They could tell the words had shaken him, so they waited. Paul especially knew, after years of working with Kermit, that he would speak when he was ready and not before.

"What can I get you, Hun?" the waitress asked Kermit as she looked at him. She seemed to be staring and Kermit, well used to this phenomenon since arriving here, simply went with it. At least now he knew why people stared at him like that.

"Coffee and a few more minutes with the menu?" he asked.

"Certainly, Bar…Mr. Collins," she said. Kermit sighed, that was the other thing he'd become used to since they'd arrived in town. He returned his attention to the menu as she went to fill the order for coffee.

"She's the third person tonight to do that," Peter said referring to several people they'd passed on the way into town.

"I'm having the Lobster Dinner," Kermit said, deliberately choosing to not answer Peter's unvoiced question. "Mrs. Fletcher is right, fresh lobster tastes better than frozen and shipped like we have at home."

The mystery writer from Cabot Cove was also the only person who hadn't given him a funny look when he said he was headed for Collins Port and his family's ancestral home. She had told him she was sure he'd find whatever he was looking for there. Kermit had no doubt she was dead serious, so now, here he was; looking for the answers. And if he was right, he'd just gotten slapped in the face with them so hard his head was still ringing.

"Kermit!" Peter exclaimed sounding frustrated by his refusal to answer. Kermit glanced at him and saw Peter looked about ready to hit him.

Paul sighed as he ordered the same as Kermit. It didn't take long for the others to order the same meal. Kermit didn't need order confusion and besides, it was hard to get good lobster back home. He sighed at Peter's look. Peter never had been patient.

Kermit removed his sunglasses and rubbed his face tiredly. He left them off, deciding to let people see why others in the town kept almost calling him by another name, his middle name even if he never used it.

"I look like him, Peter," Kermit finally said. He saw Peter's look of non-comprehension, but was saved from having to say more at that moment by their arrival of the food. He knew Peter would not wait much longer though. Hopefully he would wait until the end of the meal… hopefully.

The meal was mostly silent as they were all quite hungry. Kermit hadn't eaten much in his search and neither really had Peter or Paul. Robert, John and Mickey hadn't had much to eat on their flight so they were as hungry as Kermit's group. However, by the time the plates were cleared and dessert had been ordered along with more coffee, Peter was looking very antsy.

"I look like him, Peter," Kermit said again hoping the younger man would get it. He still didn't understand and Kermit sighed.

"Who, Kermit?" Peter asked. "Who do you look like that the majority of people in this town do double takes when they see you at first? I mean, what is this secret you seem to have figured out from the journal and Uncle John's remarks? Who, exactly, do you look like?"

"He looks like his father," a voice said. Paul turned with Kermit and the others merely an instant behind in looking for the source of it. There was a man standing looking at them. He looked in appearance to be somewhere between Paul's age and Kermit's.

"You knew my father?" Kermit asked.

"Everyone in this town knows of The Sea Wolf," the man said. 'But yeah, I know him. My name's Willie Loomis. I've been helping your father on and off for more than thirty years."

Kermit invited the man to join them and waited to hear what he had to say.

"No one in town ever thought you'd come back," the man, Willie, said. "Mrs. Stoddard…excuse me, Mrs. Collins-Stoddard, thought you'd be better off raised elsewhere. The only thing Roger Collins and I ever agreed on before your father came back in the sixties was that she was wrong. Your father should have raised you."

"Might have helped if I'd known all this sooner," Kermit agreed. "So, just how old is my father anyway?"

"You could ask him yourself," Willie said.

Kermit looked at him with what Mickey and Peter both could have sworn was hope but only Paul and Jim would really know for sure.

"He's awake?" Kermit asked. And there was an edge of…something that Peter was tempted to say was excitement but Kermit was far too taciturn to be read that easily. Paul would know, though. Peter glanced at Paul wondering and found Paul had a slight smile on his face. Yep, excitement.

"Yeah," Willie said. "I went up to the house after I saw you yesterday evening. He asked me how long it had been this time. Funny thing was, he woke up when I said there was someone in town he needed to see. He basically woke up for you even if he didn't know why. At least not before he saw you last night while you were out walking. He didn't say anything to you because you didn't know about him, hadn't figured it out yet and he didn't want to scare you. You might have felt him watching you though. He does that from time to time, watches over his family. Anyway, if you want to come, we can go and see him now. He wants to meet you in person. He's at the Old House."

"Okay," Kermit said. "Let me pay the check and we can go."

That was speedily accomplished and soon and the group of seven were walking back towards Collinwood and the Old House that Kermit, as per the instructions in -all- of the papers, had not gone near.

They were walking up Main Street when Kermit suddenly stopped cold. And he and Peter both looked around as if sensing something.

"Damn," Kermit muttered. At the same time that he spoke, Peter, Paul, John, Mickey and Robert dropped into relaxed and waiting positions. Maybe they didn't know what Peter and Kermit had sensed but they were too battle hardened not to immediately drop into battle ready positions.

Willie found himself in the center of the circle their back-to-back formation made.

"Don't move," Peter, said to Willie. Willie nodded knowing these men knew what they were doing and also knowing Barnabas would be here soon.

"Well, well," a voice said from the darkness. "Caine, Griffin and Blaisdell. I didn't know you had a twin, Cap'n. And who are your other friends?"

"No one you want angry with you," Kermit warned. "What do you want, Jack?"

Jack Wong and his brother Tommy, along with about ten of their Singh Wah thugs came out of the shadows then.

"Bon-Bon Hai wants this town," Tommy said. "It's ideal for his coastal operations."

"Not happening," Kermit said. "Even if I wasn't here."

"What's it got to do with you, Griffin?" Jack Wong demanded.

"I'm the last heir of the Town Fathers," Kermit snarled. "And if you think for one second I'm going to let you or your weak-powered boss try to harm this place, think again."

At an unseen signal from Jack Wong, the thugs attacked and the fight commenced. Kermit, Peter, and Paul were doing most of the fighting, having met the Singh Wah in battle before. Robert, John and Mickey were focused on protecting Willie and themselves and any other innocent who might possibly get hurt.

"John, look out!" Paul suddenly yelled.

John looked up and saw the nightstick coming at his head. He couldn't dodge out of the way, though, that would leave Willie in the path. He braced, waiting for the blow he was quite sure was going to hurt only…

Only after a few seconds he realized it hadn't hit.

He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the tableau before him. All fighting had ceased by what he saw: The nightstick had been arrested mid-swing.

There was now a man between himself and Tommy Wong and that man had caught the nightstick as it had been swung at him and halted it's movement. He was now holding it casually as Tommy struggled to pull it free.

The man turned a look on the Singh Wah that had them backing up before he spoke.

"Not in my town," he said. And when he spoke, his eyes flared an ominous glowing green.

Jack Wong was in shock. He was so in shock that all he could do was stare.

A man had just moved faster than any of his agents could. The man had stopped his brother’s arm in mid-swing. Just, reached out and grabbed his arm and halted it, momentum and all. The man was now staring coldly at Tommy and himself.

