Overcoming Lies

Summary: Hurley breaks through to his son before it is too late. Written for the SpankVent Christmas challenge over on Livejournal
Warning(s):  Mentioned Canon-violence, including torture scenes; Spanking; spoilers for American Assassin; AU; self-harming

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"How do you feel, Old Man? Hurts, doesn't it? But what makes it worse is knowing that the reason you're hurting is because of someone you trusted not caring as much as you thought they did... isn't that agonizing?" Ghost was as close as he could get, whispering the words into Hurley's ear, making it clear that he wasn't really referring to Hurley or his pain. He made another slice with his knife; just enough to cause pain, but not enough to cause lethal damage. He was going to drag this out until Hurley knew exactly how betrayed he had felt and knew that this was pay back.

A big part of Hurley accepted the pain; welcomed it, even. Because, as far as he was concerned, it was deserved. He hadn't fully believed Ronnie was back, even seeing the photos. He'd been convinced that the kid was dead; that he'd lost the son he so desperately wanted. And it was his own fault, for not insisting on seeing the evidence for himself. He couldn't blame Ronnie for taking this path; it only hurt that there were so many who'd had to suffer for the kid's need for revenge. "Do what you have to, to me, son. But the others? The agents? Innocent people in the city? They don't deserve what you're planning."

"Don't call me that!" Ronnie snarled, pulling back abruptly and looking away. Had Hurley not sounded sincere in his request- an order, really, as it hadn't been phrased as a question- he would have ignored it, but it was obvious the older man didn't care how Ronnie was hurting him. Ghost frowned unhappily. If Stan didn't care about himself or what happened to him, what he was doing was pointless. Unless... "Maybe that's part of the punishment, Old Man..." He turned back around to face Hurley. "The fact that innocents will be suffering because of what you did, or didn't, do...."  His voice was steady and harsh. His attempt to make Hurley believe he didn't care about any of the older man's words would have been perfect... if there hadn't been the tiny tenseness in his jaw. The slight twitch of an eyelid. The faint tremor of his lower lip. Deep down, he did care, and he regretted the hurting of innocents. He swallowed hard, refusing to let Hurley derail his revenge by making him second guess his choices.

"You can try to tell me that, son, but I know you better than that," Hurley said. "You've gone far, but it's not too late to turn back. Whatever you do to me, I know it's because I failed you. I failed to investigate when they told me you were dead. When they showed me the bodies of the rest of your team." His voice broke, despite his best efforts. Nothing Ronnie did could even touch on the pain of that moment.

Ronnie paused at that, an almost hesitant frown forming on his face before he firmed his resolve. "Don't try and lie to me... They made sure everyone knew I was alive. They took videos of me, along with the promises of every, thing they would do to me if certain demands weren't met. They took several of those videos. Each and every time, a few days later, the things they promised to do to me were done. Their demands weren't met. There is no way you didn't know I was alive...." His voice was furious, but underneath was an uncertainty that hadn't been there before. He'd heard the emotional pain in Stan's voice. It was obvious the older man believed what he was saying; which meant Stan really had believed him dead.

"I didn't." Hurley's voice was soft; not because he was hesitant, but because he didn't want to stop Ronnie from doing what he needed to. But he couldn't hold back the truth any longer. "I planned to bring you home. Soon as the mission was over. Get both of us out. Retire...." He shook his head. Those dreams had died when he thought he'd lost his son.

"W... what?" Ronnie's voice caught in his throat as confusion and dawning realization began to creep over him. "...No... no... you... you had to know... they sent videos..." His breathing began to quicken as, for the first time since beginning his vengeance quest, he began to question what he ‘knew’.

"I don't know if they sent the videos, or if they told you they sent the videos. But I didn't see them." If Hurley sounded tired, it was because he was. Tired and heartsick. That pain and grief of losing Ronnie had shattered him with the force of it. It was why he'd told the new recruits he'd never come for them. He couldn't afford to care again.

Ronnie could tell Stan was telling the truth. Whatever videos had been taken, sent or not, Hurley hadn't seen them. The older man hadn't been aware Ronnie was still alive. Had believed him dead. An almost primal growl started low in his stomach as all the pain, disappointment, fear, hurt betrayal, and fury coalesced and began to bubble up, frothing out of him like so much poison. Nearly hyperventilating, Ronnie began to throw anything he could get his hands on at the walls and other items, stalking around the room until he was close enough to the walls to begin beating on them with his fists, howling in angry anguish. All this time, he'd blamed Hurley for leaving him, but the man had obviously been unaware... which meant he wasn't responsible for Ronnie's broken state. He wasn't responsible for him becoming Ghost. He no longer had a target for the pent-up rage and he didn't know what to do with that.

Hurley couldn't watch for long. Every part of his being ached to hold his son, but he was chained up. Unable to reach out to Ronnie. But he tried to reach him with his words. "I love you, son. I know how much you've been suffering. How much you're suffering." His voice was very gentle as he said, "I still want to bring you home."

Ronnie tried to ignore the gentleness being offered to him. While slamming his fists into the walls, bruising and cutting them badly, he was thinking about everything he'd done in his quest to destroy Hurley. Finding out the man had been innocent of what Ronnie thought chilled him as if he'd been dunked into freezing water. He didn't deserve the man's gentleness or kindness and he certainly didn't deserve to go home. Could he even call Hurley's place home any longer? After everything he'd done? Gasping in shallow breaths, he was surprised to find himself crying. He obviously couldn't continue on with torturing Stan. He could have continued in his quest to set off the bomb, but given the fact Hurley would continue to try and stop him and he couldn't bring himself to kill the older man, that option was more hassle than he wanted to deal with. Especially since his desire to destroy had deflated along with finding out the truth. He gasped out a tiny choking noise, very close to sobbing, but managing to stop himself before it reached that point. It took only a matter of seconds to come to a decision and he spun around, stalking back to where Hurley was chained. "The bomb is in the crate over there..." he whispered gruffly, motioning his head toward the crate in question. He refused to look Hurley in the eye- he didn't want the older man to see his tears or his shame at his actions- though the broken tone, in his voice likely gave him away anyway. Instead, he quickly released the chains he'd used to restrain his old mentor. As soon as Hurley was loose enough to untangle himself, he backed away and moved toward the exit. If he wasn't going to blow anything up or kill Stan, he needed to make his escape.

His injuries meant he couldn't move nearly as fast as he would have normally, but Hurley had been prepared for Ronnie to take off. Or at least try to. As soon as he was free from the restraints, he was moving into the younger man's space. He didn't scold. Didn't censure. Didn't fight. Instead, he did the one thing he'd desperately wanted to do since facing the loss of his kid. He wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Ronnie, given his injuries. "You think I'll let you go again?" he whispered hoarsely.

Ronnie froze in place, torn between his desire to flee and his need to sink into Stan's arms and just be held. "Y... You need to let me go..." he whispered, his voice rough from his previous outburst and the fact he was so close to tears now. "Everything I did... They'll kill me for it. If you're in the way, they'll kill you too..." He tried to keep his voice clinical and detached. He failed.

