright and the town of Braniff was alive with people. Everyone was cleaning up from yesterday's earthquake, though the actual damage had been a lot less than expected. As the clean-up came to an end, the townspeople decided that they were in need of a party. It would be a spontaneous day of celebration and joy. Since the only really serious damage had been done to the Temple, the town's civic center, and a few stores downtown, they decided that the best place to have the party was at the Shrine that Rachel Lowery had built. Seeing the monks working along side of everyone else during the clean-up had made many of the townspeople realize that they had missed their calming and healing presence. It was fitting that the party be located in a place that was meant to bring about healing. Some townspeople found themselves looking wistfully in the direction of the Temple.

Many of the original monks who had survived the Temple's destruction, and who lived in the outlying areas, had arrived earlier when word had spread that the Caines were once again together in Braniff. They wanted to see for themselves that father and son were reunited. They, too, had stayed and assisted in the clean-up and the preparation for the celebration. The joy of the town was everywhere. After all were gathered and prayers and blessings had been said, Peter and Kwai Chang knew it was time to continue on their journey. They said their goodbyes to all and headed east, despite the rapid approach of dusk. As the Temple came briefly into view, Peter turned and looked back with a funny feeling that some day he would return.

"Where to now Pop?" Peter asked.

"Wherever our feet take us, my son." Caine replied. "The journey is not planned, it just happens."

They walked for what seemed like forever to Peter. Kwai Chang looked back to see that his son had fallen far behind. He could sense his weariness and realized that maybe it would be best that they stop and camp for the night anyway. They probably would not have reached their destination until well after midnight.

Kwai Chang stopped and waited for his son to catch up. It wasn't long before Caine spotted a roadside picnic area where they could rest and light a small fire. After a light meal of fruit, bread, and water, Peter asked his father about where he had first wound up after leaving the Temple.

"For many months I wandered from town to town, just passing through, never staying for more than a few days. You will see the first place that I stayed for a short while, my son."

Then Caine asked Peter, "Where did you go from the Temple?"

Peter sat back with his legs outstretched, not sure that he wanted to reveal too much at this time. Though this journey was suppose to be one of discovery, he wasn't so sure about reliving certain memories, one in particular that seemed to be rising toward the surface as they drew closer to their unknown destination. It was as if something beyond his reach was triggering its return. Still, his father did have a right to know just what happened, despite his own reluctance to reveal too much.

"There's really not that much to tell. At first, I was sent to the next town where there was a small orphanage, but they didn't have room for me, so they sent me further east to a larger place. I learned later it was because they thought it was best to get me away from "my cult," Peter gestered with his hands, forming quote signs in the air. "At the larger orphanage I was sent to, they tried to place me with a bunch of different people but it never lasted." Peter's thoughts drifted for a brief moment to a particular couple that had wanted to "adopt" him. He had not thought of that couple in years, and silently wished that this particular memory had remained buried. A shutter ran through his body that did not go unnoticed. Peter continued his tale, trying to sound nonchalant, "Anyway, they always thought I was strange or too different and sent me away. Finally, I wound up in Pineridge. They thought I was a bad kid, maybe I was. I tried to shut the world out and to do that I had to get tough. I guess I got too tough"

Kwai Chang listened to Peter's story, but he could tell that his son was being evasive and not revealing the entire truth. There wasn't enough information in what Peter was providing and Kwai Chang could also tell that his son's chi was disturbed. Without Peter realizing it, Kwai Chang had picked up on his thoughts, and a couple that had come to his son's mind had disturbed him greatly. Kwai Chang knew enough when not to push. Whatever was disturbing Peter, Kwai Chang knew his son would talk about it when he was ready.

For a while, there was nothing but silence as the two Caines sat and watched the fire, both lost in their own thoughts. For a little while longer, they shared pleasant memories of sitting together by another fire long ago and talking. Peter recalled again the lesson of the fire and his father making a bamboo flute.

"Whatever happened to that flute you were making?"

"I gave it to someone in my travels, a young man who needed it more than I at the time. I believe he was an actor. He was starring in a movie called the Silent Flute. He played a blind man who wore a bell on his right foot. He showed great promise in Kung Fu. He understood the Tao quite well, and in another life, could have been a Shaolin."

"I didn't know you saw any movies."

"Not many, only those that were most instructional in martial arts, though there were very few back then."

Not long after, Peter began to yawn.

"Perhaps it is best that we turn in," Kwai Chang suggested.

"Who will keep watch? I wouldn't want anyone disturbing us during the night," Peter said, automatically falling into cop mode.

"Do not worry, my son. No one will disturb us." Kwai Chang waved his left arm and the fire was extinguished. "Goodnight, my son."

"Goodnight, Pop."

It had been a long time since Peter had slept out under the stars. At first, getting comfortable was not easy. Every time he would turn over, it felt as if he found the same rock in his back, in his hip, or his ribs. Finally, exhaustion settled in and he just let sleep take over. It did not hurt that his father had come over and begun stroking his right cheek, helping him to relax and letting him know that everything was going to be all right. Unfortunately, things were not as well as they seemed. Soon the nightmare started in.

***Nightmare***

It started with the voices.

"Your father was a heathen!"

"Only God can save your soul!

"Forget him, he's dead!

Then the faces came; the priest from the Holy Cross Orphanage, Mr. and Mrs. James Morrison, and young Peter himself; running. Crosses floated in mid air all around him and he suddenly found himself back in the couple's basement.

"No!" Peter shouted, struggling while unseen hands held him back. He watched in horror as the flames rose.

"You no longer need these. They are from your old life, a life that only the devil would have condoned. A cleansing is required."

Peter watched as his gray student gi was thrown into the fireplace, followed by the small wooden Buddha his father had given him for his sixth birthday. As the flames burned away the remnants of his old life, the beating began. His shirt was stripped off and he forced to lie face down over a chair. His arms were tied to the chair legs as his eyes remained riveted to the flames. With each stroke of the wicker cane, Peter tried to hold back the tears.

"Repent! Confess your sins so God may cleanse you. Repent!"

Wave after wave of pain shot through him. Eventually, he could no longer hold back the tears. As the voice faded into the background, the adult continued to react.

*****End of Nightmare****

"No!" Peter thrashed about trying to fight off the demons that haunted his dreams. Suddenly, he felt arms encircling him. He tried to push them away, but they held him tightly.

"Peter. Wake up. You are dreaming."

The voice cut through the nightmare and Peter realized that he was no longer that frightened, angry young boy.

"Pop." Peter's voice was breathless. Tears stung his eyes as the words suddenly tumbled from his lips. "They took everything from me. My clothes, my Buddha, they burned them."

"Who burned them, my son?"

