Patches

HOLA PEEPS! Well, this is it. The series finale. I hope I do it justice. As always you can contact me at liciousryan@gmail.com Stay safe, Ryan

PATCHES CHAPTER EIGHT

** SEVEN YEARS LATER **

"He's gone! I don't know where he is! God...I'll never be able to forgive myself if anything happens to him! Just get back to me as soon as you can, okay?"

I slammed the phone down in anger. I ran my fingers through my hair.

Why...why now?

I dashed into Thomas's bedroom and immediately started to look for clues.

The kid was way out of control, and I was determined to find out why. Ever since he had fallen into the London crowd a couple of years ago, year by year, week by week and day by day, I had seen my little boy...the small ten year old boy I had still remembered, grown into a rebellious wild teenager with a solid mind his own.

Lately though, had started to pull away immensely...swearing and cussing at me, blaming me for everything that went wrong in his life. He had gotten into this...this insane possy crew at his school, simply because I couldn't afford to let him go to a semi respectable institution.

I blamed myself for it every single day.

I sighed.

When he didn't come home last night, I knew I had to take drastic steps. I had finally swallowed my pride and called the cops. Something to be done with Thomas. I love that kid too much to just sit around and wait for things to fall into place.

A part of what was going on, reminded me so much of Jen...and the way she had come to her end.

Getting drunk. Staying out. Becoming a shadow of her former self. She was his mother, it was in his DNA. And look how THAT ended. No way I was gonna allow history to repeat itself.

As I rummaged through his things on his desk and inside his cupboard, as well as his drawers, I clenched my fists in sheer desperation as I didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Surely there had to be SOMETHING here which can explain his behaviour? He was a teenage boy! Seventeen! There had to be something...!

Oh my God.

As if inside a dream, I reached out with two fingers, careful not to touch it too much, in case of evidence, and my face was withdrawn of all colour.

The white powdery substance inside the small petite plastic bag was enough evidence and clearly enough proof to explain his recent behaviour.

And now he was gone.

He hadn't been home since yesterday!

God, where the hell was he?

**

A knock at the door made me jump up...if anyone would catch me here with a plastic bag what surely had to be cocaine inside my hands...my career would be more than finished.

I quickly stashed the packet inside my jacket pocket and quickly stood up, running to the door as quick as I could.

Getting downstairs, I opened it, only to see a police officer standing there, complete with a squad car.

"Vicar Josh Adams? I'm officer Davis. You're needed down at the morgue. You need to identify a body we found. I'm sorry to tell you, that it closely resembles your son, seventeen year old Thomas Adams."

**

My knees gave in.

My body seemed to slump onto the floor. I had no control left over my limbs. The officer reached out and caught me before I hit the floor.

"Vicar, I know this is a shock. But the sooner we can complete this identification, the sooner we can rule out that it's not your son. This is protocol unfortunately. Would you let me help you up?"

Step by step, the officer had to lead me to the car, where I surely had to resemble a virtual zombie as he pulled away from my house and we drove to the near by hospital.

All that kept running through my mind, was that any moment now, I could see my little boy, he might be seventeen now, but in my heart he was still that little boy I had raised...

Who had helped me out in the soup kitchens back in the village, who cried like a baby when I had to eventually tell him that his mother had died...only when he was older I told him how...a damn drug overdose.

And now...he was on cocaine himself? Lord Almighty. I can't...I couldn't handle another time in my life like seven years ago.

**

As I was lead into the morgue, I knew that I had to somehow brace myself but a part of my brain refuse to register what was waiting for me.

As the body was pulled out of the cold fridge-like compartment in where they were kept after their deaths, I closed my eyes and prayed to the heavens...please...not my boy...please let this not be Thomas...

As the sheet was pulled away from the boy's face, I couldn't get myself to look down...even if it wasn't Thomas, knowing that a young boy had died...it was horrible!

After a few breaths and open prayer to my Saviour, my eyes dared flicker down to where the boy's face was exposed...

...it wasn't Thomas.

"Oooh. Oooh God...no...it's not my son...thank you, Father...oooh boy..." I whispered all in one breath as I finally confirmed that it wasn't what I had thought. I was so sure that it would be Thomas on that cold slab.