“Not in my town,” the man had said. And he spoke in such a way that even if his eyes had not been glowing (GLOWING?!, Jack thought stupefied) green, the threat was obvious.

“Your town?” Jack asked. “It belongs to the Singh Wah now.”

“Oh, I dare say not,” the man said.

Kermit noticed the odd speech pattern and thought to himself, this man was definitely older than he looked.

“Are you going to fight us for it?” Tommy asked. The man’s face was ice cold as he answered.

“There is no fighting,” he said. “This town has been under my protection for 200 years. However, you, and your master, may try to fight me for it. You will not win, however. I can guarantee that with certainty.” So saying, he released the end of Tommy’s stick he was holding and sent the younger Wong careening into trash cans at the side of the alley behind him.

Jack, seeing the man’s eyes shift form glowing green to flashing red, decided to choose discretion over valor and fled.

“Charming,” the man said as he turned to look at the group. “Barnabas Collins,” he introduced himself with a formal bow.

“I…” Kermit began. And Peter knew this had to be an historic day: Kermit was dumbstruck.

“This is Kermit, Barnabas,” Willie said. “He’s the man I told you about.”

“Yes,” the man, Barnabas, said. “I can see that. It is my great pleasure to meet you, Kermit.”

“I…” Kermit froze again and Peter could see the million and one questions Kermit had but seemed unable to ask.

“Try something simple,” Peter heard Paul say quietly to Kermit.

Kermit was silent for a moment before he asked his first question:

“Do you want to know me?”

Barnabas seemed surprised by the question but managed to answer him nevertheless.

“I have always wanted to have a child of my own,” he told Kermit. “Yes, I very much want you, and I wish to know you.”

“Okay,” Kermit said. “I know you didn’t know about me. But, if you had…”

“I would have wanted you,” Barnabas told him. “You are my son. Nothing would…nothing *could* ever change that. Nor could anything change my wanting you.”

“Hey,” Mickey said. “As touching as this is, maybe we should move this indoors? Maybe someplace a little less public and a little more private?”

“Mickey,” Robert chided.

“It is all right,” Barnabas said. “He is correct. Perhaps we should adjourn to either of the two houses?”

“We were on our way to yours,” Paul said. Barnabas nodded and turned, leading them to his home.

Kermit moved up to his father’s side and walked with him. Peter watched them and felt confused. His father had never sounded so…happy with him. Paul had on many occasions, but never had Kwai Chang Caine ever been so truly happy with him. At least, not unless he was doing something he utterly loathed.

He was confused.

Did this mean he shouldn’t have had to do something he hated to get his father’s love and approval?

Kermit had just met his father ten minutes ago, after all, and his father seemed so…pleased with him.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered to himself as they walked.

*

"Look to the past for my answers, huh?" Kermit groused as he wandered downstairs after his latest nightmare and having been roused by a loud crash of thunder. Joy.

He sighed knowing he was not getting back to sleep and had gotten dressed again. He knew there were journals and papers in the library he could look through to start his search. He was heading down to the kitchen when he saw Paul out of the corner of his eye.

"Nightmare," he said. "Nothing more. Go back to sleep. I'll find something to do."

Paul looked at Kermit and raised an eyebrow. Kermit sighed and let him follow him downstairs.

"I'll make coffee," Paul said. Kermit nodded and walked into the study. There was the desk of his dreams sitting there but he ignored the book sitting on it. He wanted the other things first. He somehow knew he did not want the published family histories. What he wanted, he knew, was somewhere else. He ignored the official family history and started pulling down the journals, records and documents.

"Journal of Joshua Collins," he read on the label of one journal. "Volume 1. Okay, lets see what you can tell me, Joshua."

And so he began to read. He started with Joshua, unsure why except that it felt right. Also, the documents from before Joshua seemed to be perfectly normal.

"Hmmm," he said to himself as he read. "A lot of people died from wild animal attacks in the year 1790."

For some reason, even after Barnabas had in the official history apparently left for England, Joshua continued to mention him in the present tense.

"Why does your father speak of you in the present tense?" Kermit asked the rough sketch he'd found in the book. "Who are you?"

He got through all of Joshua and half of Daniel before he noticed the holes and inconsistencies in several of the stories. Daniel, too, mentioned Barnabas several times and yet other than the original, he could find no other family member with that name.

"What the hell?" he muttered as he pulled his lap top bag over and pulled from it a pad of paper and a pen. Later he'd put all this on the computer. For now, he was just taking notes.

1) J mentions B 5 or 6 times after B supposedly left for England.
2) Each time B is mentioned, J speaks of him in the present tense.
3) D mentions B several times in his own lifetime despite B supposedly having left when D was little.
4) I have a feeling B will be mentioned by others in the family as well.
5) A lot of people in the year 1790 died of wild animal attacks except for Sarah who died of a fever.

"So, what in the nine levels of Hell is going on here?"

Kermit was a logical man. He followed evidence, facts and figures to their conclusions no matter how weird the conclusions were. So, to keep things straight as he worked, he was writing down things he saw as important.

Paul brought him a cup of coffee, which he thanked him for before returning his attention to the papers in front of him.

Skimming through records and journals and various scraps of paper for any mention of Barnabas, Kermit soon had a list of sightings of the man. He began to compile a list of dates with which he could look for events to see if he could figure out why then and there and not at other times. All of the journals pointed to something happening 'in town' before the authors mentioned Barnabas Collins.

After Daniel, he only mentioned the dates a there did not seem to be any personal to family matters that caused it. He wrote down the year and the dates from the time Barnabas came to the time he left. He needed to see what had happened. He suspected the answers were in the town paper's archives and possibly in the library. He'd look tomorrow or, more aptly, later this morning and see what he could find the dates had correlated with.

Meanwhile, he only had one plausible theory and boy was it an interesting one. He went back to his notes and wrote it down.

"All of the evidence so far suggests one of two things: Either a ghost has come whenever the family Collins or the town has been in dire need. Or The absence of a date of death for the original Barnabas, combined with the fact that the ship he supposedly sailed to England on has no mention of him having been on it suggests that he never left for England and never died...at least not permanently. Scary thought but that is where the evidence leads. So, if he never left the town, where is he? And who is he?"

Kermit then gathered all his papers and went back to the kitchen where he found Paul sipping a mug coffee.

"Peter went to get donuts," Paul said. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Kermit said. We seem to have stumbled into a mystery. I have an idea for the answers but I need you and Peter to help me with some research to see if it backs up my theory."

"Where do we need to go?" Paul asked as Peter came in.

"Library and Newspaper Office. Likely the Town Archive as well. I have a list of dates and I need to find out what happened in the town on them. I need to know anything bad that could have been a serious threat to the town. I need to look in the town histories for the same. I'm looking for a correlation between actions and troubles in the town and a theory I have that needs to be proved or disproved."

"Okay," Peter said. "After we eat, we'll head into town and see what we can find out."

Kermit nodded and sat at the table.

"And into the past we go," Kermit said to himself. "To find the past and the answers therein."

