Chapter Thirty-seven

Fury radiated through her and rolled off of her in waves, sending everything that saw her, even a Fiery who'd been about to ask to play with her head, scurrying off in the opposite direction as she stormed toward the sleeping quarters. Her hands clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms, and her eyes flashed darker than a storm-tossed night sky. How dare they! How dare they pretend to care for her just because they foolishly felt it their duties to keep her from hurting herself! No one would keep her from her goal that night! No one!

Reaching the sleeping quarters, she threw open the door. The sound of its slamming against the wall echoed in the empty room. Faith strode straight toward her cot and flipped it over. She traded the sword she still wore for her regular blade and quickly reattached the first to the underside of her cot. That done, she knelt and removed a board from the deck.

She grabbed another knife and slipped it into her boot's hidden sheath. She'd wait until the light of day, when she might give at least a half an inch of a damn, to find the one she'd lost. Now, however, she just wanted to get drunk and forget . . . Forget Salem. Forget her past. Forget him, that stupid, ignorant kid who just thought he loved her because she was his first fuck and whose love she would never need nor want; forget his hands on her skin, his lips on her body . . . She just wanted to forget everything, she told herself before her mind could linger on Dawson and the remembered feel of his body in hers.

Reaching back into her secret hold, she drew out a bottle of tequila. Lifting it to her lips, she threw her head back and downed nearly the entire bottle in one swallow. As she lowered the bottle, her gaze fell on a bag in the hold. It was round with personal loot she'd saved for a while. Her mind turned to the fact that she was now in debt.

Katrina had saved Salem as she had asked her to do. If questioned, Faith knew the other woman would say she'd done it out of the goodness of her heart, because she wanted to be her friend, or some such similar shitt. Snatching the bag up, Faith turned and scanned the room for Katrina's belongings. Even as she tossed the bag to the pile, Faith's mind refused to stop playing over memories of what she had done to Salem and to another cat many years before.

Turning back, she swallowed the remainder of the bottle and, as the wriggling worm slid down her throat, threw the bottle against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces, and she reached over and picked up one of the shards. She looked at the glass for a second, a slow, grim smile forming on her dark lips. Physical pain always helped to silence other, unwanted emotions. Curling her fingers around the shard, she gripped the glass with increasing strength until blood seeped through her closed fingers.

Focusing on the pain that seared through her many self-inflicted cuts rather than the memories that had already been racing through her mind, Faith uncurled her fingers and gazed at her own blood. Her stomach flopped as she realized that her blood intermingled with Salem's, and the shard slipped from her fingertips as her mind was taken back to another time and a young girl's sobs filled her ears to the point that her present mind throbbed with the cries of her yesterdays. With a growled oath, Faith grabbed a second bottle of tequila. More than half the bottle poured down her throat in one quick gush. Then gathering an armload of it and more bottles, Faith rushed from the quarters, neither realizing nor caring that her cot lay on another's.

This time, she did not stop until she reached the riggings. Putting the bottles on the deck, she finished her second and let it drop and shatter. A piece cut the back of her hand; she didn't even blink. Without bothering to think, she stripped, freeing herself of the burdening restraints of clothes. She only allowed herself to think once she was completely naked. She would need her knife, and it would never do for a friendless bitch to be caught weaponless. However, she was also determined to take a bottle with her.

Pulling her boots back on, Faith snatched a third bottle and launched herself at the riggings. She focused on the burning of her injured hand and stinging of the blood that ran from her face and hands as she climbed and fought to ignore the memories that tormented her.


Cordelia and Elizabeth had lingered behind most of the others and had stayed in the galley to secretly get another plate each. They had not wished the others to know for both feared what the men might think, but neither could disagree that they were ravenous and that one plate and slice of pie simply was not enough to satisfy their starvation. Both had been quiet as they had finished their meal. Cordelia's silence was due to her mind whirling over the day's events, most especially her feelings for Angel, his for her, and their now-mutual concern over his sister; her mind had also gone more than once to poor, little Dawn and how her horrid family had sold her into sex slavery. Elizabeth's quietness was for a different reason, however, as she could not stop remembering Cordelia's earlier admission and fearing for her friend.