Hurley hugged tighter. "I thought I lost you once and that nearly destroyed me. I am not letting you go again, son. You can try and fight me, but I'll outlast you. Just like always."

Ronnie didn't even try and argue that Stan was wrong. He knew the older man was right. He'd always been more stubborn and able to outlast Ronnie's own stubborness. When Stan Hurley wanted Ronnie's cooperation, he almost always got it. Just because he was Ghost now didn't make it less true, to his chagrin. Ronnie couldn't help but let out an amused snort at that, which turned into a second, less amused snort, which turned into a choked sob. And then, despite his efforts not to, he was crying, hard, in Hurley's arms.

The injuries he'd sustained almost made it uncomfortable to hold and support Ronnie's waist. Almost, but holding onto his son again was worth any amount of discomfort. Hurley sank carefully to the ground, pulling Ronnie with him, cuddling his son tightly. One hand stroked and caressed through Ronnie's hair and down his back.

Ronnie didn't know how long he cried for. It wasn't long; he was too used to pushing any emotion other than anger and fury down deep. When he stopped, he pulled back slightly and took a good look at Hurley. He drew in a shaky, horrified breath when he saw all the damage he had done to his old mentor (he didn't have the right to call him father, after everything he'd done). "You... you need to be taken care of..." He pulled out his phone and called for emergency medical assistance, then handed the phone to Hurley. "Call your people...They will want to contain that..." He glanced toward the crate. He hadn't pulled out of Hurley's arms yet. The older man was intent on keeping hold of him and not letting him escape. "I... I have to go. If I'm here when they get here..." He swallowed. By rights, he should let himself be captured. Tried. Punished. But he couldn't face that. Maybe he was a coward. Or maybe his instincts were pushing him to run; after all, someone had to have received those videos and if he was caught, he'd never find out who had left him to be tortured and rot. He needed to escape. He knew that was entirely in Stan's hands. If the older man refused to let go of him, then... then he'd let himself be captured. He owed Hurley that much.

"I'm not letting go of you, son." Hurley spoke quietly but intensely. "I'm going to take you home with me. Then I'll call it in. I've got a safe house no one else but me knows about." It was where he'd planned to take Ronnie when his son got back from the mission. Where he was going to retire with his son.

"You need a hospital..." Ronnie protested, guilt spearing through him that Stan was planning to protect him when all Ronnie had done was hurt him... hurt innocent people.

"I need my son," Hurley corrected. "I know I didn't get the chance to make it official, but that's what you are. My kid. And I'm taking you home.

Ronnie couldn't help but tear up again at the words. Even if he didn't deserve to call Hurley father, that's what the older man had decided he was. After everything, Stan still wanted him. Ronnie slumped as he realized he had two choices. Give in to what Hurley wanted, or fight. He took a long, hard look at what he'd done to his father and he knew he couldn't fight. "Yes, sir..." He finally gave in, his voice soft and resigned. "Will you get help once you've got me home?" he couldn't help but ask hopefully.

"I have contacts who won't ask any questions." Still holding tight to Ronnie, Hurley carefully stood. He took a quick stock of his own injuries and decided that, although the cuts were painful, they would hold until he reached home with his son if he bandaged them. He led his son over to the corner of the room and turned Ronnie to face it. "Stand here until I get you out."

Ronnie blinked at suddenly finding himself facing the corner. "...What the hell, Old Man? What are you doing? Those medics I called will be here soon. As will your people, I'm sure..." he added in uncertainly. Maybe Hurley wanted him to face the music for his actions. If he did, then... well, Ronnie wouldn't try and avoid it any longer. After what he'd done to his father, he'd go along with whatever the older man said he deserved. Still....

"I told you, son. I'm taking you home. But since I don't want to lose any more blood getting to the safe house, I need to make sure to bandage them well enough to hold until we get there." As he was speaking, Hurley was bandaging the bleeding wounds.

"I could bandage you..." Ronnie offered hesitantly. Why would Hurley put him in the corner when he could help? Unless the older man didn't trust him. Which... yeah. He deserved not to be trusted. Sighing in resignation, he faced the corner again.

"It's all right, son. I've done it." Hurley had seen the look on Ronnie's face when he'd taken in the injuries. Bandaging the wounds would make his son feel even worse. Tapping out a quick message to one of his other contacts, Hurley moved over to draw his son out of the corner once more.

Ronnie was subdued as Hurley drew him out of the corner. "What now, sir?" he asked softly. It was beginning to be difficult, obeying everything Hurley said; not because he was changing his mind. He wasn't. But because his nervousness at being caught by the company that had left him to rot was growing. And he knew Hurley would literally die to protect him now that he had him back and he didn't want his father dying for him.

"We go home." Hurley led Ronnie quickly out of the area, holding his son tightly, heading towards the helicopter hovering not far from the building. "As soon as we're in the air and a good distance from here, I'll call them in for the bomb."

"Yes, sir..." Ronnie answered dutifully, pressing close enough that Hurley could lean on him. When they reached the helicopter, he helped Hurley into the cab, then climbed up behind the older man, fastening Hurley's seatbelt before fastening his own. He ignored the pain in his hands, though he knew the knuckles were rapidly swelling and he'd probably not be able to move his fingers very well at all by the time they got to where they were going. He'd done it to himself. He deserved it.

As soon as the pilot had them in the air, Hurley turned his attention to his son and reached for Ronnie's hands, looking them over carefully. "I'll make sure you get treatment as well when we're safely at home, son."

"I know you will, sir..." He looked up into Hurley's face, a sad look on his own. "If I'd come to you immediately after escaping... talked to you... all this would have been avoided..." he admitted, in a shamed tone. "I'm sorry... I know it isn't enough. Will never be enough. But I am...."

"I know you are, son." Hurley squeezed around Ronnie's wrists, avoiding his hands, since they were in bad shape. "I love you. And I forgive you. And when both of us are up to it, we will deal with your guilt."

Ronnie knew what that meant. Nodding, he gave Hurley a sad smile. "Yes, sir... I need you to..." he said, before slumping in weariness. This was the first time since escaping he wasn't feeling anxious or driven. It was odd, being relaxed.

Hurley kept holding onto his son. Even when they were far enough away that he could safely call the bomb in, he kept his son's wrist in his hand, thumb stroking over the pulse and squeezing gently every so often.

Feeling the firm grip on his wrist made him feel controlled. It had been a long time since anyone had control over him. Still... it felt right and the rubbing over his pulse was very calming. He found himself beginning to get drowsy.

Finishing the call, Hurley began to stroke his fingers through Ronnie's hair, trying to encourage his son to sleep. "I've got you. I love you. You're safe," he whispered, stroking his son's hair and over the pulse in his wrist.

Ronnie gave Stan a crooked smile. "Yeah... you got me, Old Man... finally... " he whispered before falling asleep on Stan's shoulder.

Hurley just held onto Ronnie, needing to keep the contact with his son. He only stirred when the helicopter came in, to land at his safe house, stroking his son's cheek to wake him.

***

To say Ronnie waking was uneventful would be a lie. Falling asleep so restfully for the first time in years left him disoriented upon awaking. He woke fighting, terrified... luckily, it was the seatbelts he fought at first and not his father; the older man had time to move out of range before Ghost accidentally killed him before coming to his senses.

