Chapter 38

Sebastian walked over to the table, and picked up the hammer and stake. He stared at them, a moment, twisting the stake from side to side, as if examining it. Finally, without a word he replaced them on the table. He looked at Barnabas with all the respect he could muster. His throat worked, but he didn't speak. Finally he nodded, and looked down quickly. He sighed, a watery sound.

Barnabas stared at him sympathetically, and put a companionable hand on his shoulder. "You have always been my friend, Sebastian," he said quietly. "But we must both face facts, that Matthew will never understand, or forgive me. What I ask of you is hard on you, I know. I wish things could be different, but they're not. I miss her," he stopped, unable to continue, and looked down at his feet.

Somehow, Sebastian found the strength to speak. A deep sorrow tinged his accent. "I will keep my promise, Barnabas," he said, just managing to keep his emotions in check. "I'm only sorry that it has to end like this. Despite what others think, you're a good man, Barnabas. And I repeat what I said before; I'm proud to call you my friend." He paused a beat then asked, "When would you…" but found he was unable to finish the sentence. He looked away.

"I think the sooner the better," said Barnabas quietly, glancing towards the brightening sky once more. "For you at least. Don't grieve, for me Sebastian. Matthew is right in one respect; I died, the night Julia did."

Sebastian turned to face him, his eyes red, his cheeks wet, not caring that he see. "She was a remarkable woman," he agreed. "I'm sorry, that I knew her only a short time. It'll be dawn soon, we should go."

Barnabas looked over his shoulder, once more, then looked around the drawing room, once last time. Finally, turning to the Watcher, he stuck out his hand. "You're a brave man, Sebastian."

Sebastian shook his head. "Now, there you're wrong, Barnabas. I doubt I've met a braver man than yourself."

Together they moved towards the basement door, their voices low.

Once they were out of sight, a shadow detached itself from the darkness, and watched after them.

/

When Sebastian returned ten minutes after dawn, he was surprised to see that he wasn't alone.

Matthew held the stake in his hand, looking at it thoughtfully. He glanced up at Sebastian, before returning his glance to the stake.

"Matt, what…" he asked, wondering how long he had been standing there.

Matt put the stake down carefully. "What did you promise him, Sebastian?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

So, he had been there long enough for him to hear at least a part of their conversation. Sebastian watched him closely. The angry teenager was gone, replaced by, - what – exactly? Sebastian wasn't sure if he trusted this new mood of his.

When he remained silent, Matt returned his attention to the hammer and stake. "From these, I get the idea that you were going to destroy him. Is this what you came back for?"

Sebastian thought it better not to deny it. If he knew this much, then he'd obviously been here, long enough to hear most of what they'd talked about.

"I promised him peace," he admitted, walking slowly to the table. "And it's a promise I intend to keep," he said, firmly.

Matt turned from the Watcher's unrelenting gaze. The anguish he'd heard in his father's voice as he spoke echoed in his mind. He swallowed as he looked at the stake, twisting it slowly in his hands.

"I must ask you to break that promise, Sebastian," he said quietly.

When he finally returned his gaze to Sebastian, he noticed a sudden change in him. Admittedly it was small, almost subtle, but there all there same.

Past experience had hardened Sebastian to Matt's mood swings. "You can ask, all you like," he replied, letting his irritation show. "I take my promises as seriously as I did my Watcher's Vows."

"Just once, forget your Vows," said Matt, determinedly. "The truth is...I want to talk to him." He looked away again, from Sebastian's searching look.

"Why?" he demanded. "Don't you think you've put him through enough? You didn't believe him, so why continue this?" he was angry, and he was determined that he knew it.

"You don't want to do it, so why are you making such a fuss?"

West took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "It's obvious that you were here, hiding some place, listening in. Don't bother denying it Matt. Figure it out yourself." He made to pick up the stake and hammer, but Matt was quicker.

"I think I'll take these," he said, a smirk touching the corners of his mouth. It faded, quickly, and a strange gleam shone in his penetrating eyes. "Barnabas will understand you couldn't go through with it," he said after a few minutes, and stake and hammer in hand, left the Old House.

