Two hours later, they were still searching, and Harm was growing increasingly concerned. They'd been in constant radio contact with the other teams and with Mac, so he knew that Brad's mother had arrived and was waiting anxiously at the picnic pavilion. The rain had started forty-five minutes earlier, and now he and Ben huddled miserably in their ponchos as they trudged down the path, calling out for Brad every few seconds.

"Dad?"

"What is it, son?"

"What if Brad was running away?"

Harm looked over at Ben. "Running away?"

"Yeah."

"What makes you think he'd do something like that?"

Ben shrugged, but didn't answer.

"Ben…?" Harm stopped walking, his hand on Ben's shoulder. "Answer me, son."

"It's just…" Ben kicked at a rock, then finally looked at his father. "He thinks his mother hates him."

Harm's stomach clenched. "What makes him think that?"

"He says all she ever does is yell at him."

Harm remembered what Mac had told him about Brad's family situation and sighed.

"Dad?"

Harm looked down into his son's worried gaze. "What?"

"We are going to find him… Aren't we?"

He squeezed Ben's shoulder. "We'll find him, son. I promise."

Ben nodded and they started walking again.

"So," Harm said casually. "Did Brad ever say where he would run away to?"

Ben thought hard for a minute before nodding. "He said he'd go to his uncle's house."

"Did he say where his uncle lives?"

"Nope. Just said he was cool."

Harm sighed and clicked the radio on. "Mac?"

There was a burst of static, and then her voice. "Here, Harm."

"Is Brad's mother handy?"

"She's right here. What's up?"

"Does Brad have an uncle?" he asked.

"Just a second." There was a moment's pause, and then she was back. "Two, why?"

"Is he especially close to either of them?"

Another pause, and then, "His Uncle Greg. Why do you ask?"

"And where does Uncle Greg live?"

Mac's reply was quicker this time. "Alabama."

Harm resisted the urge to groan. Six years old and on the run to Alabama. Not good. He clicked the radio on again. "Ben thinks Brad may be trying to get to his uncle." He didn't say running away. Running toward seemed somehow less terrible.

There were a few seconds of silence on the radio, then a simple, "Understood."

He pocketed the radio, his mind whirling, a mental image of the campground playing through his mind. A thought occurred to him and he groaned. Surely not. "Ben?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"Did you kids ever talk about the swamp?" There was a swamp on the property. It wasn't a big one, but it could still be a dangerous place for a small lost boy.

"You mean Dead Man's Walk?"

Harm quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "Is that what you call it?"

"Yeah." Ben looked vaguely awed. "It's full of snakes and alligators," he said. "Tommy told me that one time a group of Scouts was walking by the swamp and a giant man-eating gator grabbed a counselor and dragged him off." Ben's eyes were huge. "The next year, another group of Scouts found a skull." His next words were almost whispered, and Harm had to listen hard to hear. "There were teeth marks in it."

Harm swallowed his grin. "Do you think Brad might've gone that way?"

Ben considered that carefully. "I don't know."

"We'd better check it out." He keyed the radio. "Mac?"

"Yes?"

"Ben and I are going to check out the swamp."

"Okay. I'll let the others know"

Harm and Ben turned south along the trail that led to the swamp. For several minutes, they were quiet as their shoes squished in the mud and they periodically wiped rain from their faces.

"Dad?" Ben finally asked.

"Yes?"

"Why's everybody so mean to Brad?"

Harm looked over at him.

"I don't know, son."

Ben was quiet for a minute. "I like him," he said finally.

"I do, too."

Ben slipped his hand into Harm's, something that happened less and less often lately. "I'm glad you're here with me instead of off fighting somewhere like Brad's dad."

Harm squeezed Ben's hand. "I am, too."

They'd arrived at the outskirts of the swamp, and conversation ceased as they concentrated on looking for signs of the missing scout. Harm and Ben took turns shouting Brad's name and they both listened hard for any hint of a reply. The rain continued; an occasional rumble of thunder and flash of lightening drawing Harm's worried gaze to the darkening sky. If Brad was out here, he was wet, hungry, and probably terrified.

"Brad! Where are you!" Harm shouted his frustration and worry into the deepening gloom just as Ben slipped and went down, landing hard in the slimy mud.

Harm stopped immediately, bending down next to his son. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Ben rubbed his elbow.