"You're safe, Ronnie. You're here. We're home." Hurley moved so that he wasn't in range of the younger man's fists or feet, speaking to his son in calm, soothing tones.

When Stan's voice finally broke through the terror, Ronnie froze, his face full of shame that he'd so obviously lost control and could have hurt his father, again. Swallowing hard, he apologized. "Sorry..." He began trying to undo the seatbelts, frustration mounting when he couldn’t bend his fingers.

"Let me, son." Stan began to carefully undo the seatbelts, speaking in a calm, quiet tone as he did so. "I reached out to a contact while you were out. She has medical training and won't ask any questions or give anything away. She'll meet us at the house."

Ronnie nodded and swallowed again. "Thank you, sir... I... I hope you have a room with no windows and locks on the outside. I suddenly find myself afraid I might kill you in your sleep and not even realize what I'm doing till it's too late...." His whisper was low, and pain filled. He might have wanted Stan dead before, but he knew the truth now and that was the last thing he wanted.

"We'll handle things however we need to, son." Hurley carefully helped Ronnie out of the helicopter, keeping a tight hold of his son.

"Yes, sir..." Ronnie didn't attempt to pull away. Other than his hands, he was in much better shape than his father and if the older man wanted to hold onto him tightly, he wouldn't complain. He owed the older man after his actions. There was an emotional chasm and numerous emotional wounds he needed to atone for. And even though he no longer blamed Hurley for what had happened to him, he knew his father blamed himself and carried wounds from not having known and done something to help. So, he didn't pull away; and, in fact, pressed closer. Even once they were in the house and the helicopter had taken off, Ronnie stayed close and in Hurley's hold. He did glance around to see if there were any other people in the house first, though; Hurley was expecting doctors of some sort. He wanted to be certain that's all that was there. It was hard to stop being paranoid after years of living in paranoia.

Hurley's phone chimed only a few minutes later and he checked the alert. "She's here." He didn't let go of his son, even as he headed to the door. Checking the camera just outside, he pulled open the door, revealing a woman dressed in casual clothes, carrying a medical bag.

She stepped into the hallway and addressed Hurley. "I'll examine you both wherever you feel most comfortable."

Ronnie did a quick glance over the woman. She seemed legit and since his father had called her, he obviously trusted her. He left it to his father to choose where they went, though.

"This way." Hurley headed through to the living room and only then actually let go of his son. At the doctor's gesture, he moved over to her and held still as she examined him.

"The cuts are mostly shallow, but there are a couple that will need stitches," she said, once she'd finished. She set her bag down and began taking out supplies. "You have two broken ribs, which I'll strap up. Multiple bruises. I'll apply ointment to those." She nodded to the couch. "Sit down."

Hurley sat and the doctor brought over the needles, thread and bandages, along with scissors to cut the fabric from the wounds and sterile water.

As Ronnie listened to the list of injuries his father had, knowing that he'd caused a good ninety-nine percent of them, he began to withdraw more and more, the guilt beginning to eat him up inside. How could he have let himself fall so low, believe the worst of his father to the point that he'd torture the other man so horribly? He didn't deserve for Hurley to want him back. He deserved to be thrown in a cell for the rest of his life. He'd deserve it if Hurley decided to beat him senseless. How could his father want him back when he had been so evil?

Hurley focused on Ronnie, holding himself still as the doctor began to carefully cut his shirt away from the wounds. "Come sit next to me, son." His voice was calm and soft, only hitching slightly as the fabric had to be pulled free.

Ronnie looked up at the request, his eyes catching Hurley's. The guilt he felt was as obvious as the fact he was feeling self-loathing and wanted to run. To hide. He hesitated, afraid that sitting next to his father would get in the doctor's way and she wouldn't be able to treat him effectively.

"Son, I won't be able to relax and let myself get treated if I don't have you within touching distance," Hurley said honestly. "I thought I'd lost you. So, you can either walk over here and sit down under your own steam, or I'll be coming over to get you."

Ronnie blinked at that, flushing slightly at the raised eyebrows and unimpressed look of the doctor. When she motioned toward his father, as if to encourage him to stop being an obstinate fool, he swallowed and moved to sit next to his father. You should take off anything that's going to block me treating you as well... he heard her mutter as she continued to stitch one of the nastier cuts he'd left on Stan.

"I only hurt my hands..." he muttered back, ignoring the fact he had been through several firefights, and various other activities that would have left bruises, at the least. His father was the priority and he didn't want to distract her from Hurley.

Hurley snorted softly at his son's comment. "I know you're bruised at the very least, son. I'm getting treated, so I expect you to accept treatment as well." He looked seriously at Ronnie. "Being obstinate about your health isn't okay, son. You know that." There was a heavy note of warning in his voice. In the past, he hadn't hesitated to swat his son, or even bend Ronnie over his knee for a full spanking, if his boy resisted getting treatment.

Ronnie hadn't forgotten how Hurley had handled obstinacy when it came to taking care of himself. But even with the hint of warning in Stan's tone, he didn't really believe his father would handle him that way now. They'd been apart too long and handling him that way was the same as saying he was Stan's son the same way he had been before. Even if Stan wanted him back in his life, surely, he didn't want him back the same exact way?  "I'll get my hands treated..." he said, to try and smooth over any arguments.

"And every other wound you have," Hurley said insistently. He reached out and squeezed Ronnie's knee gently. "If you fight me on this, son, I'll turn you over my knee."

Ronnie looked down at Hurley's hand on his knee and weighed his options. He had no doubt Hurley would do as he said. At the same time, he didn't want Hurley to see his body; not as badly scarred as he was. It would just upset the older man. But if he didn't cooperate, Hurley was liable to physically undress him, himself and that could put pressure on his wounds that he didn't need. Of course, it was also possible Hurley wouldn't force the issue, even if he did spank Ronnie for not complying. Which would be the best option all around... since Hurley wouldn't stress his own wounds, but also wouldn't see the scars Ronnie had. What were the odds that Hurley would just spank him for being obstinate but not risk hurting himself further to undress him? Ronnie swallowed hard. He could refuse and accept the spanking... and then after, if Hurley looked as if he was going to try and undress him, he'd give in and cooperate. Getting a spanking was worth taking the chance that Hurley wouldn't try and undress him and wouldn't see the scars. "I don't have any other wounds..." He shrugged slightly and held his hands out in front of him. "Just this..." He looked at his hands and realized, even if he had been willing to undress in front of Hurley, he might need the older man's help anyway. So hopefully, Hurley wouldn't insist, as Ronnie really didn't want him stressing his wounds in order to help him.

"I know that's not true," Hurley said seriously. "I know you have other injuries. Even if you don't have many fresh ones, you were hurt when you were captured. Seeing your team members' bodies told me that much." He shifted his hand to Ronnie's wrist, closing his fingers around it. "Excuse me a moment while I handle my son," he said to the doctor, before carefully pulling Ronnie across his lap.

Ronnie was too afraid of hurting his father to even attempt to struggle or fight the position, although it was a bit embarrassing that the doctor would be witness to his father handling him. Still. If spanking him let him get away with not taking off his clothes, he'd be happy.

