Next of Kin

Author: LAAdolf

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: verse: Hopi Prayer used without
permission, just like The Guardian characters.
"This Bird..." slightly reworked from Mark Van
Doren's "End" also without permission. Shame on me.

Summary: In the aftermath of Lesley Walker's
death, Nicholas Fallin fulfills his obligations
to his foster daughter.

Author's Notes: This is a follow up to
The Guardian episode: "Heart". For Janet,
who inspired it, for Pallas who made many
wonderful suggestions and edited it.
You should have a co-writing credit my friend!



NEXT OF KIN
LAAdolf


Laurie Solt picked her way carefully through the rows
upon rows of headstones. Her gaze was fixed-- as much
as it could be as her feet sought sure purchcase on the uneven
ground of the cemetery--on the lone figure who stood next to an
open grave.

It was a glorious late fall day, the unexpectedly warm sun
casting strong shadows. This day that twelve year old Lesley
Walker was laid to her final rest.

Laurie had not seen much of Nick in the few short days
since Lesley had died, but she had been aware of the actions
he had undertaken almost as he seized his forgotten briefcase
and strode down the hall like a man with someone awaiting him,
home.

He had gone almost immediately to the
hospital morgue to claim young Lesley's body. Had
arranged for the funeral home to collect her and provide
the respectful attentions that his mother surely had received,
and his father could expect.

He had secured for her only the very best. Starting with
her clothes, which must have cost more than all the
wardrobe she'd ever worn in her short life.And when all
the physical details had been tended to, he had called Laurie,
requesting that she help him arrange a funeral service for Lesley.

The man she met over a table in the business office of the
funeral home was, to all intents and purposes, the Nicholas
Fallin she had known these past months. But something
fundamental had changed. The handsome face still sported
the demeanor of someone sure of himself and single-minded
in his ambitions, but the eyes....the eyes were different now.

The steady blue gaze held a haunted quality that Laurie could never
have wished on him when she had introduced cocksure Nick
Fallin to beguiling Lesley Walker. But when she had reached
out an instinctive hand of comfort, he had withdrawn physically,
moving to pick up a brochure, fumble with a pen. The voice that
queried Laurie about the kind of service she thought Lesley
might have wanted seemed the same. Only her discerning ear,
sharpened by her own very real grief for this exceptional girl
picked up the slightest waver when he referred to Lesley directly.

The memorial service that had emerged from their meeting
had been simple, but elegant. Brought to fruition in the
chapel of the funeral home, the funeral had been a
celebration of Lesley's short life, incorporating her
favorite music pieces, poetry that she had loved, details
fleshed out by her former foster parents, whom Nick
had sought out once again, before ever meeting with
Laurie. Other than Nick, and Laurie and the Carlsons,
most of the attendees had been medical personnel--
testimony to a life spent more often in hospitals than out.

But there had been flowers. So many that Laurie had wondered
if there were a bloom left in any hothouse withinin the city limits.
Only a few had cards including Laurie's own colorful
arrangement among them. The rest, had simply arrived
in waves, as Laurie found out from the very solicitous funeral
director. From Nick.

He had promised he would not fail Lesley, and
he had, in the only way now left to him, kept
his promise.

Laurie paused some twenty feet short of reaching
Nick's side, studying him intently.

There had been some last minute paperwork to
attend to, a signature required. Earlier she and
Nick had arranged to meet back at the funeral
home after the graveside service concluded.
Nick had never arrived, and Laurie, concerned,
had decided to retrace her steps to the last place
she had seen him.

Had he been here, all this time?

Laurie stirred herself from her reverie, intent
on moving forward, when a hand touched
her shoulder.

"Miss, -- ah Solt?"

Laurie turned and found herself meeting
the gaze of Burton Fallin.



Nick closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of the
casket laying at the bottom of the dark earthy chasm.
It was all so fresh, so vivid, it could not be nearly
twenty years later.

No, he was twelve again, watching in grief-numbed
disbelief as his mother was lowered into the earth,
the rose he'd placed on the lid of her casket transformed
into a red gash against somber brown by the tears that
had welled in his eyes.The ground was so cold.
His mother had been so warm, so alive. It wasn't
right. It couldn't be happening....

And now it had happened again.

Lesley was, as she had said she would be, free.
And he, once again, was trapped, snared in the pain
he'd tried so hard to run from for the past twenty years.



Burton Fallin met Laurie Solt's surprised gaze with
a smile that he hoped was friendly and reassuring.