"They did." Peter pushed his father away, embarrassed at his uncontrolled display of emotions.

Kwai Chang Caine tried to reach for his son, but Peter brought up his hands, not wanting the physical contact right now.

"It . . .it . . .was ..jus . .just a dream, Pop," Peter stammered. "It's nothing."

"Peter, it was not nothing. Please, tell me. It is the only way the demons will disappear."

"Not right now, Pop!" Peter's words came across harsh, though he had not meant them to sound that way. "I'm sorry, Dad. I can't talk about it right now."

"Very well, Peter. I will light a fire and make some tea. Then you may go back to sleep." Kwai Chang sighed deeply. 'Whatever you may be facing, my son, please know that I am here for you,' thought Caine.

After Peter finished his tea, Caine coaxed his son to lay down. He could sense the exhaustion setting in and he wanted Peter to get as much rest as possible. They still had a long way to go on their journey. Slowly, Peter drifted off again but it was not a restful sleep. As Caine sat watching his son toss and turn, he tried to send out his chi to try to discover what it was that disturbed his son so badly, but Peter's mind was so filled with fear and anger that Caine could not get through.

Caine pulled out one of his flutes from his case, deciding that perhaps if he played, whatever nightmare his son would soon be facing, he might keep it at bay and even relieve his own anxiety and fears that seemed to be rising to the surface in himself. As Caine began to play, the tune that emerged was haulting and unsteady, becoming more agitated and angry as he continued to play. It spoke of a fear and grief that had yet to be faced, instead of the usual calm and serenity that was suggested by his other pieces Caine stopped playing and lowered the flute. Grasping it tightly, he drew in a deep breath and shuddered. He did not know where the tune had come from. The calm that he had been seeking did not want to come. Instead, a sudden fear had entered his soul that he knew had to do with Peter. He could not, however, tell if it had been from the past that they had re-experienced or from some future event that they would be facing. All he could do was wait and watch until each event unfolded.

Caine sat watching his son all night longbut, not matter what he tried, he could not find it in himself. The guilt that he felt would not release him. He would wait until morning and try talking to Peter again, or maybe just wait until Peter was willing to tell the story on his own. Caine did not know if he had the strength to wait. This journey was beginning to take them in a direction that he was not certain he was prepared to face. How will it go from here? Knowing that only time would tell, Caine closed his eyes, breathed in the cool night air, and sat silently waiting for the dawn.

As the new dawn came, Peter opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The first thing that he spotted was his father making tea by the fire. When he got up and walked to his dad to say good morning, he noticed that his father looked very tired.

"Morning Pop" Peter said as he came up behind his father.

To his shock, his father turned around very quickly as if he had not heard Peter's approach. Usually it was his father who startled him.

"Pop, are you okay?" Peter asked, concerned.

"I am fine, my son," Caine replied.

Peter, with his developing Shaolin senses, could tell that his father was not being truthful, but he did not want to push the issue so he just let it go. He would find out later what was wrong when his dad was ready. Changing the subject, Peter tried to find out where their journey would lead them.

"Well, Pop, where do we go from here?"

Caine, unsure of how to handle the subject from the previous night, decided to wait until Peter was more relaxed.

"Well," Caine replied, "there is a town called Paradise not far from here, where I spent some time after leaving the Temple."

Peter's face suddenly paled and he looked like he was about to faint. Caine ran to his son and held him tight until he could help him sit down.

"What is wrong, my son?" As Caine reached out with his chi to try to strengthen Peter's, he received the shock of his life. He sensed a fear and anger in Peter that was stronger than he could ever remember feeling in any one person before.

"You were there. You were in the same town as I was and you still did't know I was alive. I was there with the Devil and my father the priest could not help me."

"Peter, you were there? That is the town you were in?" Shock and surprise registered on Kwai Chang's face.

He knew now that it was very important that he get Peter to this town, as it might be the only way for him to find out what was tormenting his son. Something terrible had obviously happened there. Most terrible of all was the fact that Caine had not known that his son still lived and may have only been a few yards from where he had also stayed.

Caine watched his son and could sense the deep disturbance in his chi. Facing the destruction of the Temple had not been easy, but what lay ahead frightened his son more. Caine could not help but recall what his son had said in the wee hours of the night from the nightmare that had disturbed him.

'They took everything from me. My clothes, my Buddha, they burned them.'

The words were those of a frightened, angry child whose world had been ripped from him. The very idea nearly caused Caine's heart to break. Who were 'they' and what had 'they' done to cause his child so much pain? He believed they had gotten past the pain and anger. Where was this pain coming from? What ever it was, he resolved put an end to it once and for all, no matter what.

Caine felt an anger rising within him like none he had ever felt before. It was far from Shaolin. Rather, it was the anger of a protective father, rapidly strengthening, and it frightened him. It was an anger, if released, could cause great harm. He had spent most of his life learning to control that anger, to embrace it, and let it go. Was this the true test of the kind of man he really was, or the type of father he was? Putting aside his own concerns for the moment, he prepared himself to face the greatest challenge of this journey: how to get Peter to Paradise?

Kwai Chang turned back to see that his son was more than a dozen paces behind him. Not only could he sense the disturbance in his son's chi, but he could also sense that Peter had erected a familiar emotional barrier. Kwai Chang could not tell if it was because he was angry with him or about the mysterious events that had happened in Paradise. He could not help but recall his son's angry condemnation.

"You were there. You were in the same town as I was and you still didn't know I was alive. I was there with the Devil and my father the priest could not help me."

The words fueled a burning anguish that could not be quenched. Guilt filled Kwai Chang for not recognizing that his son had still been alive. Then the guilt turned back into anger; anger at Ping Hai. It occurred to him that Ping Hai's spell had continued long after the destruction of the Temple, although exactly how long remained uncertain. Though Caine knew the truth regarding Ping Hai's actions, it now looked like the spell had caused them both suffered needlessly, Peter more than himself. As a Shaolin, he knew the risks and had faced pain before. His relationship with Sabrina had left him open and raw, but he had found comfort and love in the arms of Laura Carradine, and with Laura, and together they had created a wonderful child that he had never dreamed would be his. Now, his son had grown into a man, and yet, was still a child in many respects. A child who should never have had to face the trials that he had, a child who had been vulnerable to anyone out in the world, waiting to prey on an innocent child's dreams and soul.

As they neared the cause of all their current pain, Caine made a decision. All of his years of Shaolin training meant nothing if he could not help his own son release his pain. He would do whatever he had to do in order to put an end to this agony his son was reliving.

Caine felt a wave of evil wash over him as they came within view of Paradise. He could see the fear in Peter's eyes, and knew that his son sesed it as well.