*****************

Later that morning, Peter, Paul and Kermit entered the town hall to look at some of the older documents. Kermit was tense as he walked in but remembered he was a Collins. That meant, if he had the understanding right, that he was the owner of the town. Not that he would act like it. That wasn't in him. He wanted answers, not to make people think he had a superiority complex.

"Can I help you, sir?" the woman at the desk asked.

"Yes," Kermit said. "My name is Kermit Collins and I'm working on a mystery I discovered at Collinwood. I'd like to see documents from 1790 to the present. I'm also going to have to go to the library and get town histories and likely to the paper office to get back issues of that."

"I can see about having those brought over if you like," she said. "We do allow research to be done in one place and have materials brought to the researcher."

"That would be great, thanks," Kermit said as he let her lead Peter, Paul and himself to a conference room. Peter went in and like Paul, checked the exits. Kermit shook his head and grinned ruefully.

"We've been a bad influence on him, Paul," Kermit said. "A very bad influence."

"It'll keep him alive," Paul said as the first load of books was brought in. These were the one from this building. He knew others would be brought from the papers office and the library.

Kermit spread out his pages of notes on the table and wrote dates down for each of them. They were settling in for a long day of research, a long day.

It took most of the morning and half of the afternoon before they had the dates and information that seemed the best bet for what had called Barnabas Collins to come to the town and fix whatever trouble was plaguing it.

Kermit knew somehow that it was the same man, he just wasn't sure of how he knew.

He'd dismissed the first volume of the books titled The History of Collins Port as having events too early in the town's history to be of any use to him. So, he'd focused on the volumes starting from 1790. That's why this had taken so long; they had to go through every volume to find the years and dates they were looking for.

Finally, at around dinnertime, they had the information as narrowed down as far as they likely would to be able to so they sat back for a few minutes before they began to read off their findings. Kermit suspected they could have gotten to this stage sooner but he wanted to be sure he had all the facts. This town had a lot of history.

"Okay," Kermit said. "This seems to be how it runs. In 1801, we had a platoon of disgruntled British soldiers attempt to take over this town. Within one week they were all dead or had fled in terror."

"Right," Peter said. "In 1814 during that skirmish of a British temper tantrum, we again had redcoats here trying to take over this town. Again we ended up with the old Dead or Fled within a week."

Paul nodded. Time to reveal his findings for this period. "In 1845, a group of children were taken by a clan of mountain men for unknown or unrecorded purposes. It was written that the morning after someone went to the Old House to ask The Sea Wolf for help, the children were returned and the bodies of the mountain men were found in the town square. They all had broken necks with the group leader's throat having been ripped out. Several of the dead men had expressions of terror on their faces. At first it was thought they'd been scared to death. However, the children reported that the Sea Wolf had come and gotten them."

"Me again," Kermit said. "In 1860, the Underground Railroad came up this far North. A group of runaway slave hunters tried to take the runaways back and also tried to claim that all of the people of color in town were slaves belonging to their employers. When they tried to hurt those people, the response from the Sea Wolf was again brutal, bloody, and violent and spoke of rage on his part. The Slaver hunters, well, the two that lived, never ever came near this town again even if they knew there were runaways here."

Peter took a breath. It was his turn again. "In 1918, there seemed to be a problem with some WWI Veterans. It was later discovered that they'd had a reaction to some chemical used in the war. That time there was no death. It says The Sea Wolf did something to calm them down and then took them to get help."

"In 1935," Paul said. "A child killer was staking the area. Three children from the town were taken. Two died but one was recovered. Again we have the title given to the person who saved them The Sea Wolf. Whoever he is, the town seems determined to protect his identity."

"Yeah," Kermit said. "In 1942, there was an attempt by German Soldiers to take over this town and make a base for Nazis in this country. At the first anti-semetic message they started dying. There was an explosion in the harbor one night that was discovered to be a U-Boat blowing up as it tried to surface. It is believed that The Sea Wolf was responsible somehow."

"In 1955," Peter said, "Same thing. A gang of bikers tried to cause trouble in town. They were stopped cold."

"In 1963," Paul said, "We have desegregation issues. The Sea Wolf was called on to stop a race riot. It's not written here clearly how he did it but it was said he mentioned the era he was from and did he seem to have a problem with it. No one said a thing after that."

"1968, Vietnam Protest," Kermit began. "It seems a protest got violent when some protesters started throwing things at the recruiting office and he was again called on to deal with it. The Sea Wolf reminded everyone of Patriotism and the Price of Freedom. Everyone went home."

"1977," Peter said. "Some people tried to start a drug production operation here. The paper says 'Tried' being the operative word."

"And finally, Paul began. "I found this in 1984. A group of Neo Nazi Skin Heads attempted to bring their hate to this town. They failed miserably and were how does the paper say…'encouraged' to move on."

"Well," Kermit said. "The Sea Wolf sure takes his job seriously."

"I'll say," Peter said. "Lets go get some dinner if we're done here?"

Kermit and Paul nodded and followed the younger man out of the conference room. They told the woman at the desk that they were finished and thanked her before leaving. They did not see the man who was somewhere between Paul's age and Kermit's age watching them as they left. Or, more aptly, watching Kermit.

He turned and left the building as quickly as he'd come, going immediately to the Old House of Collinwood and in through a side door that he'd used many times over the years. He knew the path he had to walk through the house as he'd walked it many times in his life in the dark and in the light of day. He walked up to a heavily curtained bedroom where there was a man sleeping.

"There's someone in town you need to see," he told the figure. "I think he might be really important."

He turned to leave but was stopped at the door by a raspy voice: "Willie," it said. Male and sounding hoarse from disuse, "How long?"

***********************

Kermit entered the study the next morning to begin reading the big journal that was sitting out on the desk. When they'd gotten home from dinner last night, apparently IHOP was everywhere, he'd gone for a walk and he'd had the strangest feeling of being watched as he did. Oddly though, the Watcher In Shadows did not scare him. The feeling was almost...protective? He wasn't sure why but that was the feeling. And again, as in the case of Sarah, he had a sense that the Watcher, whoever it was, belonged there.

He sat at the desk and contemplated the large book in front of him. It was a journal he knew but what kind remained to be seen. He suspected it had more of the answers he was looking for or maybe more clues that when added to the ones he already had would make the puzzle whole. He knew he was missing something. And he had a feeling that something was staring him in the face. If only he could see what it was.Kermit took a deep breath and opened the journal to begin to read.

"Answers," he said to himself as he read the first passage. "Let them be here."

And he began to read the journal beginning with the flowing script he recognized from Joshua's journals:

'I put Barnabas to sleep this morn,' the first passage jumped off the page at him, 'until he is needed again. I had not intended to wake him so soon after his mother's death but I could see no other way to deal with the British Soldiers that had invaded our town.'

Kermit read that paragraph of the entry twice to be sure he was reading it correctly before he dove into the words written on the pages in the hand of a long dead ancestor.

