Author:  The Wanlorn

Title:  A World in a Grain of Sand 10a/?

Summary:  This is a sequel to "Every New Beginning…"

Rating:  PG13 for language

Spoilers:  I honestly don't know, so beware.

Distribution:  Ask, and ye shall receive.  Take without permission, then screw the Law of Three, I will cures you with the nefarious curse of…da da dum…WRITER'S BLOCK!!!!  BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

Disclaimer:  Same as all of the last times, so far.  The girl at the bar is mine.  Charles D. Simak owns Ring Around the Sun (which is a *really* good book).  The blonde vampire who comes to get the girl at the bar is not mine, but I refuse to tell you whom he is, because that wouldn't be any fun.  And the vampire at the bar that the girl is talking to is mine.  Jack is mine.

Chapter Ten

            Lacroix could sense his child entering the Raven.  He didn't kid himself - Nicholas wanted something.  No longer would he come for a mere social visit.  No longer does he come here much at all, he thought to himself, waiting for Nicholas to join him at the bar.

            He was not disappointed.  The blonde crusader purposefully crossed the short distance to the bar, taking the seat next to Lacroix.  He tried to determine his maker's mood, but met with no success, as usual.  The ancient vampire was as unreadable as ever.  Lacroix handed Nick a goblet of blood, and leaned back against the bar.  He looked around the club with the air of a king overlooking his realm.

            "Nicholas."  That single word was often all it took to start his son talking.  The name came out, not as a greeting, but as a derogatory word.  Old habits die hard.

            Nick played the quiet game for a little longer.  He was either going to throw Lacroix off balance or make him angry.  The benefits were well worth the risks.  Unfortunately for him (but oh so predictable), Lacroix knew what he was doing, and refused to fall for it.

            Finally, Nick spoke.  "What do you know of Abel Belasarius?"

            Lacroix was silent for a long time, sizing up Nicholas.  How much did his son know?  What would be profitable to tell him?  Nicholas seemed to have taken on another mortal pet, so perhaps it would be better to tell the truth, and tell everything.  Not, of course, without having some fun first.

            "What do you want to know?  He is not part of the community."

            "I know that.  Cut the bullshit, Lacroix.  Can you just give me a straight answer for once?"

            Because you would have been suspicious had I answered you straight, Lacroix thought, considering telling Nicholas that.  But that would no doubt have started a fight.  Although Lacroix enjoyed their battles, finding them invigorating, he would have to restrain himself due to his new strategy.  This was not a conversation to be had at the bar, anyway, due to the abundance of mortal around.  Nicholas' timing in discussing something to do with the community was, as usual, greatly lacking.  It was too early for the patrons to be mostly of the vampiric persuasion.  Did he suppose this would prevent a fight?

            Lacroix stood with his bloodwine in hand.  "Come with me to the back room."  He strode off without waiting to see if Nicholas would follow him.

            Nick sighed and followed his Master.  He had doped that the presence of mortals would not only give him a straight answer, but also help avoid a fight.  The back room was never a good thing.  He had timed his visit to be before the Nightcrawler monologue, hoping to avoid the back room.

            "What do you know about Abel Belasarius?" Nick asked again.  Although Lacroix sat, Nick chose to stand.  Natalie's speech to him came back (*"You're just like a teenage son with his father."*), making him wonder if his refusal to sit down was an act of rebellion.  Was he doing this just to piss Lacroix off?

            "I suppose you are here filled with righteous indignation over the depravity of vampires?" Lacroix began, slightly sarcastically.  "Abel Belasarius, a resistor.  Younger brother of Kane Belasarius, also a resistor.  They were granted temporary immunity from the Enforcers, for reasons unknown."

            "I think I've figured that all out already, Lacroix," Nick interrupted.  "Tell me something I don't know."

            "Well, Nicholas, I can't read your mind.  I'm trying to make sure to cover everything you might want to know."  And he was baiting Nicholas, of course.  Killing with kindness, so to speak.

            "Yes, you *can* read my mind, because *you* never taught me how to shut our link."  Wait, this was the baiting Natalie was talking about.  Good Lord, she was right.  Not that he was going to say that to Lacroix.

            The General fought back a sigh brought on by his recalcitrant son.  "No, he is not lying or mistaken.  There is a small group of vampires who find that blood tastes better if it's laced with pain, much similar to Francesca.  Kane generously allowed them to borrow his brother to sip from him."  He could see the question in Nick's eyes.  "Yes, I went once to make sure he wasn't a threat to the community.  Not exactly my… cup of tea, so to speak."