"Peter," Caine called. "What is it that you are feeling?"

"I do not know for sure," Peter replied. "It is almost like the past and the present are one, as if the passage of time has had no effect here." Peter shook his head, not wanting to believe that what had been here, now nearly 20 years ago, was still present.

"But that's impossible," Peter said more to himself, not realizing his father heard him. Suddenly, a strong rush of fear, hidden away for so many years, threatened to block out all awareness that he had of his father. It beckoned him to return, not to trust those that were not of the true light. It reached out to him, beyond the grave, radiating a coldness that held no promise of warmth. Then another voice intruded, gentle and full of warmth and comfort, tryingto brush away the icy coldness that threatened his soul.

"Peter?" Caine gently queried. He knew that he had to keep his son talking, to try to get to the root of his son's fear.

Peter turned at his voice and stared toward his father, pain-filled eyes not really seeing him. Caine could sense the evil trying to surround his son, but he could not sense its source. Only Peter could tell him what was happening.

"Peter, please," his father begged. "Tell me what it is that has done this to you. Please, do not shut me out. This is what our journey is all about, to discover what happened to us during our time apart. How can we do this if we are not willing to trust each other, my son."

The urgency and concern in his tone finally broke through to Peter. As tears started to fall freely, Peter allowed himself to be taken into his fathers arms and held.

"Father, please help me," Peter cried. "Don't let them take me."

"You know I will always help you. You are my son. Together we will explore this nightmare and bring it to an end."

Caine decided that they should stop for the day so that they could both rest and talk. Whatever was trying to reach for his son, going to Paradise at this time would put Peter in more danger than Caine wanted to risk. He needed to know the reason for this fear and what kind of evil they would be facing. Caine led his son some distance from the road and found an abandoned barn. There he lit a fire then pulled four candles from his duffel bag.

Peter's eyes questioned without words as to where the candles came from.

"Rachel gave them to me before we left. They are from the shrine."

Caine motioned for Peter to sit near the fire and proceeded to set the candles on the ground forming a square some distance away, each candle being placed at the apex of each direction. While inside the square, he lit each starting in the east, then south, west, and finally, north. Caine could sense the evil backing away as the wards were set to protect both he and his son. Secure in the knowledge that they were both safe, at least as long as the candles burned, Caine prepared some tea and a hasty meal. He urged his son to eat to keep his strength up. When they had finished their meal, Caine waited. It wasn't long before Peter began his story about the people that he could find no other words for except the couple from hell. It was a story that would chill Caine to the bone for many years to come, and it invoked a feeling in him that was completely foreign to his nature: pure hated. It was time to put this part of their journey to an end.

Peter stared into the fire, the glow of its embers giving him little comfort. With the protective wards set, he knew he would not be able to avoid his father's questions for long. Perhaps it would be best to let him know just what had happened to him that first year they had been apart. Thinking about that time, Peter realized that his time at Pineridge had been a picnic compared to what that couple had done to him, or at least the husband. Peter's awareness of what the wife may have done was sketchy at best. It was as if she had faded into the background. Peter had also realized that it had been one of the many nightmares that he could not talk about, even to Paul. He could feel the tears threaten to erupt. He swallowed the lump in his throat, stared into the fire to focus his thoughts, then began his tale.

"It started soon after I arrived at Paradise. A couple, the same age that you were, came into the orphanage looking to 'adopt' a child." Peter spat out the word. "Only this wasn't a simple case of adoption. Turned out the 'priest' was selling kids, selectively. When he discovered where I had come from, he thought it was for the best that I be the one to go with this couple. He said it was to cleanse my soul to live a more christian and wholesome life. I learned later that the orphanage had been closed down. Someone had uncovered the activites of the priest's activities, but it was too late for me. The couple had already left town, with me in tow, heading for parts unknown."

Caine's face paled and he closed his eyes. He could feel himself swaying from the shock and quickly tried to recenter his thoughts to cotinue to focus on what his son was saying, but he coud not help think how he had just missed his son by a mere few days. He had been in town at the same time, but when he had learned of the priest's activities, he could not stop the selling of one more child by the man. He had had no clue that the child that had been sold had been his own son. If only he had known . . . but perhaps he had. He had sensed the fear of a child that had felt like the essence of his son. But believing that Peter was gone, he had dismissed it and acted far too late. Anguish filled him as he realized that he could have done something sooner if only he had recognized that fact.

"Pop? Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Caine shrugged off the regrets and said in a hoarse whisper, "I am all right my son, please continue."

Peter paused in his narrative, thinking ahead, and giving a grateful prayer to the source of all things for the first man who had probably saved his life. He had never told Paul who that man had been, perhaps he should have. By then, he had become an angry frightened teenager just trying to stay alive. Maybe one day he would.

"Anyway, I somehow ended up in Pineridge and the rest was history."

"Peter, you must tell me the full story and what it was this couple did to you. To understand the evil we will be facing, we must know it for what it is."

"I know Pop. It's just so damn hard to face. You just do not know what they tried to do."

"What did they try to do, my son?" Kwai Chang questioned gently.

Peter would not answer his father at first. He hugged his arms tightly around himself and shivered, despite the heat that was coming from the fire.

"They tried to take my identity," Peter whispered, "and my soul." With those words, the memories of that time played out with such clarity that Peter could no longer deny their accuracy. He continued his tale as if his father wasn't there, reliving every moment as if it was that very same day and time.

*****Flashback*****

"Congratulations, Mr. & Mrs. Morrison, Peter is yours."

Peter stood off to the side, wide eyed with shock. Theirs?!? What did Fr. Mallory mean? He thought he was just being fostered, not adopted. Peter's heart sank. Any thought of returning to his old life was now a memory. Or was it? Perhaps this couple would let him still become a priest like his father, if he asked.

"Peter?"

The young preteen was shaken out of his thoughts.

"You may gather your things. Mr. & Mrs. Morrison will be expecting you to leave with them."

"I'm sorry, Fr. Mallory. I'll go at once." Peter left quickly to gather his things, not hearing the following conversation that took place.

"I can see the boy is very obedient." said Mr. Morrison. "That is very good."

"Oh, yes. It is obvious the boy was taught some obedience by his 'father,'" the priest said, the final word dripping with distain.

"Who was his father?" asked Mrs. Morrison.

"One of those cult leaders, those Shaolin. I understand the temple that he lived in had been destroyed, by the townspeople from what I heard. I, for one, would not want their kind coming into my town. Thank the Lord."

"Well, I am sure my wife and I can help save this poor boy's soul from any influences that his father might have had. After all, he is dead. Peter's old life is gone. I am sure we can provide him with a new one in God's light."

