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Description
He ran all the way to his tower, which was in fact still empty, and quickly climbed up to the top before he could be spotted by another unfriendly face.  He stood in the little box alone, furiously wiping his eyes with the ugly gray sleeve of his Squire's uniform.

It wasn't his fault that his parents were irresponsible.  It wasn't his fault that he'd been near death in sickness as an infant.  It wasn't his fault he recovered everything but his left eye.  It wasn't his fault he was a poor fighter because of his handicap.  It wasn't his fault no Knight wanted to train him.  It wasn't his fault he couldn't see carts before they ran into him!

He just wanted a place to belong.  Someone to belong to.  But no one wanted him.  No one in all the world.

The hours passed more slowly than they ever had before.  It seemed a hundred times longer than three and a half hours before he heard footsteps on the ladder, and a voice calling up to him.

"I heard about your find today, Carmichael," Terrick commented as he appeared at the top of the ladder.  "What a crazy thing, eh?"

Allan said nothing, scooting off the chair and brushing by the older Squire-in-service on his way down.

He had only the energy to trudge along the uneven ground of the butte, but as the comments and obnoxious calls to him increased, he found himself running in the direction of the infirmary.  He flung the door open, hoping that the Doc would be alone.

His face fell as he saw three or four men crowded in a corner, gawking at what he assumed must be the baby.  There was no way he could stay here, they'd just manage to find a million ways to tease him and put him down.  He turned dejectedly, hoping to slip out before they noticed him, but a voice called out his name.

He turned, already coming up with a number of excuses to leave.  But it was the Doc standing behind him.  He looked flustered, worried, or angry, none of which seemed natural for the usually even-tempered man.

"I'm glad you're here, Allan, maybe now I can convince them to leave."  His voice was low, tense.  The boy didn't know what had happened in the last three and a half hours to put him in that condition, but if he could help, he would.

"Just start handing them things," he said suddenly, "say you're going to change his diaper, and as long as they're standing around, they might as well help."

The Doc's tired eyes brightened a little.  "You think that'll work?"

Allan shrugged.  "I know I wouldn't want to be around a messy baby with all my friends there.  That's it, just give Joshua there a handful of diapers.  He's the leader of that group.  He won't want to be put on the spot, and they won't want to be asked next."

A familiar smile spread over the doctor's face.  "You wait right here, and I'll put your plan into action."

Carmichael smiled back, hoisting himself up onto a sickbed to watch.

"Knight Joshua," the Doc started, making Allan snigger at the formality, "I could really use your help.  I noticed that you don't seem to have anything to do right now, that's the only reason I'm asking."

The Knight straightened, muttering something the boy couldn't quite make out.

"Oh?  That's what I thought.  Here, you hold these.  Now, let me just take off this old diaper—"

There was a clamor of surprise.  The three Knights in the back all moved back a little more.  Allan swung his legs and laughed.

The Doc's voice was calm, but somewhat disappointed.  "I thought you said you weren't busy.  Well, I'll take back those diapers."  He turned to the next man.  "Perhaps you're a little less busy than Joshua, Tompkins?"

Tompkins shuffled back another step, bumping into his friends.  He raised his hands defensively.  "Sorry, but…" he fumbled.

"Oh.  I was sure one of you would be willing to help.  You certainly didn't seem to have any engagements when you were standing around all morning."  A smile.

The friend on the spot muttered something about his post, and a general murmur of agreement followed.

"Are you sure none of you wants to help change his diaper?  It's been so long since I last changed it, too."

Allan clamped a hand over his mouth as the group politely fought its way out the door.  When they were gone, he let go and laughed harder than he had in a long time.  He hopped off the bed, going to the good doctor's side.

The white-haired man still held the diapers, mirth showing in all of his features.  "I congratulate you on a successful campaign, Carmichael.  People have been in and out of here all day, and not a cut or cold among them.  Why don't you go and lock the door; we won't let anybody else in until they can prove they're in need of medical attention."

The boy nodded, eagerly jogging to the door and back.  He looked down at the baby, feeling that he recognized him after only the few minutes he'd held him that morning.  "Can I pick him up?" he asked.

