Notes: This is set way way after FG3 - as in old aged pensioners, basically because I wanted to figure out a way to bring Julian back that sat right with me personally. I was never one of those people who thought Jenny and Julian should have been together rather than Jenny and Tom, so I figured if Julian came back with 'em all being young and sprightly, Julian is gonna start fighting for Jenny all over again. A trilogy with that as the storyline is fine, but I'm not so keen on sequels going along that theme. Hey, this is JULIAN we're talking about - all that damned potential...for good or evil. He needs to expand his horizons a little instead of chasing after Jenny yet again. So, I figured, Julian needs to come back for a reason that basically means that there aren't gonna be any fights or games over Jenny. So I took that out and came up with this.
Disclaimers: The Forbidden Game, and all characters therein belong to L.J. Smith. I'm only borrowing them, and am making no money from this.
Please note: This is a stand-alone fic, a one-shot. It was never intended to be part of a longer story, it was never intended to have a sequel. It was also an attempt to bring Julian back WITHOUT Jenny ever coming back - he's there to carry her memory on, and to bring her back would spoil that sentiment. However, I do appreciate the fact that so many people liked it enough to want me to write more - that means a lot. :)
-=-
Rememberance.
Tom wheezed, coughing into his handkerchief and grimaced. It seemed as if every day it grew worse, every day his life faded that little bit more. And every day his memories faded. His memories of her. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block the pain that weighted heavily on his heart. Why did the sweet memories have to be lost? Why couldn't the pain go instead?
Jenny should never be forgotten, he thought bitterly. Because that was exactly what was happening. When he left, Jenny would be gone forever. Tom was the last. The rest of the group had died gradually over the years, until only he and Jenny remained. Their only son had turned into a cold hearted and miserable son of a bitch, practically disowning his parents. Oh, /he/ wouldn't be there to remember Jenny. He hadn't even deigned to show his face at her funeral the previous year. His coldness and hatred had torn at Jenny's heart. They'd given the boy nothing but love, and he repaid them with hatred.
No, there was no one left to hold the torch for Jenny. No one who loved her with the passion Tom did.
Almost no one.
But he was gone long ago. Tom remembered those events. Memories that would never fade. Memories etched into his mind for eternity. The devil with the mesmerising blue eyes, white hair as frosty as his heart, and a face of inhuman beauty. A demon in the guise of an angel.
No, Julian was dead, too. His fiery passion for Jenny now as cold as the grave she lay in.
His beautiful Jenny.
Tom's eyes filled with tears, and his body shook with soul wrenching sobs as he mourned his dead wife. The light of his life.
A bout of coughing caused him to come to his senses a while later, and he forcefully turned himself to his task.
He looked down at the objects on the table before him fearfully, questioning himself yet again. Why was he doing this? And the answer came, as it had done the countless times before. For Jenny.
He sighed, and picked up the small pendant sized piece of wood, pushing the long leather thong out of the way so he could finish his work. From top to bottom he traced the runes he'd already carved in the small piece of wood. Jera. Uruz. Laguz. Isa. Ansuz.
Simple. Hardly elaborate, hardly in the same league as the original. But it would have to do.
/"It'll never happen."/ His words. He'd said them firmly to Michael all those years before, after it had all ended. And he'd believed them. He had truly believed Julian would never be reborn. If someone had told him then that it would be he himself carving Julian's name onto a small, makeshift runestave, he'd have either laughed them out of town, or punched them for suggesting such a thing. Yet here he was, old age taken root and Death around the corner, carving the name of the devil himself, intent on bringing him back.
He didn't know if this was going to work. Part of him hoped it wouldn't, but a bigger part prayed to God that it would. Slowly, hands trembling, he picked up the old pen knife and took a deep breath. Mustering all the belief, all the will power and all the need he could, Tom swiftly and firmly slashed the final rune into the wood. Nauthiz.
"Julian," he whispered fiercely, "Come on, Julian. Live."
At first, nothing happened. Tom's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Damn you, Julian. Jenny needed you. I need you."
The wind was so gentle that Tom didn't notice it at first. It increased in intensity, blowing around the room, disturbing papers. It ruffled Tom's hair, causing him to raise his head, staring through bleary eyes. Fear and hope began to rise within him as he watched the wind concentrate itself in the centre of the room. A small tornado, spinning madly, a storm of ice raging within, lightning crackling throughout. A bright, cold white light flashed, blinding Tom before he could even think to throw up his arms to protect his eyes.
And then everything was silent and still. The room was as it had been moments before.
