XIX. Gray

Ian Nottingham sat on the dark rot iron of Sara Pezzini's fire escape. She had gone home alone tonight. He wouldn't have to deal with the irritating presence of her partner for some time, he hoped. Not that he ever could avoid him. Whenever a wielder from Sara's bloodline sprang up, there was always someone else with her. He knew for a fact.

Ian remembered several of those distant life times. He also knew that the people traveled in groups. With intermittent 'souls' here and there. It had been confusing at first. To have known all the people close to you for centuries. Millenniums, even. It wasn't until the memories in question surfaced that he fully understood what the Eastern Philosophy meant. And from those memories, he had come to the conclusion, that this incarnation of Detective McCartey was even more annoying than any of his previous selves. He did give him one point, though. He would die for her. He would kill for her.

He had before.

Ian was an old soul. Not as old as Sara's or Kenneth Irons, but he had been around. He had been there, first hand, to witness some of the memories that Sara was reliving during her sleep. Maybe, even the one she was having now. At times, he wished that his mind was capable of more than empathy. Not that reading emotion was anything to shrug at, but . . . to see the actual thoughts of others would be something.

He shifted his position on the uncomfortable metal. There was a slight rumbling in the distance. It would rain soon. He could smell it. Normally, it wouldn't matter. Tonight, however, he was to return home early. He stood up and watched her for a few more moments. It was time to leave. Ian jumped from her landing to the alley floor. He walked the few blocks to his car and headed home.

* * * *

She looked towards the outside world. Anything beyond the Wall was foreign to her. Her parents had died helping build the barrier that would protect Chin from the outsiders.

She even knew where their bones were used in the Wall's construction.

She had come to say her final prayers to them here, and to the ancestors. It would have to be quick. She could not afford to be seen. She didn't trust the blackness of night to shield her from her pursuers. She kneeled next to the Wall and brought her hands together in prayer.

The moonlight reflected off of the bracelet on her wrist.

She had many conversations with her brother and uncle, but she could never summon her parents. The Gauntlet had given her sight beyond normal vision. In her dreams and in her waking hours. The elders had discovered her secret, and demanded that the object be handed over. So it could "be put to its proper use by a worthy soul."

Fools.

They had no idea.

She smiled in remembrance.

She had given them what they asked for. By nightfall the next day all who had touched it were dust. They had aged so fast that their bodies had crumbled to the ground. She had laughed the whole night. Even now she could barely contain her laughter. The Gauntlet had found its way back to her. By then, no one would venture near her.

She was untouchable.

And, soon, she would be over the Wall and away from the insignificant mortals in her village. But they were braver than she hand first thought. A day after her departure, mercenaries had picked up her trail. She had fought all of them off. And, still, more came. Did they send word to the Emperor?

No matter. She was already ahead of them.

She finished her prayer and rose to her feet. Only to meet a blade at her throat. The man grabbed her hair and bared her neck. She tried to summon the weapon.

Nothing.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the men leering at her. She knew what would happen now. She had been so close.

The men drug her away from the wall. The blade dug into her skin. It took all night for her to die at their hands.

The Gauntlet's punishment for excessive ego.

* * * *

"Damn!"

Sara walked into her office to be greeted by the sight of her partner kicking the file cabinets and swearing. The noise didn't help her head ache, or her lack of sleep. She didn't know why Danny had told her to be alone for a while. Nothing new had happened.

Yet.

"Jake?"

"It's him!"

"What?"

"In the grave! It is James Broody's body. I was hoping, some how, it wouldn't be."

She sat down on his desk and watched him pace. He wasn't in a good mood today. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, too.

"Jake stop moving. You're making me sick with all the back and forth motion."

He stopped pacing the small room and ran his hands through his hair. Nope, he hadn't gone home. She motioned from him to sit down in his chair. Jake rotated the chair around and lowered himself into the leather.

"Is there any coffee out there, Sara?"

"I wouldn't risk it, Helstrom made it."

He nodded his head and closed his eyes. Maybe she should send him home. He looked beat. She was about to speak when he opened and eyes and asked her a question.

"How are you?"

"Tired. But I think you have me beat today."

"Oh."

"Jake, what all did you do last night?"

"I drove up to Albany to see the exhumation. It went pretty quick since the ground was wet from the rain. I stuck around for a few initial reports, but the dental records didn't come in until a few minutes ago. I came back and have been working since then. Trying to find anything. I checked up on the Morgans, too. There have been no problems there."

