A/N Thank you all for the reviews, of both this version and the slash one!
N.B., I reiterate, no slash in this version. :-)
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"Father Michael?" Tallander snapped, when the landlady had left them to usher the priest upstairs. "Who is he?"
Was it Van Helsing's imagination, or did Tallander sound worried?
"He's a priest," the monster hunter replied, evenly.
"I gathered that," replied Tallander, regaining his composure. "Why is he here? How is he connected to you?"
There seemed little point in lying. "Father Michael has been sent here to help me in my mission."
"Destroying me?" Tallander looked amused. "And will he do it?"
Van Helsing did not reply. He had received a note from Michael when the young Irishman had arrived at Dover, but with everything that had happened he had completely forgotten it. Michael had assured Van Helsing that he had no intention of harming Carl, who was, he said, his best friend in the Vatican. Van Helsing was surprised at the depth of the relief he felt, knowing Michael was here and on his side – on Carl's side. He had almost always worked alone in the past, but this was so much different to everything he had experienced.
A footstep on the stairs was quickly followed by Father Michael's arrival in the room. He looked tired and anxious, as though he had not slept properly in some time, and his gaze fixed immediately upon Tallander. He crossed himself.
"Oh, dear God...Carl..."
Tallander's reaction was striking, the expression on his face a mixture of fury, disbelief, and, Van Helsing could have sworn, alarm...then it was gone, and the creature was smiling his dreadful, sickly smile again.
"Pleased to meet you, Father."
"I wish I could say the same...Father."
"And have you met the great Van Helsing, here?" Tallander asked, still smiling. Michael stared back levelly.
"Of course. I know Van Helsing well," he held out his hand to the monster hunter, who had been watching the exchange with interest, and some confusion.
"Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Van Helsing. I was a little overwhelmed..." he shot Tallander a pained look. Van Helsing understood entirely – seeing that awful expression cross Carl's gentle, deceptively innocent face had hurt him too, in ways he had never imagined possible.
Tallander sat on the bed, strangely silent, while Van Helsing offered Michael a drink. He accepted a glass of somewhat murky water and sat down, leaning close to Van Helsing to ask in a low voice,
"What...what exactly has that thing done to Carl? Has he harmed you?"
Van Helsing looked away for a moment, debating how to answer. There was no point in telling Michael about his failed bargain with Tallander, and he felt no particular need to unburden himself on that topic.
"Tallander doesn't feel physical pain – he's injured Carl twice, to prove a point. I can't get at him," frustration welled up; Van Helsing was almost shouting, "for fear of harming Carl."
Michael was silent for a moment, looking across at Tallander, who was listening to their conversation. "Get out," he said, briskly. Tallander glared at him.
"Why should I? Why don't you piss off to your own room, cretin?"
Michael glanced at Van Helsing. "Perhaps we should discuss the situation in my room. It's next door...we would hear Tallander if he tried to leave."
"Where would I go?" asked Tallander, sulkily. "Get lost, both of you. I haven't had a moment's peace for myself since I possessed this wretched little friar."
Van Helsing and Michael stepped next door. Michael's room was as small and dirty as the other.
"He's different," Van Helsing said, in a low voice. "He seems...angry. He wasn't like this before."
"Seems to have taken a dislike to me," said Michael, lightly.
"Why? Do you have any idea?" was it something they could use?
"None at all...perhaps because I'm a priest?"
"Perhaps," murmured Van Helsing, thoughtfully. That look on Tallander's face...as though he'd seen a ghost...
Van Helsing turned back to Michael. Perhaps the young man could bring a fresh perspective to the situation, maybe even suggest a course of action.
"Any ideas?" the monster hunter asked. "Because I'm fresh out of them."
Father Michael did not answer for a moment. He gazed at the floor, chewing his lip, as though screwing up his courage. Then he raised his head and said quietly,
"You know what we have to do."
Van Helsing felt as though his blood had turned to ice in his veins. He had expected an ally – surely Michael could not be suggesting what he seemed to be?
"You said you had no intention of harming him!"
