The first trucker he flagged down gave him a lecture about hitchhiking. "Don't you know how dangerous it is?" the older man asked rhetorically.

Sasha gritted his teeth and thought to himself, I would have to get a French trucker starting out, wishing his French wasn't as passable as it really was.

"To be honest, Mister, this is the safest thing I've done in weeks," Sasha confessed in fairly fluent French.

"Kids," the truck driver harrumphed.

Several rides later, Sasha crossed the border into France, awakened by the last driver jostling his shoulder. "Huh?"

"Nous sommes ici."

We're here, his weary brain translated. But where was here?

He looked out the window of the semi and breathed a sigh of relief. "Bienvenue a France." If the truck driver looked puzzled, it was only because he wondered why his teenaged passenger wanted to welcome him to his native country.

Now came the hard part. He had to find a way to where he lived. Unfortunately, they weren't even close to Paris and Paris itself was a fair distance away from the town he and the others called home.

But the trucker seemed anxious to move. "Vite, vite, depeche-toi," he shooed Sasha along, urging him to hurry.

"Okay, okay," Sasha mumbled, climbing down from the cab.

When he got to the road, he watched the truck disappear in a cloud of exhaust before he began walking. God, he was so tired. Luckily, it wasn't very long before someone else came along.

However, Sasha took one look and knew that his parents would definitely *not* approve.

"You looking for a ride, kid?"

"Um, yeah," he reluctantly admitted. He didn't know what he should do. On the one hand, they were a scurvy looking lot. Bikers clad in leather. Many of them bearded. On the other hand, he didn't have a lot of choices. And his hair was as long as theirs.

The leader of the, Sasha suppressed a nervous giggle, pack, beckoned, indicating that he should sit behind him on his motorcycle. Well, he thought with a smile, it's not as if I haven't ridden on the back of a Harley before. A couple of times with Grandpa. More than that with Da.

"You coming, kid? We're not getting any younger here, y'know."

Sasha no sooner sat down than the entire complement of motorcyclists took off en masse. He wrapped his arms around the leader's waist and held on for dear life. He wanted to close his eyes, but he wanted to be able to see his best opportunity to jump off. Just in case.

He knew it was morning again because they were stopping for breakfast. "You hungry, kid?"

"I—" Sasha's stomach growled, answering the question.

"Come on. Let's eat."

"But—"

"What is it, kid?"

"I don't have any money," Sasha confessed, certain that they would turn him away.

"So what? You gotta eat, don't you?" The leader placed an arm around Sasha's shoulder and walked him into the diner.

"Hey, Nancy," the biker greeted the middle-aged waitress. "Think we can do our best to fatten this one up?"

"Sure thing, Jack," she readily agreed, giving Sasha a big smile.

"You come here a lot?" Sasha asked.

"Yep. Where you headed?"

Sasha breathed in the smell of hot coffee and fresh biscuits. He was obviously in heaven. "Home."

"You say that like you haven't been there in a while, kid."

"Man, you have no idea how right you are," Sasha gazed longingly at the cherry danish under the glass.

"How do your folks feel about that?"

"It's a long story."

"We're not going anywhere for about an hour," the biker prompted.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The leader smiled kindly. "Oh, I've heard it all, kid. Trust me."

"Not this, you haven't. Believe me."

"So," the biker leaned forward on his elbows and asked in a low, conspiratorial tone, "You gonna tell me?"

"I could," Sasha allowed. "But then I'd have to kill you."

Despite his fatigue and his desire to get home as quickly as possible, Sasha refused to give Jack specific directions to where he lived.

"I'm sorry, Jack. You've been kinder than any of the truckers I rode with. But you can drop me over that way." Sasha pointed in a vaguely westerly direction.

Jack didn't mind. In fact, he admired Sasha's determination not to be taken advantage of by anyone, including those who outweighed him by a hundred pounds. "You take care, kid. Y'hear?"

"You're all right, Jack."

"So are you, kid."

Sasha walked the rest of the way home.

By the time he arrived, his feet hurt, his head ached, and his stomach was letting him know it was time to eat…again. But none of that mattered once he saw Declan standing on the front lawn.

He started to run.

Declan shouted for Sey. Sey came flying out the front door of Michael's house just in time to see Sasha launch himself at Declan. Luckily for both of them, Declan caught the teenager and held him fast.

"Oh, Da…" Sasha groaned against his father's chest. "I was beginning to think I wasn't going to see you again."

Sey watched with tears in his eyes, reluctant to interrupt them. But Sasha waved his other father over, pulling him into a threeway hug when he was close enough to touch.

"Dad!" Sasha managed to choke out as he was given the most heartfelt embrace he'd ever received in his young life. "I missed you guys!"

"What happened?" Sey asked as the rest of the family spilled out onto the grass.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" Sasha pleaded. Sey looked deep into his son's eyes and rightly concluded that something *very bad* had transpired.

Nodding his understanding, Sey said, "Later, then."

"You should have told us where you were," Declan chastised his son. "We wanted to come and get you, kiddo."

"I know. But I couldn't stand the thought of you guys getting hurt."

"Neither could we, Sasha," Declan admitted, letting some of his pain show through.

"I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't want to worry you."

"That's what parents do, kiddo," Declan said softly.

After virtually everyone touched, poked, and prodded Sasha to make sure that he was still among the living, Sey spoke up. "I know you haven't asked, but…there's someone here who needs to see you. With her own eyes."

Michael stepped forward, holding his daughter's hand. But he could no more prevent Skye from plunging herself into the middle of Sasha's group hug than he could stop her from loving the exhausted teenager.

"Are you okay?" Skye chanted over and over, squeezing her eyes shut as she hugged him within an inch of his life.

"I am now," Sasha said, placing a tender but chaste kiss on the top of her head.

Now he had everything necessary.