These characters belong to others - I'm just letting them play
Full Circle
by elfin
LaCroix woke suddenly. Something was wrong, something was... missing.
His mind had fallen silent, eerily so. Panicked, he searched, mentally
calling out for the one who should have been there with him, in the recesses
of his consciousness. But although he could find others, could hear
the thoughts and emotions of all of his children, his son - his beloved -
was gone.
"Nicholas...." He closed his eyes. "Nicholas, no... please."
Yet even at that moment he knew it to be true; there had been no pain, no
fear, no injury to his dearest son. Nicholas was not dead, he had found
a way back.
~~ 5 years later ~~
Nat had known. He had kept himself in shape these past years, but
recently he had been working harder, ensuring that his body was at its best.
He had become mortal, human, and had since known every ailment that it was
possible to catch with a practically non-functioning immune system.
He had fought them all with the determination he had shown in his immortal
life.
But now.... He had realized a while ago that whilst standing in
the sun was worth a thousand sacrifices, it was not worth dying for.
A year ago, a bullet had punctured his lung and the attacker had left
him for dead. Someone had been there, had rushed him to the hospital
and saved his life. At the time, no one had known who had saved him.
Except Nick.
He had recognised the slight breath on his face as he had been lifted
into the sky, he had recognised the oh-so gentle touch of the man who had
scooped him out of the rubbish and handled him as if he were he most precious
thing in the world. He had known his immortal father.
LaCroix was still giving him the eternal protection he had always promised,
even now, even after the ungrateful child had abandoned his vampiric existence
and returned to the life he had yearned for for so long. Too long.
Mortality was a way of life, but only that. And Nick knew far too well
that it was not the only way of life.
~
Nicholas pulled the Caddy up in front of the large house on the outskirts
of Vancouver. It had taken months to find this address, to wrench it
out of Janette, who had been sworn to silence. But she had finally
given up after her days and nights had been plagued by her ex-lover, her ex-brother.
He looked at the front door as he stood in front of it. He had no
idea whether or not anyone was home. He missed that one ability as
he missed most of them. Yet he missed most the flowing of thoughts
and sensations often not his own, missed the gentle cradling of his mind
by a presence stronger and ever-so protective.
He had over the past years awoken at night, tears running over his cheeks,
sometimes pulling at the covers to keep him warm, sometimes crying out for
the arms of one who could no longer be here for him. He had grown to
resent everything that made him mortal, all those that pulled at him, kept
him in an existence he had hated almost from the start. He could only
hope that the one he had been running from for so long, the one whose steel
heart he had shattered, could look upon him with some small measure of forgiveness.
Nick swallowed back on the threatening tears; how could he have been so
wrong? Why could he not have just accepted what and who he was and
damn the consequences? Why, for once, had he not thought this one through?
With a shaking hand he swiped at his eyes, raising the other and knocking
once on the dark wood of the door. There was no answer, no one there.
He knew that now; the house was dark, almost as if no one lived here anymore.
A cold fist clamped around his heart; was that why Janette had finally given
him the address he had long begged her for? Had they tricked him?
Where they now eluding him as he had eluded them for centuries?
Panic flooded through him, making it difficult to pull in a single breath.
He backed up, taking several steps, tears flowing freely now. Turning
he began stumbling towards his car, grabbing for it to support himself as
the deep sobs crashed through him and he poured his soul out on to the body
of his beloved Cadillac.
"Nicholas?" There was more affection in that one word than he could
ever remember hearing in his master's voice.
Nick's heart missed a beat and he choked. Turning towards the voice,
struggling to pull air into his lungs, he looked up. LaCroix's arms
were already reaching out for him, offering support and comfort. Nick
flung himself at the taller man, curling his fingers into the lapels of the
fitted jacket, burying his face in the fine silk shirt as those strong arms
wrapped around him.
The man who had once been his cruel master and adoring father was once
again holding him, hugging him, rocking him gently. He felt hushed
words whispered softly into his hair, felt light, soothing caresses on his
back and arms, fingers stroking through his golden locks.
Five years of depression and loneliness, despite all the love that Nat
had tried to provide him with, began their exorcism from his soul.