"Did you find any time to get some rest?"

"Nah. I couldn't sleep anyway." He shook his head. He leaned forward and searched around her for something on his desk.

"When's the last time you ate something?"

"I cleared the vending machine out of pop tarts last night. Could you scoot over? I think you're sitting on it"

"That is not an approved source of nourishment," She slid off his desk top watched Jake pick up a file she had been sitting on, "McDonalds is better than that. Who knows how long those things have been in there."

"I feel fine. It was like being in college again. I just had to extend the five second rule to a few years."

"Uh huh. Sure. More like decades. Come on, Jake. Let's go get something to eat. We can stop off at your place so you can get cleaned up. Then we can come back here and get to work."

"Sara, yo-"

She put a hand over his mouth and lifted an eyebrow in a silent question. He slowly nodded his head and she removed her hand. Sara grabbed his car keys off the file cabinet. The door opened next to her and Jake made a motion for her to go first. She walked out of her office and into an elderly, short, red-headed woman.

"Hello." The woman spoke with a huge smile on her face.

She looked over her shoulder at Jake. He shrugged in ignorance.

"May we help yo-"

"Yes. I'm Maggie Cole." She said in a cheery voice. Sara had the feeling that Maggie was one of those people who were perpetually happy. She stood there with a bright smile on her face while she looked up at Sara and Jake.

"I'm Detect-"

"I know who you two are."

". . . really? Well then, we really need to go Ms. Col-"

"Mrs. Cole and I think you two need to stay right here and talk to me."

"Ma'am, Detective McCartey and myself are in the middle of a very important case. We need to-"

"Need to talk to me. I know." She interrupted Sara once again. It was getting on her nerves.

"Mrs. Co--"

"The man you're looking for. He's been following me."

"I beg your pardon."

"He knows what we are Detective Pezzini. He knows what your partner is. He know that there are a few others in this very precinct who are just like Detective McCartey, though not as influential. He has a sense for it, Dear." She clasped her hands in front of her as she finished her sentence. Sara was reminded of an old couple that had lived next door to her when she was a child.

"Would you please come in, Mrs. Cole." Jake spoke over her shoulder while he pulled Sara back into the office.

"What a nice young man." She came through the door way and took the chair that was offered to her. For a moment, she studied the two Detectives. Her smile never faded from her face. Jake shifted under her scrutiny. He tried to cover it up by puling Sara's chair out for her.

"Mrs. Co-"

"You two make such a cute couple. Why, it reminds me of my Eugene and me when we first got together," She sighed, "We were so happy then. Didn't have a care in the world. It's a good feeling, isn't it?"

"We-I-well, we really shou-um . . ." Sara stammered.

"Yeah, it is." Jake said, quietly.

"Well then, I guess I should get on with it, shouldn't I? Don't want to be holding up some of New York's finest."

"Whenever you're ready, Mrs. Cole."

"Thank you, dear. Let's see. Now, I first read about what had happened at that house, well I guess it's been nearly two months. I thought it was terrible. Some times it's scary to see what humans can be capable of. It's a shame." She shook her head and her smile faltered for a brief moment. "I thought that the killer would be caught soon. I mean, people don't stand for that kind of thing. Something like that make folks work hard to bring the ones responsible to justice. And then there was another and another. You know all this, you're on the case. One morning, I'm making breakfast for Eugene and myself, like I always do on Saturday morning. I'm pouring coffee when he looks up from the paper to tell that there had been another murder. A married couple. Terrible, terrible how those two boys had to find them. Eugene goes on to read the article to me while I'm cooking, and he says the name of the couple: Rebecca and David Sheller. Well, I about had a heart attack. My daughter and Rebecca had gone through school together, of course she was Rebecca Roberts then. I was at the wedding. It was a beautiful service. White and purple everywhere. And then I know that you know that Rebecca and David had the sight. That bracelet that was found was a present I gave to her on her sweet sixteen. I had it engraved with her name and an old symbol that stood for mental fortitude.

