The Gathering

CHAPTER 15

It turned out he was right though. At exactly sunset the caves received a gravely injured visitor. Anna was the first to see it, bursting forward with such speed Payton had never seen on her before, screaming at him “GET RICK!” Payton spun on his heel and dashed for the teenagers’ room, not bothering with explanations, just thrusting the image into his head.

“NOOO!” he moaned in horror and suddenly disappeared, almost as if he could teleport now as well. But Payton knew he had just moved to fast for even him to see.

When he returned to the cave entrance he found the boy leader already there, seated on the floor and clutching the figure to him, sobbing “Cathy.” At first Payton thought she was dead, but then she stirred in his arms and one bloody arm raised so she could stroke his cheek, choking out his name weakly.

He caught her hand as it started to drop, tenderly licking the cuts on the back of her palm to close the wounds with his healing saliva before begging her to stay conscious and tell him what happened to her. She wavered on the edge of fainting from pain and blood-loss, but somewhere found the will to hold on and tell him.

Zimmer and his forces had attacked at dawn, using a breach of CC’s defenses they weren’t even aware of to get inside and use Peter and Andrew as hostages to get them all to surrender. Back at his Ice Palace he had Tommas, Steven, Paul, Lance and Johnathon tortured to try and get Rick’s location from them, but it wasn’t until he tortured her and tried to rape her that her father took drastic action. He freed her and Paul and the two teenagers escaped. Cathy managed to make it to one of Zimmer’s jets, but Paul was recaptured holding the robots off from her.

“Raped” Rick looked her up and down in horror, noticing how her clothes were torn open, revealing torn underwear and two red hand prints on the inside of her inner thighs. His eyes widened even more when he saw the blood there too. “Oh god Cathy…”

“He tried to get an Ice Servant to rape me, but he only managed to…well…enter me. That’s when dad tore him off me and killed him. I am still yours when the time comes Rick.” He moaned her name again, laying his forehead against hers, tears in his eyes that steadily splashed on her face, washing away some of the blood splatters.

She didn’t speak again, on the very edge of unconsciousness when Jeffery and Sings The Storm approached together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the telepathic mutant\Idar looking happy for the first time, truly happy. He spoke gently “you’ll have to turn her.”

“I can not” Rick said weakly “I just can not.”

Anna and Payton approached him together “this is no time to be stuck on what you THINK should or should not happen Rick. Cathy is dying, she needs you.”

“You are right,” he murmured softly, leaning over her and adopting a compelling and hypnotic tone “Cathy, look at me.” He had to repeat it a few times before it sunk in, but finally she forced her heavy eyelids open and the deep green depths set on him.

As she watched he raised one wrist to his mouth, tore it open with a fang and moved the wound to her lips “drink me if you want to live.” However Cathy’s expression said I can’t, it won’t work and she didn’t move to open her mouth. His own blood trickling down his arm he pleaded with her “please my love, do this for me and our future children, I can not loose you too.”

She blinked okay but I still say it won’t work at him and slowly opened her lips, letting him lay the wound directly over her open mouth. Cathy choked on the first few mouthfuls, fighting to keep it down, but then it became easier. Meanwhile Rick was slowly licking the blood from her exposed sections of flesh, paying particular attention to the whip scars on her back and the knife wound just above her right breast.

When both their sexual excitement grew to unhidable levels he drew his head back, eyes glowing and picked her up, carrying her-still feeding at his wrist, to his room.

Once there he gently forced her from his flesh and while she lay placid he undressed her from the torn bloody cloth, removing his own shoes and socks, jacket and shirt, leaving his jeans on. He then reopened the healing wound and gave it back to her so she could continue to drink his blood and he could continue to slowly lick the drying liquid from her body but with more teasing, using the coagulant in his saliva to close every cut, scratch-even over every well and forming bruise.

While he did his blood was changing, becoming more like liquid love, filling Cathy not just with strength but a deeper sense of who and what he was while it excited her even more sexually as what he was doing to her body.

When his tongue touched her inner thighs she wanted to scream with pleasure and triumph and as if knowing Rick pulled his wrist back, licking the wound closed before returning to her inner thighs, allowing Cathy to vocalize her pleasure, moaning her desire as his hands wandered up to squeeze her breasts.

Despite the pleasure and love filling her, so was something else, something that felt like a blowtorch, screaming through her body, overpowering her body systems as it went.

By the time she was about to be overpowered by her first ever pinnacle his lips touched her further up, between her legs and inside. Cathy ran out of breath, her entire body arched high and her teeth clenched, only a hiss escaping. It was so intense that when it finally released her she felt herself about to black out.

She wanted to stay awake, she wanted to be with Rick-not in that blackness, but she again heard his hypnotic voice, this time in her head. “Sleep my love, sleep deeply. When you awake we will be together, you will be as I am.”

For how long he didn’t know Rick crouched by her side, watching her sleep, monitoring her condition through his blood inside her. When there came a soft “how is she?” he was almost startled. Instead he just calmly said, “she will live but require time to heal from her injuries and take to the change. When she wakes she will be ravenous, but I will take care of that.”

“You gave her more than necessary as it was, you are drained and getting weaker. Payton just fed me, allow me to feed you so you can remain here and watch over your mate.”

“I appreciate the offer but I need to organize the rescue. I have been neglecting the position and job I appointed myself in our group. The breach of CC’s defenses would not have even happened if I were there to find it and fix. I saw through her blood Zimmer has taken the entire city and surrounding area. Even as I speak he is extending his control beyond here, using men and women as slave labor with their families as hostages. They are civilians, they do not disserve this.”

Eagle looked angry “no one disserves to have their freedom taken from them, even children-especially children.” He visibly fought to calm himself “go talk to the others, I will watch over your mate until you return.”

Rick opened his mouth to say there was no need and he would sense when she stirred but something occurred to him. Eagle still felt guilty for what he had been doing all these years under Hawkos' control. He felt incredible guilt, that he betrayed his people and couldn’t be trusted. He was here now because he wanted to earn that trust back, what better way than to guard the new chiefs chosen mate?

Another thought occurred to him, it was also the perfect opportunity for Hawko to get back at him. Strike at the one he loved while she was helpless.

Eagle seemed to read his thoughts and looked hurt “you think I will harm her.” Rick pushed that paranoid thought away, he had to start trusting others, especially the Idars' they were his people now. If Sky could, so could he. He looked up at the other, locking eyes to the other as he rose “when she stirs, summon me immediately.”

As he was passing the other he reached out to stop him, grasping his shoulder. Swallowing his instinctive fear Rick looked at him to hear “thank you” in a soft sincere voice.

“I trust you Eagle” at that very moment he meant every word “I know what it is like to know you are betraying or hurting the ones you love, but are helpless to stop it, no matter what you do or try.” For just a minute he seemed to struggle for control and Eagle spoke out softly, interrupting him “I tasted your memories, I know you do.” He nodded firmly to him “and that makes us more than blood brothers by our maker AND masters, it makes us kindred souls.”

“I know it does” he said gently, laying one hand on the others shoulder, a mirror of his own “take care of my Cathy for me” and when the other nodded he realized him and moved off.

A few hours later he heard Eagles mental call and returned to the cave-room in time to see a fully turned Cathrine stirring, moaning hungrily. He dismissed the other and closed the stone door tight, reaching out to scan her as he moved to lie by her side. As he thought there was no more pain or weakness, just hunger, incredible nerve-wracking will-breaking thirst like she had never felt before but he had, he knew all too well.

He spoke her name gently, hypnotically, urging her to open her eyes and look at him. Sleepily she answered that she couldn’t, she was afraid of attacking him from hunger. This absurd notion made him want to laugh at her, SHE would hurt HIM! Even though he could feel her power awakened, as if the Idar had released her inherent abilities, he knew without a doubt she wouldn’t harm him, no matter how her hunger grew. It just wasn’t her nature.

She was too innocent, too pure to succumb to such a violent act. Her father was, but definitely not her. So he just smiled and said hypnotically “open your eyes.”

“I can’t” she started but he just continued calmly “open your eyes.”
“I told you I can’t Rick.”

“Cathy” he said softly and when she looked up automatically he held her eyes with his. Slowly he spoke “I know you hunger, my love, the virus required an enormous amount of energy to heal your wounds and damage. It needs to be replaced. Accept it and take from me as you did that first time, trust me as I trust you.”

“I am not like you and the others Rick, I can not accept it and I can’t…”

“You can not go and drink blood, even though you already did-because it was to save your life. What IF you did not REALIZE you was actually doing so?” She looked intrigued “what do you mean?”

Rick leaned over, pressing his lips to hers and waiting until she opened them before taking the opportunity to explore the inside of her mouth, stroking her newly fanged incisors. Something not hunger shot through her something she had only felt once before, when he had kissed her that first time. She went weak and ‘gooey’, wanting to completely relax in his arms and let him do whatever he wished to her, to give him everything she was and would be, can and could be.