Hurley tugged his son's pants and underwear down, letting his fingers rub over the bare skin of Ronnie's back. He didn't want to actively cause his son pain, but there was something almost comforting about the familiar position. He rubbed a bit longer and then moved his hand down to his son's bottom, delivering a stinging swat before pausing to rub the spot he'd just smacked.

Ronnie winced, but otherwise didn't fight or react to the swats. He closed his eyes as he realized, even just having his backside bared to his father would enable the older man to see enough scars that he would insist on Ronnie stripping completely so he could check the others. He hadn't thought about that as a possibility and now it was too late. Still... being over his father's lap, being smacked by the older man for obstinance? That was such a familiar occurrence that he couldn't be bothered by it. It was soothing... as embarrassing as it was and as much as it stung.

"I love you, Ronnie." Hurley's voice was low and very gentle as he continued the pattern: a stinging smack and then a rub. He continued in that vein down to his son's thighs and then paused to rub. "I need you to strip down so she can check you over, son. I can see how bad it is just from this position alone. I just want to keep you safe. I just want to take care of you."

Ronnie whined softly, but didn’t argue. "I... I'll need help, daddy..." he whispered, his emotions and the position sending him back into a frame of mind from before he and his father had been pulled apart.

"I'll help you, son. Always," Hurley promised, before helping his son to stand and then beginning to remove Ronnie's clothing. It hurt, seeing how much pain his son had gone through, and he gently squeezed Ronnie's shoulders once his boy was naked. "I love you so much," he murmured.

Ronnie was crying by the time he was fully undressed. "I love you too... and I'm so sorry..." he whispered brokenly. He held still while the doctor carefully began to examine him. She took her time, giving a thorough examination, ending with his hands. She'd brought a portable x-ray and was able to determine that he hadn’t broken bones, so she wrapped them tightly and then gave Hurley the instructions for caring for him until swelling went down.

Hurley only moved enough for the doctor to treat his son and then he was cuddling Ronnie tightly in his arms on his lap. He needed to hold onto his son. Needed to hold onto Ronnie. "I need you so much," he whispered into his boy's ear, stroking his hands down Ronnie's back.

"I wanna come home... can I come home, daddy?" Ronnie continued crying. He didn't notice the doctor leaving.

"I've brought you home." Hurley brushed a kiss over his son's head, hugging Ronnie tightly. "And I am never letting you leave me again," he whispered.

Ronnie pressed close, snuggling, secure in the knowledge that his long separation from his father was over. He continued to cry softly, but it sounded relieved.

Hurley stroked his hands down Ronnie's back and through his hair, every so often pressing a kiss to his son's head. He kept murmuring words of love and forgiveness to his boy.

"Wh... when you are feeling better, daddy... I... I need for things to be right between us. I should have never done what I did..." Ronnie said, in a small voice. "...No matter how much I was hurt, I shoulda never done any of what I did...."

"We'll handle it," Hurley promised, rocking Ronnie gently. "When we're both recovered, I'll turn you over my knee and I'll spank you. But I won't let go of you. I'm going to keep you forever. I love you so much, son." He kissed the side of Ronnie's head. "I so desperately wanted you home."

"Even at my angriest... all I really wanted was to be back home with you, daddy. It hurt so much when I thought you gave up on me... now I know you didn't know not to and... and now I'm just sad that I ever believed you didn't want me..." Ronnie slowly relaxed, slumping in his father's arms. The rocking was as soothing as being over Hurley's knee had been, the familiarity of it easing and healing emotional wounds.

"I've always wanted you, son," Hurley murmured, still gently rocking. Still stroking soothingly. "Ever since that first time you showed up at my training camp. I planned to retire before now. Planned to bring you home with me. I still have the paperwork," he admitted softly. "To make you mine officially. I couldn't bear to part with it."

At those words, Ronnie just slumped and began to sob. So much time had been lost to his anger. If he'd just come home immediately after escaping, none of this whole mess would have occurred. His father wouldn't be hurting so badly. He'd have been adopted and living with Hurley and they'd both be safe and secure, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself for what he'd done.  "I'm so sorry, daddy. I'm so sorry I hurt you...." The pain and regret was clear in his voice.

Hurley tightened his embrace. "I failed you," he whispered. "I let myself be convinced you were lost. Physical pain could never touch on the pain I felt when you were ripped from me. When I couldn't bring you home like I so desperately wanted. I'm not going to make that mistake again," he promised. "I'm not going to let you out of my sight. And I'm going to adopt you officially."

"You didn't fail me, daddy... you were lied to. You had no reason not to believe what you were told and shown. I failed both of us in believing the worst. I should have given you a chance to explain before I acted out my anger. I... I threw a huge tantrum, but was worse than any tantruming child could have been..." He swallowed hard. "I never want to leave your sight ever again. I want to be officially yours; will they let me? After everything I've done?"

Hurley stroked across Ronnie's lower back and let his fingers run through his son's hair. "I still have a lot of pull. I'll make use of my contacts to make sure you become officially mine. To make sure they can never take you from me."

"To make sure you're the only one who punishes me?" Ronnie asked, in a small voice. He sounded slightly afraid, but it was only because he was afraid they'd try and take him from his father again.

"Yes, son. Which will likely mean you'll need to stay on house arrest." Hurley couldn't bring himself to stop touching Ronnie. Stroking, caressing, hugging him. He'd missed Ronnie so much; had learned to live with that pain and now only realized it was there because the pain he'd learned to live with was ebbing away.

"As long as I'm with you, sir, I would willingly never leave this property..." Ronnie admitted. It wasn't like he hadn't spent several years in a small, dank cell when he was being held captive, after all. House arrest would be like living in a castle and if his father was with him, it wouldn't be a hardship at all.

"Like I said...I won't be letting you out of my sight. Probably ever," Hurley said honestly. "I have no plans to let go of you any time soon. And even if I'm not holding you, I'll make sure you're within my line of sight."

Ronnie couldn't help but smile at that. "I'll be just like a toddler... always being watched..." he said hoarsely. He sounded happy and relieved at the fact, not upset.

Hurley stroked the side of his face and kissed his forehead. "I worry that if I let go of you, it'll turn out having you home is a dream," he said honestly.

Ronnie shivered. "I know how you feel. I can't believe I'm not dreaming... if my hands weren't aching, letting me know that it isn't a dream... I'd be afraid to believe."

Hurley kissed his forehead again. "I don't know when the last time you ate something was, but I can't imagine it was recent. I want to feed us both and then I think we need to go down for a nap."

"I don't remember when I last ate a full meal..." Ronnie admitted. "Eating sounds really good, dad." He paused. "Do... do you have a room that you can lock me in? My nightmares... I... I don't want to wake up to find I've hurt you, or worse, in my sleep. I won't be able to rest unless I know I can't do anything to you...."

"I'm not going to put you in a separate room, son. I won't be able to sleep unless I can see you and touch you," Hurley said honestly. "What I can and will do is make use of restraints, so that you don't need to worry about waking up and reacting badly."

