Chapter Seven: Hell Hath No Fury

Greg sighed in pure relief as he slid behind the wheel of his SUV, more than ready to head back to Wordy's house and sleep for the next day or so. Talk about one heck of a first day back. Truly, he understood Ed's concerns and appreciated his Sergeant's desire to take some of the stress off his shoulders. But Ed was underestimating him. No, he wasn't up to being Team One's constant anchor in every storm, but he also wasn't made of glass. Nor was he as emotionally unstable as he'd been right before his undercover assignment. He'd been fully capable of supporting Sam through the return of his memories, no matter what Ed thought.

"Boss."

Parker straightened in his seat, turning to see that he hadn't quite closed his driver's side door. He hit the button to roll the window down and yanked on the door, firmly seating it in its frame. His visitor managed a chuckle as he leaned against the door, waiting for the window to finish its descent.

"Something you need, Sam?"

Sam ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say thanks, Boss. For everything."

The lieutenant arched a brow. "You apologize to Spike yet?" The tone was neutral, though a shade of gentle chiding lurked.

"Yeah, Sarge. Once me 'n' Jules were done, I said sorry to both of 'em." That Greg had headed for his car by then went unsaid; Greg had left right after Merlin, but had only made it to his driver's seat before he had to stop and rest. The sniper straightened, lifting his eyes to meet his superior's. "Neal came down to take a look; it's all healed up now, not even a scar."

"Good," Greg murmured. "Sam, I don't mean to cut you off…"

"But you're beat," Sam finished. "Sorry, Boss. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Probably the day after at the earliest," Greg admitted.

Worry shone. "Can you make it back?"

"I think so; I'll call one of you if I can't." Greg managed a tired half-grin. "My word on that."

"Copy that, Boss," Sam acknowledged, stepping back. "Drive safe."

With a weary nod, Greg buckled his seat belt and rolled the window up. Then he looked over his shoulder, only to smile as he saw Sam gesturing him out. The blond guided him out of the parking spot and waved one last time as Greg put the SUV in gear and hit the road.

It was strange. He'd pulled out onto the road fully intending to head straight back to Wordy's house, only for his magic to twist and writhe within him. A sense of something being wrong assailed him, along with a powerful urge to head…somewhere. He wasn't sure where, only that his magic would guide him.

Greg shook his head firmly, turning the wheel back towards Wordy's house. It was late, he was exhausted and hurting badly. If he kept having that sense of something wrong, he could give Holleran or Locksley a heads up, but it was nothing short of foolhardy for him to go poking around himself when he was so depleted.

The lieutenant focused on the road, wrestling just a bit more energy up from the depths so he could drive safely. At least he'd managed to avoid another trip through rush hour. Saved a whole lot of starting, stopping, and keeping his eyes open for the inevitable lane-jumpers. Time passed as he drove, navigating through the city as the sun finished its descent and the shadows of night began to advance.

It wasn't until an hour passed that Greg realized. He wasn't heading towards Wordy's house; he'd driven in a completely different direction. A low grumble rose in his throat and he started looking for a good place to turn around. Plus, he should probably call Shelley and let her know he'd gotten himself a bit lost, but he'd be heading in the right direction soon.

One hand reached for his SUV's radio; he had no idea where his teammates – former teammates – had found the vehicle, but for a used car, it was rather high-end. The radio was integrated with the car's computer and included both Bluetooth and a navigation system. While all three could be controlled from the steering wheel, he hadn't yet figured out how to set a destination without using the radio's touchscreen. At least Shelley had programmed her address into the 'home' button, saving him the trouble of pulling over so he could type it in.

But just as his fingers touched the radio, another driver swerved into his lane and Greg's attention flew back to the road, his impulse to call Shelley gone. He guided the SUV around the other driver, shaking his head, and kept driving. He'd be there soon.

Night had fully fallen by the time Greg arrived. SUV headlights pierced the darkness in the parking lot and the lieutenant frowned as he scanned the area. Funny. His gut had been convinced something was wrong here, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just a forest preserve parking lot, technically closed for the evening, but still available for a driver in a pinch.

Placing his SUV in park, Greg got out, looking all around him. His feet hurt after a day of overuse, but he set that aside. No, he just needed to figure out what might be wrong and then he could head back to Wordy's, endure Shelley's scolding, and go to bed. The officer ranged around his car, peering through the shadows in all directions. Nothing. Stopping next to his vehicle, he closed his eyes, listening hard. Wind moved through the trees and the sounds of night life flooded his senses, but it was all ordinary. Nothing to be concerned about in the slightest.