As the conversation ended, Peter came through the door carrying a pillowcase stuffed with his old clothes and a few precious things that he had saved from the Temple.

"Come, my son. Let's go home."

"Yes, Mr. Morrison," Peter answered quietly.

"Now enough of that Mr. Morrison stuff. You may call me father, after all, you are my son now, Peter Morrison."

Peter did not say a word. Though his name had been changed without his consent, in his heart, he would always be Peter Caine.

"Your father was a heathen!"

"Only God can save your soul!

"Forget him, he's dead!

"No!" Peter shouted, struggling while others held him. He watched in horror as the flames rose.

"You no longer need these. They are from your old life, a life that only the devil would have condoned. A cleansing is required."

Peter watched as his gray student gi was thrown into the fireplace, followed by the small wooden Buddha his father had given him for his sixth birthday. Finally his books, Confucius Book of Analects, The Tao Te Ching, and the Hua Hu Ching were consigned to the flames as well. As the fire burned away the remnants of his old life, the beating began. His shirt was stripped off and he was leaned over a chair. As his arms were tied to the sturdy woooden legs, as his eyes remained riveted to the flames. With each stroke of the wicker cane, Peter tried to hold back the tears.

"Repent! Confess your sins so God may cleanse you. Repent!"

Each wave of pain that shot through him felt like the fire that was consuming his memories until finally, he could no longer hold back the tears.

"You can't do that. It's all I had left of him." Peter sobbed out his anguish at the further loss of what the Morrison's took from him.

"Why would you want to keep those things? You're father abandoned you.

He is dead. You are mine now. If I catch you using the name of Caine, you will burn like those things there. Caine murdered Abel. It is a hated name among God fearing people. Your name is no longer Caine, remember that."

Another round of beating commenced and Peter shuddered with fear at the thought of his own flesh burning and blistering like the little statue now a blackened mass. Peter continued to watch the flames in silence until he succombed to the pain. 'Father, help me. Tell me what I must do?' Peter pleaded within his mind, but no strong gentle voice came.

Soon he found himself thrown in a room that would become his prison more than a bedroom.

"You will remain here for one week with only bread and water for your meal and the good book for company. After that time, I want you to recite the story of Genesis, word for word. If you do not, you will again be placed in here for another week."

He then heard the key being turned in the door, locking him in.

Peter stayed sitting on the floor by the bed, his back a pain-filled, bloody mass of welts. Tears continued to stream silently down as he reached under the mattress and pulled out his father's ceremonial dagger he had saved from the Temple. It was all that he had left. He was glad that they had not found this. His hand clutched the hilt of the small sword and he could feel the cold metal against the skin of his chest. For the umptheenth time he wished that the flames of the Temple had truly taken his life instead of taking the life of his father. New dreams haunted him, dreams of his father having turned away when he had called out to him. He knew they couldn't be real and yet, he did feel, in some ways, that his father had abandoned him to this outside world. Perhaps the Morrisons were right. His old life was gone. He needed to begin again, but he still was not ready to give everything up. His eyes fell on the small book that laid on the bed as he grasped the dagger. He picked it up and leafed through its pages, and then threw the book across the room. How could they expect him to believe in their God when they themselves did not believe in mercy? All that Peter had left was his honor and the oath that he had made at his father's grave. It was all he had to live for. He would endure whatever he had to for that sake.

"Father, why have you abandoned me?" Peter cried as he placed his head down on the bed and wept as he fully realized his situation. Sleep finally took him only to bring him into the nightmares.

*****End of Flashback*****

"Father, why have you abandoned me?" Peter cried without realizing he had spoken the words out loud. He had regressed to that frightened young boy whose life had been shattered.

Kwai Chang's heart was breaking. How could they have done this to his son, he raged within his own mind. It was they who had created the nightmares that plagued his son's dreams. No more the Shaolin, the father vowed to seek vengeance for the harm that had been done. Kwai Chang gathered his son in his arms and rocked him, trying to sooth away the pain, but comfort would not come. His own tears mingled with the soft rain as it fell through the cracks in the roof of the barn. It was a testament to the pain that both were feeling. Kwai Chang held on to his son and also cried.

As Caine held Peter and tried to comfort him, sleep finally claimed his son. It was a restless sleep, one again filled with nightmares. Exhausted, Caine laid next to his son and he too, fell into a sleep filled with haunting dreams of terror and loss. Caine did not know how long he had slept when suddenly, he jumped to his feet. He could sense the lingering presence of an evil force around him that he had not felt in many years. He looked around with narrowed eyes and suddenly realized that the protective candles had burned down and were nothing but pools of wax. How long they had been unprotected was not certain. Caine again spun around and suddenly realized, "Peter!"

His son was gone. There was not even a sign of his chi to be felt. Caine could feel a grip of panic take over his being.

"Where is my child?" screamed Caine to the open air.

As Caine was about to leave the barn, he went to grab his bag and, on the spot that he had last seen his son, found an old worn bible with a note attached to it.

"Caine,

When last we met I swore that someday you and I would meet again priest. You may remember me as John Morrison. But there is no need for me to hide behind an alias any longer. You will soon know the truth, priest.

God has granted me the means for vengeance. When I got out of jail and came back to this place, I knew the Lord was leading me into his work again. You and I will meet again soon, but in the mean time I thank you for bringing my son back to me. This time I will not fail to do my job with either of you. Did you truly believe that I would be that easy to sneak up on? I have eyes everywhere. Watch your back Shaolin, for when I am ready, your time will end. For now, I must deal with my son.

The Deacon

Caine's head spun. That name was like an nightmare out of the past. In his grandfather's journal, he had written about a man who called himself The Deacon. He, too, used God's words for his unholy deeds. H recalled the time when his grandfather made an incredible journey to ask for his aid to help his grandmother and father from being murdered at the hands of that particular man. Thinking about that time, he brought the man's face in the forefront of his mind and again recalled when he had last met Johm Morrison. He was struck at how Morrison looked exactly like the Deacon of his grandfather's past. When Caine had confronted the man nearly 20 years ago, Morrison had claimed to be the grandson of The Deacon and was continuing his grandfather's work. At the time, it had not even occurred to him that Morrison was more than what he seemed. What was it that the man had said to him back then? Something about Peter?

*****Flashback*****

Canyon Springs, Wyoming, 19__

"So, we meet again where this should have ended long ago. Your grandfather should have died, priest."

"How is it that you know of my grandfather?" Caine asked.

"That is not important. I should be impressed, I was fooled by the likeness. But the past no longer matters. I am here, now, to finish God's work. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. I have news for you Caine, your son did not die in the destruction of the Temple. He is mine. I have saved him from your heathen ways, and you will never have him back."