Ronnie snuggled close, thinking about that. "Okay, daddy... I... I want to stay with you too, so I think I'd rather be restrained and be with you...."

Hurley kissed his son's cheek. "I'll take you through to the kitchen. Get us both some food. And then I'll take you into the bedroom to sleep."

"Thank you, sir... for forgiving me so easily... giving me another chance..." Ronnie whispered.

"I missed you so much," Hurley murmured. "Losing you was unbearable. I can't do anything else other than forgive you and bring you home." He helped Ronnie to stand and then stood up himself, guiding his son through to the kitchen.

Ronnie felt very useless as he watched his father force himself to work through the pain and make them a meal. "I'll never forgive myself for hurting you like I did..." he whispered, after several moments of watching Hurley having to move more carefully and gingerly to avoid pulling stitches or putting pressure on his ribs.

"You'd been hurt far worse than you ever hurt me, son," Hurley said. "I saw the scars. I saw what they did to you. I told you to do what you had to do. Not only that, but I pushed all of your buttons. I knew exactly what to say to get you to release your rage." He reached out to stroke the side of his son's face. "It worked. You came back to me."

Ronnie quivered at realizing his father had known exactly what he was doing. "How... how did you know it would work?" he asked, in a small voice.

"Because I know you," Hurley answered. "Because I knew my boy was there, under the surface. Not even that far down. I had to bring you back to me."

"And you did... you brought me back.. and I'm never leaving ever agsin... " Ronnie promised.

"I wouldn't let you if you tried. You're mine." Hurley said the words simply, but there was an underlying note of possessiveness in his voice. He put the plates on the table and then sat down, settling Ronnie on his lap. He began to feed his son, since Ronnie's hands meant he wouldn't be able to do it himself.

Ronnie settled in place, eating what he was fed. It wasn’t until he was half-way through the plate that it dawned on him, though. If his hands were too swollen to feed himself, they'd be too swollen to do other more personal and intimate things. He flushed dark when he realized how much help he would need till the swelling went down and he could bend his fingers and grip again.

Hurley brushed a kiss against the side of his son's head. "You might need a bit more help than you're used to, but I'm your father," he murmured. "I'm going to do everything to help you."

"I know you will, daddy... just makes me feel like a child, needing that kind of help," Ronnie admitted softly. He didn't start arguing, though. He obediently kept eating what Stan fed him.

"I lost you for such a long time, son." Hurley kissed his cheek. "I want to take care of you. I'm going to look after you. You're home."

"I know you are, sir. Just wish you didn't have to help take care of the less... glamorous...  parts of me." Ronnie snorted faintly. "Especially after I've hurt you so much. I should be helping you...."

"You are helping me, son. By being home with me and letting me take care of you." Hurley kissed him again. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, dad..." Ronnie snuggled close. "I'm so thankful to finally be home with you where I belong... where I needed to be...."

"Where you always needed to be. Exactly where you belong." Hurley finished feeding them both and then helped Ronnie to stand so he could clean up.

Watching his father work through the pain of all the injuries he'd caused was difficult. "How did I ever fall so far that I thought what I was doing was acceptable?" he said sorrowfully.

"You were broken, son," Hurley said gently. "Thinking I'd lost you...that broke me. It was the worst pain I've ever felt. I'll willingly take the physical pain, because it brought you back to me."

"I hate what I became... what I did to you... to all the other innocent people. If I didn't know you'd be addressing my behavior..." He sighed softly. Despite his injuries, Hurley was cleaning quickly. Soon, they were ready to go to take their nap.

"I will be, son. As soon as we're both recovered." Wrapping his arm around Ronnie's shoulders, Hurley led his son to the bedroom, only letting go long enough to retrieve the restraints he'd mentioned.

Ronnie was still naked from his examination. He waited quietly for Hurley to retrieve the restraints, then asked hesitantly, "Am I sleeping like this?" He would if Hurley said to; it would likely make a lot of things easier for the older man if he stayed naked, as it made him more vulnerable. Still, it wasn't easy being vulnerable, even to his father.

"Yes, son," Hurley answered calmly. "You will sleep naked, in my arms. Where I can take care of you." He led Ronnie over to the bed and helped his son to lay down, proceeding to put the restraints on him.

Ronnie swallowed hard as his father restrained him. Even knowing he needed this, to protect his father and maybe even himself, and even knowing he'd requested it, it was difficult to lie still as his father took away his freedom of movement. It was scary, even though he knew he was safe, and Hurley would protect him. By the time the last restraint was attached and locked, tears were falling down his face and he was trembling with the effort not to beg Hurley to remove them again.

Hurley quickly got into bed next to his boy and wrapped his arms tightly around Ronnie, kissing his son's forehead and then his neck. "I've got you, son," he whispered. "You're safe. I love you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promised.

Ronnie quivered in his father's arms, closing his eyes tight and focusing on the words Hurley was speaking to him, focusing on his father's arms wrapped tight around him and the kisses. "I... I know, daddy..." he said, in a very small voice, his fear bleeding through despite his efforts to keep it under control. "I know you will protect me... just can't help being scared. Even if I don't have reason to be...too many... too many times I wasn't..." he admitted reluctantly, but knowing Hurley needed to know the truth. There would likely be many more times that his father would need to do things that were difficult for him, because it would keep both of them safe. Hiding it wouldn't do anyone any good.

Hurley stroked his hand down Ronnie's lower back, cupping the base of his son's spine. "I know. Words won't make you feel safe. You need to relearn those feelings of safety. And until you do, we'll deal with it. We'll handle it. We'll handle everything together." He gently grasped Ronnie's wrist, thumb stroking over the pulse point.

"Yessir..." Ronnie's voice was raspy, as he was obviously trying to tamp down the fear. His body was tense, but as Hurley stroked and squeezed him, holding him close, eventually, the tenseness drained from him and he was lying loose and pliant in his father's arms. His breathing evened out. He fell asleep.

Hurley didn't let go of his son, even as he slipped into sleep himself, one hand still resting on his son's lower back; his other hand still stroking his son's wrist, over his pulse point.

***

Ronnie didn't know if it was pure exhaustion, or if he somehow knew, even asleep, that he was safe, but he slept through the night without too much issue. He only woke up once, but the restraints held him in place, so he wasn't able to lash out immediately and he calmed quickly due to Hurley's calm handling of the situation. He'd fallen back asleep within fifteen minutes of it occurring and didn't wake up again the rest of the night. Now, he was awake and needed to go to the bathroom badly but was reluctant to wake his father. He lay there quietly, his head on Hurley's chest (somehow, his father had maneuvered him into his arms in such a way that he was snuggled on the other man, even if he was restrained) and listened to his father's heartbeat... listened to him breathe... and was never so thankful to have failed in a 'mission' before in his life. If he'd succeeded in his plans... he would have been lost forever. He knew that.

It didn't take long for the change in his son's breathing to register to Hurley and he stirred. He slid his hand down Ronnie's back, over his spine, giving firm squeezes. "I've got you, kiddo," he whispered. "I love you."

"Love you too, daddy..." Ronnie whispered, content to stay where he was until Hurley decided to get up. "Feels good..." he said quietly, in response to the squeezing.