Harm helped him up, wincing at the mud that covered the child's back from heel to head. Mac wasn't going to be happy about that. He sighed and turned around, shining his light in an arc through the surrounding scrub brush. The swamp was eerie at this time of night, with the steady drip of the rain, the vague musty smells of decaying plant life, and the annoying hum of mosquitoes. They hadn't had a downpour, so the heat of the day hadn't been washed away, and the resulting steamy warmth was uncomfortable, even though it was nearly dark. Decidedly not fun – especially for a lost little boy.

"Brad!" He yelled again, his voice swallowed by the expanse of wilderness all around. He sighed.

"Dad!"

Ben's sudden tug on his sleeve brought his head back down. "What?"

"I heard something!" Ben's excitement was almost palpable.

Harm shined his light around the swamp again. "Where?"

"Over that way."

Harm pointed the flashlight beam in the direction Ben pointed, illuminating a clump of trees on the other side of a particularly disgusting bit of slime covered swamp.

"Brad?" He called. "Brad, if you're out there, give a shout!"

He stared hard across the swamp, looking for the slightest sign of movement. At first, there was nothing, but then he thought he saw something move, and he twitched the light in that direction.

"Help me…" The voice was small and frightened, and Harm felt a surge of relief.

"Brad! Stay put! I'm coming to you!"

He keyed his radio. "Mac?"

"Yeah."

"We've found him."

"Thank God. Is he okay?"

"I'll let you know when I get over there. He's in the middle of the swamp."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I'll get back to you in a few minutes."

"All right. Be careful."

"Will do."

Harm turned to Ben, crouching down by his son's side. "Ben… I have a very important job for you."

"What is it, Dad?"

"I want you to stay here with the radio. I'm going to go after Brad, and I need somebody here on dry land who can stay in touch with your mom in case there's any trouble." He could've taken the radio with him, but he didn't want Ben in the swamp, and this way Ben could still feel like he was helping. "Can you do that for me?"

Ben nodded seriously. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Stay put, Ben. No matter what happens."

"Okay, Dad."

Harm hugged him quickly and then stepped into the slimy water, cringing when it flooded in over the tops of his shoes. Delightful. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, keeping up a running conversation with the boys as he moved, both to calm them, and to make sure Brad stayed where he was. By the time he reached the small island of dry land, he was covered to his waist in decaying plant matter.

"Brad?" No answer. "Brad? Where are you?"

"Up here."

Harm looked up, his gaze finally locking on a pair of frightened green eyes and a head of tousled hair. "Hey, Brad. That was a smart thing to do." He kept his words light, trying to ease the child's obvious fear. "I've never known a 'gator that could climb trees."

Brad gave him a weak grin in reply.

"Want to come on down now?"

Brad considered that for a moment, and then nodded, but didn't move.

"Come on, then. I imagine you must be hungry."

Brad nodded again, but still didn't move.

"Are you stuck?" Harm asked.

Another nod.

Harm held out his arms. "Jump," he urged.

This time Brad shook his head. "It's too high."

Harm walked around the tree, examining it carefully. Finding a reasonably low branch, he swung himself up. "Hi," he said conversationally.

"Hello, sir." Brad's voice trembled, and his face was tear-streaked.

"Shall we get you out of here?"

Yet another nod.

"All right then, let's see…"

Harm helped Brad climb slowly down from the tree, showing him handholds and footholds until the child dropped safely to the ground with Harm right behind him.

"Nice job," Harm said, with a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Ready to go home?"

"Is my mom there?"

Harm crouched down to Brad's eye level. "Yes, she is."

"She's mad, isn't she."

"Nope. Just worried."

Brad looked dubious.

"Very worried," Harm said firmly.

"She has the baby. She doesn't care about me anymore."

Harm considered that for a moment. "You know," he said finally. "Love's a funny thing."

Brad gave him a puzzled look, and Harm reached over to smooth his cowlick – which promptly popped back up again.

"Do you have a dog at home?" Harm asked.

Brad nodded. "Her name's Sadie. She's mine."

"How long have you had her?"

"Since Christmas."

Harm nodded thoughtfully. "Do you love her?"

Another nod.

"Do you love your parents less now that you have Sadie than you did before you had her?"

"No…"

"See…that's the funny thing about love. No matter how much you have, there's always room for more."

Brad still looked doubtful.

"I tell you what," said Harm. "If we get back, and it turns out I'm wrong, I'll buy you the biggest ice cream sundae you ever saw."

Brad's eyes grew wide. "Promise?"

"Promise." Harm stood up. "Now. How would you like a piggy back ride?"