"I do not believe you. My son is dead. I saw him fall."

"Believe what you will. I have spoken the truth. Now it is your turn to die priest."

*****End of Flashback****

Caine's breath caught in his throat and shame filled him. The man had told him the truth, and in his grief at that time, Caine had not wanted to listen. He had only believed what he had seen with his own eyes, but in truth, he had not listened to his own heart. And now, Peter had been taken from him again. This man actually believed that Peter was his.

The air around Caine become so thick that it seemed as though he could not even get any into his lungs. It threatened to choke the life out of him. Caine forced himself to breathe deeply, to calm his chi, but the calmness eluded him.

"You will not have him!" Caine again shouted out his rage to the empty air. "He is not yours. By the power and light of all that is goodness, please give me the wisdom to do what I must to save my son. What ever happens to me is not important, but please, do not let this Devil hurt my child again."

Caine fell to his knees, the rage swelling in him, causing his head to spin. He had not felt so much rage since Tan had again tried to destroy him and his son. After a few minutes, he got to his feet and pulled himself together. He knew what he had to do and it was time for him to do it. The time had come for the Priest to face the Devil.

Caine walked out of the barn and on a journey of his own. The journey to save his son's soul. To bring his child home where they both belonged.

The Deacon sensed Caine's approach. 'Not here,' he thought. 'It must not be in Paradise.' The Deacon turned toward the unconscious form that laid on the now too small bed.

"So, he truly is your father after all." He spoke to the unconscious young man as if he could hear every word. "He did not die as everyone thought. I had found it odd the first time he defeated me that the wound I had inflicted on him could heal so quickly, until I learned who he truly was."

The Deacon thought back to the days he had spent in Jail.

***** Flashback - Canyon Springs, 1905 ****

The Deacon sat staring blankly into space, talking out loud to no one in particular. Madeline Palmer, his ex-wife and Doctor of Canyon Springs, rubbed some salve on the bruises that had been inflicted by Caine. She examined his burned hand and rubbed a small amount of butter on it to coat the burn.

"I cannot understand it. I shot him. I saw the wound. He was helpless."

"Apparently he healed faster than you thought Deacon." Madeline did not want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing that she, too, had been puzzled. She had seen the wound that had been inflicted on Caine. But when hehad rescued her, Lilly, and her son Matthew, the wound had not been there.

"No, I'm missing something here. I shot him. I saw the blood."

"Maybe that wasn't Caine but someone who looked like him. I'm through here. Unfortunately, you're going to live. Sheriff? I'm ready."

Sheriff Harden opened the cell door and let Maddie out.

"Maybe he came from the future," Maddie said as a parting shot.

The Deacon sat brooding, trying to figure out just what had happened at Trask's ranch. Then Caine's words came to him like a revelation.

"You were the one that shot my grandfather," Caine had said. Then the man had raised his open palm toward him and The Deacon's gun had glowed red, burning his hand.

So, the heathen he had fought was somehow Caine's grandson. How was it possible that he could appear here? Suddenly, the Deacon realized that Maddie's parting words were more true than she could ever know.

"Caine, when I get out of here, your grandson will pay for my humiliation. I will find a way to reach him. As God is my witness, I will find a way."

*****End Flashback*****

The Deacon finished his homily as the young man remained in darkness.

"I did find a way. Just this once, I made a pact with the devil to take my revenge. When I learned that you were his son, and thought your father dead, I had here a perfect opportunity. By taking you away from his influence and teaching you new lessons, and making you my son, I'd hoped that my revenge would be complete. But instead, you had to spoil those plans by running away. If there was any chance of getting you returned, I had to be prepared. I needed another who was more willing to cooperate. Only I had not counted running into him a second time. When he said his name was Caine, it finally made sense to me. The man I had fought, the one who had no wound, was his grandson. He had confessed as much to me, but it didn't sina in until later. I was surprised that he didn't recognize me that second time we met. That was the same night you ran away. He may have stopped me then, but he isn't going to stop me now. Too bad about the woman that I was with during that time. She ended up dying in a jail cell from a knife wound. She was far more controllible than my first wife. But I wasn't going to let that stop me from gaining my revenge. I shall finish what I started, by killing him and punishing you. Then afterward, we shall see if I let you live. You have betrayed me by returning to that heathen. We shall see if his powers are strong enough to defeat mine. There is no reason to hide now. I have waited for this moment for a long time."

As soon as The Deacon finished his unheard speech, another entered the room. The man was large. His throat bore a scar that told of a terrible price.

"Pick him up and place him in the van. Secure him so he's not able to escape. Then, give him this. It will keep him asleep for several hours. I have some unfinished business that needs to be taken care of."

As Caine entered the center of town, he could not get the note out of his mind. Was the man truly the Deacon? It did not seem possible. Still, there was something about the man that made Caine turn to ice inside and he again thought back on the day he met John Morrison. Something in what the man had said still bothered him. He had spoken as if they had met before, but Caine was certain during that time that they had not. What had changed? How was it that Morrison knew him or, stranger yet, his grandfather, and how was it that he knew that Peter was his son?

Caine knew, that in order to find the answer, he would have to look into that past. Even though he did not wish to take away any time from searching for his son, he needed to find the answer to his questions. Perhaps in this way, he could also calm his chi enough to where he might sense his son's chi as well. He found a place in the park where he could be alone. He sat under a tree by a pond and let himself drift back, back to a time he had hoped he would never again remember. As his chi drifted, suddenly, he stopped. Laughter filled the air and he could feel the evil all around him.

"Shaolin, do you think that you can defeat me again? I have waited since your father was a child to pay you back for what you did to me. When we last met twenty years ago, I tried to tell you that your son lived, but your own denial set you on a path away from your child. Now he is mine again and you will never have him back. You may have defeated me back then, but you will not defeat me now. Come along Shaolin, I will be waiting at the same place we last did battle."

The Deacon allowed Caine to see that place and Caine's eyes became wide. He should have known. If it had been possible for him to go to the past, then it should have been possible for the past to come to his time.

"I will give you three days to get there. After which time, if you do not arrive, your son will pay the price. I will look forward to our battle. And just to make it interesting . . ."

A shot rang out. It came from a rifle that had not been fired since 1905. The bullet tore through Caine's shoulder, knocking him backwards to the ground.

"And no cheating. You send in your grandson, your son will die instantly. I will know the difference."

"If it is a battle you want, Devil, then it is a battle you shall have," Caine struggled with his words through clenched teeth, trying to clamp down on the pain. "I will free my son from you once and for all. Your evil will no longer have a hold on my family and your life force will come to an end. This I swear by all that is good and light. Good will win over evil, light will overcome the darkness. I will meet you and regain my son."

