Disclaimer: Priest and its characters belong to Scott Stewart.

Claimer: I own Tessa.

Changes: This chapter is where Julian tells Tessa what he did to Priest's family.

Chapter #11: Peace at Last

Black Hat's hands shook faintly as he lowered Tessa's unconscious body into the tub of warm water. If the sight hadn't been bad enough when he'd found her, it had shown its entirety when he'd undressed her. Her clothes had been torn and ripped from the attack, and now that her skin was exposed he could see the full extent of her injuries. Bruises, scrapes, and a couple sets of claw marks littered her body; he didn't even want to think about the kind of pain and terror she had gone through.

He had left the queen shortly after hearing the strange screech roll over the land. Now he could only wish he had left sooner, because then he wouldn't be in the situation he was in now. Words could never describe what he had felt and thought upon walking into the horror show that had occurred. Every bodily fluid in him had turned to solid ice when he had seen her huddled in the corner with blood dripping down her arm and staining her side a deep crimson. He had seen her tears, heard her screams, knowing he hadn't been there to….

His eyes squeezed shut, forcing the images from flashing before his eyes. First it had been shock, which had crystallized into the coldest feeling he'd ever experienced, and then a boiling, simmering rage had melted through and exploded into a blind, enraged rampage that ended with three snapped necks before he even realized what he'd done. He hadn't even had time to enjoy the Familiars' screams of terror, too overcome with his own horror and rage. Nothing could have satisfied him—not if he had tortured them relentlessly until the end of time. He had ordered them to keep her safe should anything happen, and the imbeciles hadn't even known where she was. It was too late. He had been too late. It was as he was gently running a cloth over her skin, washing the blood and secretions from her body, that she began to regain consciousness. He watched as her eyes slowly opened and shifted up to him, still in a slight daze.

She was very still for a moment, but she was beginning to register where she was, as she smelled the lavender soap and recognized the bathroom's décor. Slowly, her eyes moved back to his, and it was when she realized it was him that a jumbled stream of emotions suddenly took over her body without her control. Before she could stop herself, she began to cry, as a miniature whimper escaped her lips. She felt fingers lightly brush against her cheek, and she recoiled sharply.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"Tessa, it's me—"

"I know it's you!" Before she could stop herself, she was screaming at him. "This is all your fault! You said they wouldn't come up! You said they would stay in the basement! You weren't there; you were the only one who could stop them!" From the corner of her eye, she saw his hand lift, and a flash of panic coursed through her as she cowered, her hands flying up to shield herself. "NO! Don't hit me!"

"What? Tess, I wasn't going to hit you," he said gently.

All of a sudden, she was falling against him and breaking down in his arms. Releasing a shaky breath, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her securely as he rubbed her back. The next thing she remembered was being picked up out of the tub, and she felt him drying her off with a soft towel. When she finally managed to open her eyes again, she felt guilt burn in her stomach when she saw his eyes were sad. After he finished drying her, he picked her up and set her down on the bed before walking over to the dresser to retrieve some clean clothes for her. She took them from him without looking at him, too embarrassed to make eye contact with him after he had seen her in such a disheveled state. When he left the room, she dressed herself, and he returned with a glass of water. He handed it to her silently, and she took it without a word. After taking a couple sips, she set it down on the nightstand and curled up on the bed, drawing the covers over herself. A few minutes later, she felt him lay down as well, and his back accidentally touched hers. She cringed away immediately, and she heard him let out quiet sigh.

She woke up later to a strange sound. Cracking an eye open, she was shocked at what she saw. He was sitting upright, the blankets pooled at his waist, and he was crying silently. Silent tears streaked his cheeks. She stared in poorly concealed disbelief, not knowing what to think at first. She watched as he turned his head up towards the ceiling, his eyes cold and glistening.

"You bastard," he whispered.

She frowned.

"You son of a bitch. If you're really out there, you've only given me another reason to hate you. You hurt her, you bastard…"

She was shocked as she realized he's crying because of what happened to her. Immediately, she felt her heart softening, but she closed her eyes when he turned his head down to her. She stayed still when she felt him lay back down beside her, and his fingers brushed her bruised cheek.

"I know if you could hear me, you wouldn't believe me… but I didn't have anything to do with what happened to you, Tess. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you…" His voice was a shaky whisper, and it was at that moment she made a decision. She hadn't meant to be so harsh with him while she was in the tub. He had only been trying to help her. Releasing a fake, sleepy sigh, she pretended to shift closer to him in her sleep and snuggled up against him. She could feel his hesitation, but he eventually wrapped his arm around her. He kissed her head softly, and when he spoke his voice was sad.