"You feel so good in my arms, where I can hold onto you and keep you." Hurley squeezed a bit more firmly, thumb brushing just past the crest of his son's bottom. The hold was almost possessive; driven by the need to hold onto and keep his son.

Ronnie nuzzled against Hurley's chest, sighing softly at the possessiveness of the affection. "Wanna be kept forever..." he whispered. It didn't bother him that his father had all the control over him and his body; he was still restrained. He was just so relieved Hurley still wanted him and the possessiveness was proof of that.

Hurley brushed a kiss over Ronnie's hair. "Good, because I'm not going to let you go," he promised. "Now that I have you back, safe in my arms, you're not getting away." He stroked his fingers through his son's hair and kissed again, his other hand still squeezing and stroking possessively over Ronnie's back.

Ronnie relaxed and nuzzled and cuddled as much as he was allowed, while Hurley reaffirmed his position in his life through touch. Eventually, though, his body protested him not taking care of its needs, and he had to let his father know, "I need to go to the bathroom, sir...."

Hurley carefully undid the restraints and helped his son to stand off the bed. "Thank you for telling me. My good boy," he whispered. He wrapped his arm around Ronnie's waist and guided him through to the bathroom.

Ronnie blinked at the affirmation of something that he hadn't even really thought he had a choice of doing. If he hadn't told Hurley, then he'd be having embarrassing issues that neither of them wanted. Still... hearing the words 'good boy' made him feel warm inside and, to his surprise, he wanted to hear that again. Earn that affirmation again. Once in the bathroom, he did his best to ignore the fact that his father had to help him. He'd never take his hands for granted again, after this. It wasn't until he couldn't use them that he realized exactly how much he really used them for normal, everyday things. He couldn't help but blush dark red; the help was so personal.

Hurley led his son towards the toilet and raised the seat. He then carefully helped his son with using the toilet, repeating the words, "My good boy," every time Ronnie let Hurley help him.

Ronnie was bright red by the time he'd finished, both at the intimacy the help Hurley gave enforced and because of the praise Hurley was giving him for... for going to the bathroom. He hadn't thought he could feel any more childish than having his father help him go to the bathroom, but having his father praising him for it like he was a toddler being potty-trained? That had his emotions plummeting rapidly. He felt extremely young, vulnerable and helpless, reliant on his father, by the time he was through. "I... I'm finished..." he mumbled, biting his lip and finding it hard to look Hurley in the eye.

"Good boy. My good boy," Hurley repeated. He moved to the sink to wash his hands, then returned to cup Ronnie's cheek and wrap his arm around his son's waist, drawing Ronnie tight against him. "You told me what you needed to do, and you didn't fight me helping you. My very good boy," he reiterated.

Ronnie shivered, moving into Hurley's arms and letting his head fall to the older man's shoulder. "I.... Letting you help me was good?" he finally whispered, not entirely sure what to say in this situation. His original thought that a quick 'thank you' to cover the fact Hurley had just cleaned him up didn't quite work when Hurley seemed so happy about the fact, he'd let the older man clean him up.  "...Made me feel like a little boy..." he admitted hesitantly. If letting Hurley do that for him made his father happy, he had to think being honest about his feelings would make him happier still. He wanted to make his father happy. After all the pain and anguish he'd brought to him, making him happy was the priority.

"You're safe to be a little boy here," Hurley murmured. "To be my little boy." One hand stroked the back of Ronnie's head, while his other hand rubbed low down Ronnie's back, squeezing. "Letting me help you was very good."

Ronnie sniffled softly, pressing as close as he was able and focusing on Hurley's hands. "...Wanna be good..." he said softly. "...Wanna be your little boy..." he admitted, a little more hesitantly. Even if Hurley didn't seem to mind, it felt odd admitting such a thing. He didn't say anything else. He didn't try and pull away. It was up to Hurley what they did next; be it bathing, or eating, or sitting together and watching TV. He didn't care, as long as he was with his father and could behave in a way that would have Hurley calling him 'his good boy'.

"I love you so much." Hurley kissed his son's cheek and then his neck. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be my little boy, son. I know you haven't had anyone to take care of you in that way for a long time." He squeezed around Ronnie's waist.

"Even though I'm grown?" Ronnie asked curiously. "It doesn't bother you?" He sighed happily at the kisses and feeling his waist squeezed.

Hurley led his son through to the living room and settled them both on the couch, cuddling Ronnie on his lap, clasping his son's waist. "It doesn't bother me at all. I need you, son. I need to take care of you," he said honestly.

Ronnie smiled at that, leaning against Hurley, careful not to press against his wounds too much and careful of his broken ribs. "...As much as I need to be taken care of, I guess... didn't even know I needed that before and now..." He blushed. "...Now I wanna be your little boy and let you take care of and control me, so I never ever do bad things like I did, ever again...." he whispered.

"You're going to be my little boy," Hurley promised, hugging Ronnie tighter to himself. "I know what happened broke you. We'll take all the time we need to put you back together again. I'm retiring from the CIA. I planned to already, before your final mission. Now that I have you home, my retirement's official."

"Thank you, daddy... I'm glad you're getting out. I don't trust them anymore and I...  I can’t lose you...." Ronnie said, before nuzzling against his father's neck. He'd started crying again, which he didn't understand, but he was broken. Like his father said. So, it made sense.

"I can't lose you either, son," Hurley whispered, kissing Ronnie's hair. "You're my world. I wasn't whole without you." He squeezed his son's waist a bit more firmly.

Ronnie sighed softly at the squeezing. "What will we do, daddy?" he asked. He meant overall, although he also meant right that minute.

"Right now? When we're not eating or sleeping, I'm going to spend the day with you like this," Hurley stated simply. "Cuddled on my lap, where I can hold onto you. Touch you. Feel you in my arms and know that I have my son home. Overall, I'll still be spending a lot of time being affectionate with you. When we're both recovered, I'll make arrangements for someone else to take over training the recruits. I've got a lot of contacts and dirt on the CIA I can make use of if I need to." He frowned. "There's really only one live-wire who concerns me. If he can't be reined in, he'll get himself killed."

"The one that's been after me..." Ronnie acknowledged. "I... I almost killed him. You would have been upset if I had..." he said softly, realizing that he'd probably killed a lot of people his father was upset about. "How will I ever make up for all the wrong I did?" he asked hopelessly.

"Not so sure he wasn't trying to get himself killed," Hurley said softly, before hugging Ronnie a bit tighter. He let his thumb stroke over the pulse in his son's wrist. "It's going to take time for you to feel better about yourself, son. But you were broken. Put through physical and emotional torment. You've come back and now, we can move forward. Heal. Together."

Ronnie nodded. "Being broken doesn't excuse me, though..." he said softly. "Need to be punished for what I did... not get away with it, even if there were reasons for it...."

"And I'm going to punish you, son," Hurley answered. "The way I've punished you in the past. Over my knee, bare, and my hand on your bare butt." He pressed a kiss to Ronnie's cheek. "You won't get away with anything, son," he promised.