But now, I still had no damn idea where he was!

**

As myself and the officer drove back to the vicarage, he received a call on his mobile phone.

I didn't bother trying to listen what was said, in my mind I was still inside that morgue, and I was still standing there with closed eyes waiting to see if my son was dead.

"Vicar? Vicar Adams?"

I snapped out of my trance.

"Sorry. You were saying, Officer?"

"I'm afraid we have to stop at the station. They have brought in one of the top drug related specialists in the field to help search for Thomas. Your son is not the only young boy who has gone missing these last few weeks, and your son going missing was just the cherry on the cake. They're waiting for you and some of the other parents to see him. Are you gonna be okay with that?"

I nodded slowly, and kept staring out of the window.

Where did everything go wrong?

Me and Thomas were so happy. So content...alas I knew where everything went to jack shit.

I just didn't wanna remember it.

In the same breath, two years ago, when he was fifteen, I had finally had the guts to tell him that I was not his dad, but rather his half brother. That my now, deceased father, had sex with Jen, and that he, was in fact his biological father.

Was there really a GOOD time to tell him that? I figured at fifteen he'd be able to understand and process it...I was wrong.

So wrong.

He began to rebel. He began to detest me. He began to be out of control, and he would start taunting me saying that why did he have to listen to me...because I wasn't his father and I would never be.

**

With dreading legs I got out of the csr at the police station. At that moment I really missed my previous life. In the village, amongst all the congregation of the Parish, the soup kitchens every Saturday, times spent with Thomas as a little boy.

When life was still awesome. Sigh.

Suppose we find him...what then? He's seventeen and he's using drugs. Rehab? Urgh. As if I have the money for that.

"Feel free to wait in the office, we'll send in the drug specialist in as soon as he arrives. Rest assured, Vicar Adams. We WILL find your son," said the officer, to whom I have a faint smile before placing myself in a chair inside the small remote office.

I closed my eyes. Where the hell was he? What could have possibly made him run and take off?

I knew more than enough what drugs could do to a person's mind and body, being a Vicar I had literally seen it all.

But this...this was my OWN SON! I failed him! I failed him as a parent!

Tightening my arms around my slender waist, I heard rapidly approaching footsteps coming towards the office.

Right...The so called drug expert who's gonna help me find Thomas. Yeah right. What's he gonna do that several police officers and including I, couldn't?

The door open rapidly. No nonsense.

"Mr Adams? Good afternoon, my name is Detective Ryan Xavier..."

**

It was like time had frozen.

Two pairs of eyes stared at the other as if they did not register what exactly they were seeing.

My hands were sweaty against the arms of the chair I was sitting in.

My God...was it really him?

"Patches..." came the whisper, in sheer disbelief.

Even he himself, looked as stumped as I had ever seen him.

It has been seven years. Seven whole years since I had received that call from the Parish in Chelsea, and I had taken the job without even thinking, in order to get away from him...Jen's death...my father being Thomas's biological dad...

...running away from what I held dear. And look how THAT turned out. My son was missing and he was high as a kite on cocaine.

Patches stood there, not moving an inch. His eyes were like golf balls. The past seven years were more than kind to him.

He was as handsome as ever, a little more built than what I had remembered, more muscle on his body, both the shirt and trousers he was wearing was fitting him super tight.

His long flowing blond hair...was gone.

Replaced by a spiky short blond style, he looked sexy as hell. The man I had lost my heart to, when he had the entire village believed he was a homeless man who in fact, was sent there to investigate...a drug mule, who happened to be my ex from high school, Tommy.

Waves and waves of recognition and memories flowed over us both, before he closed the door and walked slowly over to me.

"Josh...why are you here? They told me a father needed help to find his seventeen year old son who was using drugs. But what are YOU doing here? It can't be...don't tell me...Thomas? He's the boy who's missing? And using drugs? It can't be!" he demanded, his left hand clenched into a tight fist.

It came as no surprise.

They were always close, Patches and Thomas. From the moment they had met. Thomas the one who had actually introduced us in the first place on a rainy afternoon at the soup kitchens.