Except for the lithe, naked figure curled up and shivering in the middle of the room.
Tom rose slowly, heart beating wildly in his chest, and made his way carefully to the figure, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. He knelt, hand reaching forward, coming into contact with smooth yet firm skin. He gasped. It was real. Julian was really there.
The figure moaned.
"What the..." He trailed off as he attempted shakily to get to his feet. Tom helped him as best he could. He wasn't as strong as he had been once.
"Easy," Tom muttered. "Take it slowly."
Julian blinked in confusion, a little unsteady on his feet. "Where am I?" he asked finally. "The last thing I remember is..." He stopped, thinking. "They removed my name. They destroyed me. For helping Jenny," he muttered, angry and bewildered.
"You're on Earth." Tom coughed. While Julian seemed unaffected by his naked state, Tom couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed. And a little envious. Julian was exactly as he remembered him. Youthful, strong, vibrant with energy.
"And you are?" Julian asked, regaining his composure. Startlingly blue eyes narrowed, a small smile playing across his lips in sudden recognition. "Well, well. Tommy. Devastatingly handsome as usual."
Tom scowled. He was old, and he knew it. Each year of his life was deeply etched into his face. He knew he was no longer handsome, desirable. The years had taken their toll. But Jenny had still loved him.
"You're still an arrogant and spiteful bastard," he shot back.
"Nice to know death hasn't dulled my skills," he stared at his hands, fascinated as he moved his fingers sensuously. "So, why did you of all people bring me back?" he asked at last.
"Jenny."
Julian's head shot up, icy gaze meeting Tom's. "Jenny? Is she alright?"
"She died. Last year."
Julian looked down again, unable to mask the sorrow in his eyes. "And so you thought you would pain me by bringing me back. I didn't think you had it in you to be so cruel."
Tom blinked in surprise. That had never occurred to him. "No. No, that wasn't my intention."
"Then what was your intention?"
"I'm dying," Tom said simply. Saying it out loud, even to Julian, somehow made it easier to accept. "I don't have long left."
Julian smiled humourlessly. "That's what humans tend to do in the end. Mortality is a bitch. And you expect me to do what about it?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Julian looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"I brought you back to remember Jenny." Julian still looked puzzled, and Tom growled in exasperation. "Everyone else is gone. I'm the last one left who loves Jenny. I'm the only one who remembers her. When I go, then her memory dies. Her love dies." His voice cracked, "I brought you back because...because you loved her. In your own twisted way, you loved her as much as I did."
Julian nodded slowly, painfully. "Yes. I loved her. I still do," he whispered.
"You're the only one who can let her memory live forever."
Julian nodded again. "It strikes me you get nothing from this."
Tom shook his head. "Jenny's memory living on after me is all I need."
"How disgustingly romantic," Julian commented. But the venom wasn't there.
Tom smiled grimly. He felt the small runestave in his hand, digging into the flesh. Bringing Julian back wasn't entirely sensible in his opinion. But he felt it was necessary. Giving Julian the ultimate control over his own life, however, could be considered downright insane. He sighed, making his move before he could reconsider.
"Here," he said hesitantly, holding out the pendant.
Julian stared at it a moment, then looked at Tom.
"Is that...?"
"Your runestave. Yes," Tom nodded, pushing it into Julian's hand. "Take it."
He took it wordlessly, tracing the runes of his name delicately, as if afraid they were an illusion.
"There are clothes for you to use in my son's room. They may not be to your tastes, but they'll fit." Tom gestured up the stairs. Julian nodded absently. "I'm going to bed. I need my rest."
"I'll bid you farewell, then," Julian spoke. "I doubt I'll see you again."
"No. I didn't expect to," Tom replied, moving up the stairs.
"Thank you," Julian said softly. Tom turned around and stared at the Shadow Man in shock. Gratitude was the last thing he'd expected.
Julian pulled the pendant over his head, leaving it to rest against his chest. He fingered it lightly, then smiled up at Tom, eyes flashing brilliantly.
"Take care, Tom Locke. I'll never forget Jenny. I promise you that much."
Tom nodded, and turned his back on Julian, youngest, and perhaps the most deadly of the Shadow Men, for the last time.
At last, he could rest in peace.
-=-
Julian gave the clothes a cursory glance. Tom had been right. Not his style at all, but they would do for the moment. He was weak. Too weak to do anything of use yet, but that wouldn't be for long. Soon, his strength and power would return to him. Soon, he would be able to take revenge on the other Shadow Men for destroying him. For taking him away from Jenny.
Soon.
