WHEN THE ADVENTURE WAS WILDEST

This AU is a sequel to my story "When The Adventure Got Wilder."

            The day after Robinson and West severely beat Smith, they accompanied Maureen into his quarters as she checked on the progression of the bruising where they had both gut-punched him, and also examined his broken nose to be sure that the men had reset it correctly before they'd even fetched her.

            "Are you feeling any better?" she asked solicitously.

            "No," he answered flatly. "I...."

            "What?" she prompted.

            "Nothing. I had a question, but...no, nothing."

            "Come on, out with it," she coaxed.

            "I'm afraid you'll get angry. Or they will!" Smith eyed the men in trepidation.

            Maureen sighed.

            Robinson suggested, "Go ahead and ask your question. Just do it as politely as possible, and we'll try to suspend our tempers."

            Smith was still observing West nervously.

            Seeing this, West said ruefully, "Yes, Smith, I'll try to restrain myself, too. Now what is it?"

            Smith swallowed hard, and said carefully, "Ma'am, I'm just trying to understand a contradiction. You are undeniably a kind, gentle being. And yet, you knew what they were going to do, but still you left me!" He started to cry. "You left me there! Alone with them! You knew what would happen! It just seems so out-of-character! I don't understand!"

            Maureen sighed louder, but clearly agreed that she owed him an explanation. "I didn't like to do that. It was very hard for me to leave you like that. But it was your worst offense yet. I knew that you had to be punished, or your transgressions would just continue to escalate. Plus as angry as they both were, I didn't think I could stop them anyway." She eyed the men, and they raised their eyebrows at her, apparently in agreement with her supposition. "But yes, as I said, it was hard on me. It was hard on the children, too. They're suffering, too." At his dubious expression, she added, "No, not as you are, obviously. But this has been difficult for everyone."

            Smith nodded. "Thank you." He sniffled. "You know, the fear was almost as horrible as the pain!"

            "I'm sure," she acknowledged in a soothing tone, and patted his hand.

            Smith tried to pretend not to see how the professor and the major smiled slightly at his comment.

            But Robinson elaborated, "That was intentional. We knew that the more we frightened you, the less we had to hurt you."

            West nodded agreement.

            Smith looked quite surprised, and sincerely said, "Oh. Thank you." Then he marveled, "You really were...easier on me than you might have been??"

            "Oh yeah," Robinson said with emphasis, as West nodded decisively.

            In wonder, he remarked, "And yet it seemed like the end of the world, when it was going on."

            Both men shook their heads slowly, in patient reply.

            Maureen entered Smith's cabin five days after his beating by John and Don, and told Smith that it was high time for him to get up out of the bed, at least for a little while.

            "No no," he cried, panicked. "I can't!"

            "You say that word so often lately. Now why do you think that you can't?"

            "I'm afraid that I'll run into them!"

            "Into John and Don?"

            "Who else?!"

            "But, Dr. Smith, they've visited you in here multiple times, just like the rest of us have. You've seen them."

            "Yes, but not standing up!"

            "I beg your pardon?"

            "I feel relatively safe here in this bed; I doubt they would beat a bedridden patient, after all. But I can't face them standing up. That's when they knock me down!"

            She sagged. "You honestly think that they'll knock you down from now on, every time that they see you standing up??"

            "I don't know, but I feel too vulnerable to risk it!"

            She sighed. "That makes me wonder how you managed to rise again, each time, while they were beating you."

            "I didn't! They dragged me up each time! Forcibly! I tried to resist: curled up into a ball! But they forced me up, knocked me down again, forced me up again, knocked me back down yet again; now I know how a bowling pin feels!"

            "Oh, Dr. Smith!" She turned to leave.

            "Wait!"

            "What?"

            "You're going to tell on me, aren't you???" His voice was stricken.

            "Do you know how childish you sound?"

            "Don't tell! They might get angry again!"

            "Well, I told them I was going to rout you out. I have to give them some explanation."

            "Do you think they'll get angry???" His voice was faint and childlike.

            She sighed again. "Probably not. Certainly not angry enough to hurt you. You really don't want to get out of there and go with me?"

            He shivered. "I can't!"

            Not long after Maureen left, John and Don entered.

            "Don't be angry! Please!!! Don't be mad at me!!"

            "Now what's the problem here?" Robinson kept his tone even.

            "By now, you can't be anything worse than just sore," said West. "You need to start getting up and about, at least for a little while."

            "I'm too scared!"

            "Yes, Maureen told us. Now what are you so afraid of?"

            Smith stared as if to indicate that they'd lost their minds in needing to ask such a question.