"If you only knew what you were doing right now…"

It was then she decided that tomorrow she was going to straighten things out with him. She had reacted erratically tonight, but it had been mainly from the aftershocks of her panic. She knew he had nothing to do with the outbreak, but she had probably made him feel terrible. He was still a murderer, but not to her. To her, and her only, he was a protector, and he had failed as such by not being there for her that night. As a man, failing to protect the woman he cares for is about the worst dishonor he can have. The eyes were the windows to the soul, and tonight she had seen all of his soul when he'd cried. He was still in there. He was still her Julian. The one she should be blaming is the queen. That bitch had done this to him. She had taken her Julian away, but she was going to get him back. She wasn't sure how or how long it would take, but the priest from the cities was still in there.

The next morning, she awoke to find him gone. She tried the door simply out of curiosity, but it was locked. He had left her food and water, and upon a short inspection of the room she realized he had brought her belongings back as well. That was when something suddenly clicked in her mind. Running over to the desk, she hastily pulled out the box, and relief instantly flooded her. Reaching into the box, she pulled out Kaiya and held her close, having feared she had been killed during the rampage.

It felt like an eternity, but he finally returned. She was startled when she heard a door slam, and the sound of booted footsteps could be heard striding down the hall. A moment later, she heard the door unlocking, and she jumped when he threw it open and slammed it shut behind him. A frown instantly came to her face when she saw a set of claw marks going across his cheek and neck, and upon further inspection she saw his clothes were torn. It didn't take a professional psychologist to tell he was upset. Against her better judgment, she questioned him.

"What happened…?"

Before she would blink, he was suddenly on top of her, and she let out a small, startled cry. Instantly she became afraid, as she looked up to see his eyes were filled to the brim with bloodlust. He looked crazed, but before she could try and figure out what had happened he was grabbing her by the wrists and pinning her to the bed, having straddled her as he loomed over her with an angry snarl. She tried talking some sense into him, but he wasn't listening, and briefly those fangs were poised, as if ready to strike.

"Stop!" she shrieked. "Julian, stop!"

"I can smell the blood running through your veins," he sneered. He was breathing heavily, fangs glinting and eyes ablaze. When he spoke, his voice was shaking, but she could tell it wasn't entirely from rage. "You have no idea what it's like. You don't know me. You don't know the sacrifices I've made. And for what?"

She remained silent, knowing better than to speak.

"What do I have?" he continued. "I've lost you, my brothers and sisters abandoned me, the Church abandoned me, and now the queen. I have nothing! The tattoo on my face and the fangs in my mouth will forever mock me. The cross on my forehead may as well be a brand of inanity!"

All she could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, both shocked and confused he was suddenly pouring himself out to her like this. She released a cry when his grip become painful, and if he had gripped her any tighter he would have broken her wrists. "Julian, you're hurting me!" she cried.

It was like she had hit a switch, because the anger suddenly drained from his eyes. He looked down to where he was gripping her wrists, and when he looked back to her face there were tears prickling in her eyes. Pure horror crossed his features, and the next second he was throwing himself off her. She stared up at him with wide eyes, completely confused. He was staring down at her in horror, and then all at once he was practically running from the room. She was left speechless, as she tried to organize her thoughts once more. He had said he'd lost her, his brothers, the Church, and the queen? It was then she realized he had been at the hive—or wherever it was he queen was currently hiding. That explained the claw marks and his torn clothes. She had clearly attacked him, but why? Surely, there had to be a reason. In spite of the terrifying encounter she'd just had with him, she wanted to go find him. Standing, she cautiously peeked out into the hall, the door having been left slightly ajar.

When she saw no Familiars, she slowly emerged from the room and set out to find him. It was as she was searching that she noticed something odd. Where were all the Familiars? The mansion was completely empty. Curiously, she ventured towards the front hall, and she found something surprising. A note was pinned to the doors. Had he expected her to try and escape? Walking over, she plucked it from its pin.

There's a bike packed for you out front if you want to go. I won't follow you.

She stared at it in blank shock. He was letting her go? For a long moment, she debated with herself. Why was he letting her go? She thought back to his words and realized the answer was quite clear. He was giving up. The queen had been the one "real" connection he thought he'd had, and she had clearly rejected him in one form or another. On top of that, Tessa herself had been giving him hell almost constantly. He literally had nothing. She couldn't leave. She had decided she was going to make things right with him, and that was exactly what she was going to do. He needed her right now. He'd needed her this whole time. With a newfound determination, she resumed her search for him, and eventually she found him.