"Let me change his diaper first, since I've got all this out already."

Holding out his hands, Allan said, "How can I help?"

The Doc paused, looking pleased.  "What?" the boy asked.

Handing the diapers over, the older man smiled softly.  "I don't care what the Duke or anybody else thinks about you, Allan, you're more of a man than any Knight here is."

Carmichael dropped his head, gripping the cloth he held.  "Do you know what happened today?"

"Trueman came by and told me about it.  He knew you wouldn't be coming by until your shift ended.  I'm sorry the Duke grilled you like that, he could use one or four lessons in etiquette."  He reached down to unwrap the baby from the same blue cloth he'd been found in.  "Here, we only need one of those."

Carmichael set down the diapers, holding onto one.  "If Trueman hadn't been there, I might have actually died in that room."

"That Knight certainly does live up to his name.  He's one of the most trustworthy people I've ever been blessed to meet."

The boy considered this.  "I don't mean to be out of place, but I always had the impression that Trueman didn't like you very much."  He looked up, "I mean, I don't know, that's just what I felt."

The Doc looked slightly puzzled.  He unpinned the baby's diaper.  "I'm not sure how you came to that conclusion, but I can assure you that Trueman and I are quite close friends."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it.  But you know…you two are the only two people to ever, y'know, care about me."

"And we're happy to.  Trueman and I…well, we're different from everyone else here.  We can appreciate an outsider's point of view.  You should have heard him rant about the Duke when he was in here earlier.  Now if you want to see some one he doesn't like very much, that's the man."

"Funny, I wouldn't have guessed that, seeing him in there.  He acted normally as far as I could tell."

The Doc reached out to drop the soiled diaper in a sanitary bin.  Allan handed him the fresh one.  "Trueman has a silly habit of hiding his real feelings.  It's hard to tell how he really feels about a person without straight out asking him.  But let me tell you, he's ridiculously fond of you."

Carmichael grinned sheepishly, looking away.

"And so am I, I might add.  Now, watch closely, this part is tricky."  He deftly folded and wrapped, pinning the diaper in place carefully.

"How do you know how to do up diapers, Doc?" the boy asked curiously.

"My medical training covered a lot of areas," the man replied, crossing to the sink.  "If I had to deliver a child—help a woman do it, of course—I would have to know how to properly put on a diaper, and perhaps even teach the mother how.  I didn't set out to become a purely military doctor, you know."

Allan nodded, having heard parts of the story before.  The Doc returned to his side, pulling the cloth back around the baby.  "Oh, I'm sorry, I really didn't help at all."

The Doc picked up the baby, who giggled, and handed him to Allan.  "You can consider that a test run.  You'll have plenty of chances to do it all yourself in the future."

"Am I holding him right?"  The boy asked, shifting carefully.

"Yes, perfectly.  Just remember to support his head.  You were holding him fine earlier, as well.  It was impressive."

The boy looked down at the even smaller boy in his arms.  Then he looked back up at the doctor.  "What do you mean, about me having chances in the future?"

"Oh, right, I guess you wouldn't know that part.  Here, have a seat."  He motioned to the padded chair at his desk.  "The Duke assigned Trueman to seek out a volunteer to go into the city and try to find the family.  Trueman thinks it's a waste of time, as the family for some reason or another decided that their baby would be better off here, and frankly, I agree.  But in the meantime, the baby is to be cared for in the infirmary."

Allan clutched the tiny life wrapped in blue.  "That's crazy!  We can raise him here!"

"Allan, think about it.  Is a military barracks the right place for a child to be raised?"  The doctor's voice was soft, his gaze gentle.  "None of us have the time or energy to look after him.  It's best if we find a place for him in the city."

The boy sat deep in the chair, as if to keep the baby as far away from everyone as possible.  "There's a place for him here," he said stubbornly.  "Just because somebody abandoned him doesn’t mean he doesn't deserve a family.  I'll look after him.  I'll raise him.  I was practically raised here, and I know what it's like to have parents who don't want you.  He'll never have to know that feeling, because I want him.  I want to give him a place to belong, and then we could belong to each other."  He blinked back tears that had been called forth by unhappy memories and deep feelings he'd kept boxed out of sight.