            "All right, aside from the obvious," Robinson acknowledged. "But do you really think that we're going to do anything to you right now??"

            Smith shrugged helplessly. "Please don't force me up. That'll seem too much like...like...!"

            West rolled his eyes and shook his head.

            Robinson suggested encouragingly, "Why don't you come out and take a nice walk with Will and the Robot. It doesn't have to be a long walk; we know you'll be weakened for a bit. But it'll be good for all three of you."

            "No no, I mustn't do that!!!"

            "Now why not?"

            "That's one of the ways I most often got into trouble with you two in the past! Will, the Robot, and I would go walking, and get tangled up with aliens, and you two would get angry with me!! Admittedly, that's not the scenario that led to the recent holocaust, but it still led to many of your past threats!"

            "'Holocaust??'" said West. "Seriously???" He clearly felt that Smith was wildly exaggerating, in his word choice.

            But Smith nodded frantically, missing West's irony. "Yes, Major: in situations just like that, you've threatened me millions of times! Professor, you've threatened me at least hundreds of times after events just like that!!!"

            Robinson said, "'Millions?? Hundreds?' Exaggerate much, Smith?"

            "Don't you see; you've traumatized me!!! But at least you should be happy if I'm not willing to risk your wrath ever again! It means that I won't cause trouble anymore!!"

            "'Traumatized?'" repeated West skeptically.

            "Come on, Smith. Up and out of there." Robinson took hold of him gently and drew him firmly upright.

            Smith was shaking uncontrollably. "Oh no!! Dizzy!!!" He leaned helplessly into Robinson, who held him steadyingly.

            Robinson looked down into his face, and said simply, "All that happened was that you crossed a line, we punished you, and now it's over."

            Smith blinked back up at him. "From my point of view, you two terrorized me, brutalized me, and now you want me to act as if it never happened." His eyes switched furtively between the two men, trembling, terrified. "And now I'm desperately hoping that you two won't hurt me horribly for my honesty!!!" Tears welled.

            Robinson sighed. "No, Smith. We're not going to hurt you for your honesty. And for that matter, we're not expecting you to act as if it never happened. We know that things will be awkward for a while. But all of that is irrelevant to the fact that you need to get up and around at least some each day from now on, if you're to fully recover."

            Smith eyed him, humbled, in complete submission. "Yes, sir. As you say. I will never dare to defy either of you, ever again."

            Robinson and West both looked surprised and impressed.

            Robinson replied, "Well, then you'll have nothing to worry about."

            West smiled mildly. "But really Smith: now you know how a bowling pin feels???"

            "She told you." Smith looked crestfallen, but then almost smiled back.

            Still, for quite some time, every time that Smith rounded a corner to suddenly come face-to-face with Robinson and West, he cried out and jolted in shock. Once, he even tripped in a panic, and they caught him and saved him from a tumble.

            Days later, John, Don, and Will were at the drill site. They had been working for hours, and needed a break and a chance to relax. Verbal teasing led to tumultuous, playful roughhousing. With a twinkle in his eye, Don pulled Will's arms behind his back and held him for John, who feigned a punch and intentionally missed. Will first gasped in surprise, but then managed a smile, realizing that their playing was harmless, and remembering that they were, after all, indulging him. John laughed, shouted, "Turnabout is fair play!", grabbed Will and spun him, and then pulled Will's arms behind his back in turn, and held him for Don. Don swung and missed as well. All three were laughing boisterously by this time.

            "Have you two lost your minds??!" bellowed a frantic Smith from nearby. They hadn't even seen him arrive. "What're you doing to Will?!!"

            All three sagged. Will hastened to say, "It's all right, Dr. Smith; they're just playing."

            John and Don exchanged a look, noticing that Will was careful not to reveal the complexities of why the two men would be playing with him in such a manner.

            Will continued, "They're not hurting me, and they're not doing anything wrong. We're just having fun."

            "Oh my heart!" Smith worried faintly. "I shall never be the same!"

            Don turned to John, and said softly, "Maybe we should have left him in bed."

            Meanwhile, Smith had sat down heavily upon the ground in shock.

            Feeling sorry for him, Will went over and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, saying, "It's all right, Dr. Smith, but it was sweet that you were concerned for me."

            Smith mopped at his brow. "But, of course, it's not as if I could have done anything about it if they had been hurting you."

            "I know that." Then, Will looked guilty. His eyes darted back and forth between John and Don on the one hand, and Smith on the other. "I guess you probably figured I should have tried to stand up for you when you were in trouble."