'When I woke him, he asked me what needed to be done. I told him in as precise a manner as I could and within a week he had dealt with it. I watched and listened and I heard the people in the town refer to him as The Sea Wolf. When I asked why, I was told because he was a sailor like most of them and their husbands, sons and brothers so he was The Sea and then his cane with the silver wolf's head. The Sea Wolf. I have to admit it fits him. To me, this was a way to protect my son. I asked them if, when they recorded his comings and goings in the future would they please refer to him as The Sea Wolf. They have given me their word and I am forever in their debt for this protection they will give my boy.

Joshua Collins'

"Well, that explains why he's always called The Sea Wolf in all the histories and newspaper stories," Kermit said to himself as he flipped through the journal.

He noticed this journal was written in by several different authors and he knew why as he skimmed. Each Author began writing when Barnabas, The Sea Wolf, appeared and stopped when he left. That told him that this journal was about that specifically: The Sea Wolf.

Kermit flipped through the book, reading the accounts of each time The Sea Wolf, A.K.A. Barnabas Collins for the pieces of the story missing from the histories and papers he'd read in town. This was the Family's side of things; there would be personal things here. Kermit read the family's impressions of how the town thought of Barnabas and he smiled as he realized that all told, the town loved him. Kermit was impressed.

He was still looking for his answers when he got to the late 1970's to early 1980's and began to have a feeling that at least part of the answer had been hinted at already in an earlier passage in the book. A notation that he didn't understand a cross-reference to a journal of Doctor Julia Hoffman. He would get to that later. Right now, he was reading the last entry in the book, written by Roger Collins in the early to mid 80's.

'Barnabas was injured tonight," the entry began. "He finished with the Skinheads, yes, but he was shot during the last fight. The injury is severe and will likely require The Sleep as he calls it to heal. I don't know how much longer he'll be with us. I also don't know who will be here to help him in the future. Neither Willie nor myself are young anymore. Willie may make it through another one of these cycles but I don't think I will. I am old, Willie is not twenty anymore, Julia left long ago, Liz is dead, as is Mrs. Johnson, David, Carolyn and Vicky are all gone. That leaves only the child he does not know he has. If the child cannot be found he will be alone and I don't think he could survive that. I don't know. Maybe someday the child will find the way back. Maybe...'

Kermit looked up suddenly hearing the sound of one of the heavy doorknockers hitting the wood. That sound was certainly loud enough to wake the dead. Not to mention being audible in the middle of Bum. He jogged down the steps and opened the door where he found three people he knew standing waiting. Each had a bag or two and he was curious and so, called over his shoulder:

"Paul? You expecting anyone?"

"Robert and Mickey," Paul called back.

"Yeah? Well, your brother is here too. Come on in."

The three men entered the house and Paul and his almost identical brother looked at each other.

"What brings you here, John?" Paul asked.

"I thought I'd see if The Sea Wolf still resided in this place," John Blaisdell said with a sly smile that normally had people who knew him running if they knew any better. He seemed to be having a private reminiscence as he looked around a house he'd once had the living hell scared out of him in.

However, no one was going to know that story from his lips. "I also thought you might want to see Dad's file on this place," John said. "I was here both times in the sixties if you've been researching what I think you have. Dad was here in the forties and fifties. We both took notes on what went down here. It was an interesting ride."

"Yeah?" Paul asked as they walked further into the house. 'Tell us about it?"

"Well," John said. "Dad first. He crashed on the beach in 1942, almost got hit by German bullets so he knew there was a U-Boat here somewhere. Someone stepping between the bullets and him saved him and yet the person did not die. No, Dad says instead, once the Nazis stopped shooing, he calmly located all of them on shore and killed them. Then, he and dad worked out a way to blow the U-Boat. You see dad knew where the weak spot on the sub was but not where the sub itself was in the harbor. The man, who saved his ass as he says here, knew where the sub was but not how to take it out. After he proved to dad he really was a vampire, confusing as anything but there you have it, dad gave him step-by-step directions on how he could take out the sub. As I'm sure you found out, it blew up trying to surface. Dad knew where the metal was very weak so he told the man, Barnabas Collins, he said his name was, where it was and how to punch a hole in it; he built him a bomb to put in a torpedo tube and told him to pull the pin on the grenade to set it off. Water hit the electrical and other important do not submerge piece and a big bang was the result."

"Well, that certainly answers how he did that since we figured The Sea Wolf has been kicking around this place for a very long time," Kermit said. "Robert, you can explore all the rooms down her that you want but do not wander upstairs yet. I'm not sure what's here that can be leant out and what has to stay other than the doll."

"Thank you, Kermit," Robert McCall said as he looked around.

Kermit knew he had to be fascinated by this place. Robert was big on history as far as he knew. Kermit nodded and turned to lead them up to some of the rooms that were habitable. He noticed Paul and his brother talking about the times John had been here but he would hear about that later. Right now he was thinking about the journal entry. He stopped on the landing and looked at the portrait.

"Good morning, cousin Barnabas," he said. He heard Mickey's choke and shrugged as he turned to answer him.

"Ancestor," Kermit said. This house is literally breathing history and I do not want a visit from an irate ghost for a lack of manners I have."

Oh," Mickey said. John came back down and looked from the picture to Kermit and back.

"You know, Kermit," he said. 'If he looked a little older I'd almost swear he was your father," Paul's brother said.

Kermit thought for several very long minutes as the thing he'd been staring at suddenly slapped him in the face.

"Oh, shit," he whispered. Kermit turned without a word and headed back to the study. He heard the others following him but he felt too almost there to wait. He knew the answer was within his reach now. Even if no one else understood it he had a feeling he finally did.

He picked up the journal and began to read form where he'd left off with the others in the doorway. He now began to read aloud s he saw Peter join the others. He'd been meditating so he had missed some of the conversation.

"Maybe one day, his son will come back," Kermit read aloud.

"I've been told Liz really had no choice but to put the boy in the care of the Griffin family but I disagree. The boy would have been better off here. His father had a right to know about him. I can only hope one day he does come back.

His father could certainly use his help I'm sure.

Roger Collins
June, 1984"

"Jesus Christ," Paul whispered as he began to suspect what Kermit knew in his heart was true.

"I think we need to go out for awhile," Kermit said. "I need some time to absorb all of this."

"Sure, Kermit," John said. It had just slapped him in the face as well and the answer was…staggering to say the least.

"Absorb what?" Peter asked.

"My answers," Kermit told him. "Oh, did I just get them."

*******************

They settled on a diner in town not only for dinner, but to give Kermit a chance to think and absorb everything away from the house. No one pushed him to talk about what he'd realized when he read that last entry. Most of them had a pretty good idea of what it meant. Maybe not all of the details but they a pretty good idea.

They could tell the words had shaken him, so they waited. Paul especially knew, after years of working with Kermit, that he would speak when he was ready and not before.

"What can I get you, Hun?" the waitress asked Kermit as she looked at him. She seemed to be staring and Kermit, well used to this phenomenon since arriving here, simply went with it. At least now he knew why people stared at him like that.

"Coffee and a few more minutes with the menu?" he asked.

"Certainly, Bar....Mr. Collins," she said. Kermit sighed, that was the other thing he'd become used to since they'd arrived in town. He returned his attention to the menu as she went to fill the order for coffee.

