Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Poltergeist the Legacy. This story is not meant to infringe upon the rights of any organisation holding an interest in the show. It's not meant for profit in any way.

Author's note: This is my take on how season 4 could have continued; I pick up where the last episode 'The Beast Within' left it.

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Prologue

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"Noooooooooooo, "

Alex's legs gave way from under her, her eyes never leaving the burning house, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Derek was still in there, he was in there and the house was on fire, he was dying, he was getting killed in there.

She couldn't believe this was happening, not after what they had shared not so long ago. A kiss, though that was not the most important of it all, Derek had finally opened up to her, he had shared his deepest feelings, his troubled emotions. Maybe, in the end he had known he wouldn't make it out alive, maybe he had known this was going to happen, and that hurt even more. Had he shared all of this because he knew they would never see each other again?

~

Nick ran closer to the burning house, the intense heat getting too strong to a certain point, and he knew he was too late, he couldn't get in there, did he even had a chance? Derek was probably blown to pieces. He glanced back to Alex, seeing the grief and shock on her face, Rachel trying to comfort her, although she was fighting her own tears. He glanced to his ring, the ring Derek gave him in full trust, to the son he never had. Would a son stay here, while his father, precept and boss was in there? He sighed wearily, and made his way to his car, that was severely damaged, but still standing. Popping the hood open, he grabbed a blanket that was draped over the machines he had installed in his trunk.

~

Rachel looked up suddenly, tearing her eyes away from her grieving friend, wondering where her youngest colleague was going. What was he doing? It was not until he dropped a heavy woollen blanket in the water of the small lake on Angel Island, wetting himself, wrapping the blanket over his prone body, covering him up, that she realised his intentions. He was going into the house! No, he wouldn't survive, the heat would kill him.

"Nick! Don't, it's not worth it, please!"

She begged him with her dark eyes, pleadingly looking at him, hoping he would listen for once, his stubbornness not winning this battle. His eyes darted from her to Alex, before he got his ready for action look on his face, the hazel eyes shifting to a deeper green. Ever so slowly he shook his head, indicating he knew what he was doing and just would get on with it. They shared a look, a look of goodbyes, hope, grief, and maybe even a little love, love as affectionate as siblings.

To Rachel it was only seconds, to Nick it lasted too long and he turned around, running into the flames, a hero to the rescue. She gasped, watching him go, a sob escaping her lips. Would she loose both her friends now? Would the dark side win this one, taking away the people she loved?

She soothingly stroked Alex's hair, trying to calm the young woman, who was obviously in a deep shock. Sirens started to wail, getting closer, heading for the disaster on the island.

~

Nick panted, the heat pressing against his chest, scorching the blanket, sweat streaming down his face and body. He made it to the basement, but couldn't get further, the entry blocked by what used to be a heavy stone wall.

"Derek? Are you in there? Can you hear me?"

No reply, only the noise of the flames, slowly digesting the house, roaring in what almost seemed deep content. He waited, his head tilted under the blanket, trying to catch a sound that may indicate Derek was still alive, and down there. The house groaned in reply, followed by what sounded like a sigh. The house was giving its last breath, a hint for Nick to get out of there. His eyes searched, looking for a way back to where he came from, but to find out he was surrounded by flames. Gasping and coughing, desperation getting the best of him, he backed away, accidentally bumping to a wooden closet, causing it to gave way from the weight, the burning wood falling over the young man. He screamed, the burning sensation of flesh being eaten away taken most of his consciousness, the sickening smell of his own flesh burning invading his nostrils. And he fell, landing on something soft. The last thing he registered was the memory of a mask looking down at him.