But that in itself was the scariest thing, no one was supposed to mean more to her than her ‘father’, he was all that was SUPPOSE to matter to her-without him she didn’t exist. In fact she felt she felt if she lost him she was totally ready to die with him. It should be that way with her father, she SHOULD be willing to sacrifice her life for him, but it seemed he was second in importance to her next to Rick.

Wait-her father had always said she was his daughter, not his creation, what if either she was finally listening or he had somehow transferred her feelings to Rick?

The trouble was she just didn’t know.

But she did know one thing, when Rick touched her she burned for him. When he kissed her she yearned for more and when he held her she was happier than she could ever remember being before and part of her knew it was wrong feeling this way. She wasn’t suppose to love another, she wasn’t suppose to be able to feel sexual desire flooding her every nerve or sense and most of all, SHE wasn’t even suppose to consider having children and a normal life-let alone dream of it.

What made it all the more painful was the desire to provide Rick an worthy heir, someone like Andrew and Peter, but his own to nurture and love, someone he could love unconditionally and raise right, to protect from his life. But she would NEVER be able to no matter how much she wished to do so, she was created to protect and serve, not reproduce-she just didn’t have the right ‘equipment’.

She suddenly sensed his soothing presence, his reassurance that again she would come through when the time came, again totally confident of his words. Before she could protest, before she could question, his thoughts filled her mind. She was thinking too much instead of concentrating on THEM to which she apologized and tried to relax.

However she found it near impossible to do, once her mind started on a certain path, especially an important one, it was hard to distract from it. That was until his mouth touched her between the legs again, only this time he didn’t suck-oh no-instead his tongue and lips teased her. She sucked in breath sharply, so sharply she ran out, helplessly writhing and when she finally managed to get more air into her lungs it only came out again as intense moans.

He was doing something to her with lips, teeth and tongue that was driving her mad with pleasure-so much and so intense she wanted to scream.

“Go ahead my love” a voice, heavy with desire and gentleness, spoke in her head “the others would not care if they hear. Besides, this is none of their business.”

Somewhere deep inside her she knew that since Rick was in control he could repress the fear of touch and fully enjoy her body as she enjoyed the feel of his fingers and lips on her body. But then how did he know how to do all this to her body? How did he know that doing this set of actions, this long and this way would have this set of reactions from her? It couldn’t be from her blood or memories, she had never been touched sexually before, even before him, yet he seemed to just KNOW how and what excited her.

She couldn’t think anymore, something was interfering in all thought but pleasure, something powerful and strong, something she didn’t want to give in to, but her body did.

Hunger, mind-blowing incredible thirst overpowered her good intentions and any desire to return her pleasure. It wanted Rick, not just in her body but his hot life filling her mouth, sliding down her throat and filling her teeth, the need for his life-filling her stomach at odds with the need for his hard body to fill and cover hers, pushing her hard into the floor.

For the first time in her life she was wild with need, with her own desire, for the first time in her entire short existence she thought only for herself. No constant thoughts of her ‘fathers’ safety and comfort, no desire to remain in his mind, anchoring his tormented conscious in her love in calm.

It was just an overwhelming hunger, she wanted him over her, thrusting himself so deep in her she’d never get him out-or want to, both of them wild and gripping each other so hard their claws would cut into skin and flesh-badges of their love for each other and excitement and pleasure they took in each other body.

Somehow Rick read her thoughts, her desires for he pulled away from her flesh and moved up to take her in his arms, pulling her against his body hard. She felt the evidence of his desire by the tightness of his pants, the hardness of his groin area and the way he fought to control his breathing.

This only aroused her all the more.


It only got stronger and more out of control when he started licking and kissing her neck, nuzzling her ear and then teasingly nipping it with teeth. His mouth went higher up to her ear so he could whisper “I know what you want, do it, my love.” He pushed her head firmly into the croak of his neck; moaning, “taste me” against her ear, tongue wondering down to run back and forth-almost in a massage-over her pounding pulse.

Cathrine sucked in breath sharply as he did and was instantly overwhelmed. By sucking in she had inhaled his scent, a mixture of masculine lust and strength and a mirror of her own love, but also to her shock-the deep dark scent of wild, the same scent she got from Kellar during mating season.

Somehow Rick had the base soul of a wild animal, a creature of nature. No wonder he freaked when touched without his consent of control, pure animal instincts waring against human emotions and desires. It also explained why he could touch her now without fear; his animal side had accepted her as its mate and coupled with his love and trust in her never to harm him in any way he could completely accept her. His body and soul could accept her.

She was thinking again, she realized and so closed her eyes and purposely breathed in another lungful of his scent. Lust and another one, something that made her temperature go up a few hundred degrees. Her mouth started to water, the hunger almost hissed out loud and she couldn’t help it, she leaned over to lick his skin there. His flesh tasted of sexual satisfaction and desire, the wilderness of nature-of running free and happy, not locked or chained up.

Of freedom, something she had felt she had never had before and that in itself was a powerful seduction. She was created to protect the source of all human life and preserve it, not love herself or have her own life and the freedom his body offered her. But the yearning to be free was incredible, overpowering and she was tempted enough to reach for it. Before she could think about what she was doing she contorted her mouth to match his shoulder and with a moan she bit down as hard as she could.

Rick moaned as her fanged teeth pierced his flesh, his body thrusting against hers, so aroused by it she felt him struggling not to bite her back. Not that she would have minded if he did, it would have excited her all the more. Instead he gritted his teeth and fangs and began to stroke her body all over, moaning encouragements to suck, to feed from him. So she did so, taking a cautious swallow.

Light blossomed in her, light and sensation. She felt free, free to love, to touch, to have Rick inside her. Not just that but she could feel everything he felt, his love for her-complete and unconditional-his guilt he wasn’t there to protect and save her from harm, even his own desire and need to show her how he felt through his hands.

Her answer was assurance she knew how he felt for her now, she felt just the same for him and didn’t need proof, as long as they were together now, that was all that mattered. He seemed unsure about his ability to show his love, he had been so damaged by the abuse he had suffered at the hands of ‘THAT MAN’ when he was nine and his animal had been irreversibly damaged and would always be too damaged to be normal, for him to lead a normal life.

This time she was there to reassure him of his worth, both as who he was and who he would become. He began running hands up and down her body and back, making noises of encouragement, his clawed fingers occasionally tugging or playing with her wings, helping her gain the courage to keep drinking. His blood filled her senses, making her feel encompassed by him, like she suddenly understood him and his soul all that much better. And that helped her to drink deeper.

She could taste the growing pleasure and love which only pushed her own higher and higher until she could feel that storm inside her gathering again. At the same moment it hit her she felt Rick’s fingers pressing on a spot on her back between the wings. Instantly the pleasure doubled, streaking through her body like wildfire, overpowering any ability to think.

When pressed by him again it tripled, making her writhe helplessly, her entire body burning for him. Her pleasure seemed to be affecting him too for he moaned loudly and his sharp fangs touched the sensitized flesh of her own neck, visibly fighting not to plunge them into her and feed.

He seemed to be having the same problem below, the instinct of the animal demanding he claim his mate finally while the wounded soul wared with the scared child, still too afraid to try it, puberty waring with the scared child who thought of sex as only causing pain and trauma.

When he pressed it a third time she suddenly understood and understood everything. She and Richard had been ‘born’ for each other, only she could heal the wounded animal inside him and only he could help her become more she was, what was meant to be. Richard was her way to evolution.

Her father had told her from the moment of creation she was his ‘daughter’ not his clone or protector, now she knew the truth, now she knew he had been telling her the full truth all this time. It all filled her, until she could no longer contain it, she let go of his neck and reared back her head, releasing everything inside her in one scream-all she was, had been and could be, all she was destined to be and would be now she was with him and he could help her be.

Light burst from her entire being, filled and surrounded her so powerful she was swept up and out until it was too much and everything went dark and limp.

* * * *

His consciousness came back to him slowly by degrees. Pain surrounded him, encompassing his body, making it hurt even to breathe. But pain had been a part of his life as long as he could remember and so he used his sheer will to push it all away from him. It was unwanted and unneeded. More than that, it was unnecessary and hampering.

Although he had to admit, the alien had hurt him badly, worse than a year ago, perhaps the worst in centuries.

A sound caught his attention, something he hadn’t heard since the last battlefield he was on. Opening his eyes he looked around to find the cell full. All the adults were chained to the walls, his fellow protectors unconscious, only the two boys Andrew and Peter free, cowering together in a corner.

Paul lay on his back on the floor near his feet where he’d obviously been thrown carelessly, unconscious as well, beaten severely. His head was backing the resuscitation position, every breath not only shaking his entire body in tremors of agony but sending bloody foam to his lips, the breath bubbling wetly in his lungs.

