"Jack." He shook him hard enough to wake the dead, and with a groan, Jack's eyelids fluttered. "Come on, Jack, wake up." Shocked blue eyes looked up at him.

"Wha' happened?"

"Elliot happened."

"Hayley."

"She's fine. Stay here. I'll be back." Scrambling to stand, he retraced his steps to the car and opened the door, holding out a hand and pulling Hayley into a tight hug. She buried her face in his neck, and with no further thought, he began stalking his way back to Jack, the cold of the snow suddenly very obvious. He shivered, but he was sure it was half cold and half adrenaline overload. Back with Jack, he slumped down with a stall wall at his rear and slid until Jack's head was in his lap and Hayley was gripping his arm to one side. He took his cell from Hayley's hand.

"Is Pappa going to be okay?"

"I'm fine, Hayley." Jack's voice was more growl than substance, but at least he was conscious.

Riley thumbed through his recent calls, found the one he wanted, and it connected almost immediately.

"Jones," the voice said.

"My daughter's uncle threatened us with a gun, hit my husband across the head, threatened my daughter, and stole over three million dollars to an offshore account. Cops are on their way. Thing is, Agent Jones, I don't know how your alien tech works, but he took the watch."

Call finished, Riley pulled at blankets until Hayley was covered and lying with Jack. Riley sat with the gun pointing forward, and he didn't move until the cops arrived.

Not one single muscle.

* * * *

Elliot was tracked heading north on the US-75, and when Agent Jones told Riley, he had to bite back the need to find out where they were holding Elliot just so he could go and beat the shit out of him. The entire family had descended on them, snow or no snow, but it was after everyone had left, the adrenaline faded from Riley's body and left him in something akin to shock.

Jack was up and walking, and the doc had given him a fairly clean bill of health but with the usual warnings. The blow to the head, and the blood were more scary than life threatening, despite the short lack of consciousness, and he refused to go to the hospital. Selfishly, Riley was more than happy with his husband's decision, promising he would watch over Jack at home for any signs of concussion. Once Hayley was asleep, all Riley wanted to do was hold Jack. He shuffled to one side of the bed and pulled Jack close in a hug and then cradled him against his chest.

"Hayley seems okay," Jack said so quietly Riley had to strain to hear.

"She said she never liked Elliot." Riley sighed. It never failed to amaze him how perceptive kids could be. "In her eyes, he was already the bad guy. All he did was cement that fact, and she wasn't surprised."

"Poor kid."

"Jesus, Jack." His grip tightened in Jack's hair, and Jack made a muffled sound of protest. "We didn't know what had happened to you," Riley repeated for about the hundredth time. "Elliot was covered in your blood."

"He hit me near his truck. Guess the blood came from him dragging me into the barn."

"Don't do that again." Riley pressed a kiss to Jack's shower-damp hair.

"What?" Jack chuckled. "Get myself hit in the head with a two-by-four?"

"Yeah, that."

"I'll try not to."

"Daddy?"

Riley looked up. Hayley stood in the doorway, her stuffed dog in her hand and her other hand curled into her PJ top. Wordlessly the two men separated from their hug, making a Hayley-sized space between them. She climbed in, leaned into Jack, and clung to him briefly and then did the same to Riley. No one said anything, and in a few minutes, she was curled into a tight ball and her breathing was low and even. Riley felt tears choke his throat, and he looked at Jack, who appeared just as affected. This scrap of humanity, his daughter, was possibly the best thing to happen to them next to meeting each other.

"I love you," he whispered to his husband over Hayley's sleeping form.

"Love you," Jack replied.

On the pillow above her head, in front of the broken carved post, they held hands.

* * * *

There was no snow on Christmas Day. There never really was in Texas, and neither Riley nor Jack had expected it. The whole family descended on the D, and despite Donna cooking the dinner, it felt to Riley like they were hosting Christmas in their own house. Donna announced her and Neil's wedding was set for Valentine's Day. Eden and Sean looked way past friendly, and Sean's proposal over the main course wasn't entirely unexpected. Beth and Steve passed on the news that Beth's last rounds of tests were good and that the doctors had deemed her heart stronger now; Sandra and Jim watched, smiling and holding hands.

The conversation turned to the FBI and to the forged documents that had caused Riley to feel like he needed to do what he could to make things right.

"And you still don't know what the Feds wanted in all of this?"

"Apart from names further up the food chain? No. They set me up, they set that accountant up."

"They never said one word about… y'know?" Eden asked curiously with a wave of her hand. They weren't talking about things in front of the kids. No sense in blurting the whole mess out in explicit detail.

"Nothing." Riley answered. He shrugged and went back to concentrating on his meal, the reassuring warmth of Jack's arm pressed to his.

"Are you going to get your money back from that transfer you did?" Jim asked at a break in the conversation. Riley looked at his dad. The money had never been an issue, not after nearly losing Jack and with Hayley in danger. Sometimes he wondered if having money was something that always brought unhappiness, or whether he had just been unlucky. When the FBI had contacted him to say that the account had been found and the money transfer reversed he realized he didn't care. Familiar anxiety built in him and as if sensing Riley's confusion Jack leaned in to him and hand fed him a carrot with the butter sliding on his lip. A subtle lick of Jack's skin and the reassurance in his husband's blue eyes was enough to center him.

"The FBI released the funds to the bank; it's all there apparently," he finally said.

"Drinks on you next time we're out," Steve smirked. He leaned down from his chair to swing Emily up onto his lap. It seemed like yesterday that Emily was a babe in Beth's arms and now here she was walking and falling over a lot. Riley and Jack had bought her a small toy keyboard and Steve had threatened to kill them or buy Hayley a drum kit—whichever one was worse revenge for the discordant noise Emily could create.