Chapter 37

Having a very good idea of who his visitor was Barnabas turned away from him. "I do not wish to discuss the relationship between my son and I, with you, Mr. Oakley."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "I see that you know - ahh! I see that my estimable colleague, Sebastian has already informed you, of who I am."

"He mentioned you," Barnabas agreed, sounding weary. It was clear that he didn't want to talk, but Robin, seemed oblivious to the fact.

"Not favourably, I'm sure," commented Oakley. "But then, I'm not here to make friends. I wish to talk to you.."

Barnabas turned to face him, his gaze intent. "Mr. Oakley, I do not wish to talk to you, tonight or any other night. Nor do I wish to discuss Matthew with you. If you're here to find reasons to get rid of Sebastian, you have come to the wrong place. I will not help you. Now, please leave."

Robin wasn't going to be put off. "Sebastian is becoming far too involved with Matthew. As a Watcher, he should remain impartial. And allowing him to see this...Megan, is only one indication of that."

"Megan has been a good influence on Matthew. And I doubt anyone could stop them from seeing each other. And I don't intend to try."

"So you approve of the relationship," mused Robin, thoughtfully. "A pity, really. The relationship must end, Mr. Collins, and I'm delegating the job to you."

Barnabas stared at him, aghast. "You can't be serious? You expect me to ruin my son's relationship? You're out of your mind!"

"I'm not asking, Mr. Collins."

Barnabas' hazel eyes darkened, and a dangerous note, edged his voice. "If you think you can order me, you are greatly mistaken," he said, quietly. "I do not take orders."

Robin tut-tutted. "Come, come, Mr. Collins, this is not the Eighteenth Century. You are no longer the Lord of Manor. You will do as I say, or Sebastian will suffer the consequences."

Barnabas advanced towards Robin, quickly, and grabbed the other man's jacket, his dark eyes blazing. "I am aware that this is no longer my own century, Oakley, nor in a sense am I the Lord of the Manor as you put. But I am a friend of Sebastian's and I will not allow you, or anyone else, to malign him. Nor will I interfere with Matthew and Megan!"

The tips of his fangs were just visible as he spoke. "Now get out!"

/

With a blind rage, and tears blurring his vision, Matt ran out into the night, not caring where his feet took him. In his haste he stumbled, his arms flying out to keep his balance.

Without realising it, his blind dash brought him to his mother's grave. With a cry of rage, he screamed into the night, "Why! Why didn't you tell me!" His cry of outrage turned into a wail, and he fell to his knees, heartbroken. "Why did you keep it from me!" he whispered, through his sobs. "Why?"

/

Belatedly Robin sensed the danger he's manner had thrust him into, and he moved towards his right pocket. Barnabas warned that Robin was out to cause trouble was ready for him, and quickly grabbed the hand that hovered over the pocket.

"I think not, Oakley," he intoned dangerously. "There will be no crosses, and no investigation, do I make myself, clear?" he said, moving his head closer to the short Englishman, his gaze growing in intensity.

/

Sebastian and Megan were on the sofa talking when Matthew finally returned to the cottage. Immediately, Sebastian knew that something was wrong.

He got to his feet, and crossed over to where Matt had stopped on entering the cottage. Megan rose wearily to her feet; also, judging from his posture that something had happened.

"Matt?" questioned Sebastian, when Matthew remained silent. His scrutiny, putting him on his guard. Then he saw his eyes, and he became concerned.

"You've been crying," he stated, concerned. "What happened?"

Matt continued to regard with silent attention, then his brows narrowed. "You've something on your glasses," he said, calmly enough.

"I have?" asked Sebastian, taking them off. Matthew's fist slammed into his mouth, the force of the blow, snapping his head to the right. The momentum, and the surprise of the attack, caused him to stumble backwards. Feet flying he fell hard on his back. Megan screamed Matt's name, but he ignored her.

Matt moved forward and roughly pulled Sebastian to his feet. Pain and shock registered on his still youthful face, and blood flowed from his bottom lip. "Matt..." he had to time to say before the Slayer pulled him closer, their noses touching. "You knew, didn't you!" he yelled. "You knew all along and you didn't tell me!"

"Matthew, I..."

"Don't lie to me!" fumed Matt, shaking him. "I've heard it all from Barnabas! You knew about the blood tests and you kept it from me!"

"Matt what's going on! What are you talking about?" broke in Megan, alarmed at Matt's anger, and sudden attack on Sebastian.

"He knows," said Matt, shaking the Watcher again. "He knows why your father calls me halfling."

Sebastian hung his head. If this was the reaction he had now, he could well imagine what it had been with Barnabas. It obviously hadn't gone well.

Megan turned to Sebastian. "What is he talking about?"

"Is this the best time to talk about this, Matt?" asked Sebastian, dabbing at his bloodied lip. He winced, slightly. He supposed he should count himself lucky that Matt hadn't it him, full force. He was quite capable of it. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private."

"No way," said Matt, his eyes gleaming. "You're not getting out of this that easily. I know why you, my mother, Uncle Nick, everyone, insisted on those blood tests, you all knew! What am I, Sebastian!"

"Let go of me, and I'll tell you," he replied quietly, looking steadily at him. Matt released him after a moment's deliberation. Then he moved over to the drinks cabinet, and poured out a brandy.

He handed it to Matt, who shook his head. "Take it," he said, "you need it. You've had quite a shock."

After a moment Matt took it, after staring down into the amber liquid a moment he took a sip, his face twisting at the taste.

"Now, we're going to discuss this, calmly and reasonably." He paused a moment, and then began again.