They had left the galley just in time to become absorbed in Joxer and Lorne's routine, but as it finished, Lorne rushed off, and there seemed to be no other forthcoming music, Cordelia's mind went instantly back to Angel. Where was he? She had not seen him since he had left the galley. "I'm going to go find Angel," she told Elizabeth, but as she started to walk off, the blonde grasped her wrist.

Frantic eyes peered up into hazel. "Cordelia, was what you said earlier true?" Cordelia raised her eyebrows, leading Elizabeth to explain, "About your father?"

Cordelia sighed softly even as she gently shook Elizabeth's hand off of her wrist. She had known questions would be forthcoming but had been unable to think of another way to help her grow closer to Crystal. "Yes," she told her, choosing her words carefully. "I am a Princess, but I do not wish the life my Father does for me."

"I understand," Elizabeth started, but Cordy knew instantly that she did not really. "My Father also wanted another life for me. He did not want me to marry Will so desperately that he sold him into slavery."

Cordelia looked out into the darkness, not wishing Elizabeth to see the tears that shimmered in her eyes. "My Father wanted me to marry the Captain of his guard, but he also wanted me under his thumb for the rest of my life. I . . . I wanted adventure, a life of my own . . . "

"So you came out to sea?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I ran away. I've stowed away on a few ships but only for traveling purposes."

"Then how did you come to be . . . ?"

"Here?" Cordelia finished for her. "When I ran away, my Father wanted me back so desperately that he sent some of his guards after me. I tried to hide on the Pearl today in order to escape them, but my plan failed. Thank Gods for Captain Sparrow, Angel, and Brendan," she said, feeling more confident that the other man who had helped to rescue her had indeed been the doctor. "They saved me from them."

"But they'll be back?"

"Oh, of course, they'll be back," Cordelia answered without hesitation. She did not even need to think to know the answer. "I am the King's daughter, and my Father wants me." Elizabeth would have never even began to think of the way that Cordelia's father truly wanted her, and the brunette was glad for that. "He will do whatever he can to bring me back."

"So you do believe he'll send his army?"

"I doubt that, honestly," Cordelia replied, her face lifting but only slightly. "He's always too busy fighting various wars to waste his army on me." A chill went through her, but she stayed strong. She was right . . . Wasn't she? With a quick shake of her head to clear her scary thoughts, Cordelia turned her mind back to the conversation at hand. "I only said that," she whispered to Elizabeth, hoping that no one would overhear them and believing that no one could, "so that Crystal will not think that she is the only one putting every one in grave danger."

"I still can not believe that that horrid creature is her uncle!" Elizabeth exclaimed with a shudder.

"I know," Cordelia admitted with a nod, "but she can no more help what her uncle does than we can what our fathers do." With that, Cordelia walked off, leaving Elizabeth to ponder her words and the realization that the murderer of almost every one she had known growing up was a family member of some one aboard the very ship she was on.


Prue pulled herself together with a mental shake. Although her encounter with Brendan had not turned out as well as she had hoped for, she was happy with the fact that he had not wolfed and that she had actually been able to sit beside him at his invitation nonetheless.

The galley was a mess. It looked as though a tornado had whipped through. She did not want Piper to come back from wherever Cole had whisked her off to and think that she had to clean up the mess, so although she wanted to go outside and see what the musicians were doing, she began to set the room to rights. She dragged a couple of trashcans around with her. Picking up discarded napkins and silverware, she dropped them into one. Into the other one, she put various articles the crew had thrown away. She was deserted except for a large amount of cats, and every time she found a piece of food, she threw it to one of them.

When she reached the front of the room, she looked back to see that everything had been picked up except for the plates. She then began to gather the used plates, hating the fact that she'd have to wash them before she could go to bed. Where were her sisters? They were supposed to be helping her. She knew Autolycus had been thrown into the hold, but Joxer also was supposed to be helping. She had heard Joxer singing, so she knew he was on deck with the other musicians. She did not want to drag him away from his music, so she intended to search for her sisters instead.

She walked out onto the deck and immediately spied her sisters. Phoebe had a hold of Joxer as though she would never let go, and Paige was sitting still with a weird look on her face. As Prue looked closer at Paige, she noticed two little feet hanging out from under her skirt, and her mouth nearly dropped open in shock. Damn, the audacity of the girl! If Ororo was to notice, there'd be Hell to pay! She quickly scanned the deck for Ororo and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her dancing with Wolverine. Quietly making her way over to Paige, she faced her sister. "What do you think you're doing?"