He had been on enough battlefields in his long life to know the sound and sight of a punctured lung when he saw one. The boys rib was probably broken and had pierced a lung, causing some internal bleeding somewhere to fill the organ. And he knew only a hospital or Rick could fix this, and soon or the boy would drown in his own blood.

There was a temporary way to help him, but he couldn’t get to him, chained as he was.

Somewhere deep inside that little voice he always associated with his ‘demon of logic’ whispered insidiously to him he knew if he shifted to his true form the weak metal links would just drop away from him, that in his true form no one and nothing had the power to touch him, let alone hold him.

In his true form he was free of all mortal weaknesses such as pain-nothing could harm him. He was, for lack of better term-immortal and eternally young in body if not soul.

It was ironic, Zimmer wanted the boy he had come to care deeply about as a weapon, yet never knew the perfect one was right under his nose the entire time. The thing was on some level he also found it funny, Zimmer was intimidated by him, which was why he didn’t go near him or touch Cathrine until today, why he beat him so severely when he had the chance now and a year ago, to try and break him and make himself feel bigger and more in charge, yet one steally look from him and the man was scurrying away like the coward he was.

He cringed slightly in his bonds at the thought of his true self. This mortal shell, this disguise may be prone to just about every human weakness but without Cathrine by his side he was a killing machine pure and simple. And being unable to connect to his precious others mind he didn’t want to even risk it, not locked in a cell with those he had come to care about as well as two children, the very though of harming them terrified him.

The form he now wore may be only a disguise, a mortal disguise, but it granted him things he didn’t normally have, things humans and other mortals took for granted but to him where lacking since birth. A conscious for one-the ability to recognize right from wrong, the simple ability to love for another, to feel all he was given and give it back.

In the start he wore this form to hide his true appearance from those outside his village, humans related better to their own faces. He had began to trust this group and see them as the close family he had never had, never let himself have, in his long life. They were the brothers and sisters he had but never let himself get close too, the boys and even Rick found their way into his heart and sub-conscious mind and he found himself staying, not so Rick and Cathy could be together but he-in all honesty-wanted a hand in how the two boys were raised.

The trouble was he was afraid that if the others knew what his true heritage was they would judge him. Not just that but he feared in his true form the friendship wouldn’t stand up to the thrill of battle joining Zimmer would have. Centuries of experience and knowledge would win over even Rick’s genius and the group, including his precious other half would be the first to fall from this new alliance.

The sound of two young male voices, whispering in fear and concern dragged him from his thoughts and out, to the sudden possibility. Locating them curled up together in a dark corner he called out their names. Both heads snapped to him, joy on their faces “uncle Tommy! Thank god! Dad and mom and the others are out still! I thought they would be too hurt, they might die-Paul is SO hurt!”

“Listen to me boys” he made his voice as mesmerizing as possible “you both can help Paul, but you have to do exactly as I say.” To this Andrew frowned “what can we do Uncle Tommy? We’re too little, he needs daddy to heal him.”

“I can keep him alive until help arrives, boys, Cathy got away. But I need to be able to touch him, but I can’t from here.” His voice dropped and he spoke hypnotically over and over again “bring him to me, bring him to me.”

Together and with much hassle the boys managed to obey and drag the teenager carefully to his side. Andrew moved the boys arm so Tommas could take it in both hands chained behind him still.

He had known from the moment he first saw Steven, chained and gagged in that tent in his land of Africa two years ago that the man was an early half-breed warrior of his parental race, his birth family long dead-which made them related to him. Which made Paul a nephew of sorts, he couldn’t let him die when he had it inside himself to preserve him.

Although he had never used this side of himself on another living being before other than Cathrine he knew he had to try it, he couldn’t allow his little ‘nephew’ and the one his precious flesh and blood saw as a ‘big brother’ to slip away, besides, they were genetically compatible, the boy and his father came from his distant family, they were related.

Slowly he closed his eyes and concentrated on the connection to the flesh and bone and blood under his fingers. All he had to do was keep Paul alive until help came, he would do just that, no matter how long it took. Essentially he had to connect to the life force fluttering away, find it and link to it, to feed it with his own, to give him just enough to sustain it.

Too much and he risked overpowering and damaging an already dangerously weak system, too little and the body would die, leaving the soul to suffer inside a corpse. He remembered his best friend teaching him to do this in their early innocent years together. In this shell he could feel the love he had had for his companion that he hadn’t been able to feel before, the ache of pain that his murder had brought, but even that felt good compared to the emptiness of his true nature.

Shutting out everything, even his own sense of self he concentrated solely on his task, ignoring everything-even time-in an effort to maintain the fading life under his fingers. Even when the pain of his injuries started to return, even when exhaustion demanded sleep he refused to let the fading spirit so, he had allowed his best friend to die because of his own injury eons ago, this time he would NOT fail.

“Hear my voice Silton Stairer” he spoke into the mind, to the soul directly ”your destiny on this plain lies unfulfilled and I refuse to give you over to the other side just yet. I know you doubt your reason to exist when the one you love with all your heart and soul belongs to another, but fate has more in store for you than you know, if you give into the darkness beckoning you, how will you learn what that is? How do you know your destined true love is out there waiting for you? You would doom them to a life of loneliness or loves illusion because you died.”

He sensed the soul listening, caught the sense of confusion, how did HE know it wasn’t true love he felt?

“Granted I have never felt it myself young one” he said softly, sounding almost exactly like Johnathon for just a minute before he went on “I know I have never loved another than my Cathrine and my best friend but I have seen so many things in the centuries I have lived. I have seen destruction and death, war and all that is evil in the human race.

But I have also seen people struggling against all odds to make the world a better place, not for themselves or any reward, just to help those around them. I’ve seen humans risk or even sacrifice their lives with no thought of their own lives or safety, just to save others from danger.

And then I have seen love, love so powerful it transcends death and time, love that unites all those it touches, no matter age, color or creed. Love so pure and true it makes good men out of evil and slaves out of masters. But I have also seen people so afraid of being alone they settle for the illusion of love, living loveless marriages or soon getting divorced, all because they settled with the illusion instead seeking the real thing.”

How did he know his wasn’t the real thing?

“The simple fact if it was true, your other would return your feelings and love you equally, there would be no other for either of you. This is merely your first love. Look inside yourself, you know it is true. Your true love is out there somewhere, will you go for loves illusion or search for the truth?”

He would hold on, he would try for his real love’s sake.

“Good, stay with me and keep your mind linked to mine. Talk if you have to, just concentrate, Cathrine reached Rick and once he’s healed her they will bring the Idars to rescue us all. All you have to do is hold on until then and Richard will heal you as well.”

How did he know Cathy had reached Rick? Before being thrown into the cell with them, Zimmer had showed him his forces shooting her down. So in answer he let him ‘feel’ the link he shared with her and even though there was something blocking his access to her mind and body she was still there, alive and happy, he could feel it.

“She is blocking my access to her mind, that could mean only mean she is doing something extremely private and doesn’t want me ‘listening in’ so to speak.” He could guess what it was, and even though there was a moment of jealousy he now let his old feelings go in the true knowledge of himself.

After all, his father had found his true love, so had Lance and Johnathon, Payton and Anna had found each other-even if they had wanted to deny it at first, fate had brought them together, both as a couple and then as half-Idars. If his true mate was out there waiting for him, he’d be damned if he let them go.

He did as Tommas asked of him, but found just waiting was boring, especially when he could feel pain flooding his body and how every breath made him want to cough violently, which only made him hurt even more and distracted Tommas from his concentration.

So he tried just thinking about his life as far as he could remember, not talking just distracting himself until he could ignore the pain, aware that-on some level, Tommas was observing his memories while he kept him alive, but for some reason he didn’t mind it.

Perhaps it was because he was trying to save him.

Unaware of the passage of time, he soon became aware of a slow draining and pain gathering and it only took a few seconds to realize it wasn’t his own. He grew concerned, something was wrong, it hadn’t occurred to him Tommas was equally hurt, maybe even more than him, that made him start to think twice about the man using so much energy to help him.

Tommas was injured, perhaps seriously, yet he was expanding valuable energy trying to keep him alive until rescue, energy he should be using for his own wounds and injures. It made him feel guilty, he was preserving his life over his own, he was sustaining his body instead of healing himself. If ever he doubted the man’s sense of honor or his knowledge of right from wrong, he knew his soul and path with them was true. He knew without a doubt that no matter what happened and whatever the man truly was as long as he was with them he would always do what was right and that comforted him as nothing else would.

From then on he would always trust the man and in the man. He vowed that the man would be one of those under his families protection, even if it meant protecting him by himself. He sensed the others sudden shock and horror at the shared knowledge. For some reason he didn’t seem to feel he disserved another’s protection and he wondered why.

For some reason he suddenly found himself reassuring the other of his worthiness, it shocked him how little value the other had in himself. He seemed to not think of life or the future, only in terms of existing minute to minute, a creature of instinct and the present, yet he could tell this figure had a long history, longer than humanly possible.

