Disclaimer - I don't own Dark Shadows or its characters.

A/N - This was just an idea I had while watching the early black & white Barnabas episodes, which I view for "Death's Embrace". The idea captured me and refused to let me go until I wrote this story. This is based on a "what if?". What if Barnabas had been able to destroy Maggie's personality and turn her into what he wanted. This is kind of dark. Please read & review!

In Memoriam

The sun's rays beat down on Joe Haskell and Carolyn Stoddard as they watched David Collins take pictures with his new camera. The warmth the sun provided was unusual for the time of year, and they'd decided to take advantage of it by having a picnic together on Collinwood's expansive lawn.

Joe turned to Carolyn and smiled, glad that they had become such good friends after everything that had happened between them. Time had brought changes, some for the better, some for the worse.

Carolyn was more mature now, something that never failed to surprise Joe. Her stormy relationship with the Tony Peterson had caused her to reevaluate herself and what she was looking for in her life. Joe had never thought he and Carolyn could be close after they had broken up, he hadn't expected it, but he'd found himself seeking her company and enjoying the time he spent with her. She never talked of resuming their relationship, and Joe wasn't sure if he wanted to go down that road again at the moment, but in the future….

Who knew what the future held?

Five years ago, he'd imagined his future would be with Maggie Evans. He and Maggie had been much better suited to each other than he and Carolyn had ever been, and he'd fallen in love with Maggie so easily. She'd been easy to love. Her smile, her laugh, they had always made him happy, made him feel at ease.

He missed her still. That was the one thing that he knew would never change. He would always miss her.

And he would always wonder what had happened to her.

Her kidnapping had occurred so suddenly, overwhelming Joe as much as it had her father, Sam Evans. He remembered the sleepless nights, the wondering, the waiting…. Every phone call sent his heart into a spin, every time he spoke with Sheriff Patterson his hope was chipped away piece by piece. Eventually there was nothing left but an empty place inside of him.

An empty place where Maggie had been and would never be again.

She had never been found. Patterson had kept with the search until he could no longer justify having his men scattered about Collinsport, scanning the small town again and again for a woman that was, in all probability, dead.

The day when he and Sam had been forced to come to terms with that fact was a day that Joe would never forget. The sound of Sam's sobs over his lost daughter still rang in his ears some nights when he closed his eyes to go to sleep. His own despair still haunted him on those same nights as he sat up in bed with the sheets clenched in his fists, thinking of Maggie. The guilt that he had been able to do nothing for her ate away at him for three years before he'd finally managed to overcome it.

His mind had assured him over and over again that she was dead, that there was no use for the guilt. He'd had no knowledge of where to look for her, or of the one that might have taken her. His heart, however, had clung desperately to the thought that she might have been alive somewhere, and that if he'd looked for her hard enough, he would have saved her from whatever cruel fate she had suffered.

Time had healed the wound, but a gaping scar was left in its wake.

"I was going to call you last night, then Victoria told me you were visiting Sam. How is he?"

Joe freed himself from his reverie and met Carolyn's concerned eyes.

"Not good. Dr. Woodard says he could go any time now. I plan on going back there tonight. Carolyn, I know we were going to spend the day together, but I'm afraid that if I don't go…."

Carolyn silenced him by placing her hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me, Joe, I understand."

Joe looked down at the blanket that Carolyn had spread out for them to sit on, studying its pattern and pretending that he was not about to fall apart all over again.

He'd grown close to Sam after Maggie's disappearance, and when the time came to acknowledge that Maggie was lost to them, he'd been by Sam's side. Sam hadn't wanted him there, not at first, but Joe knew that he'd grown to appreciate it just the same. They met for dinner in the Blue Whale and for breakfast a few times a week at the coffee shop, where they both imagined Maggie standing behind the counter.

"He's leaving before his time," Joe said quietly. "He should've taken better care of himself. I should've taken better care of him."

"Joe, it's not your fault he's dying. You know it isn't."

"I know," he murmured. "I just wish that I could do something to stop it."