He was sitting against the wall separating the balcony from the rest of the room, elbows resting on his thighs as his hands gripping at his hair. His facial features were tensed, hat placed on the ground beside him. He had never looked so pitiful, and she felt her heart melting for him once more. Quietly, she padded over to him, and he looked up when he heard her. Shock was stamped on his face when he saw her, and she came to sit beside him silently. She watched as his face tensed once again, and he looked back down.

"You were right. You were right about everything…"

Her eyes softened. When he looked back at her, she knew he was looking at the bruise on her cheek—the one he had left.

"This is all my fault…" he whispered shakily.

"No… and I'm a bitch for saying that to you."

He looked up at her in shock. With softened eyes, she rose onto her knees, and he was stunned as she shifted so she was straddling his lap. As he stared up at her, his eyes were searching her face in no small amount of disbelief, and even more confusion.

"I don't understand…"

She was quiet for a moment, and her hand came to caress his neck. "I know," she whispered.

He frowned slightly.

"I know you went to the hive. She drove you out, didn't she? The queen." Her eyes stared straight into his. "I know you feel utterly alone, angry, and maybe even a little scared."

His eyes were shining. "I hurt you. I promised I wouldn't…"

"You stopped yourself when you jumped me, and that's what matters." Her eyes were calm. "I was reacting from the attack when I was screaming at you. I realize now what my words must have done to you last night. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

His eyes were dissecting hers. "Did you see the note I left you…?"

She nodded.

"…Why did you stay?"

"Because you needed me to."

His eyes widened a fraction.

"I made you a promise five years ago, remember? I think it's about time I start living up to that promise."

His eyes were unbelievable. So many emotions were swimming around in those brilliant golden orbs at that moment that she got lost in them. Smiling softly, she lifted her hand to caress his uninjured cheek, and his eyes closed, face tensing. To her confusion, however, he took her aback when he suddenly pulled away from her touch.

Julian?" Shock travelled through her when she saw his eyes were glistening. "What's wrong?"

When he looked up at her, she could see the pain as well as considerable amount of fear swimming in those golden depths. Her eyes searched his with concern. Had her earlier yelling caused this?

"Talk to me," she said softly.

His eyes squeezed shut at her words, and a couple of the tears managed to seep from beneath his eyelids and trickle down his cheeks. The salt in them stung the claw marks, but he barely noticed. Then all of a sudden, he felt arms pulling him into a gentle embrace, to which he returned immediately. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she could feel him trembling a little as she rubbed his back, cradling his head against her chest.

This was the first time she had held him since the city. He had wanted this for so long. He breathed in her scent deeply, savoring the feeling of her body pressed against his—of her arms wrapped securely around him. Though, he knew that once he told her what he had done to Priest's family she could shove him away in disgusted horror, and it was ripping him to shreds internally at just the thought of it.

"Honey, talk to me," she murmured in his ear. "This isn't you." Her fingers made soothing trails up and down his neck and shoulders. "Tell me."

His body was still trembling, but for now he was managing to keep the tears at bay, as he pulled away from her. Her frown deepened. Why was he rejecting her touch all of a sudden? Something was horribly wrong.

"Julian, please talk to me. I don't blame you for the attack. That wasn't in your control."

"I love you, Tess," he whispered, voice shaking.

She froze.

"I love you so much."

She stared. "Julian, you're scaring me..."

"I failed you, Tessa."

She frowned.

"I failed you. You had faith in me. You listened to me, helped me... You shared your world with me, and what have I done for you in return?"

"Julian-"

"I killed them."

"What? Killed who?"

From there it just began to pour out of him, and there was no force in the world that could have stopped it. He told her everything. His mouth formed words without his control, and he could barely look at her as he told her what he did to Sharron and Owen, and what he had tried to do with Lucy. Not a single, solitary detail was left out, even though he knew telling her this would only seal his worst fears. By the time he was finished, he his breathing had climbed to an erratic level, as a choking feeling that rivaled his fear at being dragged away by the vampires consumed his body, crushing his lungs and suffocating him.

"I'm so sorry, Tessa!" he shouted hysterically.

He felt hands on him, and then he was being pulled into a warm, secure embrace. It took a moment for his frantic brain to realize what was happening, but when he did he couldn't bring himself to believe it. His arms held her back tightly, burying his face in her breasts as hot tears streamed down his face. From there he began to say he was sorry over and over again, unable to stop himself. She just shushed him soothingly as she rubbed his back, slowly rocking with him.

