It's in his eyes.

The answer to any question I could ever think to ask. The feelings he so desperately seeks to hide. From despair to humor. Everything he is shows in his eyes.

All I had to do was look and see.

The man who sits there, speaking so softly of a boy named Marco, is the same man I work with every day. For all his attempts to appear one-dimensional, he remains thousands of layers deep and twice as complex.

When he started speaking, the last thing I expected to hear was the low, even tone describing his actions. Actions he still views as fault in himself. Memories that stir much pain and no pride.

And although his eyes show the shadows of pain; another, more pressing emotion shows through. Understanding. He sees the guilt I feel, and he, too, knows it well apparently. A connection I'd never would have imagined seems to leap to life between us.

I would have thought by now people couldn't surprise me. I've seen too much, examined too many. When I met him, I was so sure that I had him pegged. I think he enjoys proving me wrong.

Yet that isn't what this is about. This is a rare instance of his need to help betraying the true depth of his heart. He tries so hard to keep it hidden, tucked away like a hurt little boy. The little boy he was once, long ago, is still hidden within him. I can see him looking out at me through the eyes of the man before me.

Through sharing his pain, he hopes to lessen mine. A greater gift a man could bestow upon a friend, I cannot guess. And I'm touched by the simple gesture.

Words fail me, and I find myself startled when Bailey rushes into my office. A last glance and I meet his eyes. I can see the fragile spell is broken as he blinks quickly. The truth is still there, only once again shielded.

Oddly enough, I miss that fleeting bond. Perhaps someday he will be allow me to repay the kindness.

End