********

"What's taking so long?" Debbie asked, pacing the length of the pavilion for what must've been the hundredth time. Mac watched her empathetically. She didn't know what she'd do if it had been Ben who'd gone missing.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon," she said.

It had been several minutes since Harm had radioed to say they were on their way back to camp, and Debbie was growing increasingly impatient. The other searchers had all returned and were resting at the tables in small groups, talking quietly and sipping the coffee that somebody had thought to provide. It was still raining, the type of steady drizzle that promised to settle in for the night. Mac rubbed the back of her neck and checked her watch.

She'd be glad to get home, get a hot shower, and get to bed. She didn't even feel like cooking. Maybe a pizza would do. She looked back towards the woods in time to see a bedraggled group emerge from its shadows and start toward the pavilion.

"Debbie," she said quietly. "Here they come."

The younger woman spun around, peering toward the woods for a single heartbeat before taking off at a run. Mac followed more slowly, giving Debbie a moment with Brad. She saw Debbie sweep her son into her arms, sinking to the ground with him, her head bent, her shoulders shaking.

Mac approached the group more slowly, crouching down to look at her bedraggled son.

"I see you found him, Ben."

"Yep," Ben said proudly, scratching at a mosquito bite. "Dad and me did."

"Dad and I," she corrected automatically.

"Dad and I," Ben said obediently. "He was in a tree in the middle of Dead Man's Walk."

"Dead Man's Walk?" Mac asked, lifting an eyebrow and glancing toward Harm, who grinned and shrugged.

"The swamp, Mom," Ben explained with all of his six year old patience. "It's 'fested with alligators. It's lucky Brad didn't get eaten."

"Infested with alligators, huh?"

Ben nodded.

"Then I guess you were all very lucky indeed."

"Yup."

"Did you go for a swim?" Mac asked, eying her son's mud covered body.

"Nope. Fell down. Dad swam, though."

"He did?" Mac looked toward Harm.

"Yup. Right through the swamp. Brad was on an island and Dad had to go get him."

Mac nodded. "I see. I'm glad the alligators didn't get Dad."

Ben gave her a look of disbelief. "No way, Mom. They probably knew he'd beat 'em up."

Mac nodded seriously. "You're probably right," she said. Standing up, she offered her hand to her son. "Ready to go home?"

"Yeah," He pulled her back down, whispering in her ear. "Dad needs a shower. He stinks."

Mac stifled a laugh, throwing a grin at Harm. "We can't have that, can we."

"Nope."

Ben turned toward his dad, stretching out a hand. "Come on, Dad. Mom says it's time to go."

Harm took Ben's other hand and the three of them headed for the car. Every few steps, they'd swing Ben back and then forward again, exchanging a grin at their son's squeals of glee. Like all children, he was in a great hurry to grow up – but still delighted by the simple pleasures of youth. Such was the paradox of childhood.

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

June 21, 2014, 1430 Local
Rabb Residence
Washington DC

Harm wrapped an arm around Mac's waist, watching the children tumbling about the yard.

"Think he's having fun?"

Mac laughed. "Sure looks that way."

Benjamin was the center of a group of boys who were currently involved in a rousing game of tag, their shouts of laughter echoing through the neighborhood.

"Can you believe he's already seven years old?" She asked, without taking her eyes off her son.

"Nope. Seems like just yesterday we were rushing to the hospital…"

Mac groaned. "Don’t remind me."

They almost hadn't made it, Mac being one of those odd people determined to disprove the prevailing theory that first time labor had to last for hours. It'd been less than forty-five minutes from the time her water had broken to the time Ben had made his appearance, and Harm had been half convinced his son would be one of those born in the back of a car. Luckily, they'd made it into the delivery room – barely – and Ben had been born with a head full of hair and lungs that would've made King Kong jealous. He hadn't slowed down since.

"He's a good kid," she said, smiling fondly as their son darted around a tree to tag a playmate.

"Yeah, he is." He bent his head to kiss her, a kiss that would've lasted much longer were it not for the collective groans of the group of six and seven year old boys.

Harm pulled back and grinned down at her. "Guess that means it's time for cake?"

Mac stretched up to kiss him one more time, just for the hell of it. Then she grinned. "Yep."

***** The End *****

AN: Smushies are a real taste treat in Cub Scouting in my neck of the woods. They are incredibly easy to make. You need refrigerator biscuits, Hershey's kisses, and hot oil. Flatten the biscuits until they will completely wrap around a kiss. Pinch the edges to hold them together in half moon shape. Gently drop them in hot oil until brown.