He froze, on the verge of some great discovery, mind and body both in union still as a statue while he waited for the knowledge to strike.

Before it could there was a sudden commotion and he felt two more presences in their link, both familiar and welcoming. Although he welcomed them he was disappointed by the interruption when he was so close to the revelation of Tommas.

He felt himself being pushed from the link and back into his own mind and body, despite the pain every time he breathed and the overwhelming desire to cough, even though he knew he couldn’t without making the damage worse.

He felt himself being carried quickly, managing to force his eyes open long enough to find his father carrying him out of the alien’s dungeons, his face creased in fear and concern. This concerned him for he knew he’d live, he had no intention of letting go-so why the worry?

Moving his heavy head to the side he looked for the others, his mother; Tommas and the children in particular. His mother was beside them, heralding Peter and Andrew in front of her while Gwin and Johnathon limped ahead. Ricks father Lance had one hand to his bloody forehead as he moved and Cathrine-now an Idar-was supporting her father, and it shocked him at how much blood stained the barely conscious mans clothes and skin.

Once again he was struck by guilt at the man expending valuable energy to keep him around. As he was thinking this the green-green eyes moved up to lock to his and hold steady for long seconds, as if he knew his thoughts and was telling him off for it without words.

Looking around he found Payton and Anna by his mother’s side, protecting the boys and Alex was moving forward to aid Lance as he stumbled and almost fell. Up ahead was Richard and Eagle, a large group of Idars spread out around them to protect them and behind them was an equal group of human ex prisoners, mostly women and children.

Once out in the open the Idars seized each with clawed hands, spread and flapped their wings and took to the air, Cathrine with her father, Eagle with Lance, Richard approaching him and his father, looking at his dad first “you know he’s in a serious condition. I have to turn him to save him.”

“I know” Steven didn’t move so he spoke to him again “once I destroy Hawko he will be free, I promise you that.”

“I know” his father repeated, sounding suddenly so lost that he wanted to assure him he’d live, but couldn’t and wouldn’t draw breath to do so. Anything other than the small shallow wisps of breath he took now made him want to cough and cough hard.

Instead he touched his fathers arm and caught his attention. Startled he looked down at him and he tried to tell him with his eyes what he was feeling. He trusted his best friend with his life and more and wanted his father to as well, hadn’t the other teenager proven his worthiness to his parents by now?


But the look on his fathers face provided his answer. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust or believe in Rick, him and his mother were all Steven had left in this life, he was afraid to let him go, afraid if he did he’d loose him forever. He had almost lost him two years ago and didn’t want to risk anything taking him away from him again.

There was a comforting hand on his arm from the back and he rolled his head to find his mother beside them, looking up at his father with a gentle expression “Santon, my love you know you can trust him, believe in Rick and his friendship with our son, he will not allow anything to happen to him.”

Still his father didn’t move.

Rolling his head he looked up at his father’s face in time to see Richard and his fathers eyes lock for at least ten seconds and after sharing Tommas’ mind he knew instinctively that his best friend was sharing, through his new telepathic abilities, his love and dedication to him, to show him how he felt for him.

Slowly and almost reluctantly Steven reached out and handed him over, allowing him to take him into his arms and lift him from the ground and into the air. As the air started to blow over him he blacked out.

When he came back to awareness he was laying on something soft on his back. There was a hard pressure on the side of his neck just under his ear that stung slightly when he moved. His pain was gone but instead was replaced by a deep heaviness in all his limbs and a sense of light-headedness.

His eyes were closed but he could hear quite clearly, someone breathing near his ear and distant murmuring voices. He felt two warm hands, one over his arm on comfort, the second holding his head to the side. He could smell earth and something else, something coppery he hadn’t smelt since he had been impaled three years ago.

He managed to open his mouth long enough to moan out what he hoped was a recognizable name, to have Rick react, pulling from his throat, the hand on his arm moved away and a few seconds later it pressed to his lips, something trickling down his throat that made him cough suddenly which only hurt him.

“Easy Paul” his best friends voice came to him soothingly, “drink slowly, shallow mouthfuls at a time and it will get easier I promise.” He listened to the voice, gentle and full of friendship and protectiveness and tried to take small swallows as the liquid filled his mouth and trickled down his throat. He felt the pressure resume at his throat. It wasn’t painful as he had imagined, more like numb.

For just a second old feelings came through and he felt Rick recoil, starting to pull away but he tried to stop him, flashing his new knowledge to him and his acceptance of his new place in the scheme of things.

Rick slowly accepted it, his memories flooding him with the blood.

He found himself laying on his stomach, body screaming in pain. He couldn’t move his arms and legs, there was something rough and tight around his wrists and ankles. By experience he knew the feel of a severe beating when he felt it but what he couldn’t understand was why his rectum hurt so much, why he had the feeling of something trickling down his inner legs.

His answer soon came. A voice spoke out just to his left “so, is my little friend ready to show uncle Mallory how much he cares for him again?” Fear filled him with the pain, increasing it and he found himself helplessly whimpering “no, please not again, leave me alone!”

“Oh don’t talk like that, I think we’re more than just friends, aren’t we” the voice was closer and he flinched as far away as he could when he felt the fingers running through his hair. His reaction seemed to have pissed the voice off because he felt a blow across his face and he yelled “little brat, with all I’ve given you!” There came numerous other blows making want to cry and scream in pain until it suddenly stopped, there was a slight shifting under him but and something touched him from behind.

He jerked, knowing what would come next, wanting to escape but knowing he couldn’t. Before he could speak, before he could move something big and thick and fleshy was being thrust up his rectum and there was a loud groan of pleasure. When the object was all the way in he managed to scream, everything inside him echoing the cry, and it was as if his entire being, his soul and flesh was screaming for freedom from his agony and terror.

To his shock there was instant connection with another mind.

He was just drawing breath to scream to it for help when a barrier was slammed up between them, and it was gone. This only made the terror twice as bad, for just a second or two there he hadn’t been alone, someone had shared his experience, his terror and agony, his betrayal and need for freedom.

Now he was alone again, alone with this evil man.

“Look at the camera, let my friends see your handsome face” he was slapped, again and again while the thing moved inside him until his head was ceased and he was forced to look up at a mirror in front of them.

Paul gasped at what he saw, he was looking through Rick’s eyes, feeling with his emotions and his body but that wasn’t all, it was as if he was him, a direct memory.

What he was seeing was both horrifying and disgusting but in some ways he understood, it answered everything he had ever wondered about his best friend and his trauma.

He saw Rick, a younger Rick of perhaps eight or nine, tied to a bed on his stomach, beaten eyes and cut face, completely naked with arms and legs stretched out, blonde curly hair mattered to his head with blood, sweat and tears. Behind him was an huge burly man, gripping his hips and it was obvious to even Paul what he was doing.

But why to Rick, why to a child?

Everything started to get fuzzy and it was a battle just to hold on so he didn’t, why should he when consciousness meant fear and pain. The days then weeks and months were bleared together by forced meals, forced violations and beatings and each time his soul shrieked for freedom and part of him snarled and struggled for freedom, an animal spirit fighting for dominance.

He became suddenly excited, realizing for the first time what his best friends soul truly was, the base of an wild animal.
Finally he slowly came too to hear a soft “child, can you hear me? Child can you answer me?”

He cringed, whimpering, trying not to move or seem conscious.

“It is all right young one, I will not harm you, I am coming to rescue you. Remember you connected to me before?” he felt the mind reconnect to him “I’m sorry I cut you off but your pain and terror would have hurt me so severely I wouldn’t have been able to help you. Hold on, I’m coming, I will be with you shortly, just hold on to the knowledge you will soon be free. Just remember, when I arrive to close your eyes and keep them closed. Promise me.”

“I promise” he/they whimpered.

An hour later the man returned, without word or hesitation he grabbed him, ignored his whimpers and started again on him. Half way through he felt the presence in his head again, only stronger and more powerful this time. Fulfilling his promise he closed his eyes and dropped his head, even though the man slapped him and snarled, “look at the camera!”

There was a soft sound he almost missed but the man didn’t, the object inside him stopped moving and came and exclamation, “what the hell...”

“You SON OF A BITCH he’s just a child!!” the voice was furious and the grip on him was suddenly gone-along with the thing inside him.

Just before he blacked out the last thing he heard was the man cry “what’re you doing?” A slight note of panic was in his voice then a loud ear-piercing scream of excruciating agony, which was cut off suddenly by a chocked cry of pain.


When he finally came out of it, it was to the laughter of an infant. He was dimly aware of the passage of days behind him, of the gentle and soothing presence caring for him, nursing him back to consciousness, bathing and covering his wounds and bruises with warm cream.