Paige grinned innocently up at Prue. "What's it look like? I'm enjoying the music! Aren't they great?" She sighed, but her fluttering sigh was full of more pleasure than any music could ever invoke.

"Paige, I know what you're doing. If Piper or Auntie Ororo sees you, you're in for it! I need your help in the galley. Come in there and bring your -- huh -- friend with you. He can wash dishes or dry them. It doesn't matter; we've got a lot of work in there."

While waiting for Paige's acknowledgment, Prue glanced warily around, hoping to catch a sight of Brendan. He did not seem to be on deck, and no one was singing. It was then that she began to hear the slow beating of a drum picking up rhythm. It sounded as though it was shouting for joy as it started to set the pace for the musicians who began to play with it.

"Who is that?" Paige asked, looking around but not seeing any one with drums.

"That is the mysterious drummer," Prue answered in a quiet voice. "Some say he's a ghost."

Carl darted out from under Paige's skirts, his eyes wild. "A ghost! Where!"

"In the galley with you, mister," Prue commanded, "and stay out from under my sister's skirts!"

Carl glared at her. "She invited me!" He still could not believe his luck but would never have dared to decline the beautiful redhead's offer.

"She would!" Prue muttered. "I don't want to know what you were doing under there."

Paige's mouth flew open, but Joxer's mouth interrupted her. He had heard Prue from across the deck. "We're allowed to enjoy the music time before we have to wash the dishes," he told Prue. "Why don't you relax a little?" he suggested gently in hopes that he and Phoebe would be allowed to stay.

"Okay," Prue relented, "but right after music time, I need my helpers in the galley. We don't want Piper to have to clean the mess up after she cooked us such a delicious feast!"

A look of confusion crossed Joxer's face. "Why . . . " he started to ask but was quickly silenced by Phoebe's lips.

Prue settled down to watch the musicians, her eyes still glancing around in search of Brendan. She could find no sign of Brendan but was surprised when Jareth suddenly stood and began to sing. She was astonished at the quality of his voice, and a smile lit her face. It grew even more as his wife joined him in the song. Sitting and listening to their music was a real pleasure! She wondered if the crews did it every night and hoped that they would.

When Jareth and Delvira had finished their song, another Pirate stood and began to sing. Prue didn't like his song near as much as she had Jareth's. She got up and made her way slowly over to Brendan's cabin, remembering that she had seen drums in there earlier. Could it be Brendan playing? she wondered. She recalled Wesley saying that they now knew Brendan's secret. It had to be the drums. She crept closer and closer still until she could peek in the window. There she saw Brendan sitting on the floor with his drums in front of him, a big smile on his face, and his eyes closed, lost completely in his drumming. She did not make a sound but continued to watch him.


Crystal had wasted no time in running as far from Lorne as she could. She wanted to put the entire world between them but could only flee to the furthest deck of the Pearl. It was there that she collapsed on the railing, her intense emotions causing her to tremble. She gazed up at the night sky with its beautiful sprinkling of brilliant stars as memories from all points in her life flew through her mind. She knew she had to do something to calm herself if she was going to have any chance of thinking of a way to save Lorne, Angel, and the others, and so, in her desperation, began to sing:

"I remember the tales of old.
I recall the lies they fed me in the cold:
The lies of family, love, and trust,
All turned to dust
In the face of reality.

None of them understood.
No one ever will.
They see what they want to see,
Each and every one of them,
But none accept the reality.

I wish it weren't so.
I wish things were different,
That I could go back in time
And somehow stop my life
From becoming what it has.
"

Elvira whimpered at that, and Crystal looked down into the sad eyes of the three beings she loved most in the world. She reassuringly stroked Elvira with one hand while her other hand divided its pets between Cindy and Blue. She wanted to tell them, "Not you, my sweet babies," but knew she could not for they would have all been better off if they had never known her.

"It's not that I don't want to live --
That I don't want a real chance
At the world around us all,
At family, friendship, and love --
For Gods know I do
But that I can't.

I don't know why they have to be so stubborn.
I always wanted to be believed before,
But never like this,
Never by such wonderful people
So determinedly placing their lives in danger
For me, a lowly being who's never deserved such.