Caine tried to rise, but the pain was too great. He fell back upon the grass, breathing hard. He had to find some way to free Peter no matter what it cost him. Kwai Chang reached out with his chi.

*I am coming my son. Do not give up hope. Soon we will be together again and on our way home.*

As Caine succumbed to the pain, a black clad figure stood over him.

"We shall see Priest."

Peter tried to fight his way to consciousness. It was an effort, to say the least. The drug he had been given had been designed to leave him immobile but his mind clear to wonder. The van that carried him from his father could not help but bring on the rest of the memories, memories that held more pain and anguish and yet also contained his salvation.

*****Flashback****

*I'm sorry father. I can't hold on any longer. He's too strong.*

The Kung Fu that Peter had learned had been ineffective. Again, Morrison had overpowered Peter and another round of beating continued. Again the wicker cane did its work on the teenager's backside.

"Peter Morrison! Say it! Your name is Peter Morrison!"

Tired and weak, Peter could no longer fight.

"P...pe...eter M...moor...risson," Peter stammered, his voice choked with emotion.

"Good. Remember that. Tonight you will remain here. Chain him to the radiator. No one will hear him just the same. They will all be at the revival, like good God fearing Christians."

Another town, another scam. This time, they found themselves in Canyon Springs, Wyoming, a small town that looked like time had stopped 100 years ago. After they chained him, Peter slumped to the floor defeated. They placed by his side a bowl of water and a small crust of bread, his usual meal since he had been given over to the Devil. Peter tried to control the raging hatred for the man who had become his jailer and tormentor. If this was what the outside world had to offer, then the next time he had a chance, he would cheat the devil himself. But he could not take the risk that his father's dagger would not be discovered and taken from him before he had that chance. Voices caught his attention. It was odd. Morrison sounded almost human. What was he saying? Peter strained his ears to hear.

"I wish to find an older brother for him to add to the family," Peter could hear Morrison say. "That boy is one tough nut. I gave him every opportunity to be saved but he still refuses. When is he going to learn that his father abandoned him and left him in my care? He must learn that this world is a cruel, harsh place and to survive, he must never trust, even me. With an older brother, I am sure we can keep him in line."

"And if he doesn't"

"Then we have no choice. He will burn, just like his father did. His soul will be cleansed in the fires of hell. Come we must go to the revival. There is much money to be made there."

NO! Fear gripped Peter at having his life threatened again with extinction by another. He had to escape. There had to be away. Then a lesson came to him.

*** Young Peter Flashing Back***

"It will not open, father."

"Focus your chi, my son."

Peter strained to open the wooden box.

"I can't, please father it will die."

Caine grasped the box and placed his thumb over the lock. With an audible click, the lid sprang open. Inside was the white dove that had been placed in there by one of the other children.

"Will I be able to do that someday?"

"Yes, my son. When you absolutely need to open a seal, you will."

***

Peter slowed his breathing and listened for any sound coming from the other rooms. No sound came. Everyone must be at the revival by now. He would wait a few more minutes. Peter slipped into the practiced meditation mode that he always hated doing but did because his father would always profess its necessity. A pang of loss threatened to bring his emotions again to the surface until he clamped down on them. Soon he found a peaceful calm settle over himself. Peter could feel the old fashion metal shackles around his wrists and ankles. Suddenly, he heard a click as the spring lock came open. Peter opened his eyes and brought the manacles to his face to see them hanging loosely on his wrists. He checked his ankles and those, too, had been opened. He had done it. He had actually opened them with his chi. A sudden feeling of accomplishment gave way to the reality as he realized, although he was free of the chains, he wasn't out of the woods yet.

Quickly Peter rose and checked the door. It was locked. Could he open it the same way? Peter again focused his chi and he again heard the soft click of the lock turning. Before he left, however, he wanted to leave a message only the Devil would notice. Peter tore a page out of the Bible that Morrison had given him. He quickly found a pen in the desk and circled certain letters and words. Then he re-locked the now empty manacles, drank the water, and ate the bread. From underneath the bed he grabbed the duffel bag that contained the clothes that Morrison had required him to wear. Hidden within them was his father's dagger. Checking once more for any noises, Peter left then relocked the door. Now it would be the Devil's turn to wonder how he had escaped. Peter could not help remembering the words he had always heard in reference to the Shaolin.

Listened for he cannot be heard.
Looked for he cannot be seen.
Felt for, he cannot be touched.
It is said that a Shaolin can walk through walls.

Perhaps, some day, he would be one again.

Then, Peter Caine disappeared into the night.

*****Flashback Continues****

"Let me go! I didn't do anything wrong."

"Where are your parents, kid?"

"Dead. They're both dead. What do you care?"

"Do you have any other family? Grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters?

"No."

The young police officer looked at the dirty teenager clinging desperately onto a bag with his life. If it weren't for the dirt, the kid would look almost handsome. At a glance, he could see the worn shoes, torn clothes that hung too loose on the kid's frame, and the scared look on the boy's face. What little hair he had was matted and needed a good washing. Whatever he was running from, must have been some nightmare, because he could still see that it was chasing the kid even now.

"What's your name kid?"

"P..pe..eter M..morrison uh Caine." the kid said hesitantly.

"So which is it?"

"What?"

"Morrison or Caine?"

"Caine!" the kid declared proudly, almost defiantly.

"Take it easy, kid. No ones going to hurt you here. So, what are you running from? Maybe I can help?"

Peter stared back at the man, not sure whether to believe him.

"Did you run away from some place?"

"More like someone," Peter said more to himself. "Forget it, I'm just on my own, okay?"

"Hey, that kind of attitude could land you into deep trouble. Can I see what you have in the bag?"

"It's nothing. Just my clothes."

"Let me be the judge of that," The officer carefully took the bag from the frightened boy. As he opened it, he cringed back from the odor. The few clothes he found had not been washed in weeks. As he dug deeper, his hands felt something long and ornate. What he pulled out surprised him and he drew in a long whistle. "Where did this come from I wonder? It looks valuable."

"It is, to me." Peter tried to grab the knife from the officer but he pulled it out of the boy's reach. "Hey, give it back!"

"And why should I? I'm beginning to think you might have stolen this. Tell me the truth. Where did this come from?"

"It was my father's!" Peter cried, tears rimming his eyes. "It's all I have left of him."

The officer was taken aback by the sudden eruption of anger and emotion that came from the boy. If he had not stolen the knife, then why was he concealing it?

"Please, give it back," Peter's voice went down to a whisper, embarrassed at the emotional display. "It's all I have to remember him by. They took everything else away from me."

Curiosity piqued the young officer's interest. What had happened to cause this boy so much pain?