The baby laughter was followed by a strange sound, more infant laughter echoed by the warm soothing male laughter of the figure who had gave him such care lately. There was something about that laugh that tugged at his heart and made him want to hold the owner in his arms for all time. He could hear sadness, loneliness and pain-not the physical sort but the mental pain that ran so deep it could never fully be expressed.

Curious as to what the sound was he opened his eyes a little and looked around himself. He was on an wood and cloth cot in a corner against the wall. The high roof and concrete floor told him it was an old abandoned warehouse, steel and wood as far as he could see-dull and uninteresting until his eyes reached the wooden crib not far away and his breath caught in his throat.

It was beautiful-amazingly detailed and designed-crafted by an obviously skilled woodsman. The sound and laughter came again, drawing his gaze away from the crib to sweep the room. What he found was a figure of barely late twenties, tall and sickly thin with skin the color of bleached bone, hair jet black to his shoulders and dead straight, except for the little that curled around his ears. He wore all black that emphasized the parlor of his skin-black wool with black leather boots.

He looked almost like a bikey, but he wasn’t afraid, maybe because of the sad and lonely laughter as he was obviously changing the baby’s diaper. He even discovered the source of the sound and reason for the baby laughter when the man leaned down to blow raspberries on the infant’s tiny stomach-causing it to giggle again and grab a bunch of his hair tightly in its small hands.

The figure then sat on a nearby padded chair, bottle-feeding the baby while he hummed ‘Greensleeves’, rocking the infant as he did and then burping the child before the two nodded off-safe and protected in the chair.

And soon he couldn’t help but follow them.

When he next awoke the figure had the baby on its back on his stomach, guiding the babies movements as he\it played with the toys. The baby even seemed to love the rattle. After only a couple of hours of this the figure wrapped an arm around the baby and slowly sat up, turning it to face him sitting the child on his knee so he could gently bounce him, the baby burping loudly so the figure laughed once shortly and spoke for the first time, full of affection “piggy Pete.”

The baby giggled and kicked its arms and legs once.

On the forth time he reached a decision. This figure was obviously no threat to him, any guy that gentle with a bay wasn’t likely to hurt him. So he waited until the figure sat in the comfy chair again, bottle-feeding the baby before he spoke out, voice rasping and dry but free of shock. “I’ve always wanted a younger brother.”

The male adult’s eyes flickered up at him for a few seconds but he didn’t move other than that –for which he was grateful. He had barely got up the will to talk out let alone let him know he was aware without having to deal with a possible threat. The figure spoke out, voice soft and gentle-soothing and sad at the same time, one word only “truly?”

He nodded, the figure going on with “so you are an only child?” and when he nodded again the figure looked up “do you want to nurse him?” Instant withdrawal, he didn’t want that responsibility just yet. So the man asked “hungry?”

“How did you feed me while I was…” he faded off, unable to continue.

“I was a medical student not too long ago. I stole saline and things to help you from the nearest hospital. I know you have been through a lot and I had to touch you to bring you here and clean and patch you up, but believe me I know how you feel and exactly what you have been through.”

“Do you?” He challenged and the figure looked up directly in the eyes, his eyes so green they were almost white, and said softly, “yes I do.” He was shocked when he saw himself in those eyes-mirrored emotions and everything he felt and had been through and for some reason that made him more than just ‘a man’ but a kind of ‘brother.’

Saddened that this obvious gentle soul suffered such pain and terror as he had he asked softly “who did it to you? Mine was a man who said he was a friend of my dad.”

“Do not believe that for a minute” the figure looked at him intently “and do not think for a minute that you were responsible in any way for what happened. You did nothing to encourage it or disserve it in the first place. That man was evil-pure and simple-and evil men get their happiness from the misery of others-especially those smaller and weaker than them. They do not disserve to live.”

Shocked by this emotional statement he started to protest, to state his part in it, when the figure locked eyes with him and said firmly “you did NOTHING to disserve it.” Reluctant to agree he asked him “who did it to you?”

The eyes shifted away from him “my father. My father beat me when I was your age but it was my sister who hurt me like you felt. She killed our father than attacked and almost killed me. Then she forced something into my body that meant she could control me like her puppet and made me do things with her-things like what you went through and worse.”

The pain coming from him was so real he could feel it. The figure went on as if unable to stop now he could talk to someone “that is why I live here with Peter instead of a proper house. I am always running, always hiding. I have spent most my life trying to stay away from her as far as possible. Once-just before I found Peter-she got me back…” he was hunching in on himself-the pain growing more intense by the second. Still he had to ask, “how did you escape?”

“When she grew distracted by her pleasure for a second her control over my weakened. Instead of struggling I hurt her-I did not want to but I had no choice.”

“How did you hurt her?”

“Like this” he shifted the baby so he could nurse him in the croak of his left arm and raise his right, palm up so he was looking at the back-including the nails, knuckles and all. The nails were longer than normal for a male adult, tapering into points that looked surprisingly sharp.

As he watched the muscles twitched slightly and the nails grew out from the fingers, curved and sharp like cat-claws. Turning his palm down so his nails were aimed at himself the figure pretended to draw his nails down over his face, going from the left eyes down over the cheek in a long scratch of all five nails, half-blinding his sister he realized.

“With the pain and loss of partial sight she was unable to keep her command over me and I threw her off me.”
“What did you do then?”

“I ran. I ran until my legs hurt, I ran until I could not breathe and still I ran. I ran until I fainted and when I came too I ran some more. I ran for days, too terrified she would catch up to me to stop until hunger and exhaustion made me. Then I only stopped long enough to feed and get my strength back before I ran again.

However in the next town-just outside on a freeway I found a trashed car with three lives inside-two teenaged parents and a newborn baby boy. The male was dead already but the girl was alive and in agony, the baby untouched and uninjured. The baby I got out easily but the mother was pinned-I could not get to her though I did try-I tried as hard as I could. But both of us knew I would never get her free in time.

She begged me to get away with her son before it was too late. She said she saw something in me that she trusted with her child’s life and soul and asked me to promise to love and care for him, to raise him as my own child. I said I could not, I had done so with my sister and she had turned out wrong, evil, but she said this was a different situation and still she begged me.

So I said yes to stop her growing hysteria-planning instead to find some relation of the two to give him to but she must have realized what I was thinking, for she told me they had no relations left, they were orphans from the streets who had found each other and love-neither had a single trace of family or relation left.

I let the mother say a teary good-bye and only left at her growing insistence-neither of us wanted little Peter hurt by the coming explosion.” He jingled that feeding baby before he went on “leaving her there was the hardest thing I have ever done, but I could only think to repay her bravery by fore filling her last wish- to be to Peter what ‘Zealer and I can’t, a family’ a father. So for Peter’s sake I have had to stop aimlessly running and neglecting my health. I have had to THINK instead-think ahead of Gabrelle. Where do I go next? Where would she never expect me to go? How do I block her from sensing my presence? Over the last six months I seemed to have perfected it, but I am always on guard for traces of her presence. I can never let her endanger Peter’s life.”

He understood this.

Over the next few days he slept less and less of his time away, wanting instead to be with his new friend who told him his name was Loel, Loel Turtlie. Loel seemed to understand him where no one else could. How he thought, how he felt and what made him tick. Every theory or unusual thought he had Loel would listen too and put in his own instead of laughing at it or shrugging it away as if it was rubbish.

He even told him about his family curse. His new friend understood this all too well “you see there is kind of a curse on my family line as well-my father’s side.”

His curiosity piked he had to ask “what sort of curse?”

“My mother told me about it when I was about your age before she died. There was a great war once and my distant ancestor was killed in battle. In anger and grief his widow cursed their child. ‘If it is fate that means the man I love is taken from me then those that follow him and come from those of his lust will know my pain in equal.’ Ever since then-from their son down our line-we males have always lost those females in our lives when we love them the most. My mother died in childbirth to Gabrellle, my grandmother was killed in an accident when father was too young to remember and I have lost Gabrelle-though not in the same way-she turned evil, despite my efforts to raise her right.”

He was saddened by this.

While he slept Loel would fetch food and drink with diapers and formula for little Peter, leaving him to care for the baby. It didn’t take long before he started treating the baby as a little brother, in fact from the first time the boy looked up at him and the tiny hand latched to his middle finger, he was hooked.

This baby WAS his little brother as far as he was concerned and he loved him as one-just as he loved Loel like a fragile big brother. He wanted to protect both from everything, even the man’s own self if need be and ESPECIALLY from his evil sister. She must NEVER hurt him again, he swore to himself, wanting to heal his hurt soul and keep him from ever going through it again.

Peter-on the other hand-was a different matter. From the moment he had looked into those green eyes he hadn’t seen the wide eyed innocence of a baby but the same old soul fighting against a useless body that he had felt. And while his memories of the past life were gone he still had days or times where he knew he had seen or felt it’s like before-as well as the remainders of certain feelings and emotions. And on certain days or times during his eight years of current life he had had a weird sense of de ja vu, not like normal people did, but as if he had seen this event before it happened-as if predicting it before it happened. But it wasn’t prediction-it was more like having been there before-having done it before.