"Okay, daddy..." Ronnie cuddled close, not questioning his father or his planned method of dealing with him. Past experience told him that it wouldn't be an easy punishment, even if some people thought it would be. There was nothing more humbling than to be over his father's knee having his bare butt smacked repeatedly until all he could do was lie limp and accept it while bawling his eyes out. Nothing that more quickly put him into his place and reminded him who he was meant to obey either.

"I love you so much." Hurley stroked his fingers over Ronnie's wrist. "I needed you back in my life so much, son. I was lost without you."

"I think it's obvious how much I needed you, daddy. If you'd had hold of me even a little, I wouldn't have done all that I did..." He smiled faintly, nuzzling some more.

Hurley gently squeezed low down on Ronnie's back, around his waist. "You're home now. Where you belong. Who you belong with and to."

"Always belonged with you, daddy... belonged to you... wish I hadn't forgotten..." Ronnie sniffled. It was hard not to regret lost time as much as it was hard not to regret the actions he'd taken.

"You remember now." Hurley pulled Ronnie closer and tighter, rubbing down his back and over his bottom. "And I'll make sure you never forget."

Ronnie hid his face against Hurley's shoulder, relaxing and just accepting his father petting him. "I'm counting on that, sir..." he whispered.

The petting was gentle and affectionate, almost like Hurley was touching and reclaiming every inch of his boy. Every so often, he would squeeze possessively. "One more thing we'll do today and that will be to take care of that paperwork. Making you officially mine."

Ronnie looked up at that, giving his father a big smile. "And then they can't take me away from you?"

"I wouldn't let them anyway," Hurley promised. "But it's about time the paperwork was completed officially."

"And then I'll be legally yours... you can officially take charge of me and tell me what to do..." Ronnie teased, feeling more secure knowing that Hurley planned to follow through on his plans and make him his son.

"I've been doing that since you joined my recruits." Hurley smiled at his son's teasing. "Of course, I knew immediately that you were mine. Tried not to let anyone outside of the two of us know. I didn't want anyone to accuse me of playing favourites."

Ronnie snorted at that. "If they knew being your favorite meant going over your knee when they were disobedient, they'd prolly not say anything. I... even though I know it means you love me and I'm yours and you're taking care of me and helping me be better... I wouldn't actively seek out spankings... well, I wouldn't have in the past, anyway..." He said the last hesitantly, as he realized that now, he probably would be seeking spankings; at least until the guilt of his actions eased up enough, he didn't feel he needed them.

"That's what makes them effective." Hurley stroked his cheek. "You don't like being spanked, so you try to avoid it. But as for needing to be spanked now...it's not only about being punished, son. It's also about drawing you back under my control. Placing you right where you belong."

"Putting me where I listen to you and let you take care of me and help me make good decisions..." Ronnie whispered. "I love you, daddy...."

"I love you." Hurley brushed a kiss over his forehead. "I'm going to make sure nothing separates us ever again," he promised.

Ronnie pressed into the kiss, turning enough that he could kiss Hurley on the cheek. He didn't have any more questions for the moment and didn't have anything to say about Hurley's promise they'd never separate. So, he just sat on his father's lap and cuddled, moving however he needed to so that Hurley could touch, stroke and squeeze his body wherever he wanted.

***

It took a while, but finally, both Hurley and Ronnie were healed up enough that they could begin doing things for themselves. Hurley still fed his son, though, with Ronnie sitting on his lap. That morning, he was doing the same thing, arm wrapped around his boy's waist as he fed both himself and Ronnie.

Ronnie had begun helping his father as much as possible when his hands had healed sufficiently to be able to bend his fingers, watching carefully to make certain the older man was healing well and not having any issues due to the wounds Ronnie had caused. He didn't attempt to take over any part of taking care of himself that Hurley continued to want to control and do, even if it did make him feel like a child. He continued to feel like he owed his father that much, after everything he did. Seeing the wounds heal didn't diminish the guilt he felt about causing the wounds, at all. He wasn't certain what caused everything to come to a head this morning; he'd sat on Hurley's lap for every meal since being brought home and not said a word. But this morning, it suddenly felt like too much. He didn't deserve to be cared for and loved so much after what he'd done. He deserved to hurt for what he'd done. Swallowing the last spoonful of oatmeal that Hurley had put into his mouth, he suddenly tried to stand. "You need to be able to eat too..." he said, by way of excuse for his sudden movement.

"I've been eating just fine with you sitting on my lap." Hurley reached out and gently pulled his son back onto his lap. "And once we've finished eating and cleaning up, then I'll take you over my knee. I'll spank your bare butt. And then we'll cuddle."

Ronnie balked at finding himself right back on his father's lap, but when he heard what his father said, he felt the fight drain out of him. "...One spanking isn't going to wipe out my guilt, daddy..." he whispered sadly. "...But thank you for trying to help me anyway." He slumped, preparing himself to finish eating whatever Hurley put into his mouth.

"I know, son." Hurley kissed the side of Ronnie's neck and continued feeding him. "It's not going to be just one spanking. We'll do it as many times as necessary. As many times as it takes for you to reach the point you need."

Ronnie looked up at that, looking into his father's eyes before nodding solemnly. "Okay, sir... I know you'll take care of me..." He smiled crookedly.

"Always." Hurley kissed the side of his son's neck and then finished feeding them both. Helping Ronnie to stand, he cleaned up quickly and then guided his boy through to the living room.

Ronnie followed meekly, letting Hurley lead them where they needed to go. He was slightly nervous. This would be the first true spanking he'd had since before he'd got captured and taken from his father; the one he'd got when arguing about being checked out hadn't really been hard enough to count as it was mostly to get his attention and cooperation. He stopped next to his father when they reached the couch, waiting for instructions.

Hurley had left Ronnie naked for most of the time he and his son had been at home together and now was no exception. He sat down on the couch and reached out, carefully drawing Ronnie down across his lap and securing him with an arm wrapped around his waist. He rubbed low down on his son's back and then lifted his hand, bringing it down in a firm smack that he then repeated.

Ronnie whimpered as the spanking began immediately, no talking or asking questions or even warning. Which was good and right. He knew why he was in this position. All the reasons for it and what he had done wrong. He was glad Hurley wasn't prolonging it just to repeat what they both already knew. Still, it had caught him by surprise, so there had been no tensing up in preparation. The first smack hurt. So did the second. His father wasn't holding back or playing around; he was making sure Ronnie was well and truly punished. Somehow, that helped him relax.

Hurley didn't need to hold so tightly onto his son. Didn't need to stop Ronnie from squirming off his lap, because he knew his boy would only do that because his body was reacting. But there was a comfort in wrapping his arm around Ronnie's waist, in holding his son so close and tight, as he continued with the swats down to Ronnie's thighs and then began again from the top.

Ronnie felt his father's tight grip and knew that the older man would protect him from falling. It gave him the freedom to let himself react; to let his father know that the punishment was felt and was making an impact. When Hurley began the second circuit was when the wiggling began. Not violent wriggles, but ones that indicated that Ronnie's bottom hurt. He hadn't started crying vocally yet, but his breathing was choppy sounding, indicating that tears were falling.