To this day, Thomas still has the stuffed teddy bear that "Uncle Patches" had given him.

Seeing him, brought back so many regrets...and I somehow knew, looking at this handsome, beautiful man before me...that if we had stayed in the village, if I had forgiven Patches for being the reason ten year old Thomas was kidnapped by Tommy all those years ago...this, wouldn't have happened in the first place.

"Josh! Focus! It's Thomas who's missing, am I right?"

Not taking my eyes off him, I slowly nodded, before I felt a single tear rolling down my eye.

Patches swallowed. And hard at that.

He pulled out his walkie-talkie, and sent out a message, I presumed, to his fellow officers working on the case.

"I want you all, to tear this place apart. If I find that ONE of you didn't do his job, y'all are SACKED! I don't care what other cases you're working on, this takes preference! Over."

Patches then walked over to me, so we were face to face. He reached out and placed a shaking, angry hand on my shoulder. I stifled a moan when he touched me...God, how I had loved him ...

"We'll find him. I promise you. I...I love that kid almost as much as you. I'll bring him back to you. Okay?"

His hand made me stars. I couldn't get any words out. The man of my dreams were suddenly back in my life after seven years. First my son was missing and then I find out he's using drugs...and now...suddenly Patches was back.

"Josh!"

...was all I heard, as my body, once more gave in and I felt myself sinking towards the floor.

**

"Josh? Buddy...wake up!"

My eyes flickered open. I was back inside the Vicarage in Chelsea.

"Where.. What...Thomas? Thomas!"

"Sshhh...it's all under control. Every single one of my men are on the case. We'll find him. I told you, we will."

I sat back down. I should really stop this annoying habit of fainting every time something terrible happens. It hasn't happened in nearly seven years, the last time Patches was in my life.

"Are you really gonna ignore me, Josh? Seven years is a long time. You just...upped and left and I still can't understand why you did what you did. We were happy. We...we were in love. God, man. I'm standing here and looking at you and I still get chills at what we had. I never, ever felt love like that ever again. And, let's be honest, look at me. I could have gotten some serious ass over the years."

He was smiling that beautiful smirk he always had, a few lines and cracks had creeped into his face over time. Made him even sexier. I knew he was trying to relieve some of the tension between us.

Gingerly I stood up, and as always, he fried to move forward in case I stumbled or fainted again. I held out my hand in averment, signalling to him that I was fine.

"Josh, talk to me. I need to know what happened. How on earth did a cute, smart, generous little boy such as Thomas, grow up to get involved with drugs? Josh, I don't understand it. You're a good father. You adore that boy. How...how did this happen?"

As he spoke, he once more placed his hand solidly on top of my shoulder. I looked up at him, fully expecting to see his long blond hair...so much has changed.

"I finally told him how Jen died when he was fifteen. And I finally had the guts to tell him I was his half brother. You know how hard I took that. I wanted to protect him. I love him. These two years has been a nightmare. He's not the same little boy you knew, Patches."

His phone rang.

"Xavier. I'm on my way."

"What? Patches, what's wrong? Did they find him?"

"We have a lead. A strong one. Kook, maybe its better if you stay here..."

"Not a chance. Take me with you. Patches, stuff DNA, I am his father! I need to see him!"

It took Patches aka Ryan Xavier about two seconds to change his mind, seeing the fire in my eyes, and we both, as if the past seven years never had happened, chased out of the vicarage and into his car.

**

"Are you sure THIS is where he is? Patches...this is the most dangerous part of Chelsea! I can't...damn you, Thomas, you stupid, stupid boy! Why? Urgh!"

Frustration tended to take over my body.

Patches reached over and held my hand inside his. His thumb caressed my knuckles. A warmth like I haven't felt in years spread through my body.

It was electric. Passionate. God...if he had managed to get this kind of reaction out of me with only a touch of my hand...imagine if we were naked in bed...

Ryan Xavier stopped the car. He looked at me with concern in his eyes.

"Last chance. We don't have time. You sure you wanna do this?"

The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them...

"As long as I am with you, I know I'm safe."