With an internal shrug, Greg turned back to his SUV and headed around to get back in the driver's seat. He reached for the door handle… Except his hand never entered his line of sight. Frowning, Greg tried again, but his muscles didn't respond. The officer shifted to step backwards, but his body never budged. A third time, Greg started to rea…

He blinked. What…what was he doing? He couldn't think…he was so tired… Why did he need to move? Better to just stand here…resting… But…didn't he need to… Go… Home…? His hand never twitched. Not numb, just…not reacting…

A feminine shriek pierced his eardrums right before she seized him and hurled him to the ground. He slammed into the pavement and slid a bit, but when he tried to move, his body simply…laid there. And…why did he need to get up…?

"Oh, no, you're not getting off that easy, peasant," a woman snarled.

The world snapped back into focus. Morgana le Fay loomed over him, rage in every line of her face. An otherworldly ball of green fire floated above her hand, throwing the scene into eerie green shadow. Greg fought to tense, fought to move, but his body didn't react at all.

What? What's happening to me?

Morgana sneered, emerald eyes alight with vicious glee. "Having a few problems, are we, little knight?"

Greg kept struggling as she knelt, running a hand over his chest. His skin tingled unpleasantly under her touch, but his magic didn't flare. Instinctively, he reached for the 'team sense' and gasped as ice filled his mind, shutting down the connection before it could even come to life. Words fought their way free from the prison of his mind. "What. Have you done?"

She laughed, a cold, haughty laugh full of dark triumph. "Do you like it, little knight?" she purred. One hand cupped his chin, turning his head and lifting his eyes enough to meet hers. "Truly," Morgana spat, "You are pathetic. You have magic and you fear it. You despise it."

The vicious slap she delivered immediately thereafter stung, but not as much as the realization that she knew. How? How did she know he feared his magic? How could she possibly…?

"I could have left you there, you know," Morgana hissed. "Helpless against the fate you chose for yourself."

Skin crawled at the fresh discovery. "Why save me?" Greg rasped. She hadn't had to do anything, not with him unconscious in the middle of a towering inferno.

"You are why Merlin no longer hides, little knight. You and your little cousins. You defy the Old Religion, scorning its demand of a Life for a Life. Refusing to bow before the Triple Goddess's last High Priestess." Ice spread as her magic flowed through him, wrenching every inch of his body from his control. He felt himself sit up, hands reaching back to brace his position even as his chin rose to hold her eyes, but he wasn't doing it. "But the Old Religion will not be denied, little knight," Morgana spat, dark glee shining. "I will have my Vengeance on you." Deliberately, she paused, smiling at the horror in his eyes. "But rejoice little knight. I shall not punish you alone."

"No," Greg croaked out. "I'm the one you want. Leave them out of this."

"Had you accepted my Judgment, little knight, I would have. I would have." Morgana rose and his body followed suit, a slave to her whims. "But you chose to fight my ruling. And your friends chose to free you from my punishment."

Then her icy power encased his mind and her will pressed in all around him. Numb, he summoned up the 'team sense', delivering his mistress's orders to his vassals. If his soul screamed denial, it mattered not. Not to the mistress who stood next to him, smiling as the magical commands took hold.

His mind was his own again as they waited. At her command, he'd parked his SUV and turned it off, the better to keep his teammates from getting suspicious when they arrived. Not, Greg realized, that it would matter in the long run. Even if his friends caught on, all Morgana had to do was control him and he would issue more magical commands. Commands they couldn't fight, even if their very lives depended on it.

Despite everything, Greg refused to simply give up. He'd abandoned trying to regain control of his body and thrown every ounce of energy into fighting for the 'team sense'. Her icy power remained inside of him, though, cutting off every attempt to reach the 'team sense'. He fought, but it made no difference. She had him and his fear of his own magic meant he couldn't even bring all his strength to bear. Talk about irony; he was divided against himself and she stood in that divide, laughing at all his pitiful efforts to save his friends.

Despair threatened to overwhelm him, but he wouldn't give up. He couldn't, not with his friends on the line. For an instant, warmth burned through him and mental fingers grasped the links with desperate strength. 'Trap; Eddie…trap!'

Awareness faded into distant horror as her will closed around him.

'Greg? Something wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong. Just get here as fast as you can.'

'Copy that, Boss.'

The vice grip opened and Greg automatically fought to reach the 'team sense' once more. No, he had to warn them, had to keep them away. No matter what, he had to protect them.

"Enough, little knight. I underestimated you once, but now I have your measure. You cannot fight me."

He glared as best he could from within the prison of his own body. "I'll never stop fighting," Greg vowed. "And I'll never give up on them."