"She's the third person tonight to do that," Peter said referring to several people they'd passed on the way into town.

"I'm having the Lobster Dinner," Kermit said, deliberately choosing to not answer Peter's unvoiced question. "Mrs. Fletcher is right, fresh lobster tastes better than frozen and shipped like we have at home."

The mystery writer from Cabot Cove was also the only person who hadn't given him a funny look when he said he was headed for Collins Port and his family's ancestral home. She had told him she was sure he'd find whatever he was looking for there. Kermit had no doubt she was dead serious, so now, here he was; looking for the answers. And if he was right, he'd just gotten slapped in the face with them so hard his head was still ringing.

"Kermit!" Peter exclaimed sounding frustrated by his refusal to answer. Kermit glanced at him and saw Peter looked about ready to hit him.

Paul sighed as he ordered the same as Kermit. It didn't take long for the others to order the same meal. Kermit didn't need order confusion and besides, it was hard to get good lobster back home. He sighed at Peter's look. Peter never had been patient.

Kermit removed his sunglasses and rubbed his face tiredly. He left them off, deciding to let people see why others in the town kept almost calling him by another name, his middle name even if he never used it.

"I look like him, Peter," Kermit finally said. He saw Peter's look of non-comprehension, but was saved from having to say more at that moment by their arrival of the food. He knew Peter would not wait much longer though. Hopefully he would wait until the end of the meal... hopefully.

The meal was mostly silent as they were all quite hungry. Kermit hadn't eaten much in his search and neither really had Peter or Paul.

Robert, John and Mickey hadn't had much to eat on their flight so they were as hungry as Kermit's group. However, by the time the plates were cleared and dessert had been ordered along with more coffee, Peter was looking very antsy.

"I look like him, Peter," Kermit said again hoping the younger man would get it. He still didn't understand and Kermit sighed.

"Who, Kermit?" Peter asked. "Who do you look like that the majority of people in this town do double takes when they see you at first? I mean, what is this secret you seem to have figured out from the journal and Uncle John's remarks? Who, exactly, do you look like?"

"He looks like his father," a voice said. Paul turned with Kermit and the others merely an instant behind in looking for the source of it. There was a man standing looking at them. He looked in appearance to be somewhere between Paul's age and Kermit's.

"You knew my father?" Kermit asked.

"Everyone in this town knows of The Sea Wolf," the man said.

'But yeah, I know him. My name's Willie Loomis. I've been helping your father on and off for more than thirty years."

Kermit invited the man to join them and waited to hear what he had to say.

"No one in town ever thought you'd come back," the man, Willie, said. "Mrs. Stoddard....excuse me, Mrs. Collins-Stoddard, thought you'd be better off raised elsewhere. The only thing Roger Collins and I ever agreed on before your father came back in the sixties was that she was wrong. Your father should have raised you."

"Might have helped if I'd known all this sooner," Kermit agreed.

"So, just how old is my father anyway?"

"You could ask him yourself," Willie said.

Kermit looked at him with what Mickey and Peter both could have sworn was hope but only Paul and Jim would really know for sure. "He's awake?" Kermit asked. And there was an edge of...something that Peter was tempted to say was excitement but Kermit was far too taciturn to be read that easily. Paul would know, though. Peter glanced at Paul wondering and found Paul had a slight smile on his face. Yep, excitement.

"Yeah," Willie said. "I went up to the house after I saw you yesterday evening. He asked me how long it had been this time. Funny thing was, he woke up when I said there was someone in town he needed to see. He basically woke up for you even if he didn't know why. At least not before he saw you last night while you were out walking. He didn't say anything to you because you didn't know about him, hadn't figured it out yet and he didn't want to scare you. You might have felt him watching you though. He does that from time to time, watches over his family. Anyway, if you want to come, we can go and see him now. He wants to meet you in person. He's at the Old House."

"Okay," Kermit said. "Let me pay the check and we can go."

That was speedily accomplished and soon and the group of seven were walking back towards Collinwood and the Old House that Kermit, as per the instructions in -all- of the papers, had not gone near.

They were walking up Main Street when Kermit suddenly stopped cold. And he and Peter both looked around as if sensing something.

"Damn," Kermit muttered. At the same time that he spoke, Peter, Paul, John, Mickey and Robert dropped into relaxed and waiting positions. Maybe they didn't know what Peter and Kermit had sensed but they were too battle hardened not to immediately drop into battle ready positions.

Willie found himself in the center of the circle their back-to-back formation made.

"Don't move," Peter, said to Willie. Willie nodded knowing these men knew what they were doing and also knowing Barnabas would be here soon.

"Well, well," a voice said from the darkness. "Caine, Griffin and Blaisdell. I didn't know you had a twin, Cap'n. And who are your other friends?"

"No one you want angry with you," Kermit warned. "What do you want, Jack?"

Jack Wong and his brother Tommy, along with about ten of their Singh Wah thugs came out of the shadows then. "Bon-Bon Hai wants this town," Tommy said. "It's ideal for his coastal operations."

"Not happening," Kermit said. "Even if I wasn't here."

"What's it got to do with you, Griffin?" Jack Wong demanded.

"I'm the last heir of the Town Fathers," Kermit snarled. "And if you think for one second I'm going to let you or your weak-powered boss try to harm this place, think again."

At an unseen signal from Jack Wong, the thugs attacked and the fight commenced. Kermit, Peter, and Paul were doing most of the fighting, having met the Singh Wah in battle before. Robert, John and Mickey were focused on protecting Willie and themselves and any other innocent who might possibly get hurt.

"John, look out!" Paul suddenly yelled.

John looked up and saw the nightstick coming at his head. He couldn't dodge out of the way, though, that would leave Willie in the path. He braced, waiting for the blow he was quite sure was going to hurt only.... Only after a few seconds he realized it hadn't hit.

He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the tableau before him.

All fighting had ceased by what he saw: The nightstick had been arrested mid-swing. There was now a man between himself and Tommy Wong and that man had caught the nightstick as it had been swung at him and halted it's movement. He was now holding it casually as Tommy struggled to pull it free. The man turned a look on the Singh Wah that had them backing up before he spoke.

"Not in my town," he said. And when he spoke, his eyes flared an ominous glowing green.

*************

Jack Wong was in shock. He was so in shock that all he could do was stare. A man had just moved faster than any of his agents could. The man had stopped his brothers.... arm in mid-swing. Just, reached out and grabbed his arm and halted it, momentum and all. The man was now staring coldly at Tommy and himself "Not in my town," the man had said.

And he spoke in such a way that even if his eyes had not been glowing (GLOWING?!, Jack thought stupefied) green, the threat was obvious "Your town?" Jack asked. "It belongs to the Singh Wah now"

"Oh, I dare say not," the man said.

Kermit noticed the odd speech pattern and thought to himself, this man was definitely older than he looked "Are you going to fight us for it?" Tommy asked. The man's face was ice cold as he answered. "There is no fighting," he said. "This town has been under my protection for 200 years. However, you, and your master, may try to fight me for it. You will not win, however. I can guarantee that with certainty." So saying, he released the end of Tommy's stick he was holding and sent the younger Wong careening into trash cans at the side of the alley behind him.