            "I'm surprised," Nick broke in sarcastically.  "I would think you would be right up there at the front of the line."

            "There is a difference," Lacroix said venomously, his eyes flashing in anger, "between disciplining a child and gratuitous torture.  Just because *you* fail to see the difference does not mean there is none.  Just because this is *my* community, does not mean that I have the right to dictate how individuals behave, as long as their behavior does not adversely affect the community."

            There was a long silence, each mulling over his own thoughts.

            There were few things in all the ages that LaCroix found truly evil.  Contrary to what most thought, there were things he would not do, things that made him sick to his stomach.  Not things that disgusted him - many things about mortals and vampires did that - but things that truly made him sick.  One of those things was rape.  A woman did have the right to say no.  The other thing was senseless torture.  If it was for information, or the victim was willing, that was different.  But if it was a poor, defenseless, weak mortal like that boy…that was cruel and depraved.  Not that LaCroix would ever admit that.

            Everyone knew he didn't have a heart.

            Nick surreptitiously watched his…father.  This change in LaCroix was scary to say the least.  This was a sign of the coming of the end of the world, he was sure.  The apocalypse of the ordered world he had was drawing nigh.  White was black, black was white, right was wrong, and wrong was right.

            "I suppose you want me to make it known throughout the community that he is now off limits," LaCroix said wearily, breaking the suffocating silence.

            Nick nodded warily, cautious because of LaCroix's seeming agreeability.  What did he want for payment?  LaCroix never did anything for free.

            "You do realize that they will not be happy about this, and will most likely attempt to make you see the error of your ways."  Even if it is pure foolishness, LaCroix added silently.

            "Why do you care?  I'm nothing but a disappointment to you anyway," Nick said bitterly.  Until he voiced that, he never realized how much it hurt that LaCroix could not accept him as he was.  How, even when he embraced 'his nature', he could not seem to please the ancient vampire.  Every thought of his was proving Natalie's insights correct.

            "Disappointed me many times, yes.  But there's a difference between that and *being* a disappointment."  LaCroix wasn't sure what to say without seeming too… humane.  Luckily, he was saved from having to add more by the clock.  "It's time for the Nightcrawler's monologue," he informed Nick.  "I have to go."

            Nick turned back at the door.  "But you'll spread the word?"

            "Yes, Nicholas, I will," LaCroix said exasperatedly.  "How long are you going to continue this foolishness?"

            "Into eternity," Nick shot back as he left.

            LaCroix sighed once he was sure Nick was out of hearing range.  He had actually put a prerecorded tape in, but speaking to Nicholas had given him an idea for a broadcast.  Of course, the main reason was that it meant Nick had to leave.  There were days when he greatly enjoyed beating the crap out of his wayward son.  But tonight wasn't one of them.

            Once he was in the soundproofed room, he slid into the swivel chair in front of the microphone.  When the song ended - a morose violin piece - he pressed 'Stop' on the tape player and turn on the mic.  Without preamble, he began.

            "The difference between right and wrong.  Is it a thin line or a fat band of gray?

            "Who dictates what is right and what is wrong?  Is it not just a matter of popular opinion?  Whatever the general public says, goes.  Personal opinions are of no consequence if they go opposite the majority.

            "How does that make you feel, my brethren of the night, to know that if you do not go along with the majority, no one cares.  If you are not one of the lemmings, running for the cliff, then you are considered incompetent, or an anarchist.

            "But what, good listeners, happens when opinions change?  Up until the mid-1800s, slavery was considered 'right' in the States.  It was considered moral.  And then, almost overnight, opinions changed and it became 'wrong'.  Imagine how the good people of the States felt.  What they had known as right and natural their whole life was suddenly wrong.  Single people, single lemmings, are often given credit with changing the public opinion.  They are give credit for deciding what is right and what is wrong.  Single people do not change public opinion.  *Good speakers* change public opinion, often insane ones.  It takes a good speaker to change wrong to right, or right to wrong.  You are all familiar with Adolf Hitler, I presume.

            "A finer talked, there never was.  He easily convinced the masses that it was okay to kill millions of people to help purify the human race.  To most of the rest of the world, he was considered wrong.  But to him and his people, he was right.  Who decides what is right and what is wrong?  Some detached god in the sky?  Or the people who it affects?