Why can't they see
The other side of the truth?
Why can't they accept
That he is not the only evil?
That if I'd only not lived that day,
None would ever have died
Because of me.
"

Blue cooed to her, but Crys shook her head and explained her reasoning to him in song.

"Perhaps they would have,
In some form or another,
At his power, at his strength,
But not for simply knowing me
And not for being my friend.

As it is,
Millions have died because of me.
Some were foolish enough
To befriend me while
Never knowing the danger
My selfish, worthless hide
Put them in.
Others had never even met me.
"

She looked at her familiars through eyes blurred by tears.

"You all remember that day,
The day we woke to find it snowing
And knew he was coming.
The day we ran so desperately
To get away
While the entire city
Was iced all around us.

Adults, children, babies;
Humans, Vampires, Demons, animals;
None of them mattered to him.
If they moved, he shattered them.
If they breathed that day,
They breathed their last.
All because of me.

They tell me I'm safe;
I know they believe it.
They tell me they can take him,
And I know they believe that, too.
But I also know they're wrong.
"

Her choked voice was becoming but a whisper now as tears poured down her cheeks.

"They tell me it's not my fault,
But they don't know.
They don't know what it's like
To see so many killed,
Strangers and friends alike,
And know it's all your fault.

They don't know what it's like
To be thrown out of your home,
Forbidden to ever come back,
Because your family believes
A monster over you.
They don't know what it's like
To have a monster force you
To be just as evil as he is.

They would say I'm wrong,
But I know I'm not.
All I had to do to save
All those who he's killed
Because of me
Was to let him do what he wanted
Or simply never go with him
That day to begin with.

But because of me,
Because of my stupidity,
My ignorance,
My stupid belief in humanity,
In family,
Millions are dead.

And if I can't find a way to get out of this,
Others will die.
I can't let that happen.
I can't let him take
Lorne . . .
Angel . . .
Any of them . . .

I can't let him kill them.
I can't.
I can't.
"

She was shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane now, and her last words were murmured into Blue's wings as they folded around her face in a gentle, loving hug. She fell to her knees, lost in her emotions for the sad beauty of her song had failed her completely. Cindy and Elvira joined Blue in hugging her, and she clung to them while simultaneously hating herself more than she ever had before and knowing that she had to find a way to save not only Lorne and Angel but them, as well. She had to find a way to leave them.


From deep within the music, Brendan started to come back to reality. He was led there by Prue's scent, and his nose started to twitch as he inhaled it. He stilled suddenly, his hands freezing in mid-air, and his eyes snapped open. "Prue?" He could not see her but knew she was there.

She heard him call her name. Part of her wanted to reveal herself, but part of her was scared. What if he was mad because she had caught him? She held herself very still, hoping for once that he'd lose interest in her.

"Prue," Brendan called again, "I know you're here." Pushing his drums away, he slowly got to his feet.

Her heart beating ninety miles a minute, she thought fleetingly that she should run. Her feet felt like lead, however, and wouldn't do what her mind told them to do. She was frozen in place as she could hear him coming closer.

It did not take Brendan long to spot Prue for her scent led him straight to the window. Opening it, he peered out and found himself gazing at her fear-filled face. He sighed, knowing that she should be just as afraid of him as she appeared to be. Though his fingers ached to reach out, caress her beautiful face, and chase her fears away, he started to pull himself back instead.

It was then that Prue's brain reminded her that Brendan would take her fear the wrong way. She might lose the little bit of ground that she had gained with him, because he'd think that she feared him and didn't want to be near him. "Brendan?" she called out to him. "Don't go. I didn't mean to snoop. I just couldn't help myself. I saw them earlier, and I knew it had to be you! I didn't want you to be angry at me because I found out."

Though he had pulled out of the window and was standing erect again, he could not help but to hear her. "I could never be angry with you," he spoke softly, "but it is best that you fear me."

"I don't fear you, Brendan," she said with a small shake of her head even though he couldn't see it. "I just feared your anger. I don't want you angry at me. I promise I won't tell any one. Won't you open the door?"

At her request, Brendan started to head for the door but stopped when he caught sight of the painting that hung on his wall. He fell silent for a long moment as he stared at its dark colorings, remembering why he could not let her in . . . neither to his cabin nor into his heart.