For a solid second, the detective seemed to lower his guard, as his eyes softened up. It was literally only for a split second...he was damn well focused on the job at hand.

We both got out, and surveyed the area.

It was the most dark, most dangerous, most dodgy part of Chelsea imaginable. A feeling of helplessness overcame me as I saw Patches withdraw his gun.

This was serious, wasn't it?

My son was around here somewhere. He had run away from me. Away from his home. I knew he was on drugs and obviously didn't think clearly, but it still HURT!

Slowly, carefully, me and Patches walked ever closer to the entrance of the building, that looked it could be collapsing any given moment.

As we neared the corner, we heard a raw cry of pain, a little silent roar from somewhere inside.

Patches showed me to keep quiet, and to allow him to walk in front of me.

As we neared the entrance, I heard a voice that I knew very good and proper...

"Don't shoot! Please! I beg you!"

Patches stopped. He knew who that voice belonged to.

So did I.

His hand shook...whether it was with rage or with fright, I didn't know.

His eyes hardened and signalled me to stay. I refused. As usual, he rolled his eyes. It was like nothing had changed in seven full years.

Patches reached out and gripped the door handle. He gently turned it open without making a single noise. He was an experience cop after all, now turned detective.

As we walked inside, the place STANK of rot...I had to quickly place my hand over my face to keep me from coughing out loud.

It was then, that we heard more...

**

"You think we're scared of ya? Little daddy's boy like you? Ain't no working like that! We clever, boy! Ain't like you! Go ahead, shoot him! Let your daddy find your dead body like his trash!"

Patches moved with the speed of a ninja.

He kicked over a can of empty Coke which was laying on the floor, straight into one of the surrounding walls. It clattered against said wall with a thunderous noise.

Suddenly, all was quiet.

"What the fuck was that?" came the whisper on the other side of the building.

"Da hell I know! Go and check, will ya?"

Patches signalled to me to keep quiet and stand aside.

For a change, I didn't argue with the man.

There were only two of them, thank God. I knew Patches could defend himself even if they had guns. He had the experience.

Slowly, gentle footsteps could be heard.

Someone was obviously coming to check who or what had made the noise.

As soon as there was the SLIGHTEST of movement around the corner of the wall, Patches grabbed him!

It was a genuine punk!

Not much older than Thomas himself.

He was squirming around, his eyes red, white and bloodshot, and clearly on a heavy amount of drugs. Patches sedated him by making him pass out, for a brief moment I thought he had choked him to death, but the boy was still breathing, just knocked out.

Now, there was only one boy remaining.

**

"Please...lemme go! My dad...I'm all he's got!"

Both of us could hear Thomas screaming in sheer agony. My heart was breaking at the noise and I'm pretty sure Patches' was too.

"You should have thought about that before conning us! Church boy like you! Fuck about! Making like you're this big coke cracker meanwhile you're working for the old bill! You need killing, you do!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

It was like looking at Hercules himself.

Patches finally let it be known that he was there, the older punk with his reddish hair and acne filled face, frozen on the spot with a knife inside his hand.

It was pointed straight at Thomas, who was wet, sweaty, filthy and in pain, with plenty of bloody hashes of where that same knife must have made contact with his skin. He looked like had been chopped for dinner! My God!

I wanted to break that punk's face!

Thomas looked at me, his eyes lit up in sheer relief...all I saw in those blue eyes was nothing but pure love...until he glanced at Patches.

A frown as big as the Sahara desert spread across his face... Before finally putting two and two together...

"Uncle Patches! He's got a knife!" he shouted in horror as the punk kid dashed towards Ryan.

Ryan Xavier expertly thwarted the attack by quickly dodging and grabbing the idiot by his shoulders.

He kicked at the knife inside the kid's hand, which scattered onto the floor. Patches pulled his cuffs from his back pocket and quickly did what cops do best.

"You, you little cunt...you and that fucker over there, are BOTH under arrest! You're lucky as hell I don't TEAR YOU APART!" Patches screamed violently into the kids face, saliva splattering as he did so.

I raced towards Thomas as quickly as the punk was safely cuffed, and helped him up.

"My God...my boy, oh God you're bleeding..."