Things started to grow suddenly strained between them.

Loel had returned from a food run to ask him about going home and to his family. But he didn’t want to, he felt safe and needed with Loel and Peter in a way he had never felt before and wanted more than anything. Besides, with Loel he had someone who understood and knew HIM, someone else who was a freak compared to everyone else-but he would NEVER call his friend that.

Somewhere inside he knew really he was hiding from what had happened to him-that by being with Loel and Peter he was denying his past and the pain and horror-the betrayal-but refused to admit it.

Loel kept asking until one day he started looking at him with sad and knowing eyes.

When he next awoke it was to hear Peter wailing loudly and hurried gasps of agony. At first he thought Loel must have gone on another food run but then he remembered he had just been on one that morning. Opening his eyes he found Peter in his crib, legs and arms kicking and red-faced as he screamed.

Loel was on his left side on the floor, facing him, arms holding his front end off the floor-head down and hair hiding his face-and while that wasn’t alarming it was the pained breathing and the sight of his torn clothes and blood-covered legs-arms trembling under him in agony that caught his attention.

“LOEL!” he screamed, jumping from the cot and running to his side, afraid for his friend’s life and what would have and could have possibly hurt him. As he touched his friends shoulder the young man shuddered and looked up slowly, eyes-once an intense green-now gone a weird glowing red. From out of the slightly parted mouth both sets of incisors-top and bottom-were long and as sharply pointed as his fingernails were. He wasn’t frightened of him, only saddened “how long have you been a vampire, Loel?”

“As long as I care to remember,” he answered thickly around the fangs “this is what my sister forced into my body to control me.”

“She’s a vampire mistress?” he was frightened. The other nodded without looking up and before he could speak again the other had as if realizing something. He looked up at him, fear and horror in her eyes “you have got to go before she finds me again.”

“No Loel, I won’t leave you her alone to face her.”
“You MUST Rick, do you not see? She will use you and Peter against me, you have got to go and take little Peter with you.”
“I can’t leave you.”

“You have to Rick, please, it would hurt me more if she hurt you both to get to me than if she just did more than this to me…” he motioned at his legs. With tears blurring his eyes he realized that he was right. If Gabrelle hurt Peter or him, Loel would be so upset he would loose him and he didn’t want that.

It was Loel’s soul or his life. Besides, he could always return and help him when Gabrelle was gone.

“All right” he said as he pulled the terrified baby from its crib “but you have to promise to come see me when she’s gone.” When Loel just looked at him silently he frowned, afraid Loel would leave him alone to his fears and pain “Promise. Promise me or I won’t go.”

The sad eyes looked at him silently for a few seconds then he whispered softly “very well, I will. Now go.” There was a sound and his head snapped up, crying out desperately “GO, NOW!” Taking the map and note Loel passed him he fled out of the building-terrified and with a firm but gentle grip on the baby he soon reached the bus stop shown on the map, playing little lost boy he begged the bus driver “Please! I want to go home! Take me home!” He didn’t even have to fake the terror he felt or tears in his eyes.

The bus driver took one look at his fading bruises, cuts and torn bloody clothes, the thin blanket he clutched around himself and Peter and the screaming baby and instantly took pity on them “of course love, where’s home?” He handed her the map and she looked it over for a few long seconds “I know this place it’s on my route. Sit down and I’ll take you both there,” she motioned behind her at the seats.

Looking the passengers over he saw a young couple, middle aged one and a few people by themselves, men AND women of various ages. All he felt was fear, any one of them could be evil like the one Loel had saved him from. How could he sit back there with them and act normal?

The woman from the middle aged couple made the decision for him, standing up to slowly approach him, eyes wide in horror and body movements slow to show her as non-threatening. “You poor dear” she clucked “come sit with us and tell us what happened to you.”

Reluctantly he did so, telling them about the ‘bad man’ and what he did to him between sobs, about Loel rescuing and caring for him as well as his past and abuse at his father and sisters hands and finally having to flee his sisters constantly. “So your friend Loel is a victim of his sister-a serial killer-who survived once and since then he’s been hiding out from her-running from her?”

He nodded solemnly “she’ll never let him go, never now that he flees her instead of being like her. She wants him to be just like her so they can be together but he wants to help people-like being a Doctor-not hurt them.”

“That’s why he saved you and the baby?” Again he nodded. The man with them whispered softly, gently “why are you so scared? What made you run to the bus stop crying so badly?”

“She found him” he sobbed, “I woke up and he was lying on the floor, his legs all bloody and he can’t even stand. He told me I had to go or she’d hurt me and Peter too.” The group around him understood, the bus driver stopping long enough to ask, “where does he live?”

“It’s on the map, why?”
“Don’t worry” she caught up the handset of her C.B radio “I’ll call Head Quarters and they’ll send the cops around to help him.”

“NO!” he looked up at her, afraid and imagining the cops turning up to either see Gabrelle and Loel and kill them both for fear of their true appearance or Loel’s sister forcing him to hurt or kill them in which case they would have to kill him again. “You don’t understand! She can make him do things, bad things. He doesn’t want to do them but she can control him, make him do them.”

“How?” they asked and he used the shake of his head to look away at his lie “I don’t know but she can. If they go and try to help him, she’ll make him kill them and they’ll have to…have to…” he swallowed in fear. The bus driver hesitated, receiver in hand before sudden inspiration hit her “how will you know when it’s safe?”

“Loel promised to come see me when she was gone and he was better” he answered for her “why?”

“Because they can help him then” She answered him and when this made sense to him he watched as she spoke over the handset for a few minutes before starting off again.

When they reached his farm the bus driver pulled up behind the cop car parked in the drive. The door was barely open before his mother, almost hysterical with tears, was inside and had him in her arms as she babbled his name over and over again. His father was slower to come in-as if afraid of his reaction to his presence-but his eyes were also full of tears. He seemed to be fighting the urge to pull them both into his arms.

Between her sobs he told them what he had told the people on the bus and then solemnly handed the note over that Loel had told him was for them. His father read if first slowly before solemnly handing it to his mother with “I’m so sorry Rick.” His mother read it, pulled him back into her arms with “that poor guy” and handing it too the cop behind them.

The man quickly glanced it over, copied something down in his notebook and turned to his fellow cops with barked orders. He then left the bus, some men leading the passengers aside to take statements as well as the driver while his mother and father clutched his hands while a friendly white haired woman examined him and Peter-who he refused to let go of even though the child had calmed down-and then another cop, a female, lead him aside to ask him question after question about what had happened. Once she was satisfied with his answers-or as satisfied as she could get-the woman left him to fall into an exhausted doze on the lounge.

When he awoke he was in his bed in his room, on his side and curled around Peter who slept also. His mother sat on the desk chair beside the bed, dozing, her face etched with concern and fear for him, lines of deep worry and emotion. And for that reason only he reached out to wake her, suffering through renewed crying and fierce embraces before she calmed enough for him to soothe her and assure her he was fine now.

However he told no one the full truth or the real story, convincing himself that Loel would come for the two of them once he was safe and they could go back to the way they were before. He wouldn’t allow them-ANYONE-to touch him, not just because touch meant comfort; love and understanding but because somewhere deep down he knew this wasn’t all some nightmare, if they touched him it meant this was all real. Touch meant this was all here-everything had really happened-that man had betrayed his trust and innocence and hurt him in that bad way and Loel was gone-probably hiding or worse-a captive of his sister.

The next memory coming to him was just after his mother’s murder, the actual event too painful to share.

It took at least ten minutes of painfully dragging himself along the hallway before he found someone. He found his father in Peter’s room, clutching the brokenly sobbing boy in his arms. Gasping in pain he made it into the doorway with a pained moan of “father.” With his head down he heard his father cry his name in shock, looking up to see he had stood, leaving Peter on the bed by himself. However something in his face must have held him back. With a moan he managed to ask, “father where is mom? I tried your room but she not there and I am worried about her.”

“Oh god Rick” his fathers eyes were watering “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”

Reality finally and utterly crashed in on him. All he remembered saying was “No, it is not true!” as he collapsed to his knees, his mind screaming at him “NOT REAL! NOT REAL! NOT REAL! NOT REAL! NOT REAL!!”

It was too much for him-everything at once-he WAS sexually assaulted, Loel DID rescue him, Loel WAS tortured by his sister, he WAS back in Johnathon’s time where he nearly lost both the sorcerer and warrior’s son himself as well as possessed by the soul of Peter’s dead father for a time. And worse of all Zimmer and all his deeds WERE real.

It all piled in on him in a flood and the last thing he remembered hearing was his father crying “Oh god Rick-hold on-don’t give in, stay with us please, I can’t loose you too” before the blackness took him away.