"It broke my heart to see that they had fallen victim to that man. Now, Rebecca had taken a liking to me when she was little because I could help her. Since I'm like her. Like you, Detective Pezzini. She would come to me to learn how to understand what she had seen, and I tried to help her to not be so frightened by what she would see in her dreams. I had gone to my mother for the same kind of help. It felt so good to be helping some one. I went into social work soon after, just so I could have that feeling all the time . . . She was such a good girl. But life goes on, and we have to have along with it. So the next day, I got up and went to the store. Like I always do. Eugene and I went on with our routine, and everything was fine. But one day, I noticed this man. Where ever I went there was this strange feeling. Like there was some one watching me. Well, I got in my car and I went right down the street to the church. The man was still there, but he would go in the building. I got the impression that he was afraid of it. Which was fine by me. Eventually, he went away. I didn't see him for sometime. Then he'd pop up here and there. Then I started to have the dreams again. I hadn't had them in a few years. They were about the murders that had been going on. There was all this strange imagery, um, let's see: a man with . . . white hair, the people that have been killed, the man that had been following me, and crayons."

"Crayons?"

"Yes. I'll get back to that. I thought that it was simple paranoia. Then there was that photo that was in the paper from earlier this week. You know the one, where he tried to get that little girl and you saved the mother. That was very brave, by the way, young man. Who knows what could have happened with the water being so cold, and the the weather. My Great Uncle lost an arm to hypothermia and frost bite. You're very lucky. But back to the important part. I kept on having these dreams, and I finally said 'that's enough. I need to tell some one'. About the crayons: In my dreams things went backward. Not as in rewound, but more of an age thing. All the images went from oldest to youngest. There way always a child's voice saying he wanted to help the special people. The voice started out more mature than ended in a little boy's tone. I think that, well as if we didn't already know, there is something seriously wrong with this man. It's, how should I say this, it's like he's going back. In his mind. He understands how the world works, but at the same time he's a boy. A child. It's so hard to describe."

"I think I understand, Mrs. Cole."

"Thank you, Ms. Pezzini. He wants you, you know. He's looking for a way to get to you. So he can 'help' you. In more ways than one. He wants to show you that people like Detective McCartey are beneath you, no offense it's just what I picked up from him."

"None taken."

"And he thinks he'll help the world by killing him off. I needed to tell someone this before it had to go."

"Where are you going, Mrs. Cole? You-you need stick around. We can protect you better that way."

"Oh, dear." She smiled at Sara, "I'm afraid that won't be possible. You see, I'm next. I saw my end three nights ago. I've put all my affairs in order. I've said my good bye's. And I've told you what I know. My job is done."

"We can keep you safe from him, Mrs. Cole. I can put you in protective custody. He won't get to you."

"Sara, may I call you that? I'm not afraid of him. We all have to go some time. I just have a leg up on it."

"But-"

"I have the right to refuse. Now, I have to go get things for dinner." She stood and picked up her bag, "I wish you luck. And you," She pointed to Jake, "keep her safe. Good day."

Maggie walked out of the office. Sara got up to follow her, but Jake stopped her.

"Jake-"

"Shhhh. One way or another it'll happen, Pez. Let her go. We have work to do."

"But-"

"It's what she wants. One of two things will happen: we'll get this guy or we'll find Maggie Cole somewhere in the city. We can talk about it on the way."

"On the way where?"

"I thought we were going to my place."

"How can you be so acc-"

"She's accepted it Sara, and we can't do anything unless she gives us permission. Believe me, I don't want to see another person die like that."

Sara looked out her door to see if the woman had left. There was no sign of her. She watched the people outside of her office. Going along and doing their jobs. For a moment it didn't seem real. There was no sound. Everything was slower. Another one of the Witchblade's interfaces in her life. It was oddly comforting, in a morbid sort of way. She had just let a fellow human being go to what would probably be her death. There was a slight pressure on her shoulder and reality came rushing back. Her eyes met a pair of tired blue ones.

She didn't move.

Jake nodded his head and shut the door to their office.

* * * *

Well. The site is up and running again. I about died. Not being able to do anything. Then I went on vacation. Now I'm sitting here in my on campus apartment at Florida State University trying to catch up before tomorrow when classes start. A warning, by the way, when research paper time hits. don't expect to hear from me for a few weeks. But that won't be for a while. Thank god.

So. We get another season of Witchblade, huh? My fic, Mask and Mirror, was just an idea on how they might fix the time line. It was my first one-shot, too. I think it turned out all right.

Well, I have to go update my site.

Review the story.

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