"Brendan?" Prue called when she had not heard from him for what seemed like forever. She had gotten to her feet. "I'm not leaving. I know it's too soon. The Captain told me not to even bother you today, but one thing has just led to another and we seem to be closer. I'm going to sit on the bench outside your window so I can at least be near you. You don't have to come out. Your music is beautiful!" She sat on the bench.

Her words coupled with the sweet aroma of her natural scent tore at his heart. He ached to be near her and longed to be able to hold her but knew that they could never be. "It's my fault," he found himself whispering aloud, his eyes still glued to the painting.

"No, it's not. Just think. We have managed to be around each other for a couple of hours and you haven't wolfed. That's a good sign. Don't blame yourself because I snuck up on you."

"That was one thing," he managed, "but I should have stayed away. I know better. I don't want you in danger."

"It's a little too late for that," she replied with a small bit of laughter in her voice. "You're not the danger I was in today. I've been around danger all my life. Your people saved me. You did not endanger me. It's nice sitting like this, although it would be nicer if you were out here with me. Still, being able to be this close to you helps a lot."

"But it's not wise," he protested gently, "for either of us."

"Who's to say what is or isn't wise?" she answered him. "We have but one life to live, and we should listen to our hearts more often. Our brains tell us it's dangerous and to stay away, but my heart says I love you and I'm not going to stay away although I will allow a distance between us for your comfort." Her voice trailed off. She didn't expect him to say that his heart was attracted to hers or anything romantic, but he wasn't hiding or running away and, for now, that was enough. She leaned back against the window casing, listening for any movement he might make.

"Our hearts only endanger our lives," Brendan told her sadly. "It's always better to listen to our brains, because they know the truth. They know what can and can not be if we are to live." Without hurting others, he concluded his thought silently.

"What are we doing now, Brendan? My heart's singing out to yours. Don't you hear it? My brain is telling me to forget it, but my heart won't let me. I have to be patient, and I will be even though it's the hardest thing I've ever done. You are well worth it."

He paused. He needed to convince her that she was better off without him even though to lose what little they were able to have between them would make him want to shrivel away and die. "Prue . . . " he spoke slowly, his voice sounding strange as he fought through the emotions that clogged his throat, " . . . I'd like you to come in. I want to show you something."

She got eagerly to her feet. She had no clue what would happen in the next few minutes, but she didn't, for even one moment, consider that Brendan might attack her. She believed in him, whether he believed in himself or not. She watched as the door slowly opened and stepped inside as soon as it was wide enough. She heard it close behind her.

Brendan paced the room nervously as he walked to stand back before the painting. "I want you to look at this."

"I saw it earlier; I couldn't help but to stare at it. Wesley told me that you had painted it. Those are your nightmares and worst fears." She turned to look at him, not realizing until she did so how close he was to her. "Those are the things that you fear will come out of you; I don't believe that they will."

He shook his head slowly, trying desperately to ignore the closeness of their bodies. "They are not merely my nightmares or fears, Prue," he told her in a soft, quiet voice, his eyes focused on the painting as he fought to keep his gaze away from her luscious body. "That is reality. The blackness," he held his hand up so that his fingers pointed toward the spots he indicated, "are my kind. The red is the blood of yours. That is reality."

"But not our reality, Brendan." Her voice was soft as she moved even closer to him. "Not even the reality that you know any more. That is your past. Together, we can overcome it." Her eyes were locked on his, and with every sense of her being, she was willing him to want her and to give their love a chance. "Don't be fearful, my love. I'm not afraid of you. I may be afraid of your Demons, but I won't run from you."

"Prue, my Demons are me. I am the wolf. What you see before you is only a charade, and Gods only know how long or short it might last at any given time. That is my past, but it is also my future and the only one I will ever have." He wanted to look at her but did not wish her to see the sadness that he could feel in his eyes. He was also afraid that one direct look would be too much and that he might reach out toward her, thus taking her closer to her death.

She moved even closer to him. "I am yours, Brendan. You have but to reach out and touch me. I will not leave you. I do not fear you. Give me the wolf. I can talk to him. I did not know it, but I have the gift. I talked to Elvira today."

His eyes finally fell to hers in surprise. Surely she knew better than the nonsense she was now sprouting? "Elvira is not a Werewolf. Her lover is, but she is not."

"Not her. Elvira, the wolf! Crys' pet."