Jack, seeing the man's eyes shift form glowing green to flashing red, decided to choose discretion over valor and fled.

"Charming," the man said as he turned to look at the group. "Barnabas Collins," he introduced himself with a formal bow.

"I...." Kermit began.

And Peter knew this had to be an historic day: Kermit was dumbstruck.

"This is Kermit, Barnabas," Willie said. "He's the man I told you about."

"Yes," the man, Barnabas, said. "I can see that. It is my great pleasure to meet you, Kermit."

"I...." Kermit froze again and Peter could see the million and one questions Kermit had but seemed unable to ask.

"Try something simple," Peter heard Paul say quietly to Kermit.

Kermit was silent for a moment before he asked his first question: "Do you want to know me?"

Barnabas seemed surprised by the question but managed to answer him nevertheless. "I have always wanted to have a child of my own," he told Kermit. "Yes, I very much want you, and I wish to know you."

"Okay," Kermit said. "I know you didn't know about me. But, if you had.... I would have wanted you," Barnabas told him. "You are my son. Nothing would.....nothing *could* ever change that. Nor could anything change my wanting you."

"Hey," Mickey said. "As touching as this is, maybe we should move this indoors? Maybe someplace a little less public and a little more private?

"Mickey," Robert chided.

"It is all right," Barnabas said. "He is correct. Perhaps we should adjourn to either of the two houses?" "We were on our way to yours," Paul said.

Barnabas nodded and turned, leading them to his home. Kermit moved up to his father's side and walked with him. Peter watched them and felt confused. His father had never sounded so....happy with him. Paul had on many occasions, but never had Kwai Chang Caine ever been so truly happy with him. At least, not unless he was doing something he utterly loathed.

He was confused. Did this mean he shouldn't have had to do something he hated to get his father's love and approval? Kermit had just met his father ten minutes ago, after all, and his father seemed so....pleased with him.

"I don't understand," he whispered to himself as they walked.

***************

Once they arrived at the Old House and everyone was seated, Barnabas turned and looked directly at Peter.

"What don't you understand?" he asked the younger man.

"Uh....Uhm..." Peter stammered.

"You may ask, young man," Barnabas said. "No one here will think any the less of you for curiosity."

"Okay," Peter said drawing a deep breath. He'd always been able to talk to Paul about anything and he hoped no one here would think his question was stupid, but he was curious about it so, here he went. "Why is it," he began, "That you can be so happy and pleased with your son after only ten minutes and yet, my father can't be proud of me after 28 years unless I'm doing something I hate?"

Barnabas thought for a few moments before he spoke into the dead silence that followed Peter's question. "I do not know your father," Barnabas said quietly. "Having never met him, I cannot say for certain why he treats you as he does. However, from what you have asked and how you have asked it, I can say that he sounds a great deal like Kermit's grandfather.... That is to say, he sounds like my father who, while good in many things, was an extremely selfish man who wished all of his children to be I believe the modern words for this thought are 'carbon copies', of himself.... He never approved of my choices or myself because they and I differed so drastically from him. He thought, let us say assumed if you will, that if a choice or belief was good and right for the 'Great Joshua Collins', then those self same choices and beliefs were right for everyone around him. I made a vow a long time ago that I would not be that way or do those things to a child of my own. I believe that if one cannot accept one's child as he or she is, then one has no business being a parent." Peter's jaw worked silently for several moments while he processed that statement.

"Well," Robert said, "that is certainly the politest, most well mannered way I have ever heard that particular thought voiced."

"I'll say," Mickey agreed. "Nice, polite and yet, completely and totally true."

"And as close to the point as he can come, not knowing Caine," John Savage said.

"I think he's nailed it on the description though," Paul said.

Kermit nodded.

"So," Peter said while listening to his friends. "Basically what you are saying is....my dad is a jerk?"

"No," Barnabas said. "Your father is an asshole. Your dad, I have a feeling, is someone completely different from your father."

Peter turned and looked at Paul before he nodded almost to himself. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

"No thanks needed," Barnabas told him. "I am here to help those in need.... Still," Peter said. "Thank you."

Barnabas sighed. "You are welcome. Now, Kermit aside from wanting the love of your natural father, is there anything else you'd like me to tell you??"

Kermit seemed to think for a minute before he answered. "The powers I have," Kermit began slowly. "How can I... That is... Can you teach me?"

"We will begin tomorrow night," Barnabas said. "I do not think you can handle another shock tonight."

Kermit nodded and decided to stay and talk to his father while everyone else retired to the new house for sleep. He heard, as Peter and Paul were leaving, Peter's quiet question of "Paul, can we talk?"

And he felt some relief that maybe Peter was starting to realize he did not have to give up his family just for his father. "So," Kermit said. "Could you tell me how you ended up a vampire?"

************

Kermit made it back to the new house after making sure his father went to bed. He'd stayed and talked with him all night, and he'd learned a lot. He'd learned his father had the same sense of justice he did. He'd learned his father preferred permanent solutions to problems in the town and he'd learned that his father's anger was not something anyone with even an iota of sense wanted to incur. Of course, that was only barely scratching the surface. He knew his father had a lot more to tell him....and teach him....about who he was and what he could do. Kermit found himself oddly eager to learn. This was a somewhat new experience for him. Of course, he'd learned last night just from scratching the surface that they'd done that his family beat Paul's out for supernatural craziness and weirdness on a scale only comparable to the building of the pyramids or Stonehenge. This led to some interesting ideas. How would Cousin Blair handle meeting a real live....live? Was that actually applicable to his father? Vampire. Maybe someday he'd find out. This place was seemed safe. He'd heard from Paul that Jim was always looking for a safe place to vacation. Maybe he'd ask his father if it would be okay if his friends came. Of course, he'd have to tell him about certain people, person, really, that he didn't want to see in this town. Peter was confused, enough after all. He did not need Caine's presence to make it worse or try to lay a guilt trip on Peter about being here with Paul instead of at home with him where Caine could slap him around.

"Speaking of Peter," Kermit said as he came into the kitchen and found Peter and Paul sitting at the table talking. "How'd your talk go, Peter?" he asked as he sat across from him.

"It went great, Kermit," he said smiling and genuinely happy for the first time in quite a while. "How was yours?" "Very enlightening. I think I can safely say my father is 'good people'," he said.

"He seemed it," Paul replied.

"Hey, Paul," Kermit said. "John told me I was family to you guys right?"

"Yeah?" Paul questioned warily.

"Do you think he'd mind if I brought my dad to the next family reunion? I mean if our families are going to be supernaturally weird, they could maybe be supernaturally weird together."

Paul laughed, echoed eerily by someone behind them and Peter and Kermit both turned to find John in the doorway watching them. "I think it would be fine if you brought him along, Kermit," John said. "It might be interesting to see how our families mix."

"Thanks, John," Kermit said. "Oh, I'm pretty sure Blair would be safe here if Jim is still looking for a safe vacationing spot for himself and the Human Trouble Magnet."