Morgana laughed that high, haughty laugh he already hated and seized his chin. Frozen power blasted through him, draining all the warmth in his body and soul. "You. Are mine!" she hissed.

"Yes, mistress," he replied dully, bowing his head in obeisance. Her will surrounded him; he could do nothing else. Her word was law and he was nothing if not obedient to her.

The sound of car engines cut through the silence and his mistress nodded approval. "It is time. Come."

He rose a beat after her and shadowed her every step as she gracefully moved forward. His head was lowered respectfully and he waited anxiously for her next command. The mistress halted and he stopped as well, watching with disinterest as six cars came to a halt on the pitch black pavement. His vassals, come at his call and sworn to his service as he was sworn to hers. A spark flared behind his eyes and he impatiently shook it away, embracing her will with all he had.

"Greg?" a voice called, worry ringing loud. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing the speaker calmly.

"Sarge? Come on, Sarge, Shel's goin' nuts. You were supposed to be back hours ago," a second voice declared.

The mistress laughed, stepping into the light from the new arrivals' headlights. "How very touching," she sneered.

They reacted at once, backing away and going for weapons.

"Control them, my own!" the mistress commanded.

He reached for them, an order slipping effortlessly through the links that bound them. 'Stand down and don't move.'

They obeyed, stilling, but he could feel their confusion and dismay through the links.

"Greg, what the heck?" one of them blurted. "What are you doing?"

Warmth broke through the ice around his heart and Greg slammed the orders down, shattering them with every bit of his will. "Run!" he yelled. "Get out of here, guys!" Morgana snarled fury and he felt her cold touch seize his mind, but he fought. With everything he had, he fought, praying he could hold her off long enough for them to get away.

"Get the Boss!" he heard Eddie yell.

No, no, no; leave me and save yourselves! The 'team sense' closed off before the cry could reach them, Morgana's will smothering his own. But he could not, would not, surrender and let her have his friends. No matter what, he would fight for his people. His focus narrowed, heart and soul fighting a battle he couldn't hope to win; she was inside his head, controlling his magic. Dimly, he felt Wordy haul his body up, slinging him over one shoulder before turning to sprint for his car.

Morgana shrieked and warmth fled as she drowned him out. "Stop," he ordered and the man beneath him halted at once. "Put me down." That order, too, was obeyed, but he scarcely noticed. Within, his magic flared at her command. 'Return to me, now. Don't speak and don't fight.'

They came to him, their eyes full of emotion he didn't bother to read. Once all his vassals were present, he turned to the mistress, bowing his head as he waited for her next command. She smiled, advancing forward; her fingers twitched and he knelt, a shiver running through him when one fingertip touched his chin and brought it up. "You fought me."

"I'm sorry, mistress."

"Yes, little knight, you are," she hissed. "I should command you to make your fellow knights forget that you have not betrayed them."

"Yes, mistress," he acknowledged, icy shame growing at her angry tone.

She laughed and he cringed. "Shall I do it, little knight?"

"If that is your wish, mistress." Behind him, he heard a few muffled sounds of protest, but his orders held, preventing actual speech from his vassals.

The mistress paced around him, her power ringing him just as much, sinking into him until frozen cold was all he could feel. "You are still fighting me." A low, furious hiss.

He opened his mouth to deny it, but emotion slammed through the ice, hatred burning hot. "Always," Greg hissed right back. He would never stop fighting, no matter what.

Morgana whirled on him, an icy spear forming in her hands. It flashed through the air, plunging into his chest and through his heart. He heard his friends cry out in objection as he fell backwards. Cold surrounded him and he gasped once before the warmth was gone. He blinked as his body moved, pushing itself up before kneeling again, waiting for her Judgment.

The mistress waved her hand, conjuring a rope. "Order your own to touch this," she commanded.

"Yes, mistress," he replied, relying her orders through the links. His vassals obediently moved forward, gripping the rope. After a moment, his body moved and he reached out himself, grasping the rope in an iron grip.

An instant later, magic spun them away, leaving behind seven empty vehicles. Six of them continued to putter away, their headlights sweeping beams of light through the empty parking lot. It was past dawn when they were found, all of them out of gas and with their keys still in the ignition except for the parked dark-blue SUV.

~ Ad Alia

Author note: To Be Continued... *cue closing Flashpoint music*

I hope everyone enjoyed little Sam and his brief adventure with his adult self's teammates. Of course. we're clearly off to the races once more and we've got one very ticked off High Priestess on our hands.

As per usual, I love each and every review, so please do read and review.

Ahem, moving on. We'll be charging full speed into the next story; "Philosophy of Trust" now starts on Monday, May 31st 2021, right here in the Flashpoint/Merlin archive.

See You on the Battlefield!