"Please, tell me what happened. By the way, my name's David, David Griffin. Here. Be careful with that. You could get into real trouble with some of the gangs around here if they found you carrying such a weapon."

"It's not a weapon to fight with. It's used in certain Shaolin rituals for life."

"Look kid, you really aren't safe here on the streets. I know it's not really a nice place to be, but you'd be a lot safer if I took you someplace where you could at least get a decent meal and a bath."

"Is it an orphange?" The young boy's eyes filled with fright.

The officer did not want to lie to the kid but there wasn't anything he could do.

"I won't lie to you. It's called Pineridge. It's either that or end up on the streets either selling yourself or drugs, or maybe both. please, come with me. Something good may come out of it."

Officer Griffin continued to watch the boy's face. Perhaps there was something more he could do for the boy to make his stay at the orphanage more bearable. He decided that he would give his brother a call, see if he had any ideas. Hopefully there was someone he might find that would be willing to take the boy under wing. He didn't seem like a bad kid, just terribly frightened and alone.

Peter thought about what the officer had said. He really didn't want to end up in another orphanage or on the streets. What he really wanted was to be back at a Shaolin temple, but his father's temple had been the only one of its kind in North America. That left only China and he knew that he had less than a snowball's chance in hell of getting there.

"All right. I'll go." Maybe, by entering another orphanage, under his real name, there was a less likely chance that Morrison would ever find him again.

****End of Flashback*****

"Rise and shine, my son. Time to face your punishment like a man."

Peter's eyes snapped open. No! It was impossible. He couldn't be here. Peter could feel the shackles cut deep into his wrists. They were the same manacles that had bound his wrists nearly 20 years before.

"You know, it wasn't very polite of you to run away like that. Took me a long time to figure out just how you got out of those wrist and ankle bands, let alone out of a locked room."

"I did it the Shaolin way, like my father. I used my chi."

*#*SLAP!*#*

"Don't talk smart to me boy. I am your father. That heathen no longer has any claim. I bought you fair and square and I'll do with you as I please."

"You are not my father and you never will be. I am Peter Caine, son of Kwai Chang Caine!" Peter said proudly. For the first time in a long time, he was very proud to call himself that.

"Very well. Since you wish to associate yourself with that heathen, then you can die with him. Chain him to the cross. Remember I told you years ago that you would burn like the things of your past if you used the name of Caine? And you will burn. Only not before your father arrives in two days. I want to see his face when he loses his only son, if he survives the gunshot wound I gave him like I gave his grandfather."

Peter's head was spinning as a large man entered and lifted him like a sack of potatoes. Still too groggy to fight back, all Peter could do was question what had been said.

'The Devil shot my great-grandfather? How is that possible? Who is this man? And now my father's also injured? No! This can't be happening. This journey wasn't supposed to be like this.'

As Caine began to come out of the darkness he could feel a strong presence. He slowly opened his eyes and stared in awe at the form kneeling next to him. He could feel that the man had pressed some healing herbs to the open wound that had been inflicted by the Deacon.

"My grandson, as you helped me to save my family so shall I help you."

"NO," Caine answered quickly. "If anything were to happen to you here, the line of Caine would cease to exist grandfather. My father may not take his chosen path. This is my battle. I must defeat the Deacon myself. I must save my son."

Caine tried to rise but his grandfather gently pushed him back.

"You shall defeat the Deacon, my grandson.," his gradfather said with a gentle smile. "I will not fight your battle for you, I will only lend a hand, or should I say a chi, from the past. I have watched and waited all these years for the Deacon to make his move against our family. I knew back then that he planned something, but I knew not what it was. I had been informed that he had disappeared and feared that his revenge would be taken in a way that no one would be able to stop. Let me help to heal you by joining our chi to give you the strength to be able to defeat him. You have no time to waste as you have only 2 days to get to Canyon Springs, Wyoming and save my great-grandchild. There is more, the Deacon should not be here in this timeframe. Summon me and I will come and take him back where he belongs."

With that, he reached out to Caine and let his chi enter his grandson’s body. Caine could feel his own strength being renewed as his grandfather's chi flowed through him.

"Though the wound is not totally healed, my grandson, you must make haste." The elder Caine helped his grandson to rise to his feet, holding onto him for a few minutes until he knew his grandson would be steady.

"Thank you, my grandfather. It is . . . wonderful to see you again." Kwai Chang placed his hand on his grandfather's cheek.

"I am afraid after the Deacon is defeated, you will not see me again. Time and distance will not allow it. Now go, your son is in great peril."

Kwai Chang Caine watched as his namesake picked up his belongings and headed east. Though it would be a long and weary walk, he knew his grandson was capable of making the journey. For a brief moment, if someone were to have watched, they would have seen two Caines, then as one walked away, the other faded and disappeared, as if he never was.

Caine followed the path of the Deacon, never stopping to rest. Two days did not give him much time. Even though his grandfather had said that the Deacon did not come from this time, Caine did not care. He could not totally put away the anger that he felt for the man who had hurt his child. It would be a difficult road, but at least, he knew where he was heading. He had been there twice before, once to save his grandmother and father, and once to stop a man whom he had only known as John Morrison.

'All those years ago, I should have realized that John Morrison and the Deacon were one and the same,' Caine thought. 'He knew about my son, even then. Now he wishes to take my son from me again. I cannot allow that. I shall get my son back.' Unadulterated rage filled Caine as each step took him closer to his destination. "If you have harmed him Deacon, you will have to answer to me."

On the second day, Caine walked down the street of Canyon Springs waiting for the Deacon to show himself. Though somewhat unsteady on his feet, and weak from the loss of blood from the gunshot wound, he had little choice in the matter. He had not stopped to heal himself further. He would rather pay the price later than find his son dead at the hands of the Deacon, so Caine pushed himself to the limits of what his body could endure, the beyond. As Caine sent out his chi, he finally learned exactly where his son could be found. There wasn't much time. Caine headed up the road leading to the old Trask ranch, only about a mile outside of town. It would not be long before the Devil would meet his worst nightmare.

As Caine approached the farmhouse that he had seen so many years before, his heart left his body. There in front of the barn was his son, tied to a cross. Peter was not moving and was covered in blood. Caine's eyes widened with the horror at what had been done to his son.

"Peter!" Caine called out to his stricken son.

Peter tried to raise his head at the sound of his father’s voice. "Pop, please help me," were his only words before his body went limp.

Caine started to rush forward, but was halted by the sound of a bolt being drawn back into place. He turned to see his hated enemy aiming the very rifle he had used long aog to inflict pain, not only on himself, but on his grandfather as well. The rifle, however, was not pointed at him.