"I'll pass along the message," John said. "So, who were those guys last night that Kermit's father put the fear of himself into?"

"The Singh Wah," Paul said. "We've had run-ins with them before but nothing like that. I can't believe they'd be stupid enough to attack us anywhere."

"I can believe it," Kermit said. "What I can't believe is that they were stupid enough to argue with a vampire over the town. Not even The Dark Warrior would be that stupid."

"Especially considering that your father has power that dwarfs yours and you made a fog so thick not even a Shambala Master could see through it, right, Kermit?" Peter asked with a grin.

"Right, kid," Kermit, answered. "So, you gonna start hanging out with your family again?"

Peter looked at Paul then and grinned. He grinned a full on Peter-smile that had not been seen in a while.

"You know, I think I am," Peter said. "I have a lot of catching up to do with my dad, here. I think I've been neglecting him for other, less important, people."

"Peter," Paul said. And Peter shook his head.

"No, Paul, let me work this out:..... 1, you and Annie....Mom...have always been there for me without expecting me to be anyone other than Peter.

"2, you and mom don't slap me to 'Bring home the lesson'.

"3, I don't have to do something I hate doing to make you proud of me.

"I realized last night what a real father is supposed to be; Kermit's father knew him barely ten minutes and he was proud of who he was. All of who he was. He doesn't make him feel like the life he lived without him is worthless or threaten to treat the people he cares about like dirt. He actually included us, last night. He wanted to know Kermit's friends.

"My father doesn't like me to mention dad or mom unless I'm referring to him or his wife. I don't even know them, not really. My dad hid in a temple and he dragged me right along with him. I hated it there. I wanted to be a normal kid. Paul, you and mom let me do that. You let me play baseball and have hair. You never tried to force me to believe something that didn't feel right. You let me find my own way in things. He won't. He thinks I need to be forced back into this mold he has in his head for me. He thinks I need to be the Peter he knew 15 or so years ago. And I'm not that Peter any more. I want to be This Peter. This Peter who is a good cop without all the mystical crap my father wants to force on me. That isn't my life and I don't want to be Kwai Chang Part II. I want to be Peter. And you and Annie and the guys, you let me be Peter. So, it's you, Paul, you and Annie, Carolyn and Kelly. You are my real family. You're the family that's proud of me no matter what, that cares about what I want for myself. So, Paul, you are my dad. You matter more. And I finally get it. Something else I'll have to thank Kermit's dad for helping me see, what do you think?"

"I think he'll say you figured it out for yourself, Peter," Kermit said. "But you can tell him if you want. I think he doesn't get many thank yous even though he takes care of the town. Everyone knows him and they like him for all that but I get the feeling human companionship is something that is seriously lacking in his life. So, if you guys get bored and wanna go back, okay but I think I'll hang around with him for a bit. I think he could use the company."

"That's what family does, Kermit," Paul said. "We're there for each other. And your father now counts as that."

"Yeah," John said. "If you have to get back there is always someone in our family, blood, extended, or otherwise, who would love to come out to a little town like this and meet another new member of the family. But until this mess with the Singh Wah is dealt with, I don't think any of us are going anywhere. Family also stands by each other so we're here for the duration." Kermit found himself smiling as he looked at them, well, three of them. The other two were either still in bed or out running but Kermit, looking at this crazy, mixed up and as supernaturally weird as his own father, family that had adopted him and were now adopting his father, suddenly felt very lad that he had been adopted in the first place, and gladder still that they would accept his living impaired father as one of them. Although, from what John said, the General had already said that in his journal. He guessed having someone take beaucoup amount of bullets for you on a beach, undead or not and so not going to die from them, kind of made you family right then and there.

"So," he said as he sat at the table with them. "Are we eating breakfast in or going out?"

***********************

A week later, Peter was sitting in the parlor of the new house talking animatedly to Annie and Carolyn while Kelly explored the house with Paul, Robert and Mickey. Kermit was over at the old house visiting with his father. He was actually giving Peter time with his family and Peter was grateful for it.

They had not seen the Wong brothers since the night Kermit's father had taught them what it was to face power. Peter hoped they took the hint, but he had a feeling they wouldn't. Oh, well, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Peter was talking with Annie while they were having Tea that Willie had made and brought over for them. Barnabas could cook when he was awake, but Willie insisted on it and Peter, figuring it was a long-time relationship, just went with it.

He looked up at a knock on the door and went to answer it wondering who it was. He got a shock when he opened the door and his father was on the other side. However, having realized the truth of family, he wasn't intimidated or going to let Caine bully him.

"What do you want?" Peter asked as he looked at him.

"I have come to take you from this place of darkness, my son," Caine said.

Peter snorted. "No, I'm on vacation with Kermit and Paul. I'm visiting with my family, and by the way, there is nothing dark here. Except for the Singh Wah that Kermit's father took out last week."

"There is a darkness here that I cannot see through," Caine said."You are in danger here."

"If you can't see through it, how do you know?" Peter asked.

"It's only dark to you because you've finally met a power your Shambala-ness can't see through. Well, I'm telling you I'm safe here. Nothing is stupid enough to try to hurt anyone in his town. Not unless they want their heads handed to them." "Peter...." Caine began. Then seemed to think. "If you are visiting with your family, why did you not ask for me?"

"Think about it and answer that one yourself, Pop," Peter said. "I don't have time to spell it out for you. Mom has tea and it's getting cold. Go get a room at the inn if you're going to insist on staying, but I gotta warn you, don't start any of your mystic shit in this town, you'll get the same slap down Jack and Tommy did."

He saw the hand rise and he braced for the slap but it never came. He opened his eyes hearing Caine gasp in pain and he stared. Kermit's father was holding his father off the ground by the hand that he'd been about to strike Peter with. And Kermit's father was levitating somewhat, so Caine could not get leverage against him.

"As I explained to the last people who wished to strike one under my protection," he said. "Not in my town."

And Peter heard the bones in his father's hand crunch as Kermit's father applied pressure to the hand and pushed back on the arm, as he was holding him up and away.

"I am Caine," his father gasped. "I came here for my son."

"He is not your son," Barnabas Collins said. "You may have made his body but the person he is was shaped by the Blaisdell family. You know, the family that does not try to force him to fit a mold. You are wrong, master Caine, and you have always been wrong. You cannot dictate another's life. Such only brings pain on you in the end. Either mental as the person completely rejects you, or physical, like this."

And Peter saw his father's face start to go blank as he tried to deny he was hurting. Peter saw him attempt to shift Kermit's father and he found himself almost sniggering as his father found he couldn't. "Now, I know you were not invited when Peter sent for his family and I know I do not want you here any more than Peter does, so I ask, why are you here?"

"I am here to remove my son from the darkness of this town. I told him Kermit was no longer safe for him to associate with."

"Oh, bad move, Pop," Peter, whispered, knowing Caine would hear him. Caine found himself facing an angry, glowing-eyed glare. "You dare to judge my son?" Barnabas asked coldly. "By what right? The right of your purity? False purity is often worse than honest rot as it only hides behind a holier than thou mask. You will leave this town or I will break you in half like the twig you are to me."