Burton's only contact with Lesley Walker had been
at the custody hearing where Nick had been granted
guardianship, a brief meeting before she was hustled
back to the hospital. He had watched Nick interact
with the frail child for those few minutes, been struck
with the openness and affection that his son exhibited
toward his ward. Looking at Lesley, Nick's normally
closed expression opened up, his smile--seldom seen--
was quick, heartwarming and genuine.

Watching them together, the doubts and worries that
Burton had harbored about his son's decision to foster
the girl had vanished. In their place a sense of hope had
been born. Perhaps in caring for Lesley, Nick would
learn to care for himself. Instead of the responsibility
being overwhelming, Burton had only hoped that it
might instead be redemptive.

The elder Fallin had been among the mourners at
Lesley Walker's funeral. As slightly as he'd known
Lesley, as Nick's charge, she had been, by extension,
his own--as such he could do no less for her. For all
that Nick did not ask for his help and might have
discredited his sympathy, Burton loved his son
enough to understand the blow that the child's death
had been.

"He's been uh, standing there like that for the
last hour," Burton said his gaze shifting from
study of Laurie Solt's face to the figure of his son.

Burton had been impressed by her strength,
forthrightness, candor--calling Nick a son-of-a-bitch
in court. She was a part of his son's life that was
completely foreign to him, he did not truly know
if she was friend or foe. Seeing her here,now,
he wanted to know.

"Burton Fallin, Miss Solt. I'm Nicholas'---"
Burton began.

"--father. Yes, I know." Laurie Solt finished,
"Nick was supposed to meet me back at the
funeral home.When he didn't come...."

Burton nodded, "You became concerned."

Laurie nodded, a tad sheepishly it appeared.

"When he was ah, twelve...after his mother's funeral,
he went missing for several hours. Nobody thought to
check the cemetery, we'd scoured all of Allegheny
County before we got a call from the caretaker saying
he was here. Standing over her grave. Just standing
there." Burton offered, somewhat distractedly,
lost for a moment in his own memories of that
day so long ago.

"Nick's mother died when he was twelve?"
Laurie repeated, drawing Burton's attention
back to the here and now.

"Yeah. Cancer. He was with her, alone
that last morning." Burton explained.

Laurie gave Burton a sharp look, then a
dawning realization passed over her features,
followed by a glance of understanding in Nick's
direction. "No wonder," she murmured.

"He never told you." Burton stated the words,
not a question, merely a reportage of facts.

"No," Laurie allowed,"Nick has never mentioned
it. Hasn't told me anything of a personal nature for
that matter. Your son isn't an easy man to know."

Burton chuckled ruefully, "You're not , uh...telling
me anything *I* don't already know."

Laurie's eyes met Burton's again, her gaze intent,
curious, honest and forthright.

Burton glanced away momentarily, eyes
flickering toward his son again.

"He was good with the girl." Burton framed
the words as a statement, but there was a hint
of a question in them as well.

Laurie smiled, nodding. "He was. Lesley
had that gift, of reaching people, seeing right to
their core. You couldn't pity her. For all her
problems she had an incredible strength, and a
deep understanding of people. She knew that
none of us were perfect, understood the realities
of her situation and didn't judge people when they
couldn't face them. A remarkable child. She was
genuinely fond of Nick."

"He seemed to be fond of her too," Burton stated,
dropping the cigarette he'd been smoking onto the
ground, grinding the ember out.

"Seemed?" Laurie challenged, that intensity back
in her gaze again, "Surely you know Nick better
than anyone; you don't *know*?"

Burton gave the cigarette butt another grind
with his heel. He shook his head, "No. No, I don't.
Don't know Nick at all. Or what he feels. No, I don't."

Laurie Solt looked at Burton Fallin with penetrating
honesty, then nodded her head. Burton could not be
sure if the nod connoted understanding or disbelief.

Burton laughed, "Right. Yeah...right."

"If you say so, Mr. Fallin," Laurie allowed.

Burton gave her a look, questioning, as though
to say 'excuse me?' but without speaking the words.

"Yet here you are," was Laurie's only elaboration.

"Yeah. Here I am," Burton stated.

Both their gazes swiveled back to Nick,
who still stood that impenetrable distance away
from them.

They stood in silence for a while, until the sound of
voices reached them. They eavesdropped,
because the voices, while not loud, were not hushed,
the speakers not seeming to care if they were overheard.

"What a pain in the ass! Goddamn rush job for a stone
for a stiff. Can you figure it? Dead ain't goin' anywhere,
they don't care. Can't see what the rush is." The first voice
opined.