"I knew you would not disappoint me. He's not dead yet, Caine, but he soon will be if you take one more step. Do not think I can't fire faster than you can save him. And don't try heating the gun with your heathen powers. I have another standing by. It's too bad really. I'd hoped he would have remained awake through the proceedings. I wanted him to see you die first. That was to be his punishment for not being the child he should have been. I tried to give him another chance, but he still believes that he's a Caine. He even professes to being Shaolin, so I find that his salvation can be accomplished through his death. But he must first watch the seed of that evil die. I have waited many years to end this with you, Caine and finally the time has come.

"Yes," Caine answered, "The time has come for your evil to be put to rest. You have done the greatest evil any man could ever do. To claim another man's child, and than strip that child of all that he is, is a crime that holds no equal. It is clear that the cycle of your lives must come to an end."

Cold laughter fill the air.

"You, Shaolin, think you can defeat me. I have the power of God on my side. There is nothing stronger in the world then I."

"In your arrogance you have forgotten that true power lies within oneself," Caine replied. "What power you have does not come from the light. Rather darkness fills your soul. The power of light and goodness shall always overcome that of darkness." Then with a smile, Caine added, "And if that were not enough than add the power of the line of Caine."

With that, Caine raised his arms to the heavens and summoned all of his chi. A light so powerful that the Deacon could not take his hands from his eyes, covered him and he was thrown back into the wall. Suddenly, Caine was there. Reaching down, he picked up the Deacon and again threw him across the yard. Rage filled Caine, giving him strength from reserves that even surprised him. It was as if the wound he had received was not even there. Seeing his son suffer at the hands of this man had unleashed a fury that even the Deacon could not stand against. The Deacon tried to fight him off but could not overcome the power that was inside Caine.

"Return to the dark where you belong devil."

Suddenly, he again sesed his grandfather standing beside him

"Stop my grandson. This will be finished where it should have ended in the first place. I will take him back with me and see to it that he can never harm anyone again."

"No, he must pay for what he has done."

"No, Kwai Chang. If you do this, you know what the consequences will be. He will not die by your hand. Do not make the same mistake that I did."

Kwai Chang lowered his arms. His grandfather was right. If he were to kill the Deacon, he would be perpetuating the mistakes that had been made by his grandfather.

"You must go to your son. He dies on that cross even as we speak. You must free him. Go to your son. Help him to heal, as he will help to heal you with his love. You must get back onto your path and release the hate and anger you have felt. Together, you will both grow in knowledge and love. Take your son and return home, I shall watch over you both as I have all these years. Tell Peter his great-grandfather is watching over him and that he is very proud of the newest generation of Caine."

With that, the elder Caine placed his hand on the Deacon and both were gone.

With the last of his strength, Caine ran over to Peter and took him down from the cross. Holding him in his arms he spoke, "My son, the evil is gone forever. Please find it in your heart to forgive me for not being there when you needed me."

Peter did not stir. His body hung limply as Caine reached for the pulse point at his son's neck. At first he felt nothing, causing his heart to sink. It was as he had feared. He was too late. Caine weakly dropped to the ground, grasping his son tightly to his chest, and lowered his head to let the tears fall.

"No, my son. I cannot lose you now. I lost you once before, I will not lose you, again. I am sorry I was not there to save you from him. Do not leave me." Caine ran his hands along his son's limp form, searching for any sign of life.

Suddenly, Peter's body convulsed and a deep coughing came from his tortured lungs as he gasped for air from having been hanging from the cross for two days. He tried to clear the fog in his mind as his father's emotion filled voice pleaded with him to stay and to forgive him.

"Peter," Caine's voice was an astonished whisper as joy filled him once again and the tears streamed down.

Peter's voice was weak and harsh from dehydration. He reached up to touch his father's cheek and to brush the tears away from his face.

"Pop, you have always been there when you knew what was happening, even when we lived at the temple. Ping Hai prevented us from even knowing that the other was alive. It wasn't your fault. You said it yourself, he did it to protect us. You did not know what was being done to me. I know that now. There is nothing to forgive. I love you Pop."

Caine sat for a while, simply rocking his son in his arms and allowing the love t flow through them both. Still, shame filled him at the act that he nearly committed for the sake of his son. There would come a time when he would have to deal with that shame.

"It is time for our journey to the past to end, my son, and the journey to a healing future to begin."

"Yeah, let's go home."

Caine knew that the healing process would take awhile, for both Peter and himself. He needed to take his son some place where they could be alone and talk about what had happened without interruption. He decided that the perfect plac,e where Peter would be both comfortable and safe, would be the Blaisdell’s cabin.

They spent much of their time just sitting in front of the fire, or taking walks, meditate together, and just talking. Memories, both good and bad, were shared. Caine told Peter about his mother and Peter told his father more about his life with the Blaisdells. Caine also gave Peter a more detailed description of what had happened during his 15 years of wandering. Finally, Peter asked what had happened to the Deacon. Caine told him how his great-grandfather had come to assist him, and of how proud he was of both of them. Peter grew silent for a time. There had been more to those frightening days when he had been a boy, but Peter was still not ready to share them. How could he tell his father without bringing on more pain? Caine could sense his son's turmoil, but all he could do was wait and be willing to listen when his son was ready to talk.

Peter sat looking into the fire. Turning to look at his father, Peter saw the face, not of the strong Shaolin he had always known, but of his father, a man, tired and hurt. He knew then that all the things from the last 19 years had affected his father just as strongly as they had him. Peter reached out and put a hand on his father’s face.

"You know Pop, when you think about all the things that have happened in these 19 years to both of us, alone or together, it’s amazing. We have both been blown up, shot, stabbed, and attacked by the evil forces of the world and here we sit together. I would say that we are very protected by some very strong forces, or we are just always meant to be together. What do you think, Pop?"

"I have always known that, whether alive or in the next, our lives will always be intertwined, my son. It is our destiny to always walk together, regardless of whether or not the other is physically present. I am very happy that path has brought us to a new understanding of each other. Though a Shaolin should not show pride, as a father, I am very proud to be the father of Peter Caine. I love you with all my being my son."

"As I am proud to be the son of Kwai Chang Caine. For a long time I couldn't say those words, but now, I can and I am. And I love you too, Pop."

With no more words, they sat together in companionable silence and just let the love between them take all the pain and fears away. They knew that the new journey they faced would always bring them together and nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, a deep stillness filled with darkness entered Kwai Chang Caine's soul and he knew it was not over yet. There was one more demon to face, at least for himself. It would be a trial like none other. It would be his final test as a Shambhala Master, and perhaps his greatest trial for his son as well. The time would have to be set aside when he knew it would be right. For now, they were home and they were together.

Finish