A/N: Hope everyone's still with me and not too confused or annoyed with my flow. I know I've created a lot of questions, but don't worry, even some of the stranger and seemingly insignificant stuff that's happened will be tied into the story eventually. So buckle up and hold on…cause we ain't done yet.
Chapter 18: Lull
Ian climbed up Sara's fire escape as he had done so many times before. 'But it would be different this time,' he told himself, 'because she won't be there.' He sighed as he reached the window and gazed into the empty apartment, 'and she won't be coming.'
He had driven around the city after leaving Dr. Immo to tend to his father, searching for the slightest trace of her essence. But he had found nothing, not even his car; the locater Irons had placed in it removed or not working. It was as if she had just up and vanished into thin air and he was pretty sure he knew who was responsible.
Back at the Cornea, Genesis' room had been abandoned, and anything that might have given hint to his current whereabouts had been burned to ashes in the garbage can.
Stepping through the window he closed his eyes as he caught her scent. It clung to all her things, subtle and yet overpowering all at once. If he tried really hard he could almost imagine her there in front of him, throwing her jacket onto the couch and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"What do you want Nottingham?" she asked angrily.
He slowly opened his eyes dismayed to find that it had been he himself who spoke the words and not the vision of Sara he had imagined and was now fading into the darkness of the kitchen.
He had failed her. The words echoed through his skull, and resounded in his heart. If it had been painful to remain apart from her, to forever be resigned to skulking in her shadows. Then to not see… or smell…. or sense her at all… was unbearable.
He picked up a delicate negligee off the corner of her bed holding it close to his face, breathing in her scent. Normally she had worn a simple tank top and underwear to sleep, but after meeting Conchobar she had decided to add to her wardrobe. Ian remembered her standing in front of her full length mirror, her hands on her hips, her head slightly bent. She had pinned her hair up in anticipation of a bath, and a few strands hung loosely curled around her neck. He remembered the slight flush that had risen on her face as she realized the sheerness of the material. It had left nothing to Ian's ample imagination.
His breath caught on a sob, as he realized that his imagination and meager memories were now all he would ever have. Sinking to the floor at the foot of her bed, he lowered his head finally allowing himself to succumb to the tears he was unable to shed in front of his father.
"Hey Sara, it's Gabriel, you're not gonna believe the dream I had today. It involved you, Ancient Japan and a… certain piece of jewelry. Have I peaked your interest? Cause lemme tell you it was definitely hell'a weird. And relax, you kept all your clothes on. Anyway, I looked up some stuff that had to do with it and I wanted to show it to you when you have a minute. Give me a call when you get a chance 'kay. Lates. Bye.
Gabriel hung up the phone, and turned back to the computer. The stuff he'd dug up on this Tomoe Gozen was pretty interesting, but he still didn't understand what it all had to do with him, or how the witchblade had even been able to connect with him in the first place.
Glancing over at the television, he noticed a very agitated man being interviewed on the news. Picking up the remote he un-muted the volume.
"…it's coming man, I mean you heard it, as clearly as I did."
"Heard what exactly" asked the reporter
"The scream" snapped the man. "Like the horn that signals the coming of the apocalypse." He started pacing back and forth, pointing at various people who were milling around. "It's time man…it's time" he said. "Time to recant…to repent and beg for mercy. Death will look upon us all and we shall be judged man…all of us." The camera panned back to the reporter ,
"Well there you have it folks another eye witness account about the mysterious noise that echoed across the city this afternoon. Dozens of people have been calling into the station, each to give their version of what they heard…but at this point we have no official word of any type of problem in the city. Some officials believe it was from a water pipe burst that happened underground just a few blocks north of here, but there has been no final word yet on whether or not that is the case. In possibly related news meteorologists here at Channel 7 are sending out a winter storm advisory. The city is looking to receive anywhere from 3 to 10 ft of snow and are advising everyone to…"
Gabriel muted the TV again. He had heard this "scream" as well and had reasonably assumed that it was just thunder. "They'll try and make something out of anything" he said turning back to his computer. "This just in…we're still stupid."
"I told you, you were loud" said Jake motioning to the news with his head.
"I'm not loud" murmured Vicky, intensely enjoying the foot massage Jake was giving her, "I'm just enthusiastic."
"I'll say" Jake whispered under his breath.
Vicky whipped a pillow at his side of the couch, and it hit Jake square in the face.
"Hey" he wined, "did you forget that I'm injured here."
"How could I forget?" said Vicky, in her best soothe the baby voice. "The boo boos are all over your face."
"Well you're a doctor aren't you?" said Jake. "Why don't you prescribe something?"
Vicky smiled and crawled over into his lap. Kissing him lightly on the cheek she asked "How's that?"
"Gee I don't know' said Jake still pouting.
Vicky kissed the other cheek. "How about that?"
"…pretty good…I guess."