            "To the deserter, he is right.  He is saving his own hide.  But the people he deserts, to others on the side he deserts, he is wrong.  Who decided that personal gain is all right as long as it only hurts people no one cares about, but immediately becomes wrong once it hurts a good little lemming?

            "What is it like, my faithful listeners, to know that you are nothing but a lemming, running mindlessly for the cliff?  You do whatever everyone else does, you do as you are told.  Free will is nothing but an illusion, as is right and wrong.  It is an arbitrary decision.  All is an arbitrary decision, put into the hands of fools.

            "How do you feel about that, denizens of the night?  Call and tell me your fears, your worries.  The Nightcrawler will listen."

            He switched off the mic, talking aloud to himself.  "He'll listen, but he won't care."

~~~~{@

            LaCroix turned off all of the equipment in his private sound booth and left the small space.  It was still early enough that the club would be filled, but now the clientele would be mostly vampires.  The small group that needed to be informed of Nicholas' new foolishness might be out there, sipping on bloodwine before going out for a little sport.  He did not think Nick understood how angry this foursome was going to be when their toy was taken away.

            As he entered the loud club, his sharp ears were immediately struck by the sound of a *very* mortal heartbeat, one he did not recognize.  He quickly located the owner of the heartbeat sitting at the bar, arguing with Miklos.  LaCroix stood within hearing range, looking over the mortal.  She was a young, overweight girl with shoulder-length curly brown hair.  Her heart was much healthier than it should have been, looking at her.  The younger vampires were eyeing her as a potential meal, but she seemed oblivious to that.

            "But why not?" she asked exasperatedly.

            LaCroix could tell that Miklos was getting annoyed, and wondered how long the girl had been in here.  After 'mortal hours', any mortal, no matter what age, who wandered into the club was allowed in as fair game for a meal.  That explained why she was in there.  But if she was a pain in the ass, why had Miklos not thrown her out?

            "Because it's illegal," the bartender answered patiently.

            "So, you're telling me that if someone brought across a child, you won't serve them bloodwine until they're twenty-one?  Or whatever the legal age is here?"

            LaCroix blinked.  She knew of the community.  Interesting.  Perhaps this was the child Vachon and Tracy had spoken of.

            "That's different," Miklos replied.  "The law makes no reference to vampires."

            "But it makes no reference to not making reference to vampires.  Evidence by there being no evidence.  All I'm asking for is a Wild Turkey.  Is that not at all possible?"

            Miklos shook his head silently, and the girl sighed melodramatically.

            "Fine.  Can I have a Shirley Temple?"  Within seconds, Miklos set one in front of her.  "Can I get a shot of vodka in it?"

            "Not a chance," Miklos said, glancing at LaCroix.

            "D'Arvitt.  All I want is a bit of frellin' alcohol," she grumbled.  She turned to the young vampire next to her, sipping on her drink.  "Yeah, so, anyways.  Theoretically, time travel is possible, as is changing the past."

            LaCroix's ears perked up at this.  Seeing Nick with Natalie painfully reminded him of what he could have had with Fleur.  He could threaten Nick all he wanted, but, in truth, he could not put his son through the torture he went through, missing her.  He knew this child was talking nonsense, but still…

            "Take Einstein's Theory of Relativity, for example.  Basically, he said that the faster you are traveling, the slower time goes for you.  Once you reach the speed of light, time stops altogether."

            "But didn't Einstein also say that it was therefore impossible to reach the speed of light?" the vampire interrupted.  She was a pretty little thing, who looked to have actual brains in her head.

            "Sure, but how many things once considered impossible have happened?  The trick is to find a way to create enough propulsion to make a craft go *faster* than the speed of light.  That will start time running backwards.  So, yes, as of now, that is impossible because mortals and immortal alike are so frellin' stupid.  Someday, though… that kind of time travel will be possible."

            "But that would mean time travel *is* impossible, at least for now."

            "No, just that particular method is.  However, there is another way.  Have you ever heard of string theory?"

            The young vampire shook her head.  LaCroix, too, shook his head slightly.  He had the funniest feeling that the girl, even though she could not know of his presence, was speaking to him. That was utter foolishness, of course.  The feeling, however, was reinforced when she turned her head and unerringly met his eyes.  After less than half a second, she turned back to her conversation.

            "All right.  String Theory.  I'm pretty sure that's what they call this theory, but I might be wrong.  What it is is that there are an infinite number of worlds in parallel dimensions.  There's a world for every single choice ever made."

            "Like… there's a man driving a car who comes to an intersection.  In World A he continues on straight, in World B he goes to the right, in World C he goes to the left, in World D he turns around and goes home because he realizes he left the oven on."

            "And in World E, his car breaks down.  Exactly!  So, it is quite possible to move from this world to one of the parallel ones.  In doing so, you can choose when and where you want to land.  It's merely a matter of finding the rope to pull so the trapdoor opens."

            "Sort of like Ring Around the Sun."

            "Sort of, but not really.  That's a whole different kind of time travel."

            LaCroix saw a blonde vampire enter the Raven.  He did not…feel right.  His silver eyes immediately sought out the mortal.  Taking a roundabout route, he came to stand a couple feet behind her, staying out of sight.

            "And so, that is that version."  Her voice changed slightly, obviously aimed at the vampire behind her.  "If you're going to try and sneak up on me, don't do it while there are people around who will give you away with their eyes.  You win this round."  She spoke to the young vampire again.  "It was really nice talking to you.  It's refreshing to find someone with a brain in their head."

            "So wait!" the young female vampire exclaimed.  "You know how to open the door?"

            "That depends," the girl shot back over her shoulder as she walked out with the blonde vampire.

            LaCroix quickly followed them out, keeping within listening distance.  He wanted to know where this girl lived, in case she wasn't just talking bullshit.  And he didn't recognize the vampire she was with as part of the community.

            "New rule, little one," he heard the vampire say.  "No going somewhere that puts you in danger."

            "New rule," she retorted.  "Any rules made within the last five minutes don't count."

            "Which cancels yours."

            "Which puts it back in effect because it doesn't exist therefore it can."

            "Which cancels it again."

            "And so on and so on, and infinitum.  So from the stress, the rulebook explodes, so there are no rules."

            "Humor me, M'ija.  Nowhere that puts you in danger."

            "It's more likely that I would have staked anyone who decided to act on the hungry stares they were all giving me."

            Ah, so she wasn't totally oblivious.  Extremely cocky, though.  LaCroix rounded the corner, intent on catching up and questioning the child, giving in to rarely felt impatience.  He could see them ahead of him, walking along, the vampire's arm around the teen's waits.  Then, they literally disappeared into thin air.  He raced to the spot, searching fort hem.  It was impossible, but they were gone.

            Nicholas had his ridiculous quest for mortality.  LaCroix had his futile quest to regain Fleur.