"Barnabas must have told you, who he really is, for you to know about the tests. But what you obviously don't know yet, is that your mother was responsible for curing him."

Matthew looked up, frowning. "Curing him? Is that even possible?"

Sebastian nodded. "I even helped her, when your father was shot with a silver bullet. It was part of Petofi's prophecy. That he would be shot with a silver bullet and that it would bring an insatiable hunger. But I digress. Your mother knew that Barnabas was a vampire, long before they married. Their relationship was turbulent at times. Often finding themselves in dangerous situations, with one of the other, sometimes both, in danger. But during it all, they never lost sight of the fact; they loved each other very much. Your father loathed what he was, and what he was forced to do.

Your mother hated it almost as much as he did, for very different reasons. When they found out about you, they were delighted, but also greatly concerned. They weren't sure if Barnabas' ailment could be transferred to any child he might have. In fact, because of what he had been, he wasn't sure if he could even have children. Added also to your mother's age, they just naturally assumed that they would remain childless.

Your presence quickly convinced them they were wrong. They loved you, and wanted you, very much. Because of her success with your father, your mother, chose to monitor you, periodically, to make sure that an abnormal cell, that was present in Barnabas' blood stream, didn't pass to you. If it did, then she would be able to work on a vaccine, to help prevent it from developing any further. They'd hoped it wouldn't happen, but knew enough to realise that they would have to tell you, one day. And they would have, if...your mother hadn't died.

"You asked what you were; the correct term is a dhampir; a child of a vampire father, and human mother. They have the ability to track down vampires. Much like a Slayer. The thing is, however, that dhampirs are better at it. However, Gil Phillips is wrong when he calls you a halfling; you're more human than you realise. The frequent blood tests, that you hate so much, have shown that you haven't inherited the abnormal cell that your parents so feared. There's no evidence that you will. I think it would have shown up by now, if you were. I admit that I was concerned, after you were stabbed, and you were given blood transfusions. After your first encounter with Petofi, and you were ill for a few days.

Tests showed that something was happening, but you were fighting it off, remarkably well. The last test you had at Clearwater was clear. There's something I want you to read, that may help you, understand, a little better."

He rose to his feet, and walked over to his desk, He picked up a book, and crossed back over to Matt.

"What is it?" he wanted to know.

"The true history of the Collins family. It's a true account of what happened to your father. I have other volumes that you should read after this one. Hopefully this will help you put everything into place."

He stopped a curious expression on his face. Suddenly he said, "There's something I have to do. Matthew, read this volume, and try and understand. I'll be back as soon as I can."

/

A knock disturbed Matt from his reading. He glanced irritably at the door, and then went to answer it. Robin Oakley stood outside, a somewhat embarrassed smile on his face.

"What do you want, now?" asked Matt, irritably.

"I was hoping to see Sebastian," he said, letting himself into the cottage.

"He's not here, and I don't like the way you just barge into a person's home. In fact, I don't like you at all."

Robin turned his mouth open to say something, when he closed it abruptly and sniffed. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

Matthew had noticed it, too, and looked wildly about the room. "Mother?" he asked, looking for any evidence to her presence. The perfume waxed and waned, and then a book, pulled by invisible hands, moved out from a row of books about midway in the bookcase.

Robin's eyes widened, and turning to Matthew, said, "Tell Sebastian that I have finished my review. I shall be in touch, Goodnight."

Matthew barely noticed his departure. He hurried over to the bookcase and the book that stood out from the rest of the row, and began to read.

/

"I got here as fast as I could, Barnabas," said Sebastian as he entered the drawing room of the Old House.

Barnabas turned away from the empty fireplace, a smile of greeting almost showed itself on his pale face. "So, you heard me," was all he said, looking down at his hands. Sebastian thought he looked weary, with his slumped shoulders. He was about to break the silence between them, when Barnabas spoke again. "I tried, Sebastian," he said, sounding depressed, and defeated. "I thought telling him the truth, would help him. All I've done is turn him against me. I've lost him, Sebastian. He left here, in a rage..." he stopped, his eyes narrowing. "What happened to you?" he asked, seeing the cut lip.

Sebastian touched his split lip and winced, slightly. He grinned, somewhat painfully. "Matthew's anger."

"You've seen him?" said Barnabas, straightening, hope lighting his tone. "When?"

"About a half hour ago. He came in swinging, demanding answers. I think I explained things well enough. I give him the true history of the family to read. Hopefully, it will verify what you've obviously told him."

Barnabas looked down. "I doubt it," he said quietly, once more sounding defeated. "I know there is no longer any hope for me, with Matthew." He sighed, a tired sound, reflected by his expression of utter defeat and hopelessness. "I've lost him, Sebastian. It's about time I faced the truth. He will never forgive me. He has even more reason to hate me. I don't blame him."

He glanced towards the bay window, and the lightening sky. "I had hoped that I would be a better father, to my son, than my own father was to me," he said, anguished. "It's not a happy thought, to realise that I'm more like him, than I realised."

"You're nothing like Joshua, Barnabas. You have been and still are a good father, to Matt. I've seen it, and in time he will remember it, and realise it too."

Barnabas shook his head. "No he won't. It's gone to far for that." He straightened suddenly, standing his full height, and turned to the Englishman. "I've had enough, Sebastian," and gestured to a table, he hadn't noticed when he'd first returned to the Old House. Resting on it, were a hammer and stake. Sebastian turned back to face Barnabas, his expression reluctant resignation.

"Remember your promise," was all his said, holding Sebastian's gaze steadily.