Inside his mind he stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down and contemplating jumping-even just to see what was down there. He was about to actually do so when a voice boomed “STOP!” and when he hesitated there was a flash of light and a familiar figure appeared behind him.

“Hello Johnathon” he said softly, calm and not surprised in the least, “why are you here, you do not belong here.”

“And you do?” the sorcerer questioned to which he answered with a short laugh “of course! I should have been here long ago. But you cannot cheat fate without making others suffer for it. I have lived long past my allotted time and now it ends.” He stepped closer to the edge but the sorcerer called out urgently “no Young One, wait a minute!”

“You cannot stop me Chelerick” he used the sorcerer’s real name to punctuate his seriousness “this is my mind and my decision. You are merely a guest here.”

“Granted you are right Young One” the sorcerer said soothingly “give me five minutes to convince you otherwise, please. Five minutes for the five years of unconditional friendship and kinship I gave you-five minutes for your father’s heart and love.”

“I am far older than you think,” he said, but he hesitated again “how else do you think I knew you and Santon from the start?” Somehow on the brink of this drop he was closer to the memories and feelings of his previous ‘incarnation’ then any other time in his short sixteen years-so close he could reach out and touch them.

“Granted again my friend” he said softly, “but give me five minutes and if you are not convinced before then I shall not attempt to stop you-in fact I shall leave you alone to your deed.”

“How do you know this is not my destiny now and you are interfering?”

“As you said, you should have been here long ago but you were not. Second your family curse. Your father is too old for it to be him and he will never remarry or even look at another woman so YOU are the last of your line.”

“You would rather I live now to die from it later on?”

“Yes” The sorcerer spoke bluntly, “Do you not see Richard? That is why fate brought us together. I have power that would have killed ME if not for my training, just like what would happen to you. But we are together now-I can use that training to save YOUR life.”

“And if you die or are killed before that day?” he was calm-even about that.

“I would not-will not. You see Richard I have been here as well, only I did not jump, I fell. It was when I almost died from Youman’s attack and the only thing that kept me from the bottom was the Guardian Of The Way and YOU. I know from that that you and I are destined to live a long, long time-in fact longer than humanly possible. What that means is you and I will outlive our families-perhaps even our descendants.”

“Hum” he didn’t speak, only made the sound as he turned back to the gully again. He didn’t know why but he felt the same, or maybe Johnathon was making him feel that way. Either way it didn’t matter now. The sorcerer tried something else “your grief and guilt for what happened to your mother is affecting your decision, Young One, making you feel you do not disserve to live for what you felt you caused.”

“That will not work, sorcerer. My mind is clear of such things, it is not effect on the truth of my future and my future is over.” So the man tried another angle, pleading “you can not leave us all, Richard-what about your father? He cannot go on without you after loosing Dale. Surely you feel it? What about Paul and Peter? Even my own son needs you.”

“Paul and Andrew have their families-father will have revenge and finding a way to end our family curse-Peter will have father and your family, he and Andrew have grown up as brothers.”

“What about Cathrine? Surely you have noticed she is in love with you. I know you are beginning to feel the same-do not deny what you know is true.”

“She will find another who’ll give her all the love and attention she disserves, that I never can or will.”

“You really think she cares that little for you that if you die she would find another? True love-real love can only exist between two beings-there is no other for either. You really think Cathrine is not YOUR true love? Everyone knows hers is true. So why do you deny yours is also? Are you afraid to live up to her affections?”

He didn’t answer this in any way so the sorcerer tried one last more desperate angle “what about Loel? How will you save and rescue him if you are dead and buried?”

Of course! The vow he had made as a child about Loel! How could he have forgotten it! Anger and shock at himself flooded through him. However Johnathon took his stunned stillness as being ignored. He frowned thoughtfully at him before his gold eyes widened nearly all the way “can it be that you have only lived this long to await his return? Is it possible your entire reason to exist is to join him in his life?”

“Yes” he said calmly “I was to join him when he returns to me as his kind and we would be together as we used to be-as we are meant to be.”

“And since he has not done so you have given up, you cannot live your life for only one person Young One.” He looked back and frowned at the other, “You are one to talk, Johnathon. You live only for your wife and son and you criticize me.”

“I do not just live for my family now, Richard, you should know that by now.”

“Of course, you live to be a hero and save lives, how could I forget.” He sighed deeply, “your five minutes are gone, Johnathon, it is time for you to go now.”

“Truly?” the sorcerer looked at him, gold cat-eyes pleading, “nothing I can say will bring you back to us?” Without looking back he said firmly “No, now just go.”

“After all my years of friendship you would…” he started to say but he interrupted him impatiently “Do not even try it for it will not work. Just go.”

He sensed the sorcerer hesitate, reluctant and thinking desperately for a way before it finally sank in and he said with such sorrow in his voice “goodbye then my friend.” The such raw feeling in his voice almost made him call him back but he stopped himself-taking it as another attempt to get him-a kind of trick. Then the sorcerer was gone and he was alone again with his memories and decision.

He had just decided to jump again when another voice stopped him “NO RICK! HOW COULD YOU EVER THINK OF THAT! HOW COULD YOU EVER BETRAY ME LIKE THAT AFTER ALL I DID FOR YOU! ALL I DID TO KEEP YOU ALIVE!”

At first he thought that Johnathon or one of the others was trying to stop him again, but the young male familiar voice wasn’t one of them, the old trauma and pain just wasn’t in any of them. When he spun to see it he found a ghost of a figure standing a fare distance behind him-see through and pale but still there-hands clutched around his stomach in pain.

“Loel!” joy, excitement and years of repressed emotions spilt over until suspicion intruded “How can you be here?”

“After what that man did to you, you were torn inside and out so badly you would not have made it long enough for the hospital. I was forced to give you some of my blood-not enough to change you but enough to boost your own body in its healing. That was why I cared for you myself, I could not afford for the humans to find the traces of me inside you. That is why you can go into a kind of deep sleep and increase your healing past the normal human level, the remainders of my blood inside you-it also connects us in some ways.”

This made sense to him and he moved, joy filling him, towards the other but he raised one hand “do not!” He paused, confused and then took a few steps forward “what is wrong?” That’s when he saw the outstretched hand and the red stain “Loel?”

“Do not touch me, if you do SHE will know I am here with you.” He started to hunch over slowly, hands clenched around his stomach, pain increasing on his face and the side of his neck started to bleed. His skin started to lighten more and go gray as he watched. “Please Loel I want to help you, tell me how!” he pleaded with him, scared by what was happening to him and wanting to help but also wanting to keep him from becoming worked up in his state.

“I know what you intend to do, Rick, I could feel your decision even through the torture Gabrelle was putting me through” he suddenly let out a long gasp and collapsed to his left knee and right hand. “Please Loel!” tears of helplessness burned his eyes and pain clogged his throat “tell me how to help you!”

“You can not help me” he gasped weakly “But there are others you can more disserving.”
“No!” he gasped in horror “Loel I have to help YOU!”

“You can not Rick, my existence is not worth all those others you could save. You can save my soul by helping others-helping me make up for all those deaths Gabrelle put on my conscious. Do you not understand, this is your destiny, to be the savior of the world.”

“I do not want to save the world, only you,” he sobbed, eyes streaming with anxiety when the other shook in agony.

“I know you do” his head went to the other side as if forced and that side began to bleed as well “but you can not and I do not want you too.” He gasped then shuddered in pain again “I want you to live your own life with those you are afraid to love, lead the life I never could so I know that at least somewhere YOU are happy-even if I am not.” As he watched Loel collapsed fully onto the ground “please Rick, Please, promise me.”

“I can not!” he sobbed, collapsing to his knees beside him.

“Please, if you care for me at all you will do as I ask,” his voice was fading “ you do not see this is your destiny because you care too much for me. I knew from the moment I found you. Please-if you care for me you will promise to live the life I can not have.”

“But what about you!” he protested pain raking his body he gasped out “Gabrelle will not kill me or she would not have a toy anymore and no matter how perverse she still loves me. Please go, promise me you will never give up.”

“I….” His will was breaking. The other gasped, back arching in agony as he gasped “PROMISE! Please Rick, promise me!”

“I promise!” he was full out sobbing brokenly now “I promise I will live and save other lives! But I also promise that once I inherit the power of our line I will destroy Gabrelle’s evil and free you forever.” He knew if he had of said ‘I will destroy Gabrelle’, Loel would react to it so he told a little white lie.

“Thank you Richard” he whispered, relaxing as his body started to become transparent. It was then Rick realized in panic-“wait! I do not know how to get back!”

“Just will it, wish to be back in your body and you will be so! It is simple!” He protested this with a frown of fear “but if that was true I would have been back there long ago! Loel, I can not get there without you help! Loel…!” But the other was gone.

