Chapter 39

Wanted one good hearted woman

To forgive imperfection in the man that she loves

Wanted just one chance to tell her

How much he still loves her

He can't be sorry enough

"Wanted" Alan Jackson

Barnabas looked bleakly at his son. "You hate me that much," he stated looking down at the coffin. He felt something inside him shrink, and fade.

He reached out and lowered the coffin lid. "There are other ways...unless you plan to stop me," he said sadly, weariness heavy in his tone.

Matthew watched him, closely. It seemed that his father seemed to shrink, somehow seem smaller. Again, the anguish he'd heard in his voice when he'd spoken to Sebastian earlier that morning, returned to haunt him. "I found Dane's coffin," he said, deciding not to answer his father's question.

"It was very carefully hidden in the ruined basement of Collinwood. Sebastian and I, destroyed it."

Barnabas wasn't surprised that his son refused to answer his question. He sighed, his expression one of deep sadness and weariness. His baring one of hopelessness. "How did you manage to find the coffin?" he asked, intrigued despite how he felt.

Matthew stared at him very directly. It was a moment before he spoke, and when did, Barnabas looked at him sharply. "My mother...appeared to me last night. She...talked of her love for you, and give me a dressing down for doubting you. She was pretty angry." He stopped and looked around the hidden room. He looked back at his father. "Tell me one thing; did you ever, hurt her or try to hurt her, before that night?"

Barnabas stared at his son, for a moment, and then bowed his head, knowing that he could not deny it. He looked up, hesitated a moment, thinking over carefully what he was about to say. Rejected his first and second thoughts, and finally settled for, "If you really want to know, then may I suggest we go upstairs? This is hardly the place to discuss your mother, and it...depresses me." He looked about the room, a strained look on his face.

"You'll tell me the truth?" asked Matt, making no move to leave.

"I have tried to tell you the truth, for ten years, Matthew," he said quietly. "I only wish that it was what you really wanted to hear."

He strode purposefully passed him, expecting him to prevent him from leaving, but it didn't come. Instead, after a few seconds, Matt turned and followed him.

/

Barnabas stood near to the ruined bay window, staring out into the night.

Matthew stood a few paces away from him; hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets.

Barnabas stood with his back to him, when his spoke his voice was low, but Matt could still hear him well enough.

"I first met your mother in 1967. She'd come to Collinwood, pretending to be a family historian, wanting to do research into the family. In reality, she was a doctor, who claimed that I could be cured. I didn't believe her at first, doubted everything she ever told me." Barnabas paused, thinking over his next words, carefully.

He bowed his head in shame. "I didn't trust her, to keep my secret, despite her frequent requests for me to do so. I found her...a meddlesome and domineering woman. She...frightened me with her strength, and independence. She was quite different from the women of my own time. Women knew their place, and left the men to do what needed to be done."

His voice had grown wistful, and despite himself, Matthew found himself being drawn into his father's narrative.

Barnabas' voice dropped, and despite his sharp hearing, Matt found himself straining to hear. Barnabas turned to face his son, resolved to look him in the eye. "I...I'm ashamed to...admit..." he looked down, ashamed, unable to face him after all. It came to him how suddenly ridiculous all this was.

Matthew was volatile when it came to harm ever coming to Julia, and now here he was admitting that he had tried to kill her on more than one occasion.

Matthew's dark eyes regarded him steadily. His silence was deafening, and Barnabas grew uncomfortable under both the scrutiny and the lack of response. He closed his eyes, and pressed on, sounding crushed and miserable.

"I began to realise that she was in love with me, despite all of...of my…threats. I found the whole idea utter preposterous, and I told her so. It hurt her very deeply, and as I finally began to trust her, and realise that she wouldn't betray me, I came to regret those words. I don't know when it was exactly, that I began to feel something more than friendship for her. Only that I knew that I would never let any harm come to her. I would even go so far as to kill anyone that did..."

/

Barnabas continued to talk, until the brightening sky heralded the arrival of yet another dawn. He glanced apprehensively towards the eastern sky, and then turned back to Matthew. "She made me human," he continued, quickly, watching the sky. "Even when I was a vampire, she…made me human..." he bowed his head.

He had talked through the night; a part of him couldn't believe that Matthew had stayed this long. He'd expected him to turn and leave, without a backward glance, as had happened so often, or else their talk would end in an argument, and the inevitable fight.

Instead, he'd stayed, and with the exception of a few questions here and there, had listened in silence. Barnabas wasn't sure if it was an encouraging sign or not.

Matthew glanced briefly at the pink tinted sky, and then turned back to his father. He looked nervous. No doubt he was wondering what his reaction to all of this would be. What he'd heard so far had only confirmed his mother's version, and he had quickly recognised that some of the explanations also confirmed what he'd read in the official history, Sebastian had given him.

Once more, Barnabas glanced, nervously towards the east. How much longer would Matthew keep him there? How much more, did he want to hear? Another thought came to mind, and he felt a sudden fear at the thought. What if it were his purpose to keep him, until the sun's rays fell completely on him?

It wouldn't be the first time, and he could only count himself lucky that it had only been his hand...if that was being lucky.

"Matt," he began tentatively, slight panic edging his voice.

Matt, seeming lost in thought, visibly shook himself, at the sound of his name. "It'll be dawn soon," Barnabas, tried again now that he had the teenager's full attention, and glanced out the broken window frame to emphasize his point.

Matthew sighed, glancing towards the window. "Yeah, you'd better go," he said, turning to look at him sharply. "But tonight, you tell me about Dane."