"You can't stop it, but you can be there for him. And you will be there for him because that's the kind of man that you are. You were there for him at a time when he had no one else. You pushed away your own grief so that you could help him through his. I admire you, Joe. I really do. I'm not sure I could've done what you did."

"Thanks, Carolyn." He gave her as sincere of a smile as he could muster, and then directed the conversation to a lighter subject. "It's a shame I'll miss the reunion tonight. I heard your cousin's visiting. It's all over town."

"I can't believe it's happening." Carolyn's face lit up. "We haven't seen Barnabas in so long. He writes to us while he travels but it will be so good to see him again."

Joe had only met the Collins family's English cousin a few times. Barnabas Collins had been polite, if a little mysterious, and had seemed to settle in quickly on the Collins estate. Joe had been puzzled when he'd discovered one morning at the Blue Whale that Barnabas had left Collinsport. He hadn't been the only one surprised by it - Carolyn had said that she and her family were just as shocked by his sudden decision to leave as anyone and that he hadn't informed them that he was even considering the possibility of moving.

"Didn't you tell me that he got married?"

"Yes, to a woman he met in France. It sounded so romantic," Carolyn said with a sigh.

"Is she going to be with him?"

"Unfortunately, no. He said in his last letter that a relative of hers had taken ill and that she wouldn't be able to come with him because she wanted to remain with them. We were so disappointed. We've wanted to meet her since he first announced his marriage. When I see him tonight I'll have to tell him about Sam. I'm sure he would want to know."

Joe recalled the portrait of Collins that Sam had painted. Sam had spent a few nights working on it at the Old House about the same time that Maggie had started getting sick, right before she was taken.

He nodded in agreement. "He probably would."

Joe had come to hate the hospital. Though he knew it was childish of him to feel that way, he couldn't help it. Maggie had disappeared from one of its rooms, never to be seen again, and it happened under his nose. He'd been in the waiting area with Sam.

And now Sam was going to be taken from him, just like Maggie.

"He's fading fast, Joe," Dr. Woodard had told him as he'd led him to the last room in the hall. Sam's room. "I'll inform the nurse that you can stay with him for the rest of the night. No one will disturb you."

That had been three hours ago, and Joe was still sitting in the chair next to Sam's bed, watching as the older man slept. Sam was thin, emaciated. There were heavy lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked as if he had aged twenty years in the five that Maggie had been dead. He struggled to breathe with each breath he took, even in slumber.

The window had been open when Joe had entered the room, and he'd left it open. If he strained his ears, he could hear the peaceful sound of the ocean. He concentrated on that instead of Sam's labored breathing as the tears he fought to keep from releasing fell unchecked down his face.

Joe supposed that he should be happy for Sam. When Sam left this life, he would be reunited with Maggie. But that didn't make it any easier, watching someone he'd gotten so close to slowly leave him behind.

Sam's eyes fluttered open, and Joe hastily wiped his tears away with the back of his coat sleeve and put a smile on his face.

"Hey, Sam."

"Joe…."

Sam's voice sounded weak, but he looked happier than Joe had seen him look in five years.

"I saw her, Joe," Sam said. "I saw Maggie. She was standing by the window." He raised a trembling, fragile hand towards it as if he expected to find Maggie there. "She smiled at me. She was beautiful. Dressed all in white like an angel."

Joe felt his eyes begin to water again and he blinked harshly, swallowing hard to keep the sob that formed at the back of his throat from escaping. He reached for Sam's hand and clutched it tightly in his own.

"I'm sure she was, Sam. I'm sure she was."

Sam Evans died staring at that window, waiting to see a glimpse of his daughter again. Joe placed his friend's hand back on the bed, and carefully closed his lifeless eyes.

"Tell her that I still love her, will you, Sam?"

He leaned forward in his chair and put his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands and allowing the sob to break free.

He stayed in that position for some time, until he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. He rose from the chair and turned, expecting to see Dave Woodard watching him with sympathy.

But instead, he saw Maggie.

His eyes widened in wonder. "Maggie?" he whispered.

She was wearing a white dress, just as Sam had described. And she looked as beautiful as Sam had said she did. Like an angel.

