Characters beloved creations of James L. Parriot. No copyright violation intended.

In response to a long discussion on the Main List regarding the end - "Last Knight" - would he or wouldn't he?

An Ending
by elfin

Nick tensed, waiting for his father to comply to his wishes. And as he waited, a thought flashed through his mind; why should he? Why should he now start to do as I ask?

The thought was wiped clear from his brain, along with everything else, as his world erupted in sudden agony. It was a while before he could speak. With every passing moment his head pounded in bright, clear pain. He lay on the floor where he had slumped, lying in a pool of his own blood that he could taste as it ran to his lips. After several attempts he found that he could open one eye, barely, and he looked up to see LaCroix knelt beside him, head bowed, silent tears sliding unheeded over his cheeks.

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but no words were forthcoming. He could not form a coherent thought, and whenever he tried to the crippling panic of being unable sent him spiralling further into the hysteria he was now quickly reaching. He tired to move, but he could not longer feel anything but the torturous agony like a halo over him. His body did not respond, not by movement nor reply.

It took time for LaCroix to block the pain resonating from Nicholas' side of their bond. Only then could he bare to raise his head and to look at the devastation before him. The force of the impact had crushed the upper left hand side of Nick's skull, and although LaCroix knew he had not caused any direct damage to his son's brain, he imagined it had been close. The immense anger that had caused him to do such a thing to the child he loved above all others had dissipated, leaving only a sadness and a sorrow heightened by the results of his attack.
With shaking hands he reached out, only to hesitate. His vision cleared and he knew Nicholas really was in a bad way. He was fading out to unconsciousness, not a natural state for a vampire. Trembling, LaCroix pushed himself to his feet and started for the kitchen area, fumbling at the fridge door, the urgency growing with every moment that passed. Within seconds he was back at his son's side, bottles of blood in his arms which he allowed to roll to the floor. Taking one, he uncorked it and set it to one side, moving closer now to Nicholas' prone form, kneeling in the growing pool of crimson surrounding his child's head.

"Nicholas," he cursed his voice, rough with emotion, choked with tears. "Nicholas, please..." Very carefully, he placed his left hand to the back of Nick's blood-soaked head and cradled it as he rolled his child over onto his back, revealing to his own view the massive injury he had inflicted. Tipping the young vampire's head forward, LaCroix grabbed at the open bottle and brought it to the pale lips, tilting it in order that the blood should flow into Nick's mouth. There was no response from Nick himself, but after a quarter of the bottle had been poured down the lifeless throat, LaCroix could see a visible improvement in the wound at the side of Nick's head.

the light was brighter this time, and the guide was simply a voice, angelic, almost like nat's, nick mused. he tried to walk to the light, not really considering his actions, simply performing them as a puppet might. he could hear the voice - nat's voice - calling to him, coaxing him. he smiled. and then his smile faded and he stopped walking. nat's calls became more insistent now, angry almost, and he hesitated, unsure now. there was something new, a presence somewhere behind him, one that was not calling to him, was simply there. nick turned, wondering what else there was. what had he forgotten? he felt wet tears on his face when he saw lacroix standing behind him, quite a distance away, silent, almost defeated. nick tried to call out to him and when there was no response, he held out a hand, wanting lacroix to come nearer. his father did not move. nat's calls were angry now, insisting, commanding that he should walk into the light; the light he now had his back almost completely turned to. frustrated and confused, he shook his head, trying to ignore the calls, beckoning to the other. when lacroix still did not come any closer, nicholas started to walk, toward his father, away from the light, away from the furious calls of the voice. and when he reached the place where lacroix was standing, the other held up his own hand, and without hesitation, nicholas debrabant took it.

Nick choked violently, spluttering as he coughed blood up from down his throat. Immediately LaCroix threw the bottle down and bit savagely into his own wrist moments before his son took it in an iron grip and sank his fangs deep into the flesh. LaCroix reached his other arm around Nicholas, pulling him up then letting them both fall back against the coffee table. For some time, there was no human in the creature that had fastened itself to LaCroix's wrist, there was just a Hunger. Nicholas regained his control slowly, and as he did so, he slowed his drinking, only dimly aware that he was rapidly draining the one from whom he was drinking. Seconds passed like hours before Nick realized that LaCroix was going to allow himself to be completely drained. In horror, he pulled out, turning his golden eyes on his father. A red-rimmed, ice blue gaze met him, and Nick's own tears started instantly.
The pain in his head with nothing compared to the agony that was shattering his heart. Knowing, but needing to see, he looked about and caught sight of Nat's body. The wrenching sobs tore at him and he drew his arms around his head, curling in on himself as he released the hurricane of emotions from within his soul. When he did finally come back into himself, when he finally looked up, he looked into the eyes of his father who was still sitting close, a silent strength that Nick knew would always be there for him.

LaCroix waited for Nick to cry himself out, and to pull himself together enough to sit up, and only then did he speak.
"You knew when you asked me to kill you that I could not. As much as I love you, more than anything else on this forsaken earth, I am selfish in my love and I have always been. I cannot bare the thought of eternity without you. I cannot face Forever alone. However much you hate me, however much you cannot forgive me for this final act of cowardice, I would only ever regret ending your life. I hope some day you will find it in your heart to forgive me. But Nicholas, if I truly am your closest friend, then surely I am the one you will always return to."

Nick gazed on the face of his father for a long time. Without speaking, he reached up and gingerly touched the side of his head LaCroix had so kindly battered until it had caved in. The wound was almost completely healed, if a little raw and still a touch painful. He took LaCroix's hands in both of his own and squeezed them gently. "I guess it is time to move on." LaCroix nodded, unwilling to show his soul-deep relief at hearing those words. "Somewhere quiet, for now, somewhere away from... mortals." Again, the elder nodded.

Nick looked around him with the barest of smiles. "My last night in Toronto. I hadn't really imagined it would work out this way."
With a gentle sigh, LaCroix shook his head. "There was no other way it could have worked out, mon fils. No other way."

fin
elfin