~~~~{@

            Abel glanced nervously at the clock behind the counter.  Two of two.  He had two more minutes of relative safety.  Then, he had to go out, and they would be there, waiting for them.  Natalie had promised to take car of it, but she wouldn't.  There was nothing in it for her.  One more minute left.

            The door jangled open and shut.  Abel's head jerked up, but it was only Jack.

            "Hey Abe, how's it been?" the jovial man asked.  He was the son of the owner.

            "Slow night," Abel replied evenly.  Thirty seconds.

            "Aren't they all?  I don't get why Da keeps the place open all night.  Must be because he can get us two to work it for cheap."

            Abel smiled slightly.  "Sure."

            "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow night.  Same time, same place, right?"  He grinned widely.

            "Yeah.  G'night."

            "See ya later, Abe."

            Abel forced himself to walk over and open the door.  There was nothing he could do about his lot in life.  Why bother trying to change it?  He was on his own as always.  He could even hear them talking, cruel laughter filling the air.

            "Knight thinks he can stop us…"

            "Why does he bother with mortals?  We are *superior* to them - we have the right to do what we want with them."

            "Hell, yeah.  We're the butchers, and they the cattle."

            "Everyone knows he wants to *be* one of them again.  Is the pathetic thing still drinking steer?"

            "No, I heard he switched back to human."

            "So, what are we going to do with the little shit since he obviously told Knight?"

            "D'unno know, yet.

            "But it's gonna be good.  He'll wish he were dead."

            There was a burst of malicious laughter, then they caught sight of Abel.

            "What?" one of them said caustically.  "You thought that pathetic weakling of a vampire could help you?  Get over here, b-" He was suddenly slammed against the wall by an arm attached to the body of Lucien LaCroix.

            "Do not speak to my son like that," he said viciously.  "Even on steer, he could beat you to a bloody pulp if he so desired."

            "He still does not have the right to dictate what we do," one of them said defiantly, foolishly.