Taking a deep steadying breath to regain control of his fear and panic he closed his eyes and concentrated, taking a gamble on an idea. “Johnathon” he whispered softly “Chelerick Slighthand hear me. You and I have been in each other’s minds and we know each others soul, I know you can hear me.” There was a long silence then the sorcerer’s voice came back to him, soft but guarded “what is it you wish of me?”

“I have decided you were right all along, I need you to pull me back-I have been here for too long and can no get back by myself.” For the first time since finding the four he heard suspicion in the man’s voice, he did NOT believe him “what made you change your mind? If it is revenge that will get you nowhere. Revenge will make your life meaningless once achieved…”

“I assure you it is not revenge” he interrupted, getting desperate, somehow knowing the option to leave willingly was rapidly fading “and if you do not hurry you will never have the chance to find out, will you.” There was another pause and then he came back with “are you sure, Richard? If I pull you back you will not change your mind again? I do not want you to hate me for it.”

“I would not, hurry, or we will not have the chance to ever know!”

There was another brief silence and just when he was about to call for him impatiently again he felt powerful magic reaching out. He stood silent and still, waiting for it to take him away and not trying to fight in the least as it swept his mental and spirit body up and pulled him along at a dizzying speed.

There was a flash of light that blinded him for long seconds and then he was thrust into something heavy and cumbersome, something that-once reconnected to him-blinded him with such pain for just a second he wanted to go back. But unlike before he now knew more about himself.

Utilizing Loel’s blood inside him he sent himself into a deep healing sleep where he was partly aware and able to monitor his own body’s slow recuperation. He only awoke for food and liquids for more energy to continue and even then he was vacant and emotionless-as if in shock. This obviously worried everyone, especially Peter who spent most of his time, day AND night, curled up in his ‘Big Brother’s’ arms-afraid to leave him alone or be left alone.

Just after being brought back he awoke to find Johnathon and Gwin in his room, deep in conversation about him. While Johnathon was in doubt about him and his state, Gwin showed her complete faith in him. Johnathon was saying softly “I wish I knew what made him change his mind. You have not known Richard as long as I have my love but when he sets his mind to do or not do something NO ONE can change it, even Dale. What could make him change it in less than a minute?”

“Have faith in him as I do, my heart” Gwin said, taking her husband into her arms with “I may not have known him as long as you but I know his heart and soul are true and he shall always do the right thing.”

Ever since Gwin and Johnathon had been reunited in their trip back in time he had treated the woman as ‘wife of my kindred soul, but no interest to my life’. However her comments made him appreciate her more than ever before. Here was someone who didn’t need stupid assurances, she accepted him as he is and did. He would have thought that after all this time and after being in the same situation that Johnathon would have been the one to understand him, but obviously not. It seemed that his wife was the one-despite their kindred soul.

In gratitude for her faith he decided to, once he was healed enough to come out and talk, it would be to Peter and her only. In fact he decided that the two would have a long talk and really get to know each other. However as he healed he knew something else was wrong with himself. When he thought about his mother a black empty void was all he could feel, even when he remembered how she died and he knew that wasn’t right, he should be feeling SOMETHING.

Two days after his ‘return’ he awoke to a familiar small comforting presence. When he opened his eyes he was shocked and startled to find a tiny figure seated on the pillow beside his head, brightly colored wings moving slightly as the feminine face peered at him in concern and thoughtfulness.

For some reason even though he had previously thought it all was a fantasy this being, the Ossla, made it all worthwhile being real. Whenever she was with him life seemed worthwhile. She made him feel good about himself-so much so she was the only one he had ever told EVERYTHING too, every little thought, deed and worry.

She was a creature of magic but she was his truest friend.

He was glad beyond words to see her, exclaiming her name before his hand went out to her-the less bandaged one. With a flutter of wings she alighted on his palm, sitting down comfortably with his knuckles as a backrest. She then asked him in her strange language what had happened-she had sensed his emotions in her time and land and it had pulled her to him.

“I am sorry about that Rathir, a lot has happened to me since I last saw you” and he told her everything, every detail and emotion, even Loel convincing him to come back and in the end he found himself sobbing opening to her. Peter awoke at this, took one look at the two and crawled into his arms, crying openly as he clutched him tight and while the fairy-like creature landed on the pillow, little arms hugging his face-left cheek really-ignoring the endless tears soaking the pillow under and around her, little head pressed to him in comfort and support.

Dimly he heard his father and Johnathon in the doorway, the sorcerer telling the other man to leave them for now, Rathir would help him.

Hours after Rathir had left his father returned to find Peter asleep and he was quietly sobbing, as if trying not to wake him. “Oh Rick” he heard, then he felt himself being pulled into his arms. Despite the fact he had always distanced himself from him he decided there and then his father was more important to him than himself-they all were. Peter and Andrew especially.

As he healed and got to know Gwin at last he discovered one problem Loel’s blood didn’t seem to be able to help. His right hand-fingers, knuckles and wrist all broken by Zimmer’s torture-wouldn’t knit properly. He could flex and bend-use it like normal-but he couldn’t lift with it, it seemed to have no strength at all.

Even though physiotherapy helped strengthen it so he could still write or open doors or even type he seemed to find it easier to use the left for everything else.

Everything was going dim for Paul, even the memories and before he could speak, to tell him what he was feeling and how he now knew and loved Loel as well and wanted to save and protect him he was out like a light.

* * *
“You mean Rick told you what happened when he was nine?”

“Not exactly. I didn’t just SEE or HEAR it, or about it-I FELT it as if I was him. Every minute, every pain and terror of what that sicko did to him, all of it and for how long he went through it.”

“What do you mean, how long? Lance told us…”

“That he was gone barely hours-no even the afternoon-I know. I don’t know why he told us that but I get the feeling from his memories it was longer than days or weeks.” At this they were aghast, “months! He was physically and sexually abused for months!”

Paul nodded at his parents “not counting how long it took before he healed and finally went back to Lance and Dale. No wonder his grip on reality was so weak for so long.” He explained the reason for the fear of touch, the thing it represented. “And to have it all snap back like that, all because of his mother’s death and almost loosing you in the past” his mother shook her head sadly “no wonder he was so close to the edge of insanity before.”

“I had wondered the reason for his return” Johnathon said softly “if he HAD seen Loel who begged him to return to the waking world for both their souls-he would wish to please him.”

“Are you saying he’s alive only to be with Loel in the future?” they asked him and the sorcerer shrugged “he can not rescue him from the constant threat and danger of his evil sister if he is dead, can he?”

“Are you saying Rick will make him an Idar to protect him?”

“No, you don’t understand. Loel is a vampire, Rick will just get him accepted into the Idars so they-or more importantly HIM-can protect him from her. I doubt his sister will do anything to expose herself to them.”

“I got the feeling from Loel she wasn’t that smart.”
“Well she’ll learn soon enough, pain can be a great teacher.”
“It still doesn’t answer why Lance lied to us about how long and what that man did to him.”

“Because Rick told me too” said a voice from the doorway “or rather he begged me to not tell you all the full extent of his trauma. He has this overwhelming fear you guys will loose respect in him and go back to your own time if you knew he had been anything other than strong, that he had once been that vulnerable, that week.” Lance’s face creased into a frown “I keep telling him that you all wouldn’t do that, that you would understand but he didn’t want to risk it, so I promised, Dale and I promised.”

This had always got them. Why did Lance do so much, sacrifice so much of himself for his son, even before loosing Dale. He had been like this as long as each of the group had known them. “You don’t understand and I think you never will what Richard did for us, Dale and I. Dale was barren, infertile but Rick choose us, Dale and I, he choose US to be his parents before he was even born,” then he was gone.

“My god, I knew it was familiar, now everything falls into place! It makes sense!” they turned at Payton’s excited exclamation with a frown of “what are you talking about?”

Payton looked at his fiancée “remember just before that center we did a course. What was it?” and for a few long seconds Anna looked vacant then it suddenly hit her and she looked back at him, a smile starting “indigo child, you’re right!”

“Indigo child, what are you talking about?” the rest of the group was confused. To that Payton answered “we did a course once on psychic children and how to recognize them. There was one in the group called indigo. They are highly sensitive-either physically as in sensitive skin, sight and hearing or emotionally. They have been described as old souls and many have claimed to have chosen their own parents before birth. Indigos are completely honest, they have been known to see aura’s and spirits, more to the point angels-supposedly their guardians and have even been documented talking to them.”

Alex frowned “but can he see auras as well as angels or spirits? I mean what happened when you guys were possessed goes for that but what if seeing auras is why Dale saw good and evil in those she met? I mean she could tell that sort of thing even though she didn’t know the person.”

“It’s possible I guess but I think it’s more to do with her purity and innocence. She didn’t and couldn’t believe there was such evil in the world. I mean look what happened with Zimmer. Even though Tommas warned us she refused to believe there was no goodness in him.” They agreed to this and Paul told them about Tommas and how he used his own life and strength to sustain him in the Ice Palace, the way they had communicated during that time and all that had happened during.