She took his face in her hands and softly feathered her lips against his.
"Vic?" whispered Jake.
"Mm Hmm" she mumbled, nuzzling the skin behind his ear.
"I think I'm gonna need a higher dosage."
Vicky laughed and gave her patient what he wanted. Inside she hoped Sara would still be a while, or even not come at all. The discussion about her stalker/friend could wait till tomorrow…or the next day…or the next.
Irons sat quietly in an armchair by the window. For the first time in many years he felt the condition of his advanced years. 'Old' he said to himself, 'old and confused' he slowly rubbed his aching temples. 'Which I suppose is quite normal, for a man of my age.' He sipped the herbal tea, Immo had suggested would relax him, knowing it would be the sedative the good doctor had slipped into it that would calm him as opposed to the actual jasmine.
'What had happened to Sara?' was the question running through his head. 'Had the blade truly abandoned her… a true wielder? Was she indeed dead? Her body left to rot in some dark alley, her name added to the city's list of unsolved mysteries.' He stared unfocused through the sitting room window. Unfortunately his connection to Ms. Pezzini had been through the blade alone and while he could still sense the jeweled bracelet's power, he was unable to feel her presence at all.
A servant entered the room and whispered something into Kenneth's ear.
"How long has he been down there?"
"About 4 hours sir."
"Send him to me"
"Sir I…"
"At least try not to show your fear Wesley" said Irons turning away from him. "He will not hurt you…most likely."
Wesley gulped nodded to Mr. Irons and left the room.
Less then 10 minutes later Nottingham entered, the only tell tale sign the quiet squeak of the sitting room door as it opened and closed.
Kenneth looked over at him, and was reminded of the past; when Ian was still a child and their relationship was still very much father and son instead of …master and servant.
He was still covered in sweat from the long "work-out " he had inflicted upon himself, his hair having freed itself from it's elastic hanging about his shoulders. 'Only yesterday he would never have appeared in my presence so un-kept,' thought Kenneth.
"Are you attempting to punish yourself?" he asked.
"No" said Ian, not raising his head.
"Work off some steam, vent your frustrations?"
Ian did not answer.
"What then?" asked Kenneth. "Why do you train like a man possessed, when I am in no foreseeable danger…and you no longer have a wielder to protect."
The words had their desired effect. Ian briefly raised his head his eyes flashing with anger. But he lowered it again as he spoke.
"I am readying myself."
Irons rubbed the back of his scarred hand slowly. "For what?"
It came as barely a whisper, in fact had Kenneth not been looking directly at him, he would have thought nothing was said at all. "Revenge," breathed Ian.
Kenneth turned away from him and closed his eyes. "Listen to me Ian……son……Sara is gone, but the blade remains, it cannot be simply blinked out of existence…we need to press on, to find it before…"
"I can't" interrupted Ian. Irons opened his eyes. "I can't just move on…and forget her. I am not like you father…I can't just find her body and place it in some frozen shri…" He stopped, struggling for self control.
"Well go on Ian" said Irons coldly. "I sense there is much more you wish to say."
Ian was silent, knowing better than to grab at his father's bait.
But surprisingly enough Kenneth's voice softened 'It was more than an infatuation' he thought. 'Though I suppose I should not be surprised…given what he is to her.'
"Because you loved her…" he said quietly, "I will allow you to go on."
Ian looked up, wary of the offer, and yet too devastated from his loss to pass it up. "This could have been prevented" he hissed. "This did not have to happen."
"You believe this my fault?" said Irons, "and yet you train for revenge on him not me."
"You should have let me tell her."
"That the blade was unstable?"
"Yes" said Ian. "That the sleepwalking and missing time was a result of this, that the accident was a result of this." He turned towards him. "Father I am… desolate, I feel…" Ian struggled for the word.
"Forsaken..." said Kenneth softly.
Ian stepped closer to Irons and knelt by his chair. "I am at a loss…of what to do…"
Irons placed his hand on Ian's head. "Have I not always guided you? Pointed out your path?"
Ian lowered his head. "Yes."
"This will not change Ian, I alone know what is best for you. You will have your revenge my son, but first we must find this Genesis and the witchblade. Come to understand this power he had over the wielder and indeed what has happened to her."
Ian's back straightened as years of discipline once again reasserted itself in his mind.
"Bring him to me Ian," said Irons. Ian stood and nodded slightly. "Alive please," he added. "Though I suppose wounded is acceptable."
Ian left the room determined. Genesis was a powerful man, his ability to overpower the wielder a sure sign of that fact. But nothing in the universe is more powerful than desire. And Ian's desire was growing exponentially by the minute. Watchers all over the world were sensing it's vibration and hurrying to brace for the coming impact.
Lazar looked out the window of his shop, the local news was calling for the storm of the century. Sighing he shook his head, "They have no idea."