His mouth fell open as he stared at her. She had actually talked to a wolf? "And . . . " he finally managed to get out. "And she understood you?"

"Oh, yes! She and I had a regular conversation! Crys says it's because I'm in love with a Werewolf which is you," she stated with a little half-smile. "So if I can talk to her, I should be able to talk to your wolf."

Brendan shook his head, refusing to believe. "Crystal's wolf is not wild, and she certainly is no Werewolf. She's gentle; that may well be why she understood. You'd barely manage to get a word out before the Werewolf . . . " He could not bring himself to finish his thought aloud but knew that the beast would kill, and probably eat, the wonderful woman before him, the only woman who had ever touched him as she did with but a breath from her tender lips.

"What if we're not alone when I talk to the wolf? Would you be willing to try it then?"

Brendan was already shaking his head as he stumbled back a step. "I will not endanger you!" He would never willingly let her near his wolf, not for talking or for Wolf's insane suggestion that he allow her to make love to the beast!

She faced him, anger showing in her eyes. "So you just want to throw our love away, or maybe you don't love me after all? I mean, I can understand it if it's just me and I'm putting my attentions on you when you don't want them. Tell me that honestly. Look me in my eyes, and tell me that you don't want me. If you can do that without looking away, I'll go away."

If he could get her to leave, that would save her from him. He gazed at Prue for a long time, willing his mouth to force the words out though knowing the entire time that he could not. Finally shaking his head in frustration, he growled as he turned from her. "I will not lie to you."

"Then anything that will help us is worth a shot! We have to do this thing, Brendan, or we'll die without each other!" She reached out and gently touched him on the back. "Don't turn away from me, love. I am just as frustrated as you are, if not more, but I'm willing to do anything. Are you willing to try this? Jack can be with you to knock you out if you get out of control, and I'll get Elvira and Wolf as well."

Gods knew he wanted to be able to be with her and to have a chance with her, but he knew that that would never be possible. "No," he told her. "I will not place you into danger, Prue! One of these days or nights, when Jack tries to knock me out, I'll probably end up killing even him! It's bad enough that I'm a constant danger to every one around me! I won't endanger you!"

She threw herself at him, her arms going around his back and hugging him gently. "I can't force you, Brendan, and I promise not to bother you any more until you come seeking me, but know that I'll pray for you every day and I'll be waiting for the chance, any chance, to be with you, my love!" She released him, turned, and ran from the cabin.

Brendan turned after her, his hands reaching out toward her fleeing form. He wanted to stop her and call her back to him but knew that if he did, he'd end up killing her. Sadness engulfed him. As he sank to his knees on the deck, his head threw back in a long, anguished howl. Tears ran down his cheeks.


Jack lay very still. He had hopes that Will had gone to sleep as he had not moved in a long time. It felt good just to hold him, and he snuggled into him, breathing in his scent. Still Will did not move. It was then that his ears caught a howl, and he recognized it at once as Brendan! He had no ideal what was wrong with his friend. The full moon still was two days away, so he knew he was not changing unless Prue had gotten to him. He had watched her during dinner and had not seen anything about to get out of hand, but he also had not seen them separate later as he and Will had gone to their cabin. "Will," he murmured, "I've gotta go."

Will had not fallen asleep but was simply enjoying being held by Jack. "Go?" he repeated, his confusion clear in his voice. "Go where, love?"

"See a seadog about a wooden leg."

Will's eyes shot open at that. "Huh!"

"Bathroom," Jack clarified.

"Oh." Reluctantly, Will rolled off of him. "Hurry back." The bed already felt cold without Jack's arms around him.

"I won't be gone long. Miss me while I'm gone?" he asked hopefully while gazing at Will.

Turning to face his beloved, Will reached a hand up and brushed Jack's cheek. "I already do."

Jack smiled but moved back out of Will's reach. Jack pulled his boots on and hoped that Will would not notice as he reached for the cane that stood beside them. He knew that he could not alert Will to the danger he was about to go into for he would surely be just as stubborn as he had been with Faith. Jack held the cane close to his body and walked stiff-legged toward the door. He turned around, slipping the cane behind his back as he did so. Smiling at Will one last time, he eased out and shut the door. He then ran like crazy to Brendan's cabin.

