Chapter 9

"Georgie."

George Brant lifted his head, smiling good naturedly "So am I again in need of advice?'

"Of course" Dave laughed without malice "I want to tell you not to give up on Barnabas."

"I have his friendship and that is enough. Should be enough."

"He is hungry for what you have to offer him, even if he's not aware of it yet. And he's afraid. Do you know that he's a rape victim? In 1897, by one Petofi and his boy toy, Aristide. Can you imagine what it must have cost him to deal with Phillip's assault by Tom Jennings? But deal with it he did. He's either very brave or very foolish."

"Something you share with him..."

"Yes. With him you'll have to wait for the right moment, and once the opportunity comes, seize it. But be very gentle, for the first time might be the last. If you hurt or scare him, he might freak out, and he can be very destructive when he freaks out."

"But why do you want me to have him?"

"Because he's what you need. How many virgins have you had?"

"Virgins?"

"Zero, right? How many of your partners were less experienced than yourself? Again zero. You just keep going to me older than yourself, hoping that they will be me. And it doesn't work. You can't get me back. You shouldn't try."

'I haven't..."

"Never mind. You won't be able to do that with Barnabas. You will have to be the older one, the experienced one. You'll have to make him forget his assault, and accept your love. And you can't do that as long as you remain my boy. But as your own man you can do it. He is what you need. And, while he does not accept it yet. you are what he needs."


"Quentin" Barnabas tried to control his temper "I want you to give me one reason, just one good reason why I shouldn't throw you down the stairs."

"Why all the fuss? I did not know that I had a dose."

"What about your using my name for your... escapades"

"I didn't think you'd mind."

"Well, I mind a lot. I don't like the idea of the VD clinic hunting me. And using my name to become a one man epidemic, making all those women sick."

"Sicker than what they are after you visit them? Sicker than you made Charity? Or Beth?"

"It wasn't me who caused Beth's death."

"That was an accident" Quentin paled "and you know it."

"Was Jenny an accident?"

"Was Carl an accident?" Quentin shot angrily.

Barnabas looked at him coldly "You have no right to reproach me for that. You of all people."

"You were the one who killed him."

Barnabas did not answer. He knew what the whole story was, how it had been arranged so that she lost time until Petofi could get there and make sure that the werewolf curse could come down to Chris, who would be needed in 1980 to stop the Leviathan. But he would not explain it. There was no way to keep such an explanation from being self-serving.

"We'll split the blame for that one " he said, finally.

"How generous of you!" Quentin said with scorn.

"How old are you, Quentin?"

"Why do you care?"

"How did you manage not to grow up? How come you are still an arrested adolescent.?"

"I can't grow up!" Quentin spat out "What do you think Petofi's portrait is all about? It will do all the changing for me. It will grow old for me. It will get sick and weak for me. And it will grow up for me."

Barnabas realized that it was true, and was filled with horror "You mean..."

"I am frozen in time, Barnabas. Perfectly preserved, like a fly in amber Trapped like a fly in amber."

"Quentin..." Barnabas tried to speak.

"You pity me." Quentin said bitterly "I wish I could tell you to save your pity. But damn it, I want it. I need some pity that isn't my own... I finally figure it out. Why all the efforts to make something of myself failed. Why I kept making the same mistakes over and over. The same stupid mistakes...

He collapsed on a chair and looked at Barnabas with hatred.

"How to you do it?" he asked "You too are frozen in time. You too will not grow old. but you still can learn and change. You have dignity. What is your secret?"

"You could destroy your portrait."

"And die of old age? I'd like to live a little before I die. I want to know what it means to be responsible, reliable... anything. Any of those things you find so easy to do."

"They are not as easy as you think."

"But you managed it. That's why I used your name. Because I envy you. Because I wanted to be you."

"Was that why you slapped me when I was helpless?"

"I wanted so badly to go to Parallel Time. But I could not, and watching you go there while I stayed behind... it was too much. Oh, I should have never accepted Petofi's gift. I should have known how poisonous a gift of him could be... I never had a friend, Barnabas, and you have so many. No one respect me, not even myself. You have everything and I have nothing."

"I don't have everything."

"You have enough!" Quentin said angrily "Brant puts his career on the line to help you, and he doesn't mind. You can do to Louella what...what you do, and Willie will watch you fill your needs with his wife, and his only regret would be that your hang-ups prevent you from using him the same way. You have sent Maggie to Congress. You are liked, respected, loved. They know the worst about you, and don't care."

"If they love me, it is because I love them," Barnabas said quietly "I was never given anything. I had to earn it." then his voice became quieter. "Except Julia. She believed in me against all logic. And because of her belief I could make it on my own. And so can you if you really work at it."

"Haven't you heard me explain how useless that is while that portrait exists?" Quentin moved to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself some brandy. "I guess I better take one for the road."