This was were he belonged, this was where he had always belonged. He
had to make LaCroix see that, had to make him understand that even though
he had run for all those years, even though he had cut him so very deeply,
even though he had turned his back on all the love his father had to offer
him, despised what he had become, what LaCroix had made him, he wanted to
come back.
Somehow, Nick moved back out of the embrace he had longed for and looked
up into LaCroix's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but LaCroix shook
his head, brushing his fingers over Nick's hair and lips. Nick felt
the crushing refusal clamp down on his heart, his final sob was a keening
moan of denial, and then he turned, meaning to flee, to take his car and
end his whole worthless life.
LaCroix's sudden, firm grip on his shoulder held him, refusing to let
him go. Nick tried to jerk away, protesting weakly, but he was held
still, and when he looked up into LaCroix's face, he saw nothing there but
sorrow and love.
"I meant," he heard the other say softly, "you don't have to say anything.
You just have to ask."
Nick stopped fighting for his freedom. He stopped moving altogether.
For a moment he forgot how to breathe. "I... after everything I've
done...." His voice cracked, leaving only a rough whisper.
"But Nicholas, having you as my son, even when you are fighting me, even
when you are searching for a way to leave me, is better than not having you
at all."
Nick drew in a shuddering breath. "Can we go back?" Nicholas
knew it was an almost impossible request. It was like asking for the
world.
But LaCroix had always offered him the world. "Yes."
A heartbeat, faster than LaCroix had ever heard in fear or passion, rang
in their ears as they watched one another. And Nicholas asked for the
rest. "Then take me back. Please."
LaCroix gestured to the path up to the front door, walking closely behind
Nicholas, quite unable to believe that this was all real. Inside, the
house was dark and cool, with stone tiled floors and wooden stairs.
Boxes were strewn through large rooms, and it was obvious to Nick that his
father had only just moved here. Where had he been before? Where
had he been for the five years Nicholas had spent living and breathing in
the daylight hours?
The Elder disappeared into the kitchen, at the end of the long hall, and
reappeared a few moments later carrying two green glass bottles that were
wonderfully familiar to Nicholas. Had he remained at the Raven all
that time? Nick had only been back once or twice since finding his mortality,
and so much unhappiness.
"Are you sure about this, Nicholas? You..."
LaCroix hesitated, not really wanting to talk the young man out of his
decision; he had been so lonely, so afraid of eternity now his beloved son
was not with him, at least in mind, at least in spirit. He had not realized
how long he had spent chasing Nicholas around the globe until the child had
thwarted him, this time, he had believed eventually, for good. Having
him here, now, asking to be taken back, was more than the Elder had ever
dreamed of. He focused on the angelic face of the one he loved above
all and everything. And that face was smiling with a gentle understanding.
"I don't believe that you could talk me out of this decision, LaCroix."
Nick sniffed quietly. "You know how stubborn I have always been."
LaCroix wanted to laugh with joy, yet somehow he managed to retain the
dignity of the occasion. "Then... let us retreat to the bedroom and
do this in some comfort."
~
LaCroix stroked his dear Nicholas' pale face and watched the life - his
life - flowing back through his son's veins. As he had sunk his teeth
once more into that sweet flesh, he had mentally promised his new-born son
that this time around, he would be a better father.
He drained Nick of all but the last of his mortal blood, leaving his heart
straining and failing. A moment later, he lay down, puling Nicholas
close to him, settling the blond head against his shoulder and reaching up
to draw blood from his own throat. He waited, knowing this would be
the longest wait of his long existence, hoping once more his Nicholas would
return to him.
Across the sands, Nick gazed at the doorway, seeing the familiar form
of his sire standing as the guide.
"Once more you come to us as a mortal, Nicholas." Nick smiled gently,
and nodded. "Your debt has not been repaid, yet I sense... you are
not here for forgiveness." He said nothing. "Only one person can
make this choice, Nicholas. You. If you make it a second time,
you may go on atoning for your sins, you may still redeem your soul.
It is your choice, Nicholas. It always has been." And then Nick
imagined he saw a smile tilt that familiar face. "You do not need prompting
this time. You know the drill better than most."
Nick smiled, and turned once again away from the light.
LaCroix howled in delight as Nick attached himself to his father's neck
and drank deeply, basking in the power and heat that flooded his cold body,
drawing in the rush and sating his hunger as he had the first time he had
been born to this life.