            Smith glanced at the two men standing above him in alarm, remembering how they'd threatened him anew after his injudicious remark that no one had tried to save him and thus all were responsible for his traumatic fate, dropped his gaze, and hurriedly said, "It's all right, Will. I know you couldn't have stopped them in any case. Don't fret at all about it." Then he looked upward from under lowered lids to see if John and Don were comfortable with the way that he had responded.

            Seeing that, they eyed him in return with neutral expressions that clearly okayed how he had handled Will's awkward inquiry. But they just as clearly recalled what he was worrying about.

            "Even so, I'm sorry," the boy offered.

            "Don't worry, really," Smith replied uncomfortably. Plainly eager to change the subject, he insisted, "But I'll swear I've never before seen you two 'play' with Will in such a worrisome manner. Whatever possessed you??"

            Will shot an uneasy look at John, who hedged, "Well, after all, Smith, Will is growing up; he has to get used to this sort of thing. At sometime in the future, Don and I will have to teach Will to fight."

            It was difficult to see who looked more nonplussed at that: Smith or Will.

            Don took it up, "Sure. One day we'll have to teach him how to throw a punch. And how to take a punch."

            Now, Will and Smith both appeared alarmed.

            Trying to reassure his son, John said, "Yes, but that won't be for years. It won't be before you're ready, son."

            Will hesitated. "What if I'm not ready when you think I should be?"

            "Well, then we'll wait. But don't worry, Will, it won't be until you're eighteen or twenty."

            Smith spoke uneasily, "Of course I suppose that you're right, that it's necessary out here, among all these dangerous aliens. But it seems such a shame; Will is such a sweet and innocent boy, after all."

            "He'll change as he grows up; he'll toughen up. He'll be ready by then," John assured him.

            With a smirk, Don wondered, "Smith, didn't your father ever teach you to fight?"

            John and Will smiled slightly at the amusing suggestion.

            "Certainly not," Smith said, discomfited. "My father was a college professor, and he wasn't given to all of that violence nonsense. And of course, we didn't have all of these dangerous aliens running around back on Earth anyway. Oh good heavens, all of this has left me quite worn out; I need to go back to the ship and lie down."

            Amid their rueful grins, he left.

            Then, Will turned melancholy. "Dad? Don? When you two asked me all those questions that time, were you trying to find out if I was ready to...um...take a punch? Or even if I...wanted to??"

            They nodded.

            He gulped. "I'm not. What if I'm never ready?"

            "Well, we'll deal with that issue as it comes. But like I said, it's years away. Don't be frightened, Will."

            "Was that what that word was, that you guys wouldn't tell me what it meant??"

            "Uh yeah," John admitted hesitantly. He glanced at Don. "Maybe we should go ahead and tell him, just basically."

            Don shrugged that it was up to him.

            John said, "Well, simply put, Will, there are people who actually enjoy pain. They're called masochists."

            "Yeah, that was the word." Then he screwed up his face. "Enjoy pain??? Are they crazy???"

            "Maybe," John said evasively. "Or it might just be a variation of normal; no one's sure."

            "And you thought I might be...one of them???"

            "Well, no, we didn't think so, we just wondered if you were. Big difference."

            Will stared in disbelief. "What if I had been??? Were you really going to...???"

            "Indulge you? I don't know. We would've had to work that out."

            Will was looking at Don with the same question.

            Don shrugged. "As he said, the three of us would have talked it out."

            Will shivered and made a face. "I'm not...that."

            "We realize that, son," John assured him.

            Will was trembling as he looked from one man to the other. "I'm getting scared again!"

            "Now Will...."

            "You promised you wouldn't really hit me!" His eyes traveled more frantically between the two men.

            "We'd never beat you like we did Smith. That was what you asked us, and that was what we promised."

            "I'm afraid! Just like him!"

            "Will, come on now," Don tried. "When the time comes, we'll just show you lightly what it's like, not hit you hard like we did Smith. And even with him, we held back a good bit, compared to what we'd do to a dangerous alien."

            "Will, you don't want to follow Smith's cowardly example through life," John said earnestly. "Come here, son." He reached for him.

            "No!! Leave me alone!" Will ran from them, back toward the ship.

            "Will! Wait...!" Don called.

            "No, let him go," John advised quietly. "You and I need to talk about this. Something still isn't right here. Will is making far too big a deal about something that he knows is at least six or eight years in the future. Why would he be overreacting so far in advance? You know, I've read that some masochists are sufficiently ashamed of that tendency, or confused by it, that they can't bring themselves to admit to it. So, what recourse would that leave them to get their needs fulfilled? Overblown reactions whenever the topic arises, maybe. Drawing attention to the subject. Perhaps, his denial and fear, and our comforting and cajoling, are even part of the thrill."