"Dad, I'm fine. Just a few gashes. It will heal. I'm so glad to see you! I'm so sorry! So, so sorry!" Thomas cried as he clung to me, his arms around my neck and digging his face into my chest.

As I did countless times as he grew up, I held him tightly in my arms, kissed his hair and rubbed his back to calm him down.

In seventeen yeara that hadn't changed.

My boy.

MY BOY.

**

"Hey there, Kid. Still remember me?"

Me and Thomas turned around as Patches walked over to us, the police van having loaded the two punks and having drove away. A few more cops was waiting for Thomas to make a formal statement.

Something I would also like to hear.

Thomas sniffed before slowly releasing me. He tenderly, still sore from all the abuse he had gotten, walked over to Patches.

"You don't know how I missed you..." he whispered, tears running down his face.

"Ditto," was all that Patches said before he enveloped Thomas in a brutal, and loving hug. The two of them stood in unison, as I couldn't dare to look away.

And I was reminded of a ten year old Thomas, who told me that the homeless man who was sitting in the soup kitchen, all alone and wet as a dog, wanted some more soup...these two were tight from the beginning.

And the sole reason me and Patches met in the first place.

Funny how Thomas, who had introduced us...was the one who had brought us back together.

In some form, at least.

**

"Young man, I don't mean to be a drag, but you owe your dad and me an explanation. What happened here? What's going on? Why did those two kids want to kill you?" Patches asked Thomas, seriously, as he finally released him from the hug.

Thomas wiped his eyes and grabbed his backpack, which was situated where he had been held captive. He pulled out...oh wow, was that... ?

The stuffed teddy bear that Patches gave him all those years ago. Busting at the seems by now. He never went to sleep without it as a little boy.

Come to think of it...it's been a while since I had seen it...

"This. I placed a listening device inside the bear. This is how I knew what they were doing. I gave it to one of their girlfriends as a birthday present. Its ALL on there! I lost my mom to drugs. I wasn't gonna lose my friends as well. They were targeting us. School kids. By offering them free samples of drugs until they were hooked solid. Once they were hooked, they had to have more. That's how they made their money. Those two are in my class in school. I decided to expose them."

I dunno who's eyes were wider after that statement, mine or Patches...

"You...you did...what?" I shouted in sheer morbid disbelief.

"Dad..."

"No! No, Thomas! You have any idea what has been going through my mind these last few hours? I even had to identify a body, thinking it was YOU! How can you do this to me?"

"Josh, calm down..." Patches tried but I was on fire.

"Don't! Don't you talk to me!" I screamed and took hold of Thomas.

"We're out of here. Thanks for the help, Ryan, we'll manage from here..."

"DAD, LISTEN TO ME!"

Thomas was angry more than I had ever seen him.

Patches stood aside as father and son faced off.

"Thomas. Don't you yell at me..."

"Then listen! Please!"

I caught Patches eye, who shrugged his shoulders. This was between me and Thomas.

The boy handed over the stuffed bear to Parches.

"Dad, when you told me that Mom overdosed on meth, I was angry. Not sad, because she didn't deserve my sadness. She treated me like scum! But she was still my mother. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing. But if I had to be convincing, I couldn't. You would have stopped me. You know you would have."

I looked down at the floor, knowing full well that he was right.

"I didn't sniff or use any of the cocaine. You can test me. I only wanted to expose them. Before they did to me and my fiends, what drugs did to mom."

"Kid, where would you even get an idea like this from? Surely you realised how dangerous it was?" Patches asked, still holding the bear inside his hands.

Thomas smirked and his eyes shone.

"From you. It's what you would have done. I told you, I missed you."

Tears rolled down my eyes.

Patches' influence on Thomas as unparalleled. The boy adored Patches as a boy. He damn well loved him now as a teenager. Even after all these years.

"Uhm...so what am I supposed to do with this?" Parches asked his voice hoarse with emotion, looking at the stuffed bear.

"Everything the police needs to nail those two is on there. Stuffed inside. Memory cards. Earphones. Technology. I'm not a little kid anymore," Thomas said, looking straight at me as he spoke.