            LaCroix dropped the one he was holding up against the wall and turned on that one.  "He has the right to put a mortal under his protection.  Which means he is also under mine."  His eyes spit fire at the four young vampires.  "If you touch the boy again, you will answer to me."  He paused for a long moment, waiting.  They just watched him, silently.  When had he lost the respect of the community?  Young vampires these days were too cocky, too arrogant.  "I suggest you leave," he warned the quartet ominously.

            It seemed as if that was all they had been waiting for - permission.  They were gone in a flash, speeding out of there as fast as they could.  LaCroix turned and regarded Abel silently.  They boy was cowering in the shadows, the ripe stench of fear rolling off of him.

            "Go home, boy, and be glad Nicholas is a fool."  LaCroix disappeared into the night.

            Abel slid slowly down the wall to sit on the dirty pavement.  She had actually done it for him.  It had stopped for now, but how long would it last?  And if Nick was a vampire, did that mean he just wanted him for himself?  Perhaps he didn't want to share.  But it would be better to be used by one than by four or five.

            Home.  For once, home had a relatively nice ring to it.  It did not bring immediate connotations of fear and pain.  They were going to make him leave, probably soon.  But for now, it was… home.

~~~~{@

            "So, it's not all that bad, so far," Natalie concluded.  "We're just 'getting to know each other'."

            "Irina's always been the best," Nick said, nuzzling her cheek as they sat in front of the fire.  She had asked him to find someone as soon as possible, before she changed her mind.  When given the choice between mortal or vampire, she had surprisingly chosen a member of the community.  So, he had called up Irina, a spry Russian he had met during the cold war.  She had even managed to fit Natalie in tonight as a special favor to him.  He was glad she had moved to Toronto in the recent past, and contacted him to tell him of her whereabouts.

            Nick nuzzled her neck again, kissing the big vein there.  The scent of the cinnamon-blood flowing through her veins was intoxicating to him.  Natalie murmured and turned her head, meeting his questing lips with her own.  Unabashedly, she caressed his fangs until they dropped.

            Nick pulled away, and she stifled a whimper of disappointment.  He rubbed his cheek against hers, whispering into her ear.

            "Forgive me for my utter lack of romance, love, but I have deprived myself of you for *far* too long.  If that's okay."

            "Bring it on, Crusader knight," she whispered huskily.  "Don't you dare stop there."  She agreeably allowed him to carry her up the stairs to their bedroom, kissing and licking the big vein on his neck - erogenous zone number two on a vampire.

~~~~{@

            "Oh God, Nat, I'm sorry," he murmured, hugging her sweat-slicked body close to him.  "The road to Hell is paved with my good intentions," he said miserably.

            Natalie turned her head ad kissed his neck.  "I love you, Nick.  It's okay.  You did what you thought was best."

            He drew out of her regretfully.  "I'm sorry," he repeated, cuddling her closer to him.

            "Well, you've been forgiven, so don't start feeling guilty about that."  Natalie rolled off of him, but still snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as she wiped the tears off her face.

            Nick kissed her temple, marveling once more over how well they fit together, in every way.  He could not believe his luck in finding her, in finally not repeating history.  Too soon, far too soon, he heard the lift starting up, meaning Abel was back.

            Natalie tilted her head up slightly and kissed him lightly.  "I'm getting into the shower," she said.  "Love you."

            "I love you too," Nick replied, watching her tight butt as she sashayed into the attached bathroom.  That was almost enough to get him excited again.

            Instead, he got up and put his clothes back on.  He considered going and joining her in the shower.  That would be nice… but not today.  He may have endless recuperative abilities, but she did not.  So, he made his way downstairs.  Abel was putting his key in his suitcase, which still leaned by the couch.  Nick was struck by how neat and compact everything was.  One could barely tell that anyone was living on the couch.  His blankets were folded neatly on one end, his pillow on top.  Everything he owned was in his suitcase, nothing was out lying around anywhere.  It was kind of scary.

            Abel looked up when Nick reached the bottom of the stairs.  "Thank you," he said quietly, the simple words backed by every fiber of his being.

            Nick smiled, glad his Master had acted on his wishes.  "You're welcome," he replied.  Perhaps he should take advantage of LaCroix's newfound generosity.  If only he could think of a way…

(A/N:  The Playstation faerie visited me room!  The Playstation faerie visited me room!  I go in to get my clipboard so I can work on this while watching 'Farscape', and there was a Playstation on my bed!  Yay!)

(P/A/N:  If you want the unedited version, email me at Mystra1215@hotmail.com and I'll email to you, okee?)