LaCroix clumsily reached for one of the bottles that he had placed on
the floor and drank it down. Only then did he turn to wrap his new-born
son in his protective embrace and bite very gently into Nicholas' throat.
He took none but a few scant drops - Nicholas needed to take, not to give
at this time - but the little he tasted sang with happiness and joy that
smashed open the icy cage around his heart.
This time, at his rebirth, it was LaCroix's mouth that Nick dove for as
the vampiric lust overtook him. There was more than brutal desire
in their joining, more than LaCroix's years of waiting, more than Nick's
long-buried restraint rearing its exultant head once more; there was a love
that flowed between them, a love evident in LaCroix's physical taking of
his new son.
They wrapped themselves in one another, their bodies and thoughts mingling,
making it impossible to tell where one vampire ended and the other began.
When the sun started to rise, they slept each still very much a part of the
other, as it had always been.
~
LaCroix woke and stretched. The cool body snuggled beside him and
over him reminded him of the night's events. He had not believed his
own eyes when he had seen Nicholas fleeing from his new Vancouver home.
He had not believed in any of it; the desperation with which Nicholas had
clung to him, the tears, the request....
Nothing had been real until he had sunk his fangs into Nicholas' gladly
offered neck and had exalted in the honey blood hitting the roof of his
mouth. Then, and only then, had he dared to believe that his son was
once again lying in his arms.
Nick stirred, shifting himself with the return of the feline grace of
a vampire. He opened his eyes and smiled peacefully at his father,
dropping his head back to the smooth chest that had been his pillow.
"Nicholas...." LaCroix was not sure that Nick would not rise and
immediately instigate their old way; the fights and arguments, the bickering
that had kept them apart for centuries. Yet he had yearned for just
that for five years, ad that was something he was more than willing to accept.
But Nick made no move to leave. In fact, he snuggled closer, pushing
into his father's warmth.
"I feel... alive." He stated happily. "I can sense you in
my mind. I've been alone for so long...."
"I know, Nicholas." LaCroix tightened his arms, hugging his son
closer and tighter.
Nick murmured softly, "I think I've finally leant my lessons."
He watched his father's expression change slightly, and frowned. "What
is it, Lucien?"
"I'm sorry.... I keep waiting for the regrets, the recriminations....
I know that it is inevitable that you will leave me again, and I accept that.
But waiting for it to happen, waiting for the animosity during these perfect
times of bliss is very difficult."
Nick lifted his head, and then moved to sit up, to draw the covers around
him while staying close to his father.
"LaCroix, you don't understand. For centuries I hated what I was.
I hated you for making me into what I was. I blamed you for everything.
But I always loved you, in my..." he smiled slightly, "in my own, odd way."
LaCroix reached up and touched his son's beautiful face. "From the
first moment that I woke up as a mortal once more, I hated it." LaCroix's
eyes widened. "I hated the cold, the pain at every turn, and the silence...
Lucien, the silence in my mind.... I felt I was flailing for you, for
some support that had been there for so long it had become part of me, part
of who I was. For five years I've thought about precious little else
but the growing loneliness. This time, LaCroix, I knew exactly what
I was returning to. I want everything you can give me."
LaCroix shifted to sit up, to wrap himself around his distressed son.
He wanted desperately to tell Nicholas that he did not need to explain, that
a father's love needed no reasons. But he could feel Nick's need to
talk, to give him an explanation of sorts. He let his child talk.
"Every night and day that I lived as a vampire, I used those gifts.
I flew with the night air, I had my wounds healed because of what I was,
I had a perspective of knowledge of events and people. I took advantage
of these gifts and used them without a moment's thought. But of course,
they all went away when I became mortal again. I never thanked you,
for saving my life when I was shot."
"You don't need to thank me," LaCroix sounded completely sincere.
"I never stopped loving you, never stopped regarding you as my unwilling
son."
"Until now." Nicholas leaned into his father's embrace, resting
his forehead against the other's.
"Until now, Nicholas?"
"Not unwilling any longer. Through my own free will, I have returned
to your side. Just don't leave me any time soon."
LaCroix pulled Nick to him, holding tight. Maybe there still could
be a forever.
fin
elfin
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