The doctor sighed, coming to kneel in front of the unwanted Squire.  He reached out to tousle the blond hair, then to wipe away a single tear that spilled down the boy's cheek.  "Listen.  You are wanted.  You do belong.  Your family is Trueman and me.  I'm sorry that your parents weren't up to the task, and I'm sorry they let you suffer like that."

"If you had been there when I was little, I bet you could've kept me from going blind," the boy hiccupped.

"Well, I wasn't quite a doctor 15 years ago, but I certainly wouldn't have let you get that sick to begin with.  And together, the three of us, we won't let this baby get sick at all, deal?"  He smiled warmly.

Carmichael swallowed his tears, a grin breaking crookedly across his face.  "Yeah, deal."

The baby made a gurgle that made them both laugh.

"What a strange noise," Allan said, settling the baby in his lap to free a hand.

"It's been a strange morning, I must admit.  A strange thing has happened to us."  The Doc rose and leaned back on a sick bed.

"Everything about this baby is strange.  That should be his name."  The boy poked playfully at the baby's nose, then ran fingers down a chubby arm.  The baby closed his tiny fist around the finger Allan nudged against his palm.  The boy grinned up at the doctor.

"You're welcome to name him Carmichael; you are his family now."

The boy shook his head.  "He needs a name that's all his own.  Let me think about it for a while, I'll find one that's perfect."

"Do take your time.  But whatever you decide, we'll have to tell the Duke that we plan to keep him here.  Who knows what his reaction will be."  He adjusted his glasses, smiling to himself.

"I'll have to take Trueman with me, I don't ever want to talk to that man ever again, but I could force myself to do it if he was there."

"Yes, you should have a talk with Trueman soon, anyway.  I don't think I'm supposed to actually mention this, but after his talk with the Duke, I think he's interested in taking a pupil."  He looked carefully ahead of him while saying this, sliding his eyes over to the boy after a long moment with a smile.

Allan was grinning like a madman.

Description
He ran all the way to his tower, which was in fact still empty, and quickly climbed up to the top before he could be spotted by another unfriendly face.  He stood in the little box alone, furiously wiping his eyes with the ugly gray sleeve of his Squire's uniform.

It wasn't his fault that his parents were irresponsible.  It wasn't his fault that he'd been near death in sickness as an infant.  It wasn't his fault he recovered everything but his left eye.  It wasn't his fault he was a poor fighter because of his handicap.  It wasn't his fault no Knight wanted to train him.  It wasn't his fault he couldn't see carts before they ran into him!

He just wanted a place to belong.  Someone to belong to.  But no one wanted him.  No one in all the world.

The hours passed more slowly than they ever had before.  It seemed a hundred times longer than three and a half hours before he heard footsteps on the ladder, and a voice calling up to him.

"I heard about your find today, Carmichael," Terrick commented as he appeared at the top of the ladder.  "What a crazy thing, eh?"

Allan said nothing, scooting off the chair and brushing by the older Squire-in-service on his way down.

He had only the energy to trudge along the uneven ground of the butte, but as the comments and obnoxious calls to him increased, he found himself running in the direction of the infirmary.  He flung the door open, hoping that the Doc would be alone.

His face fell as he saw three or four men crowded in a corner, gawking at what he assumed must be the baby.  There was no way he could stay here, they'd just manage to find a million ways to tease him and put him down.  He turned dejectedly, hoping to slip out before they noticed him, but a voice called out his name.

He turned, already coming up with a number of excuses to leave.  But it was the Doc standing behind him.  He looked flustered, worried, or angry, none of which seemed natural for the usually even-tempered man.

"I'm glad you're here, Allan, maybe now I can convince them to leave."  His voice was low, tense.  The boy didn't know what had happened in the last three and a half hours to put him in that condition, but if he could help, he would.

"Just start handing them things," he said suddenly, "say you're going to change his diaper, and as long as they're standing around, they might as well help."

The Doc's tired eyes brightened a little.  "You think that'll work?"