"That was before I saw him." Father Michael spoke sadly, but with a ring of conviction in his voice. "You have to face the truth, Van Helsing – Carl is gone. All that remains is to destroy the thing that killed him while we still can."
"No!" Van Helsing was on his feet now, eyes blazing, all his anger and frustration and fear welling up inside him until he thought his heart would explode from it. Father Michael – whom Van Helsing had always thought to be a timid man – did not flinch.
"I won't give up," Van Helsing growled. "Carl is still in there, still alive. I know he is."
"How do you know?"
"I've spoken to him."
"Tallander is clever, and a good actor. He knows all there is to know about Carl, the way he thinks and behaves. They're integrated now – to an extent, Tallander is Carl. Of course he can impersonate him."
"You seem to know an awful lot about this," Van Helsing snapped.
"Cardinal Jinette briefed me before I..."
"I don't care what you think you know, and I don't want your advice if all it amounts to is murdering an innocent man. I'm no murderer!"
"Is that so?" murmured Michael. "Then why do they call you a murderer over several continents, Van Helsing? Why are you wanted by the police in every major city in Europe?"
Something in that tone...that quiet, melodious voice saying things that cut into Van Helsing like a knife...saying them so calmly...it reminded him of Tallander. And suddenly he was suspicious of this apparently virtuous priest.
"Why are you so eager to destroy him?" Van Helsing demanded. "Why not wait – find an alternative?"
"Don't you understand the pain Carl must be suffering? The only way to save his soul is to destroy his body before Tallander takes complete control."
"You said he had!" Van Helsing was triumphant.
"I said nothing of the kind," but there was a flash of anger in Michael's eyes.
"You implied it. You said that Carl and Tallander were 'integrated', one person."
"I may be wrong."
"You're saying anything you can to get me to kill him, aren't you? Why?"
Michael gazed at the floor for a moment.
"You don't have to kill him, though if you really are his friend, you would choose to. I will spare you the burden, Van Helsing." He rose to his feet, but Van Helsing blocked his path with one powerful arm.
"Don't touch him," he growled.
"You fool! You have no idea what Tallander is capable of!"
"And you do. Tell me – and at the same time, you can tell me who you are, because you are most definitely not Father Michael."
The young man glared defiantly at Van Helsing – and his eyes were not the eyes of youth. They were cold, angry, but filled with a depth of experience and wisdom no one of Michael's age could ever hope to possess. They glittered now as they fell upon the monster hunter.
"Your love for Carl is admirable, Van Helsing, as is your bravery. And indeed his – I have never known anyone hold out against Tallander for so long."
"He is still alive, then," Van Helsing sat down heavily.
"There would be no point in my trying to deceive you; as long as there was a chance your friend lived, you would not harm Tallander, nor allow me to do it. All I can do is try to reason with you. Tallander is death, Van Helsing, and his power, if he is allowed to regain his full strength, would be considerable – and terrible. He will visit suffering on the world that even you cannot imagine. That must not happen. Surely one man's life is not too high a price to prevent it?"
Van Helsing could not look at the other man. "What will he do?"
Michael sat down on the bed. "He is trying to recover his former power by drawing on the strength of his unholy congregation – they whose bodies lie in the ground around the ruined church. Two hundred years ago, Tallander was prevented from completing this task – now he is making a second attempt. If he succeeds, he will be stronger than ever before. He will rally people to his dark banner, as he did before – good people, people of God, whom he will subvert to his will and sacrifice upon his unholy altar to add to his power. Once it begins, it will be near impossible to stop him. We must destroy him now, Van Helsing, while he is still vulnerable to the weapons of mortal men. We have no choice. I am sorry about your friend – but he would understand, and would want you to do this. I know it."
Van Helsing closed his eyes briefly. Michael was right. Carl would never want him to sacrifice thousands of people to save one life. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at the priest.
"Who are you?" Knowing the answer.
"My name is Reicher," the man replied, quietly.
"You took possession of Father Michael's body. Why?"