When Jack reached Brendan's cabin, he immediately noted that the door was open and the window unlatched; both things warned Jack at once that Brendan was having a moment. Jack entered carefully, holding the cane at ready, only to be confronted with Brendan on the floor, crying so hard that his muscular shoulders shook. "Brendan?" Jack called.

Brendan looked up at Jack and could barely make his dearest friend's form out for the tears that ran in his eyes. The question of why he must live such a miserable, wretched life rose in his throat, but he knew he could not ask him that.

"Come; sit down over here," Jack directed him, pulling out a chair. "I haven't seen you this distraught in a long while. What happened? I knew I shouldn't have let Prue sit with you at the dinner table!"

"I asked her to," Brendan admitted, hauling himself up off of the deck and stumbling as he walked toward the chair Jack offered. "Blame me, Jack, not her. It's my fault. I'm the idiot that invited her; I'm the one who should be tanned!"

"Don't talk like that, Brendan! If I had some rum, I'd share it with you. It'd help things." Brendan opened his mouth to deny the fact that Jack believed in, but Jack hurried on, "You and Prue belong together, but you've got some mighty big hills to climb. You seemed happy enough at dinner. What happened?" he asked him again.

"She found me." Brendan's eyes suddenly shot wide as he realized that his drums had been left out in the open and that Jack would surely see them.

"So you're the unknown drummer?" Jack observed as his eyes followed Brendan's. "You bring a lot of good music out of those drums. Don't worry; I won't tell any one it's you. You say Prue found you? What were you doing?"

Brendan inclined his head toward the drums. "It gets worse too." He shook his head. "I'm such an idiot!"

"Come on, Brendan. Tell me what happened. How could it get worse? You didn't eat her. You're not wolfed out. Where is she?"

"We talked, and I . . . I invited her in, Jack!"

Jack almost said "oh no". Instead, he remained quiet, not wanting to upset Brendan even more. "What happened then?"

"I showed her the painting," Brendan gestured toward the painting that stood as a constant reminder to him.

"Don't tell me. She freaked out when she saw it."

Brendan shook his head. "No. That's what I was trying to get her to do. I hoped that might make her realize that I'm too dangerous for her and that she doesn't really want a monster." He shook his head again. "But it didn't work. It backfired! She still wants me, Jack, but Gods know I can't have her! I can't even let her near the wolf! And would you believe that she wants to talk to it!"

"Brendan, did you ever talk to Wolf and find out how he fixed his problem?"

Brendan nodded. "But I can't do that! I'd kill her!"

"What? What was it?"

Brendan's stormy eyes peered into Jack's. "The way he gained control was to have a Gypsy . . . hum . . . do that," he said, hoping that Jack would understand his intention, "to his wolf!"

"Wolf mated with a Gypsy? Was he in love with her?"

Brendan nodded.

"Well, Prue's not a Gypsy, but it might work any way. Don't tell me, Brendan," Jack said, gazing at his friend. "You're not willing to try it."

"Of course I'm not! What are you thinking, Jack! I'd kill her!"

"How? You're not that big, even in wolf form!"

"It would eat her!"

"I think it could work," Jack persisted, "under the right conditions. You would have to be heavily guarded. I'd be there, of course, with my cane." He showed Brendan that he indeed had it in tow even as he folded it up and put it in his pocket. "Wolf could be there. So could Elvira and any one else of your choosing. Some one would need to talk to Prue about it, of course. I know you're not going to say anything," he said almost as an after-thought. "I can talk to her, explain it to her, and see what she has to say about it."

Brendan was staring at Jack as though he had taken complete leave of his senses. "Are you insane!" he growled, his eyes flashing. "Don't you dare talk to her about that! I will never put her in that kind of danger!"

"With all of us around, she wouldn't be in that much danger. I can even get silver chains and wrap you in them, which renders your wolf harmless."

"Nothing renders that monster harmless. I won't let her be hurt, Jack!"

"So you're going to spend the rest of your life wanting the woman and not doing anything about it? Brendan, that's not like you! You've always been a bit quiet but very courageous. Are you telling me that you're now going to just give up without a fight?"

Brendan stared at Jack for a long moment before finally asking him, "Jack, why do you think Helvira managed to hold me for so long? I never tried to fight her."

"This is different, Brendan. You're not fighting a woman; you're fighting for a woman! Would it be such an insult to your manhood if your woman did it with your wolf first?"