Allan shrugged.  "I know I wouldn't want to be around a messy baby with all my friends there.  That's it, just give Joshua there a handful of diapers.  He's the leader of that group.  He won't want to be put on the spot, and they won't want to be asked next."

A familiar smile spread over the doctor's face.  "You wait right here, and I'll put your plan into action."

Carmichael smiled back, hoisting himself up onto a sickbed to watch.

"Knight Joshua," the Doc started, making Allan snigger at the formality, "I could really use your help.  I noticed that you don't seem to have anything to do right now, that's the only reason I'm asking."

The Knight straightened, muttering something the boy couldn't quite make out.

"Oh?  That's what I thought.  Here, you hold these.  Now, let me just take off this old diaper—"

There was a clamor of surprise.  The three Knights in the back all moved back a little more.  Allan swung his legs and laughed.

The Doc's voice was calm, but somewhat disappointed.  "I thought you said you weren't busy.  Well, I'll take back those diapers."  He turned to the next man.  "Perhaps you're a little less busy than Joshua, Tompkins?"

Tompkins shuffled back another step, bumping into his friends.  He raised his hands defensively.  "Sorry, but…" he fumbled.

"Oh.  I was sure one of you would be willing to help.  You certainly didn't seem to have any engagements when you were standing around all morning."  A smile.

The friend on the spot muttered something about his post, and a general murmur of agreement followed.

"Are you sure none of you wants to help change his diaper?  It's been so long since I last changed it, too."

Allan clamped a hand over his mouth as the group politely fought its way out the door.  When they were gone, he let go and laughed harder than he had in a long time.  He hopped off the bed, going to the good doctor's side.

The white-haired man still held the diapers, mirth showing in all of his features.  "I congratulate you on a successful campaign, Carmichael.  People have been in and out of here all day, and not a cut or cold among them.  Why don't you go and lock the door; we won't let anybody else in until they can prove they're in need of medical attention."

The boy nodded, eagerly jogging to the door and back.  He looked down at the baby, feeling that he recognized him after only the few minutes he'd held him that morning.  "Can I pick him up?" he asked.

"Let me change his diaper first, since I've got all this out already."

Holding out his hands, Allan said, "How can I help?"

The Doc paused, looking pleased.  "What?" the boy asked.

Handing the diapers over, the older man smiled softly.  "I don't care what the Duke or anybody else thinks about you, Allan, you're more of a man than any Knight here is."

Carmichael dropped his head, gripping the cloth he held.  "Do you know what happened today?"

"Trueman came by and told me about it.  He knew you wouldn't be coming by until your shift ended.  I'm sorry the Duke grilled you like that, he could use one or four lessons in etiquette."  He reached down to unwrap the baby from the same blue cloth he'd been found in.  "Here, we only need one of those."

Carmichael set down the diapers, holding onto one.  "If Trueman hadn't been there, I might have actually died in that room."

"That Knight certainly does live up to his name.  He's one of the most trustworthy people I've ever been blessed to meet."

The boy considered this.  "I don't mean to be out of place, but I always had the impression that Trueman didn't like you very much."  He looked up, "I mean, I don't know, that's just what I felt."

The Doc looked slightly puzzled.  He unpinned the baby's diaper.  "I'm not sure how you came to that conclusion, but I can assure you that Trueman and I are quite close friends."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it.  But you know…you two are the only two people to ever, y'know, care about me."

"And we're happy to.  Trueman and I…well, we're different from everyone else here.  We can appreciate an outsider's point of view.  You should have heard him rant about the Duke when he was in here earlier.  Now if you want to see some one he doesn't like very much, that's the man."

"Funny, I wouldn't have guessed that, seeing him in there.  He acted normally as far as I could tell."

The Doc reached out to drop the soiled diaper in a sanitary bin.  Allan handed him the fresh one.  "Trueman has a silly habit of hiding his real feelings.  It's hard to tell how he really feels about a person without straight out asking him.  But let me tell you, he's ridiculously fond of you."

Carmichael grinned sheepishly, looking away.

"And so am I, I might add.  Now, watch closely, this part is tricky."  He deftly folded and wrapped, pinning the diaper in place carefully.