"What are you bitchin' about? Big bonus for doing this today!"
the second voice scolded mildly.

"Yeah, well, we're gonna have to wait for the guys to
fill the plot in. Another hour at least. Can't even start
until the friggin' family leaves."

Burton and Laurie half turned to look at the two men who
were maneuvering a cart laden with a headstone between
them, half intrigued, half irritated by the tone the
conversation was taking.

"Yeah. But look at it. Kinda explains the whole deal
don't it? You can be dead but your money still talks."
the second voice chimed in, the worker waving a meaty
arm in the direction of the stone.

Lesley's grave was, of course, the only open one in
the section, her funeral the only one that morning.

Laurie spared a quick glance at Nick, wondering
suddenly, if he, like they, had overheard. She
skewered Burton with a look, then began to close
the distance between herself and the younger
Fallin. She could hear Burton utter a mild oath,
and follow.

Nicholas Fallin still stood, unmoving, his
head bowed.

Laurie reached out a hand as she came to stand
next to Nick, an arm's distance away. She
caught herself, remembering his withdrawal from
a similar overture three days ago. She cast a glance
at Burton.

The elder Fallin, for all that he claimed he did not
know his son, moved to stand on Nick's other side.

"Time to go, son," he said quietly. Laurie wondered
if that is what he had said, all those years ago, coming
to find the twelve year old Nick standing over his
mother's grave.

At first, Nick didn't respond, the steady, unrevealing
blue gaze lost in the depths of the gash in the earth before
them. Then he lifted his head up, seemed to sense Laurie
and looked at her briefly, before turning an almost
bewildered gaze to his father. The pain that Laurie saw
in that tiny moment of eye to eye contact, caused her
breath to catch in her throat.

"Not yet," Nick said simply, quietly, and his blond
head turned in the direction that the cemetery workers
were coming from. He'd heard them approach all right,
heard every word they had said.

Damn.

Burton was giving his son a quizzical glance, as
though pondering for a moment whether or not to
force the issue. Laurie shot him a look while Nick's
gaze was seemingly locked on the approaching workers.
Burton gave her a small nod, then cleared his throat,
a small harrumph.

They stood, actors waiting for a cue, until the cart
stopped even with Lesley's grave.

Oblivious to their eavesdropped conversation,
unconcerned with the presence of mourners yet lingering,
the workers, chosen for their obvious size and strength,
not for their sensitivity, wrestled the headstone down
onto the ground. They then retreated a few yards, pulled
out cigarettes and lit up. Waiting, one had muttered as
they walked away, for the crew to close the grave.

Nick moved forward, edging around the grave as
though to inspect the headstone. Burton looked over
to Laurie, then followed his son. Fascinated,
Laurie did the same.

It was a beautiful marker-- a pale rose marble intricately
carved with flowers and tiny birds. And the inscription
made Laurie's breath catch once again.



"This bird died flying
And fell in flowers.
Oh, what a world
Went with her. Ours.

"Lesley Walker Fallin
1989-2001"

Nick gazed at the headstone for what seemed
an eternity, then the blond head raised. As Laurie
watched, Nicholas Fallin looked his father in the eye.

His expression, in so far as it gave anything
away, betrayed only a hint of a challenge, as though
he dared his father to say something about giving his
foster daughter their name.

Burton, to Laurie's great relief, did not rise to the bait.

"That's fine, son. Just fine," the elder Fallin responded
to the unspoken question. It seemed a sincere reassurance.

If Nick was relieved or disappointed, there was no
sign. Instead the enigmatic young man ducked his
head once more in the direction of the grave, then
turned and walked away.

Burton Fallin stood a moment longer, looking down
at the headstone briefly.

"Fine," he repeated, almost in benediction.Then
with a polite incline of the head in Laurie's direction,
he was gone.

Laurie watched as Nick was shadowed by the father
who claimed not to know him, accompanying a son who
seemed not to know he was there, still close at hand. If
Nick had paused a moment, Burton could not have
avoided touching him. Nick did not pause a moment..

Laurie Solt stood for a minute, closed her eyes,
casting a small prayer heavenward. Not for the first
time, she doubted her part in bringing Nicholas Fallin
and Lesley Walker together. All she had wanted to do
was raise that brash and arrogant young man's
consciousness of the realties of the world that she
had chosen and to which he had been sentenced.
Later, the benefits to Lesley had seemed worth the manipulation.

Laurie opened her eyes, brimming now with tears of her own.



Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.


End Next of Kin