He fingered the small runestave. It felt warm against his skin, humming with life. His life.
Electric blue eyes flashed angrily, menacing and determined.
"Soon," he hissed. He threw back his head and laughed wildly.
And this time they wouldn't be able to destroy him. His fingers closed around the wood, grasping it firmly in his fist.
Now, finally, he truly was his only master.
Fin.
Disclaimers: The Forbidden Game, and all characters therein belong to L.J. Smith. I'm only borrowing them, and am making no money from this.
Please note: This is a stand-alone fic, a one-shot. It was never intended to be part of a longer story, it was never intended to have a sequel. It was also an attempt to bring Julian back WITHOUT Jenny ever coming back - he's there to carry her memory on, and to bring her back would spoil that sentiment. However, I do appreciate the fact that so many people liked it enough to want me to write more - that means a lot. :)
-=-
Rememberance.
Tom wheezed, coughing into his handkerchief and grimaced. It seemed as if every day it grew worse, every day his life faded that little bit more. And every day his memories faded. His memories of her. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block the pain that weighted heavily on his heart. Why did the sweet memories have to be lost? Why couldn't the pain go instead?
Jenny should never be forgotten, he thought bitterly. Because that was exactly what was happening. When he left, Jenny would be gone forever. Tom was the last. The rest of the group had died gradually over the years, until only he and Jenny remained. Their only son had turned into a cold hearted and miserable son of a bitch, practically disowning his parents. Oh, /he/ wouldn't be there to remember Jenny. He hadn't even deigned to show his face at her funeral the previous year. His coldness and hatred had torn at Jenny's heart. They'd given the boy nothing but love, and he repaid them with hatred.
No, there was no one left to hold the torch for Jenny. No one who loved her with the passion Tom did.
Almost no one.
But he was gone long ago. Tom remembered those events. Memories that would never fade. Memories etched into his mind for eternity. The devil with the mesmerising blue eyes, white hair as frosty as his heart, and a face of inhuman beauty. A demon in the guise of an angel.
No, Julian was dead, too. His fiery passion for Jenny now as cold as the grave she lay in.
His beautiful Jenny.
Tom's eyes filled with tears, and his body shook with soul wrenching sobs as he mourned his dead wife. The light of his life.
A bout of coughing caused him to come to his senses a while later, and he forcefully turned himself to his task.
He looked down at the objects on the table before him fearfully, questioning himself yet again. Why was he doing this? And the answer came, as it had done the countless times before. For Jenny.
He sighed, and picked up the small pendant sized piece of wood, pushing the long leather thong out of the way so he could finish his work. From top to bottom he traced the runes he'd already carved in the small piece of wood. Jera. Uruz. Laguz. Isa. Ansuz.
Simple. Hardly elaborate, hardly in the same league as the original. But it would have to do.
/"It'll never happen."/ His words. He'd said them firmly to Michael all those years before, after it had all ended. And he'd believed them. He had truly believed Julian would never be reborn. If someone had told him then that it would be he himself carving Julian's name onto a small, makeshift runestave, he'd have either laughed them out of town, or punched them for suggesting such a thing. Yet here he was, old age taken root and Death around the corner, carving the name of the devil himself, intent on bringing him back.
He didn't know if this was going to work. Part of him hoped it wouldn't, but a bigger part prayed to God that it would. Slowly, hands trembling, he picked up the old pen knife and took a deep breath. Mustering all the belief, all the will power and all the need he could, Tom swiftly and firmly slashed the final rune into the wood. Nauthiz.
"Julian," he whispered fiercely, "Come on, Julian. Live."
At first, nothing happened. Tom's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Damn you, Julian. Jenny needed you. I need you."
The wind was so gentle that Tom didn't notice it at first. It increased in intensity, blowing around the room, disturbing papers. It ruffled Tom's hair, causing him to raise his head, staring through bleary eyes. Fear and hope began to rise within him as he watched the wind concentrate itself in the centre of the room. A small tornado, spinning madly, a storm of ice raging within, lightning crackling throughout. A bright, cold white light flashed, blinding Tom before he could even think to throw up his arms to protect his eyes.
And then everything was silent and still. The room was as it had been moments before.
Except for the lithe, naked figure curled up and shivering in the middle of the room.
Tom rose slowly, heart beating wildly in his chest, and made his way carefully to the figure, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. He knelt, hand reaching forward, coming into contact with smooth yet firm skin. He gasped. It was real. Julian was really there.
The figure moaned.