"I don't hate you, Julian. Clearly you have regrets for what you've done. Calm down, love. You're still my Julian. Breathe... Breathe..."

He was crying quietly into her breasts, the sound muffled as she rubbed his back in attempt to calm him down. A moment later, he felt her kiss his head. He gripped her tightly, unable to believe it. His entire body had shattered in her arms, and if it had been anyone else witnessing him in this state he would have felt shame burning in his every fiber, but all he felt was overpowering relief. Words could never describe what he had thought when he'd felt her take him back into her arms for a second time. He had not even the slightest urges to bite her even though he could smell her delicious blood pumping through her veins, unable to bring himself out of the denial she was actually forgiving him. Eventually his breathing evened out, but neither of them made any move to pull away from each other.

"Do you need to go to a doctor?" he asked quietly.

"No. They didn't hurt me that bad."

His released a shaky exhale. Finally, after about ten minutes, he forced himself to gently pull away from her, and he met her eyes at last. She just smiled down at him, trying her best to seem reassuring. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the forehead before standing, taking his hand in the process.

"I'm tired. Let's go clear our heads."

He followed her wordlessly, and when they returned to the bedroom she laid down first, burrowing under the covers as he came over and pulled back the blankets before laying on his stomach, head facing her on the pillow. She shifted closer to him and lifted her hand to begin tracing her fingers up and down the line of his back.

"Now… I would like to start my three-way apology by saying you were excellent in bed for a beginner…"

Much to her fulfillment, a smile cracked onto his face, and she returned it fully.

"Remember the day we first met?" she asked softly.

"How can I not? You slammed into me. Come to think of it, you do that a lot."

She smiled. "It was when we were holding each other."

"What was?"

"That was when I realized I was probably going to fall in love with you."

He blinked, nonplussed. "That soon?"

"I'm not sure what it was about you. You were just… I don't know… different." Her lips twitched faintly. "Remember the night I let you look at my books?"

He smiled slightly. "How could I forget? I remember everything about those days."

"Really…?"

He nodded. "You were 305, and I was 304. I remember the night you tended to my wounds, and how you treated me as if I was a regular person. I can still feel your finger tracing the tattoo on my forehead. I remember the oriental curtains and bedspread… the chest of books and journals in the corner… and the paintings. I remember the painting of the desert landscape, a herd of wild horses, and the close-up of the Priest's eyes. I remember the one of the forest and river with snowcapped mountains and Fallow deer… the painting of the white tiger, and the one of the farm. Sometimes, when I was alone, I could still feel your arms around me from the night you held me for the first time…" His eyes fell briefly. "I remember the painting of the Northern Lights, and the night you invited me to look at your books and sketches. I'll never forget that picture you drew of me…" He trailed off as he remembered seeing it torn from the sketchbook.

"You mean this one?"

He looked back to her as she got off the bed and walked over to the desk where he had set her bags. After a little digging, she pulled out a wallet, and from it a folded piece of paper. Walking back over, she climbed back into the bed and unfolded it before holding it up. He stared at it in disbelief. She'd had it on her the whole time? All this time he'd thought she'd thrown it away.

"Remember the morning you woke up in my bed?" she asked suddenly.

He cracked a smile.

"You looked like a drunken ballerina."

Scoffing, he shoved her slightly. "Shut up."

She grinned. The sparkle in her eyes was back. This was the woman he knew.

"So you're not angry?" he asked hesitantly.

"Are you done with the vampires?"

The question appeared to trouble him, but it hardly surprised her. All this time he had been so sure about the path he had taken, and in just one single night everything he knew had been ripped from his hands for the second time in his life.

"She was only using me... just like you said. I don't know what to think..."

"Then don't think about it." Reaching over, she took his hand in hers. "We'll talk about this tomorrow if you want to. Right now, clear your head."

She distracted him by bringing up more memories from the city, but after roughly an hour of reminiscing back and forth, he could tell she was falling asleep. He watched her as she slowly drifted off. Once he was sure she was asleep, he propped himself up slightly, leaned in, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Tessa."

Changes: This chapter is where Julian tells Tessa what he did to Priest's family.

Dear God, finally. I've been writing my butt off to get to this part. Vacation weeks are great. Next chapter has vampires! And Tessa is severely pissed off at them, but not for reasons you may think. Read to find out. ;D