I couldn't have agreed more. What a stunning, resourceful and smart boy he was. It warmed my heart to see.

I should have known he wouldn't use drugs. God. He never turned against me. He was...trying to protect me from finding out what he was doing ...suddenly it all made sense.

I walked over to my son, my beautiful handsome boy, a man now in so many words...and hugged him to me.

"I love you, Thomas," I whispered, and I felt him hug me tighter as I finished.

"One last thing...dad, Uncle Patches..."

Thomas took his backpack and swung it across his shoulders. Although not blood related, his swag and body language was so much like that of Patches.

"You two, sort this out. Whatever this is. Dad, I'm seventeen. I'm not ten anymore. I know you're in love with him. And Uncle Patches, you love my dad as well. You have to be blind not to see it. Sort it out. Please."

Thomas smiled at both of us, before he walked over to the cops to give his side of the story.

That left me and Patches aka Ryan Xavier, all alone.

Yikes.

**

"So, you're a detective now. What happened to the secret agent job?" I asked, breaking the more than awkward silence.

Patches placed his hands inside the pockets of his trousers

"I just...reading the letter you left me...saying that you would never be able to relax if we were serious...because my job was so dangerous...when I had the opportunity to make detective, I jumped at it. Somehow, I always hoped I'd run into you again. I purposely avoided jobs that was in London, not knowing if I'll run into you. But when I was told a teenager had been kidnapped...or rather having run away, however you wanted to say it, and it was drug related, I couldn't say no. You know why. I just never in my wildest dreams thought Thomas would be involved."

Silence, yet again.

"Did you ever think about me?" Patches asked.

I found myself moving closer and closer to him.

Every second.

"There are no words to describe what I felt ever since I left the village. You are my soulmate. The man I love. Back then, I was angry. I blamed you for Tommy kidnapping Thomas. When in reality, you only ever tried to protect us."

Patches moved close to me. I could smell his aftershave. The same he used, still after all this time.

"You know how I felt about you...feel, about you. I can't get you out of my mind, Josh. You represented everything I ever wanted in a man. Then you upped and left. I was ruined, man. Would you believe me if I told you I haven't been with any other person, male or female since I had last seen you? May the good Lord kill me now, if I'm lying. It's true."

"Patches, I...God...so much time...come here, you big oaf!"

Two souls, two bodies, two hearts...reunited after seven years apart.

Patches' lips on mine felt like coming home. He held me so tight, so tender, caressing my face with both his hands, as if he was scared I would disappear if he didn't...

In turn, I wanted run my fingers through his long blonde hair, only to discover and remember it wasn't there anymore...his mouth tasted of peppermint...he was my man.

My one and inly.

No man would ever come close.

"Alright! Fuck yeah!" I heard coming from the entrance as we saw Thomas jump up into the air out of sheer happiness, his first pumping.

He saw us kissing. And we definitely had his approval.

Patches smiled inside our kiss, leaning in for more, before nuzzling my neck. I got the chills as always. This man...he was my Omega.

I couldn't live without him.

"I love you, Josh. I love you, so much..." I heard him whisper, what must have been the millionth time he had said it since we first met.

"You...you better start to grow your hair out. I ain't liking this spiky mess you have going on here!" I replied, kissing his shoulder.

"I'll have you know girls AND guys are crazy about me..." he snickered into neck.

"Are we really doing this? I know it's probably crazy...but I've been lost without you. You came into my life so unexpectedly...just another homeless man from the village. And you ended up being the love of my life," I whispered.

Patches released me, and stood before me. Hands at his side. Suddenly he stretched out his right hand, and with a smirk, he said:

"Vicar Josh Adams, my name is Ryan Xavier. Its so nice to meet you."

"What...?" I managed to choke out between laughs.

He joined me in laughter as he took both my hands in his.

"Baby, this is a new start. I can't promise it will be without fights, hardship or even troubles. But I do promise you this...I will LOVE and CHERRISH you every single fucking day..."

"...language!"

"That's not even getting old! I missed you! I love you!" Patches yelled in sheer jubilation as he pulled me towards him once more and kissed me like it was the last day on this green earth.

Like the Bible said...my seven worse years had just come and fine.