"So I could communicate with you...and so that I can destroy Tallander, as is my duty and my right. He thought he had destroyed me, years ago, when he entered my soul and tried to burn it from within. But I left the shell of my body behind, and travelled even as he did – it was the only way I could survive, and until my task is done, I cannot rest. I do not regret the lives I have taken in order to maintain my existence; they are casualties of a war they could not comprehend."
"Then you are the same as him," Van Helsing said coldly. "A killer. A demon."
"I am neither!" Reicher snapped back. "I serve a higher cause, Van Helsing – just as you profess to."
"I profess nothing. I go where I'm sent."
"And you were sent here, to rid the world of a monster greater than any you have faced before. And you say you cannot do it – are you such a coward, Van Helsing? I have offered to complete your mission for you. You would not even have to see him; I would return the body to you for burial, afterwards, if you wished."
There was silence for a long moment. Reicher watched Van Helsing eagerly, his eyes glittering with triumph, with the knowledge that he had won. Eventually, Van Helsing spoke.
"If you so much as touch him," he half-whispered, "I'll kill you. Understood?" he got up and left the room, leaving Reicher staring after him, furious and disbelieving.
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Van Helsing paced the corridor, filled with a furious energy he could not contain, while at the same time struggling against despair. Reicher was right in that he had never faced anything like this before. Two beings – two demons – each trying in their own way to destroy the man who meant more to Van Helsing than anyone and anything else in his life –Carl was the only real friend he had. He could not allow it to happen.
The door behind him slammed, and he turned sharply. Reicher was standing at the top of the stairs.
"I'm going for a walk," he said simply. "You need time to think. Use my room. I doubt Tallander will try to escape – he is waiting for the ritual to be ready."
"And when will that be?"
"Tomorrow night is the two hundredth anniversary of Tallander's first attempt – and the anniversary of my corporeal death. He has a fondness for that kind of poetic aptness."
"I see."
"You have until tomorrow to make your decision. Good night." Michael disappeared down the stairs. Van Helsing leaned back against the wall, his head swimming. Tomorrow night. He had twenty-four hours. And then...then he would do what he must, despite his anger, despite his fear. If he could not reach Carl and find a way to save him...Van Helsing would kill him.
It was his duty, and his right.
"Father Michael?" Tallander snapped, when the landlady had left them to usher the priest upstairs. "Who is he?"
Was it Van Helsing's imagination, or did Tallander sound worried?
"He's a priest," the monster hunter replied, evenly.
"I gathered that," replied Tallander, regaining his composure. "Why is he here? How is he connected to you?"
There seemed little point in lying. "Father Michael has been sent here to help me in my mission."
"Destroying me?" Tallander looked amused. "And will he do it?"
Van Helsing did not reply. He had received a note from Michael when the young Irishman had arrived at Dover, but with everything that had happened he had completely forgotten it. Michael had assured Van Helsing that he had no intention of harming Carl, who was, he said, his best friend in the Vatican. Van Helsing was surprised at the depth of the relief he felt, knowing Michael was here and on his side – on Carl's side. He had almost always worked alone in the past, but this was so much different to everything he had experienced.
A footstep on the stairs was quickly followed by Father Michael's arrival in the room. He looked tired and anxious, as though he had not slept properly in some time, and his gaze fixed immediately upon Tallander. He crossed himself.
"Oh, dear God...Carl..."
Tallander's reaction was striking, the expression on his face a mixture of fury, disbelief, and, Van Helsing could have sworn, alarm...then it was gone, and the creature was smiling his dreadful, sickly smile again.
"Pleased to meet you, Father."
"I wish I could say the same...Father."
"And have you met the great Van Helsing, here?" Tallander asked, still smiling. Michael stared back levelly.
"Of course. I know Van Helsing well," he held out his hand to the monster hunter, who had been watching the exchange with interest, and some confusion.
"Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Van Helsing. I was a little overwhelmed..." he shot Tallander a pained look. Van Helsing understood entirely – seeing that awful expression cross Carl's gentle, deceptively innocent face had hurt him too, in ways he had never imagined possible.
Tallander sat on the bed, strangely silent, while Van Helsing offered Michael a drink. He accepted a glass of somewhat murky water and sat down, leaning close to Van Helsing to ask in a low voice,
"What...what exactly has that thing done to Carl? Has he harmed you?"
