Title: Dial 'N' for Nightcrawler Author: Mel Rating: G, maybe mild PG for some angst Teaser: After sitting in for Christina Noble in 'Dead Air', Nick has a weird dream Spoilers: none Feedback: please, feed me, feed me! I'm thirsty.

Notes: This was inspired by about three things: My second watching of 'Dead Air', thoughts of 'what if LaCroix had called in to the show that night?' and oddly enough, a scene in the book 'Brave New World'. It's set right after 'Dead Air' in the first season, pre-LaCroix's return. If anything can be changed or improved, please don't hesitate to let me know. I can use the critiquing.

"This is Nick Knight sitting in for Christina Noble and our topic tonight is acting out fantasies. If you've ever acted out your deepest fantasies, pick up that phone and give us a call."

The assistant signaled that a caller was on the line and told Nick through his headset that he had identified himself only as 'The Nightcrawler'.

If Nick had been human, he would have paled.

It can't be.I killed him.it has to be some crazed fan acting out his own fantasy.

Nervously, he pressed the button. "Our first caller wants to be identified only as 'The Nightcrawler'. 'Nightcrawler,' you're on the air."

"Bonjour, mon a mi," came the familiar voice in its eerie, velvet tone. Shivers ran down Nick's spine.

"This is the Nightcrawler of CERK radio. I want to assure any of my flock who may be listening tonight that reports of my death were greatly exaggerated and that I have not left you without a guide, my poor, lost children."

"No.you're dead. I killed you.staked you and saw you scorched in the fire in my apartment."

LaCroix laughed evily. "Oh, Nicholas.my poor, pathetic, deluded Nicholas.were you really foolish enough to think that you could destroy me? You should know by now that I am far too old and powerful for that."

Nick pressed the button to disconnect the call, but it didn't work.

"You cannot rid yourself of me that easily, Nicholas, any more than your feeble attempt to destroy me could have worked. Since you're talking about fantasies, why not tell the listeners of the fantasy, the sham of a mortal life,that you are living? How you pretend to be a police officer, devoting yourself to catching killers and stopping criminals while all along denying the fact that you yourself are a killer. You cannot deny what you are, Nicholas. You must kill to survive. You must have blood to live. Yet you refuse to accept that. Instead, you continue to search for a cure, for some means of escape. You refuse to accept the fact that no such cure exists. You live among these worthless mortals when they will all be but a mere memory in the blink of an eye. You are so much more than they are, Nicholas, yet you go on refusing to embrace your nature, the freedom I have given you."

"You gave me an eternal hell!" Nick roared. "I want nothing more to do with you! I want no more of your senseless killing and your lies! There is a cure out there somewhere, and I will find it." He pulled off his headset and threw it down on the console, then ran from the booth, only to find his way blocked by his enraged sire.

"You will never escape me! I made you and I possess you totally! I gave you life, I gave you freedom, I gave you a gift beyond measure, and yet you would dare to reject me! "

"I choose true freedom," Nick shouted. "The freedom to love and be loved, the freedom to have a family and grow old, the freedom to choose my own destiny. The freedom to be happy and to not be dominated by someone else."

"Then you choose the freedom to have pain, to get sick, to grow old, to have your body ravaged by the decay of disease and old age, to not have enough to eat, to be uncertain of your future, and to eventually die."

"I choose them all."

"You fool! You stupid fool! You will never escape me! You will always belong to me!"

Nick lunged at LaCroix, snarling angrily. LaCroix seized him by the collar and heaved him over his shoulder and against the wall. Nick hit hard and slid to the floor, reeling from the shock. LaCroix laughed evily.

Rolling onto his stomach, Nick could see a wall of light where the booth had stood. As he lifted his head, he could see his beloved Natalie, standing in the light, calling to him, reaching out to him. He climbed to his feet and tried to go to her. As he surged forward, something jerked him back, and he sank to his knees from the jolt. He raised his hand to feel behind him. A chain, connected to an iron collar around his neck.

"I told you, Nicholas, there is no escape!" LaCroix said with an evil, cackling laugh. "I will completely possess you for all eternity!"

"NOOO!!!!" Nick strained against the chain, surging against it with all of his strength. The light began to recede, taking Natalie with it, consumed by the dark void around it. Nick reached out to her, desperately trying to grab her hands. He collapsed to the floor, watching helplessly as she disappeared.

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Nat!!!!!NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

Nick Knight awoke in a blood sweat, panting, his body trembling. He was safe in bed, in his loft. He climbed out of bed, put a robe on, and went downstairs to the refrigerator.

He took out a bottle, pulled the cork out with his teeth, and spit it into the sink. He brought the bottle to his lips, but couldn't bring himself to drink. Sighing, he walked to the sink, turned the bottle over, and emptied its contents into the sink.

He looked over at the scorched elevator door in the living room, all that was left of his dead sire. Why did his master have to continue to torment him, even from beyond the grave? LaCroix was gone, but he still seemed to torture Nick in his dreams and in his memories. Sometimes, it seemed, his late sire was not really dead at all.

Questions, comments, death threats, bottles of Ribena and wooden stakes may be sent to Sgt_buck_Frobisher@yahoo.com or fraserfanatic@hotmail.com