"What the..." He trailed off as he attempted shakily to get to his feet. Tom helped him as best he could. He wasn't as strong as he had been once.
"Easy," Tom muttered. "Take it slowly."
Julian blinked in confusion, a little unsteady on his feet. "Where am I?" he asked finally. "The last thing I remember is..." He stopped, thinking. "They removed my name. They destroyed me. For helping Jenny," he muttered, angry and bewildered.
"You're on Earth." Tom coughed. While Julian seemed unaffected by his naked state, Tom couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed. And a little envious. Julian was exactly as he remembered him. Youthful, strong, vibrant with energy.
"And you are?" Julian asked, regaining his composure. Startlingly blue eyes narrowed, a small smile playing across his lips in sudden recognition. "Well, well. Tommy. Devastatingly handsome as usual."
Tom scowled. He was old, and he knew it. Each year of his life was deeply etched into his face. He knew he was no longer handsome, desirable. The years had taken their toll. But Jenny had still loved him.
"You're still an arrogant and spiteful bastard," he shot back.
"Nice to know death hasn't dulled my skills," he stared at his hands, fascinated as he moved his fingers sensuously. "So, why did you of all people bring me back?" he asked at last.
"Jenny."
Julian's head shot up, icy gaze meeting Tom's. "Jenny? Is she alright?"
"She died. Last year."
Julian looked down again, unable to mask the sorrow in his eyes. "And so you thought you would pain me by bringing me back. I didn't think you had it in you to be so cruel."
Tom blinked in surprise. That had never occurred to him. "No. No, that wasn't my intention."
"Then what was your intention?"
"I'm dying," Tom said simply. Saying it out loud, even to Julian, somehow made it easier to accept. "I don't have long left."
Julian smiled humourlessly. "That's what humans tend to do in the end. Mortality is a bitch. And you expect me to do what about it?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Julian looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"I brought you back to remember Jenny." Julian still looked puzzled, and Tom growled in exasperation. "Everyone else is gone. I'm the last one left who loves Jenny. I'm the only one who remembers her. When I go, then her memory dies. Her love dies." His voice cracked, "I brought you back because...because you loved her. In your own twisted way, you loved her as much as I did."
Julian nodded slowly, painfully. "Yes. I loved her. I still do," he whispered.
"You're the only one who can let her memory live forever."
Julian nodded again. "It strikes me you get nothing from this."
Tom shook his head. "Jenny's memory living on after me is all I need."
"How disgustingly romantic," Julian commented. But the venom wasn't there.
Tom smiled grimly. He felt the small runestave in his hand, digging into the flesh. Bringing Julian back wasn't entirely sensible in his opinion. But he felt it was necessary. Giving Julian the ultimate control over his own life, however, could be considered downright insane. He sighed, making his move before he could reconsider.
"Here," he said hesitantly, holding out the pendant.
Julian stared at it a moment, then looked at Tom.
"Is that...?"
"Your runestave. Yes," Tom nodded, pushing it into Julian's hand. "Take it."
He took it wordlessly, tracing the runes of his name delicately, as if afraid they were an illusion.
"There are clothes for you to use in my son's room. They may not be to your tastes, but they'll fit." Tom gestured up the stairs. Julian nodded absently. "I'm going to bed. I need my rest."
"I'll bid you farewell, then," Julian spoke. "I doubt I'll see you again."
"No. I didn't expect to," Tom replied, moving up the stairs.
"Thank you," Julian said softly. Tom turned around and stared at the Shadow Man in shock. Gratitude was the last thing he'd expected.
Julian pulled the pendant over his head, leaving it to rest against his chest. He fingered it lightly, then smiled up at Tom, eyes flashing brilliantly.
"Take care, Tom Locke. I'll never forget Jenny. I promise you that much."
Tom nodded, and turned his back on Julian, youngest, and perhaps the most deadly of the Shadow Men, for the last time.
At last, he could rest in peace.
-=-
Julian gave the clothes a cursory glance. Tom had been right. Not his style at all, but they would do for the moment. He was weak. Too weak to do anything of use yet, but that wouldn't be for long. Soon, his strength and power would return to him. Soon, he would be able to take revenge on the other Shadow Men for destroying him. For taking him away from Jenny.
Soon.
He fingered the small runestave. It felt warm against his skin, humming with life. His life.
Electric blue eyes flashed angrily, menacing and determined.
"Soon," he hissed. He threw back his head and laughed wildly.
And this time they wouldn't be able to destroy him. His fingers closed around the wood, grasping it firmly in his fist.
Now, finally, he truly was his only master.
Fin.