Partway through the second circuit, Hurley began to speak. "I love you so much, son. You've been my world from day one. I'm sorry, more sorry than I can ever say, that I failed you so badly. That you were left alone and hurting and believed I'd abandoned you. That I'd given up on you. But I never will, Ronnie. I will never give up on you. And from now on, I'll keep you close to home. Not as punishment. Not because you're a monster. But because I need you. So much."

"I'm sorry, daddy..." Ronnie choked out, before the tears finally escaped and he was crying vocally. "...Shoulda trusted in you... knew you loved me... know you love me... let all the bad fester and... and went bad... was so bad... and I'm sorry!" He began to sob. Hurley blamed himself for what Ronnie had done, he knew; but Ronnie knew he hadn't needed to go the way he had. Even though he'd felt abandoned and betrayed, after escaping, he could have just disappeared, not sought vengeance. Or... he could have just sought vengeance on those he thought had betrayed him. Instead of his plot to destroy numerous innocents. He could have handled his anger so much better. He was just so thankful Hurley had got to him; got through to him- in time.

"No, son, you weren't bad." Hurley completed the second circuit and began a third, swatting a bit harder and faster. "You were deeply hurt. You were tortured. They broke you down. But you didn't stay lost. You came back to me. You weren't so far gone that I couldn't reach you. You weren't beyond hope. You were never beyond hope. And now? Now, I get to keep you. Now, I can bring my son home. To the home I planned for us to live together in."

"Can... can be with you cuz you forgave me... even though was terrible naughty and did horrible things, you brought me home and forgave me... never wanna do those things ever again... help me be good, daddy? Will stay with you forever and ever and if I'm being naughty, you'll stop me and I'll be good for you... wanna be good for you..." Ronnie had no idea if he was making sense or not. But the idea of having to try and live life without his father wasn't appealing in the least and he knew Hurley could control him; keep him on the straight and narrow if he fell into that dark spot in his mind again; the broken part of him that let the dark seep in. He knew it would probably always be a part of him now, but it didn't control him anymore and with his father's help, it never would again.

"I know you'll be good for me, son," Hurley soothed, moving his hand a bit lower and beginning to focus more swats to his son's sit spots and thighs. "I'll be right here to help you, kid. For always. And if you're naughty, I'll step in and I'll pull you back to me. I won't ever let you go again."

"You'll keep me close and tight?" Ronnie sobbed out. "...Need to be close and tight, daddy...."

"I can't let you go again, Ronnie," Hurley said. "Believing you dead tore my heart out. I can't truly live without you, son. You're my world."

"I can't live without you either, daddy... you're holding me together..." Ronnie choked out, in a tiny voice, still crying. His bottom was so sore, but he needed it to be sore; needed to feel he was paying at least a little for his actions. He was squirming out of control by this point, though. Even though he wanted and needed to be punished harshly, his body was disagreeing with his mind.

"I always will," Hurley promised. "I'll always hold you together, kid. I won't fail you again." He pulled Ronnie closer and tighter against his stomach; though now, he paused to gently rub after every smack. His son had been hurt. Had been tortured. He wanted to make sure his boy experienced affection along with punishment now.

Ronnie found himself relaxing at the promise, not quite limp over his father's knee, but not stiff or fighting any longer either. It was as if his body had realized that it was receiving affection along with the punishment and decided it didn't need to fight anymore. He continued to cry, but it ebbed from sobbing into more gentle crying that would enable him to talk if Hurley asked him questions.

Hurley had slowed the swats to firm pats by this point, rubbing after every swat he delivered. "I'm going to hold you accountable, son. Going to help you each and every time that guilt gets too much. I realised you were my kid the first moment you came to me. The first time you opened your mouth just cemented that. I knew you were mine from the very first. And you're still mine now."

Ronnie shivered, slumping completely over Hurley's lap and not even tensing up a little. He submitted completely. "Was mouthy when you first saw me... you knew I'd be a handful even then..." he accused, with a hint of humor through his tears. "I'm your kid, daddy.... I'm yours forever. Need you so much...."

"My handful," Hurley said possessively. "My kid. Then and now. And all that time in between. I need you just as much, son."

Ronnie let out a shivering sigh, still crying, still completely limp over his father's lap while Hurley alternated between gently rubbing and patting his bottom to keep the sting active. "...Your little boy..." he whispered. "...Love you, daddy... thank you for taking care of me...."

"My little boy," Hurley agreed. "I'll always take care of you. And now, I can devote all my time to you. I don't need to worry about anyone seeing me hugging or cuddling you and using that against one of us. And you're officially mine. Ronnie Hurley."

Ronnie smiled at that, even though he was still facing the ground and Hurley couldn't see. His crying had eased by that point; the pats might be keeping the sting active, but they didn't truly hurt and the rubbing was easing the ache bit by bit. He still stayed limp over his father's knee, needing Hurley to be completely in charge. "I can devote my time to you too, daddy..." he agreed softly, his voice raspy from the sobbing he'd done, but sounding happy. "You can do whatever you want now and no one can hurt us because of it. No one can use me against you or you against me..." And those words sounded relieved. He paused. "...What next, daddy?" he asked hesitantly. While he knew this wasn't the only spanking he had coming to him for his actions, he also knew Hurley would give him time to heal before giving him any more. "...Am I grounded?" he asked curiously, almost hopefully. That was something else Hurley had done in the past, before the 'bad time', as he'd begun to think of his capture and subsequent breakdown. Given they weren't leaving the grounds of the house for any reason, the only way a grounding would work was if he had to ask permission for every single thing he did. But... it was another step towards normalcy and what they'd had before he'd been ripped from his father's life and he needed that. He suspected Hurley did too.

"Yeah, kid," Hurley answered honestly. "No doing anything without my permission or say-so. You'll be staying by my side every moment. Of course, that's not too different from what you've been doing since I brought you home."

"Yes, sir... Not much different. Just giving you a little more control..." Ronnie said softly, sounding content. He thought he probably should ask to get up so that Hurley's legs didn't fall asleep, but he was comfortable over his father's knees and if Hurley wanted to keep him there, rubbing and patting his backside; well, he wanted whatever made his father happy. All he wanted was for his father to be happy again. After what he'd done, he needed his father to be happy again.

"Exactly right, son." Hurley continued the pats and the rubbing. "You're giving control to me, son. Being my good boy."

"Wanna be your good boy..." Ronnie's voice took on a softer tone, younger sounding, as he mentally accepted that his entire being was in Hurley's hands. He had to rely on his father completely until his grounding was over, because he had to ask for whatever he did, no matter what it was. "...Be your good little boy..." he said, in a happy tone.

"Be my good little boy," Hurley murmured. "And I fully believe you will. That you'll be my good little boy and that you'll stay my good little boy."

"Can I get up, daddy?" Ronnie asked quietly. "Can I sit on your lap?"

"Yes, son. And I'll cuddle you for the rest of the day," Hurley promised, before admitting, "And for the rest of the time, too." He helped his son to stand, so that Ronnie could sit on his lap and they could cuddle.

Ronnie settled in place, his warmed backside and his father's arms being so tight around him, allowing him to feel safe and settled for the first time since they'd been parted. He was home.

The End