            "So, you think that Will might be, after all?"

            "I don't know, but we'd better be paying careful attention to this until we figure it out."

            "We'll have to bluff him."

            "If I'm right, that won't do it."

            "Okay, but if we decide that he really is a masochist, what then??"

            John hesitated. "I don't know. But, one step at a time."

            "But, do you mean that we might even...indulge him???"

            He looked at Don intently. "Only very, very lightly. We'll have to be awfully careful."

            "You know, if he is what we suspect, he could even be getting a kick out of telling us of his fear."

            "For that matter, so could Smith."

            They stared at each other, and then decided, "Nah!" and broke up laughing. That absurdity was a relief from the grimness of their suspicions about Will.

            The next day, John asked Will to help him to carry some items into the power core. Looking around for Don, and not seeing him, Will acquiesced, though he once again became fidgety when John sealed both doors behind them.

            "Why did you do that?" Will asked uneasily, his insecurity evident.         

            John put down his containers, turned, and squatted down to see his son on his level. "Will, you know how much I love you, don't you? And that there's nothing I wouldn't do to fulfill all of your needs, even those needs which I don't fully understand. I'm not entirely sure that you understand your own feelings these days, either. Ever since we clobbered Smith, your emotions and behavior have been upended."

            Will shook his head slowly back and forth.

            Don stepped out from the shadows. Will appeared ready to scream, and backed away from him. "Why did you bring me in here???"

            "We're in here because you can scream all you want, without alarming your mother and sisters," John explained. "This area is soundproofed."

            Don spoke for the first time. "Will. We know. We have you figured out. There's no point in you denying it anymore."

            "But, wait...! No!!! I...!!"

            John asked, "Will, have you ever heard the Shakespearean quote, 'Methinks thou dost protest too much'?"

            He shook his head frantically. "Penny's the one who's into all that Shakespeare stuff; I prefer science!"

            "It simply means that the harder that you try to convince us that you're not a masochist, the more that we suspect that you are."

            Tearfully, Will implored, "Please don't!!"

            Don asked shrewdly, "Will, when you beg us like that, do you have shivers all down your spine?"

            "Yeah. It's fright!!!"

            Don said quietly, "No. It's not."

            John pressed the point, "Were you disappointed that we didn't follow you when you ran away yesterday?"

            "I don't know!" he answered, squirming, tears beginning to flow.

            "Maybe my question was too vague. I mean, did you want us to chase you??"

            "I don't know!! Don't do this to me!!" He backed against the nearest wall.

            John stood and motioned. "Come away from the wall, son. We don't want you to hit your head."

            "What're you going to do???"

            "The least possible. To fulfill your needs, without doing any real damage."

            "Help!!!"

            "Whether you believe it or not, we are helping," Don told him gently.

            "Let me go!!!"

            "Don't make us drag you away from the wall," John said calmly.

            "Don't make us force you," Don said firmly.

            But as Will appeared to be paralyzed with fear, ever-so-gently, John eased him out away from the wall, saying to Don, "I sure hope we're reading this right." When he stopped Will's forward motion, the boy stood perfectly still, not even attempting to return to the wall from which John had pulled him. His expression was that of wordless stark terror.

            The two men exchanged a long look. Then, Don balled his fist and struck the lightest blow imaginable into Will's middle. Will doubled over and grunted. Very gently, John formed a fist, and dealt a feather-light blow against Will's chin. As the boy began to fall backward, John hastened forward and caught him, easing him tenderly to the floor.

            John and Don bent down on either side of him, and carefully examined him, as they had done Smith.

            "Ow," Will murmured, and John winced in sympathy.

            He caressed a small cheek. "Are you all right, son?"

            "Think so," he muttered.

            "Will, try to tell us: did we do right?? Did we figure this out right???"

            The tiniest nod brought both men tremendous relief.

            Then, Don asked, "Shall we do a replay now and then?"

            An even subtler nod was his reply.

            John and Don exchanged a look of mixed relief, acceptance, and mildest concern.

            Then, Will mumbled, "Don't tell Mom and Judy and Penny. Or Dr. Smith. Please! I could never explain this, and I don't want to try."

            "Neither could we," agreed John, and he and Don both nodded.

            Don said, "Well, if we ever get caught, like we sort of did with Smith yesterday...." He looked a question to the other two.

            Will furnished the solution. "We'll just have to pretend that you two are teaching me to fight...a few years ahead of schedule."