Beautiful, but wrong.

Her hair was longer than it had ever been, past her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were darker and her lips were unusually red against the ghostly pallor of her skin.

He held out his hand, hoping that she would give him her own. He wanted, needed to feel that hand again. He had to know that she was real, that he was not dreaming.

"Maggie…."

He walked towards her and reached for her hand. Her skin was cool and she gazed at him uncertainly. His free hand drifted to her face and he brushed his fingertips over her cheek in awe.

She was real. She was not a dream or an image out of his imagination. Not dead, not a ghost. She was real.

"Maggie," he said, tears of happiness running down his face.

He gathered her into his arms, but she stiffened and moved away. She stared at him sadly, as though she were pleading with him not to touch her again. He could only watch as she glided over to the bed and placed her hand gently on Sam's forehead. He saw for the first time a ring on her hand. A ring with a small black stone, surrounded by sparkling diamonds.

At the sight of that ring, he realized what she had been trying, without words, to tell him.

She was not Maggie.

Not anymore.

"I-I don't… I don't understand."

He ached to reach out to her and turn her back into the woman he'd loved. A woman who had never cared to wear a gown so extravagant, or a ring that had cost more than anything else she'd ever owned.

She shook her head, her expression mournful. There was compassion to be found in her eyes, but there was no love in them.

Her love for Sam. Her love for him.

Gone.

"I don't know what's happened to you, but I love you, Maggie," Joe said, nearly choking on the words. "I love you."

The solitary tear that fell down her cheek was her only reaction. She moved away from him and stepped into the hallway. Unwilling to let her walk away, he ran to the door, only to glance down the corridor and see nothing.

"Maggie?" he pleaded. "Maggie!"

She did not answer his pleas, but a smooth, familiar voice sounded from behind him, and dread seized Joe's body as quickly as death had claimed Sam's.

"I'm afraid Maggie Evans does not exist anymore, Mr. Haskell."

Joe turned slowly, so very slowly.

Standing at the foot of the bed was Barnabas Collins, his deep set features had never looked so disturbing as they did in that moment, when the truth became so horrifyingly clear to Joe that it was enough to take his breath away.

"The woman you saw here tonight is not the girl you knew," Collins continued almost pleasantly, as though he were informing Joe of some trivial fact that meant little to either of them.

Joe stared at him wildly, blind with anger and paralyzed by fear.

"It…it was you." All he could do was whisper. "You…you took her. You…oh my god…."

The air around him had gone stale, and no matter how much of it he breathed in, he remained unable to break out of the painful prison of suffocation that had erected its invisible walls around him.

"I gave her the chance to become more than what she was," Collins said. "I gave her eternal life."

"What…..what are you?" Joe began to tremble, his terror kept him rooted to the where he stood, even as Collins crept closer to him.

"What I am does not matter to you, Mr. Haskell," Collins assured him, his voice still gentle, his face sinister. "After tonight, nothing will matter to you ever again. You must understand that I cannot allow you to leave here now that you have seen Josette."

Josette?

"Why….." Joe stumbled over his own tongue, the fear that coursed through him making him clumsy, "Why are you calling her Josette? I know who she is! I know that's Maggie!"

"As I told you, Maggie no longer exists. The woman you saw is Josette."

Joe had no time to cry out, Collins had suddenly taken a hold of his throat with one hand and rendered it impossible for him to speak. Impossible for him to breathe. There was a possessive gleam in the man's eyes.

"And she is mine."

The words were released in a snarl, and they were the last words Joe would ever hear. Collins forced his neck to twist to an unnatural angle, and the body that had housed the soul of Joe Haskell was nothing more than an empty shell as it fell hollowly to the floor.

And though there was still one man remaining in the tiny hospital room, there was no life left in that room at all.

A pale, slender hand traced the name on the new gravestone, and the ring that adorned her finger sparkled in the moonlight.

She turned to the dark figure that was watching her. "He loved her. He loved her the way you love me."

"No, not the way I love you." Cold, soft lips captured her own. "Never the way I love you."

There were no more words between them. Only love.

Love in the shadows of death.