"Can.. can I do something?" Barnabas offered.

"You have done enough for me." Quentin said bitterly "Why couldn't you have left well enough alone?"

"I didn't think it was well enough... I am sorry."

"Yes. You are always sorry" Quentin swallowed the brandy at one gulp. "and much good it does me."

They stood silently for a few seconds, unsure of what they could say to each other.

Then they heard the small feet scurrying towards them.

It was Edmund, watching them with wide open eyes, then running to Quentin.

"Daddy! Daddy!" he shouted.

He clung to Quentin in spite of Barnabas' efforts to dislodge him, in spite of Quentin's trying to shake off this strange kid.

"Daddy! You've come for me!" I knew you would!"

Quentin looked at Barnabas dumbfounded. "Who is this?"

"Edmund Collins" Barnabas knelt down and tried to pry Edmund loose off Quentin. "He's not your father, Edmund."

"He is! You lied!" Edmund insisted.

"No, Edmund, you are wrong."

It took time to pry Edmund loose, to make him go, crying, to his room. "Why did you lie?" he asked angrily at Barnabas. "Why did you say he was dead?"

"He's not really your father. He only looks like him"

Edmund's face closed. Barnabas realized that Edmund was rejecting him. He could try explaining the concept of Parallel Universes. He could repeat many times that Quentin, his father, was dead. But it was useless. Edmund had seen Quentin and would now only believe his eyes.

And the fear mounted in Barnabas... the fear that had never left him since he had decided to adopt Edmund... all his precautions making sure that Edmund did not wander off... and now in his anger, getting careless to the point of allowing Quentin to come into his house...

He looked down the stairs to Quentin. He was going to lose Edmund... To Quentin. To someone he no longer liked nor respected...

"What's the matter with him?" Quentin asked.

"You have the same face as his father." Barnabas said dully.

"The one from Parallel Time?"

"Yes."


"Well, Rev?" Megan's mockery had no malice in it. :"Got better luck this time with Sandy?"

"She's too full of anger to really listen. But eventually she will think it over. When, I do not know, but she will."

"You are a persistent man. Do you want some coffee? I got decent coffee, not like Barnabas."

"Yes. Black with sugar."

"Would you like to talk with any of the others? Chris? Tammy? Joe?" They might need spiritual guidance.

"It would be better if they sought me out by themselves. If I forced myself on them it would make them reject me violently. I prefer to give them time. Too many churches go out to seek converts too enthusiastically. If they are true converts I have nothing to say. But any of them, apart of giving the impression of growth, are just warming the benches and understand as little, if not less, than before they converted. They probably make wonderful messes of what they hear.

Megan laughed. "I remember when I was a kid and prayed 'Lead us not into Penn Station;"

"You were not the only one."

"Seriously, Tammy might need your help. She's been having trouble lately."

"What sort of trouble?"

"She traced her roots. And guess who she found in her family tree? Barnabas. Our Barnabas."

"She's related to Barnabas?"

"She is his great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter, give or take a couple of greats. She is his direct descendant."

"Wow!" Anselm could not think of a more intelligent comment.

"The best she spoke of him, was that he was all right for a honky. Now, tell me, Rev, is that the way to treat a Venerable Ancestor, as the Chinese put it?"

"No, it isn't." Anselm finished his coffee and laid it down. "Did she tell him what she had discovered?"

"She' screwing up her courage for that. I wonder how he will take the news."

Anselm laughed "It is kind of weird." he admitted "to think that he will meet his great great great grandchild. That you too, one day..."

"I won't I have no children. Anyway, I don't intend to live that long."

"You won't?"

"My job can get dangerous, and that's why I chose it. I can't die a natural death, but there are plenty of accidental ones, if you know where to look. And Barnabas won't last long, either."

"How can you be sure?"

"He has a great need for affection. both to give and to receive. He had family and friends who loved him. And one day he lost them all. Well, he's pulled himself together. he now has family, friends, and even lovers. And he loves them as much or more than the loved those he lost. He can't stand the knowledge that he will lose them too. Willie, Julia, David... all of them. And he knows that there is only way to avoid losing them."


Carolyn was expecting him when he got back. And her expression was not mocking, as he feared.

"Did you see Barnabas?" she asked.

"Yes." He waited for her comment on his VD, but it did not come.

"Did you see the kid he has with him?"

"Edmund?"

"You met him?" she asked eagerly.

"Meet him? he clung to me, calling me Daddy, and saying that Barnabas had lied to him."

"He did? Carolyn smiled widely "Good for him. Quentin, you have to do a thing for me."

"What?"

"Claim the kid as your son."

"He's not mine."

"I know. But that will allow me to adopt him. I want him, Quentin. He's a Collins, and his parents were legally married."

"But..."

"He called you daddy. We will have no trouble convincing a judge to award him to us."