My seven "good" years was starting from that moment on.

With Ryan.

With Thomas.

With Patches.

Together.

** FIVE YEARS LATER **

"Dad, do you even KNOW how to put this thing on?"

"Why don't you ask your dad? I'm a Vicar, not a police officer!"

"Listen to him, Thomas. Vicar knows best," Patches smiled as he walked into the room, and straightened out Thomas's uniform.

The police badge displaying his name shone brightly in the morning sun.

"You ready for you first day on the job, Kid?" he asked, his eyes full of unshed years.

He did, as I jokingly asked him to, five years ago. His long flowing locks was back... only this time, with a subtle hint of grey inside the strands.

Even I was beginning to grey out a little.

Thomas was now twenty-two and was starting his career as a police officer inside the village, this same village where he and I had grown up in.

We returned. Chelsea was never our home. It could never be.

Patches, was still a detective and a good one at that, in fact, he was the one who had put in a good word to have Thomas live out his dream of following Daddy Ryan in his footsteps.

Pride shone out of me, as I looked at both my boys.

I stepped forward, and Thomas most probably expecting me to hug him, frowned as I offered him my hand instead.

He smilingly shook it. I knew he understood.

He was a man now, and this was how men did things.

"Your mom would have been so proud to see you. I know she would be," I whispered.

Thomas smiled sadly, and nodded. Words weren't needed.

"You be careful out there. You hear?"

Another nod, and suddenly, he was in my arms.

A twenty-two year old grown man hugging his father tightly, and his father embracing him back, as it was meant to be.

"Thanks for everything, Dad. I love you...you were always there, even though I'm not really your son. You mean the world to me," I heard him whisper, softly, so only I could hear him.

I caught Patches' eye, and he mouthed "Love you" to me.

What a journey it has been.

**

As Patched and I walked I to the community hall, where we had first met, I took his hand in mine.

No longer scared of what the Parish would say.

They were so happy to have me back, they immediately accepted my marriage to Patches.

They fondly remembered him from his time he spent there as homeless, and even more so as he had rescued Thomas when he was kidnapped twelve years ago.

My boy was all grown up.

Patches was my husband.

I was his.

"When was the last time I told you, I loved you?" Patches asked, kissing my temple.

"When we left the house?" I said, cheekily, holding him around his waist.

"Can't believe we actually made this work. We did it, my old friend. I agree with Thomas. You're my whole world. Always have been," Patches said, his hair flowing around his face with the gentle breeze.

As usual, I tucked it in behind his ear, and held his hand, squeezing it lovingly.

"Vicar?"

We both turned around simultaneously.

An old lady of the Sister's Union stood there, with her arm around a young boy. He was clearly homeless himself, his eyes watery and his clothes full of dirt. Skinny as hell.

"His mother abandoned him two weeks ago. We just had gotten word she had been found dead, I'm afraid. Another one of those overdose cases. Vicar, do you think it's possible to have him stay with you and your husband for a while?"

Two pairs of eyes met. And we were in total agreement.

"Hey buddy...you wanna play some football outside?" Patches asked as he knelt in front of the boy, who slowly nodded.

Patches grabbed his hand and looked at me.

"I'll look after him. You go and write your sermon for Sunday mass. I love you!"

I watched lovingly as the two of them sped off and eventually as the now, orphaned boy had the time of his life having a kick about with Patches.

In a world where drugs ruins so many lives...I couldn't believe this was still happening.

People like Patches and now, Thomas did their best to fight narcotics the best they could, but as we all knew, there was only so much they could do.

That little boy, has been robbed of his mother, forever. Do you think the drug pushers care one little bit?

All they cared about was their next fix and making money.

The little boy scored a goal past Patches, and giggled like he was being tickled to death. For a few seconds, he looked like any happy ten year old boy.

I knew from the smile on his face that Patches had gone easy on him.

Ryan Xavier, you bloody legend.

But to me...he'll always be...

PATCHES.

**

THANKS FOR READING!!

Wow. It's been unreal.

THANK YOU for all the support. I hoped I did you justice.

Love, Ryan

liciousryan@gmail.com