"How do you know how to do up diapers, Doc?" the boy asked curiously.

"My medical training covered a lot of areas," the man replied, crossing to the sink.  "If I had to deliver a child—help a woman do it, of course—I would have to know how to properly put on a diaper, and perhaps even teach the mother how.  I didn't set out to become a purely military doctor, you know."

Allan nodded, having heard parts of the story before.  The Doc returned to his side, pulling the cloth back around the baby.  "Oh, I'm sorry, I really didn't help at all."

The Doc picked up the baby, who giggled, and handed him to Allan.  "You can consider that a test run.  You'll have plenty of chances to do it all yourself in the future."

"Am I holding him right?"  The boy asked, shifting carefully.

"Yes, perfectly.  Just remember to support his head.  You were holding him fine earlier, as well.  It was impressive."

The boy looked down at the even smaller boy in his arms.  Then he looked back up at the doctor.  "What do you mean, about me having chances in the future?"

"Oh, right, I guess you wouldn't know that part.  Here, have a seat."  He motioned to the padded chair at his desk.  "The Duke assigned Trueman to seek out a volunteer to go into the city and try to find the family.  Trueman thinks it's a waste of time, as the family for some reason or another decided that their baby would be better off here, and frankly, I agree.  But in the meantime, the baby is to be cared for in the infirmary."

Allan clutched the tiny life wrapped in blue.  "That's crazy!  We can raise him here!"

"Allan, think about it.  Is a military barracks the right place for a child to be raised?"  The doctor's voice was soft, his gaze gentle.  "None of us have the time or energy to look after him.  It's best if we find a place for him in the city."

The boy sat deep in the chair, as if to keep the baby as far away from everyone as possible.  "There's a place for him here," he said stubbornly.  "Just because somebody abandoned him doesn’t mean he doesn't deserve a family.  I'll look after him.  I'll raise him.  I was practically raised here, and I know what it's like to have parents who don't want you.  He'll never have to know that feeling, because I want him.  I want to give him a place to belong, and then we could belong to each other."  He blinked back tears that had been called forth by unhappy memories and deep feelings he'd kept boxed out of sight.

The doctor sighed, coming to kneel in front of the unwanted Squire.  He reached out to tousle the blond hair, then to wipe away a single tear that spilled down the boy's cheek.  "Listen.  You are wanted.  You do belong.  Your family is Trueman and me.  I'm sorry that your parents weren't up to the task, and I'm sorry they let you suffer like that."

"If you had been there when I was little, I bet you could've kept me from going blind," the boy hiccupped.

"Well, I wasn't quite a doctor 15 years ago, but I certainly wouldn't have let you get that sick to begin with.  And together, the three of us, we won't let this baby get sick at all, deal?"  He smiled warmly.

Carmichael swallowed his tears, a grin breaking crookedly across his face.  "Yeah, deal."

The baby made a gurgle that made them both laugh.

"What a strange noise," Allan said, settling the baby in his lap to free a hand.

"It's been a strange morning, I must admit.  A strange thing has happened to us."  The Doc rose and leaned back on a sick bed.

"Everything about this baby is strange.  That should be his name."  The boy poked playfully at the baby's nose, then ran fingers down a chubby arm.  The baby closed his tiny fist around the finger Allan nudged against his palm.  The boy grinned up at the doctor.

"You're welcome to name him Carmichael; you are his family now."

The boy shook his head.  "He needs a name that's all his own.  Let me think about it for a while, I'll find one that's perfect."

"Do take your time.  But whatever you decide, we'll have to tell the Duke that we plan to keep him here.  Who knows what his reaction will be."  He adjusted his glasses, smiling to himself.

"I'll have to take Trueman with me, I don't ever want to talk to that man ever again, but I could force myself to do it if he was there."

"Yes, you should have a talk with Trueman soon, anyway.  I don't think I'm supposed to actually mention this, but after his talk with the Duke, I think he's interested in taking a pupil."  He looked carefully ahead of him while saying this, sliding his eyes over to the boy after a long moment with a smile.

Allan was grinning like a madman.