/

It was late afternoon when Matt burst into the cottage, with an excited air. Sebastian was writing a letter, and looked up briefly, before returning his attention back to his writing, without acknowledging him.

Matt ignored the snub; he was far too excited.

"I've found it, Sebastian!" he cried, happily. "I've found it!"

"Good for you," muttered Sebastian, with disinterest, as he continued writing.

At last, the lack of interest got through to him, and his calmed down slightly. "Well, you could be a little more enthusiastic about it, Sebastian."

With an irritated sigh, Sebastian put his pen down, with a flourish, letting the teenager, know that he was far from happy about being disturbed. He took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes, then went about cleaning the lenses of his glasses. "It would help matters, if you elaborated on what it was that you've found," he said, his attention fixated on his polishing.

Matt looked down, all excitement gone. "I'm sorry about last night, Sebastian. I shouldn't have hit you. I-I'm sorry."

Sebastian replaced his glasses, and clapped his hands together, slowly and deliberately. Then turned he grey eyes to him, slightly darker than normal, but not the thunderheads that usually betrayed his anger. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "I'm waiting."

"I've found what could be Dane's coffin. It was carefully hidden in the basement ruins of Collinwood."

"You searched there," Sebastian commented.

"Yeah, but not as deep as I found the coffin. It was extremely well hidden. I wouldn't have found it, if it hadn't been.." he stopped suddenly, and Sebastian looked at him curiously.

"If it had been for whom?" he asked pointedly.

Matt became agitated. "Forget it," he said rising to his feet. "I just thought you'd want to know."

Sebastian rose to his feet. "I'd like to see this coffin. Make sure that it's Dane's."

"Who else could it belong to? It certainly wouldn't be Barnabas'."

"I'd like to see it all the same. By the way, Robin stopped by while you were out." Something in the way he said it, told Matt that he had also noticed the strangeness about him.

"The guy is a whack job. He called by last night, looking for you."

"He mentioned it. He's called the investigation off, so I'll be sticking around, for a while yet. Thanks to Barnabas, and his little hypnotic spell."

"That figures," mumbled Matt under his breath. Loudly he said, "Well, do you want to see this coffin or not?"

Grabbing his jacket, Sebastian followed Matt out in pursuit of the elusive coffin.

/

Sebastian stared at the coffin, his face streaked with dirt. He wiped a hand across his forehead, palming off sweat. "I see what you mean about been very well hidden. I certainly wouldn't have thought to look this far."

He opened the lid, obviously finding the coffin empty. He gave a low whistle. "Curious," he mused. "See this, it's lead," he said, pointing to the interior. "It could explain why you couldn't sense him."

Sebastian looked thoughtful. "But, if the coffin is lead lined, why didn't you sense him when he wasn't in the coffin?" He turned to Matt again. "How did you find this?"

Matt looked uncomfortable, under his guardian's intense stare. He swallowed then said quietly, "My mother."

/

Dusk approached, Barnabas felt awareness invigorate his body. He lay in his coffin, still not sure if this were real or imagined. His sharp hearing picked up a movement, and the soft scurrying of a rodent; a mouse probably was his first thought.

He slowly opened his eyes, staring at the darkness, as his other senses came into focus.

A muffled thud came from within the wooden confines of the coffin, and a second later the lid was raised. "No! Not another night!" he wailed.

"SEBASTIAN!" The third syllable of the Englishman's name rose higher filled with a mixture of rage and disappointment. He had failed him. He had been so certain that this time the promise of peace had been genuine.

He was about to climb out of the coffin, when another sound, caught his attention. His sharp eyes swivelled to that direction, fangs descended.

Someone was here. "Who's there!" he demanded, "show yourself!"

He rose with dignity from his wooden prison as a figure detached itself from the denser shadows.

"Matthew!" he said surprised to see him there. He watched him warily; his son had been the last person he had expected to see.

Matthew stared levelly at his father. "Don't blame Sebastian for not keeping his promise," he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. "I prevented him from keeping it."