"You think you have the right to judge me?" Caine asked. Barnabas laughed.

"In this town, I have all the rights. I am the one you cannot read through. Kermit is my blood which impairs you there, but it is me you hit the wall with, not him. You have no power here, Caine. Nor do you have the right to order anyone in this town."

"I am here for my son," Caine said trying to get loose in an attempt to grab Peter.

"And I am telling you, he is not your son. You gave up the right years ago. Not when your temple was destroyed, but when you ran to it and dragged your son, who never really fit there, along with you and forced him to live your life. There is no excuse for what you did, no excuse and no making up for it. You haven't the right to the title parent and even less right to the word father. Peter, I was wrong, he is even less than my estimate of him. My father at least let me choose which part of the family business I would handle."

"Yeah, I was kind of thinking that," Peter said as he looked at Caine.

"Say what you've wanted to say to him for years, Peter," Barnabas said. "He isn't going anywhere and he is not going to touch you again. You owe him nothing, just as you ascertained last week."

And Peter nodded as he took a deep breath. "You are not my father," Peter said. "Paul Blaisdell has that honor. He's my dad, my father, my teacher, and my protector. He made sure I was happy doing what I was doing and he never assumed that just because he liked something, I would as well. He never assumed if it was right for him it was right for me. He never tried to force me to fit a mold. He is my father in all but blood and when I think about it, blood really isn't all that important. Paul is my father. He's the one I learned from, it's his legacy I'll carry on father to son, just like Kermit and his father. That's a legacy you can't change. I am Paul Blaisdell's son, not yours. I am Paul Blaisdell's family, not yours. This is my family, adopted or not; Uncle John, Kermit, another adoptee, Kermit's father, who by the way, is about to break your arm, Annie, Carolyn, Kelly, this is my family. This is the only family I want."

"But Peter," Caine began, "Your destiny lies with me..."

"Destiny?" Peter asked. "Was it my destiny to have two abusive foster families before Paul got me because my father listened to a senile old man and never even cared to look? Was it my destiny to be kept a virtual prisoner inside that damn cultist temple of yours and told the outside world had nothing but pain without ever being able to experience anything for myself? I am not Shaolin, Pop. I'm a Cop. And I'll be a cop until the day I die. I'm Peter and Peter is not Kwai Chang. So, just take your shit about destiny and go to hell with it! I don't fit in your world and all your slaps and lessons wont do a damn thing to change that. I have a family, Pop, and it doesn't include you!" Peter then turned to Paul and Annie who had been drawn by the shouting. Kelly and Carolyn were with them as well and he moved so he was standing with them. He watched as Barnabas dropped his father and he saw something he never thought he'd ever see: his father fell on his ass. Peter didn't know why but he was amused by it. "Apparently the Shaolin can't stand against someone with real power who actually knows when to use it and how," Peter said. "See, Pop, unlike you and your brethren in Shambala? Kermit's father doesn't sit back and let atrocities happen because 'That's how it is'. He goes out and meets it and he does his best to fight it. He doesn't hide away because he's afraid to live in the real world because he could possibly be 'tainted'. He's got real courage in him; Pop, he isn't afraid to live. And neither am I any more. I don't owe you anything. I don't owe you my life, my servitude, my gratitude or anything, because you've never done anything to earn them. So, go back to Chinatown and hide from the world, hide from everything because you're too holier than thou to get involved. He doesn't hide from the fact that he's killed in the past and will likely kill again. He kills to safeguard this town and his solutions get better results than your just beat them up kind. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty and bloody. He doesn't think everything his son did without him is bad. He was proud of Kermit after only knowing him ten minutes. I wish you could be proud of the person I am, but I guess that's asking too much, isn't it? Well, I don't need you to be proud of me because my dad and my family, they already are. So, go away. Find someone else to brainwash. You've lost me."

"If I were you," Barnabas, said while Annie hugged Peter comfortingly and everyone else glared at Caine, "I'd leave this town as soon as I could.You are not wanted here. Nor are you welcome."

"You are evil," Caine began. Again it was Peter who responded.

"Evil?" Peter asked in a sarcastic tone. "How is he evil? Is it because he drinks blood? Or is it because he's a vampire? Let me tell you, Pop, he has a heart. Which is more than I can say for you. You think he's evil because you can't read him. What? Only Shambala can be good? Only if a Shambala Master can read someone can they be good? Bullshit! You're in denial that someone can't be read by you so you automatically say they are evil because your Holiness can't read them. Well, You and your brethren in Shambala are wrong. And you're narrow minded, prejudicial and discriminatory, too. What gives you the right to judge? 2000 years of living away from humanity? I think that puts you in the least position to judge! You don't know how to feel, any of you. And I'm not confused before you even try that line. For the first time since you came back, Caine, I'm seeing things perfectly clearly. Family isn't who makes your body, not always, family is the place you feel welcome and safe and at home. And sadly, Pop, I don't feel that with you. Go away, I don't want to see you any more."

And the Blaisdale Family, Robert, Mickey, John, Barnabas and Kermit all went into the new house and shut the door, leaving one very shocked Shambala Master/Shaolin Priest standing and staring as, for the first time in his life, someone had stood up to him and won. He did not understand; how could Peter have changed so much in just a few weeks? What had removed the blinders Caine had so carefully constructed along with the confusion? He did not know. And he was confused as to how his son, his Peter who should have been malleable to his will, had just walked away from him and dismissed him, a Shambala master. How could that have happened? He looked angrily at the mansion and turned to leave. He would meditate on this and he would find the place he had gone wrong. And then, he would get Peter back. Somehow.

In the house, Paul and the others were now all sitting in the living room as Peter finally calmed down. He stopped and looked at his family, his chosen family and he found himself laughing. "Talk about a major pressure release," Peter said. "I've wanted to say that to him for a long time now. It felt....liberating."

"It was very entertaining," Kermit said. "To be honest, Peter, I've wanted to hit him for those slaps."

"So have I," Paul said. "I'm glad you finally got it off your chest, Peter."

"So am I, dad," Peter said. "So am I."

And he surveyed his family and he thought about what he'd said as he saw Kermit and his father talking. Father to son was right. Legacies passed from one generation to the next. And Peter thought, looking at Paul and then at his badge, he really was his father's son. His chosen father's son. Just like Kermit was his father's son through and through. And this was the way it was supposed to be. Not the way Caine wanted it, but the way it was. He was a Blaisdell even though he didn't carry the name. And that made him happy to know. He had a place and he wasn't confused about what it was any more.

"Hey, Peter," Kermit said. "You want to help me teach my dad to play poker?"

"Kermit, he's a sailor. I have no doubt he could clean all of us out, playing cards," John said with a grin. Barnabas chuckled and nodded. Yes he could. If he wanted to.

Which he didn't. Peter shrugged and dropped onto the couch with Annie and the girls and just watched his family, adopted or not, just be a family. He smiled and put his arms around his mom and sister. Life was good.

PS: Caine is still trying to figure it out 8oD