Van Helsing looked away for a moment, debating how to answer. There was no point in telling Michael about his failed bargain with Tallander, and he felt no particular need to unburden himself on that topic.
"Tallander doesn't feel physical pain – he's injured Carl twice, to prove a point. I can't get at him," frustration welled up; Van Helsing was almost shouting, "for fear of harming Carl."
Michael was silent for a moment, looking across at Tallander, who was listening to their conversation. "Get out," he said, briskly. Tallander glared at him.
"Why should I? Why don't you piss off to your own room, cretin?"
Michael glanced at Van Helsing. "Perhaps we should discuss the situation in my room. It's next door...we would hear Tallander if he tried to leave."
"Where would I go?" asked Tallander, sulkily. "Get lost, both of you. I haven't had a moment's peace for myself since I possessed this wretched little friar."
Van Helsing and Michael stepped next door. Michael's room was as small and dirty as the other.
"He's different," Van Helsing said, in a low voice. "He seems...angry. He wasn't like this before."
"Seems to have taken a dislike to me," said Michael, lightly.
"Why? Do you have any idea?" was it something they could use?
"None at all...perhaps because I'm a priest?"
"Perhaps," murmured Van Helsing, thoughtfully. That look on Tallander's face...as though he'd seen a ghost...
Van Helsing turned back to Michael. Perhaps the young man could bring a fresh perspective to the situation, maybe even suggest a course of action.
"Any ideas?" the monster hunter asked. "Because I'm fresh out of them."
Father Michael did not answer for a moment. He gazed at the floor, chewing his lip, as though screwing up his courage. Then he raised his head and said quietly,
"You know what we have to do."
Van Helsing felt as though his blood had turned to ice in his veins. He had expected an ally – surely Michael could not be suggesting what he seemed to be?
"You said you had no intention of harming him!"
"That was before I saw him." Father Michael spoke sadly, but with a ring of conviction in his voice. "You have to face the truth, Van Helsing – Carl is gone. All that remains is to destroy the thing that killed him while we still can."
"No!" Van Helsing was on his feet now, eyes blazing, all his anger and frustration and fear welling up inside him until he thought his heart would explode from it. Father Michael – whom Van Helsing had always thought to be a timid man – did not flinch.
"I won't give up," Van Helsing growled. "Carl is still in there, still alive. I know he is."
"How do you know?"
"I've spoken to him."
"Tallander is clever, and a good actor. He knows all there is to know about Carl, the way he thinks and behaves. They're integrated now – to an extent, Tallander is Carl. Of course he can impersonate him."
"You seem to know an awful lot about this," Van Helsing snapped.
"Cardinal Jinette briefed me before I..."
"I don't care what you think you know, and I don't want your advice if all it amounts to is murdering an innocent man. I'm no murderer!"
"Is that so?" murmured Michael. "Then why do they call you a murderer over several continents, Van Helsing? Why are you wanted by the police in every major city in Europe?"
Something in that tone...that quiet, melodious voice saying things that cut into Van Helsing like a knife...saying them so calmly...it reminded him of Tallander. And suddenly he was suspicious of this apparently virtuous priest.
"Why are you so eager to destroy him?" Van Helsing demanded. "Why not wait – find an alternative?"
"Don't you understand the pain Carl must be suffering? The only way to save his soul is to destroy his body before Tallander takes complete control."
"You said he had!" Van Helsing was triumphant.
"I said nothing of the kind," but there was a flash of anger in Michael's eyes.
"You implied it. You said that Carl and Tallander were 'integrated', one person."
"I may be wrong."
"You're saying anything you can to get me to kill him, aren't you? Why?"
Michael gazed at the floor for a moment.
"You don't have to kill him, though if you really are his friend, you would choose to. I will spare you the burden, Van Helsing." He rose to his feet, but Van Helsing blocked his path with one powerful arm.
"Don't touch him," he growled.
"You fool! You have no idea what Tallander is capable of!"