Brendan stared at Jack for a long while, his eyes cutting daggers through the man he'd thought he could trust. Was every one insane! Did they not understand that he was fighting for a woman, fighting to protect a woman who he deeply cared for, more indeed than he ever had for any other living being? Did no one, not even the man who called him "brother", understand? Finally, he looked away. "I think it best you leave, Captain."

"Brendan, I am not leaving until we get this settled. I will not do anything about what I am suggesting to you without your permission. I am just trying to give you something to think about. I am willing to stand with you and fight your monster to give you a chance with this woman. If she loves you enough, she will do anything to be with you. Has she not told you that?"

"She did," he responded, "and I told her the same thing I'm telling you now. I won't do it. I won't put her in that danger!"

"You won't put her in that danger, Brendan, or you won't put yourself in danger of letting go for the first time in your life and allowing yourself to love? I love you, Brendan, like a brother, and it hurts me to see you going through this! If I could take it away from you, I would. If I could make it happen by some miracle, I would. But I can't. I can only be there for you, but you have to let me be." He reached out and gripped Brendan's shoulder. "And you alone are the only one that will know when you're ready."

"Jack, what part of impossible don't you understand?"

"Anything's possible, Brendan. Up until today, I would have thought that there were many things that were impossible, but with Will by my side, anything is possible. We are together at last, and although we have a lot of obstacles to overcome, we are together, and that's what counts. I believe you and your lady will be together one day. I believe in you."

"You shouldn't," Brendan told him quietly. "Jack, I know you mean well, that you, Wolf, Angel, even Prue . . . All of you mean well, but you don't know what it's like to have a monster inside you. I won't let her be hurt by that. Every time I wolf out, I even put you in danger. If we were trying that and I got out of control, she wouldn't be the only one I'd kill. I'd kill you all, and I won't let that happen! I'd rather tear myself limb from limb first!"

"Brendan, you are very frustrating," Jack informed him. "I can't deny any of your words, but when your friends are all willing to take a chance, can you do any less?"

Brendan finally looked back at him. He had stopped crying now, and his eyes blazed with fierce determination instead. "When that would be willingly endangering you all? Yes, Jack. Yes a million times over."

"Very well, Brendan, but I want you to think about it. Don't throw this opportunity away, because I won't approach you with it again. Just know that we will all be ready when you are." He got up and walked out the door. He figured that Brendan would probably throw something against it when he shut it but did not look back. He had to be tough on Brendan or he knew he'd never overcome his fears.

Left alone, Brendan's sigh echoed in the still room. He turned his head to look back at the painting. "I really hate you sometimes," he whispered to himself.


Lorne had run quickly in the direction that he had smelled Crys. He slowed as he got nearer and could tell that she was singing. Her words made tears run from his eyes. He wanted to go to her and hold her. His hands clenched helplessly at his side. He didn't know what to do. He had never been really good with words with women, and he knew words of love would not do anything to help her at this time. He felt that her singing might help ease the pain in her heart.

If he could just get his hands on Frostbite, he would tear him into a million shreds and then drop them, one by one, in front of Crys so that she could see that her enemy was dead. Unfortunately, however, he knew he was not a match for her uncle. He could only hope that between Angel and himself, they could find a way to end Crys' nightmare.

He saw Blue enfold her in a hug and wished that he could come closer so that he, too, could hug her, but for now, he had to stay in the shadows and watch helplessly. If she made a move to hurt herself, he was close enough to stop her. He didn't know why he had fallen in love with Crystal when he had first seen her, but he knew that it was not because of Aphrodite's meddlings.

He was searching rapidly through his mind for a song he could sing to her but waited for her to finish hers. Then he saw her break into tears, and he eased gently forward. "Crys?" his voice spoke her name caressingly. Her babies moved just slightly enough away from her so that he could reach down for her. He pulled her into his arms.

Though she knew she had to leave him, Crystal did not struggle. Instead, she clung to Lorne, her tears soaking his jacket's shoulder. She was relieved that he did not try again to talk her into believing what she knew could never be, but her tears increased even more as she knew she had to leave him.

He might not be able to do anything else at this time but provide comfort, but that Lorne was more than willing to do. He held her while the night breeze whispered a tune of love just for the two of them.

To Be Continued . . .