"And you do. Tell me – and at the same time, you can tell me who you are, because you are most definitely not Father Michael."
The young man glared defiantly at Van Helsing – and his eyes were not the eyes of youth. They were cold, angry, but filled with a depth of experience and wisdom no one of Michael's age could ever hope to possess. They glittered now as they fell upon the monster hunter.
"Your love for Carl is admirable, Van Helsing, as is your bravery. And indeed his – I have never known anyone hold out against Tallander for so long."
"He is still alive, then," Van Helsing sat down heavily.
"There would be no point in my trying to deceive you; as long as there was a chance your friend lived, you would not harm Tallander, nor allow me to do it. All I can do is try to reason with you. Tallander is death, Van Helsing, and his power, if he is allowed to regain his full strength, would be considerable – and terrible. He will visit suffering on the world that even you cannot imagine. That must not happen. Surely one man's life is not too high a price to prevent it?"
Van Helsing could not look at the other man. "What will he do?"
Michael sat down on the bed. "He is trying to recover his former power by drawing on the strength of his unholy congregation – they whose bodies lie in the ground around the ruined church. Two hundred years ago, Tallander was prevented from completing this task – now he is making a second attempt. If he succeeds, he will be stronger than ever before. He will rally people to his dark banner, as he did before – good people, people of God, whom he will subvert to his will and sacrifice upon his unholy altar to add to his power. Once it begins, it will be near impossible to stop him. We must destroy him now, Van Helsing, while he is still vulnerable to the weapons of mortal men. We have no choice. I am sorry about your friend – but he would understand, and would want you to do this. I know it."
Van Helsing closed his eyes briefly. Michael was right. Carl would never want him to sacrifice thousands of people to save one life. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at the priest.
"Who are you?" Knowing the answer.
"My name is Reicher," the man replied, quietly.
"You took possession of Father Michael's body. Why?"
"So I could communicate with you...and so that I can destroy Tallander, as is my duty and my right. He thought he had destroyed me, years ago, when he entered my soul and tried to burn it from within. But I left the shell of my body behind, and travelled even as he did – it was the only way I could survive, and until my task is done, I cannot rest. I do not regret the lives I have taken in order to maintain my existence; they are casualties of a war they could not comprehend."
"Then you are the same as him," Van Helsing said coldly. "A killer. A demon."
"I am neither!" Reicher snapped back. "I serve a higher cause, Van Helsing – just as you profess to."
"I profess nothing. I go where I'm sent."
"And you were sent here, to rid the world of a monster greater than any you have faced before. And you say you cannot do it – are you such a coward, Van Helsing? I have offered to complete your mission for you. You would not even have to see him; I would return the body to you for burial, afterwards, if you wished."
There was silence for a long moment. Reicher watched Van Helsing eagerly, his eyes glittering with triumph, with the knowledge that he had won. Eventually, Van Helsing spoke.
"If you so much as touch him," he half-whispered, "I'll kill you. Understood?" he got up and left the room, leaving Reicher staring after him, furious and disbelieving.
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Van Helsing paced the corridor, filled with a furious energy he could not contain, while at the same time struggling against despair. Reicher was right in that he had never faced anything like this before. Two beings – two demons – each trying in their own way to destroy the man who meant more to Van Helsing than anyone and anything else in his life –Carl was the only real friend he had. He could not allow it to happen.
The door behind him slammed, and he turned sharply. Reicher was standing at the top of the stairs.
"I'm going for a walk," he said simply. "You need time to think. Use my room. I doubt Tallander will try to escape – he is waiting for the ritual to be ready."
"And when will that be?"
"Tomorrow night is the two hundredth anniversary of Tallander's first attempt – and the anniversary of my corporeal death. He has a fondness for that kind of poetic aptness."
"I see."
"You have until tomorrow to make your decision. Good night." Michael disappeared down the stairs. Van Helsing leaned back against the wall, his head swimming. Tomorrow night. He had twenty-four hours. And then...then he would do what he must, despite his anger, despite his fear. If he could not reach Carl and find a way to save him...Van Helsing would kill him.
It was his duty, and his right.