A/N: Sorry, no Chris in this chapter. I decided I wanted to bump all his scenes to the next chapter. I don't know why but this story continues to be one of the hardest for me to write. In case anyone's wondering, I think we're a little more than two thirds through...please note I'm writing everything off the cuff so it's just a guess.
Thanks to my reviewers: Charmed Ravenclaw, Icantthinkofafnick, Sensue, girl-with-the-green-eyes, chattypandagurl, Zeria, charmedtomeetyou. Your support had been incredible and I can't thank you enough.
The End of All Things
Chapter 14
One day left…
She watched as her lover packed his knapsack, carefully tucking away the various potion bottles here and there. He hadn't said a word to her since returning from his previous mission – only that he would be leaving shortly for another one and wasn't sure if was going to make it back.
Wasn't sure?
Her heart tightened painfully and for a moment, she couldn't breath. He looked up, seeing her fear for him clearly written across her face. As he zipped his bag shut, he crossed the couple of feet between them to grip both of her shoulders tightly. "I love you, you know that right?"
Silently the tears began to release, slowly leaking from the corners of her eyes as she nodded vigorously, unable to respond.
Pulling her into a strong embrace, he pressed a fierce kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent, "These past two years…despite everything, despite the war…I've never been happier."
Wiping at her eyes furiously, she sobbed, "Please stop. Please don't talk like that."
Duncan hugged his beloved tightly, "I have to. I don't want anything left unspoken between us if…" He paused significantly, "It's a risky mission, sweetheart."
"Then don't go," She gazed up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Tell Chris to find someone else. Stay here. With me. Please."
Pulling back slightly so he could look into her eyes, Duncan said hoarsely, "I can't."
"Why?" She choked, her voice full of tears. "Why?"
"Because there is no one else. At least – not with my abilities. Chris needs them. He needs me," Duncan explained gently, as he tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His voice was insistent, "He needs me."
"You don't owe him anything."
"Yes, yes I do. I owe him my loyalty, my trust…my life." Duncan's smile was sad, "Because he's my friend."
She hated sounding so selfish but she couldn't help herself. Her fingers curled involuntarily, clutching at his shirt, "And what about me? What about what you owe to me?"
"Please don't make this any harder than it already is," Duncan whispered. "You know I'd do anything for you."
"Do you think this is any easier for me?" she cried earnestly, bringing her fists up against her heart, banging against her chest in protest. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you on the cheek like you're on your way to the office? Do you want me to pretend this isn't happening?"
"No! Of course not!" Duncan swore, staring at his beloved in frustration. "I just thought…" Seeing the hurt and fear in her eyes was tearing him apart. "Zach's gone. And he…and he never got a chance to tell Jane how much he loved her." Duncan's eyes begged her to understand as he whispered, "I just didn't want to make the same mistake."
"Then don't." Putting her finger to his lips to shush him, she voice quivered as she said bravely, "You come back to me, you hear?"
He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on hers, breathing in her perfume, "I…I don't know if…"
"Shhh. Shhh." She wiped away her tears and pulled her lover closer, her fingers weaving through his hair. She whispered in his ear, "Just…promise me you'll come back to me."
He felt his heart clench and as he opened his mouth to swear to her what he had no right to do – she stopped him. Her cold fingers pressed against his mouth as she shook her head gently. "No. No, if you don't say it, then you won't break it. Right?"
He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, his voice barely audible, "Right."
Somewhere in Ireland…
The leprechaun looked questioningly at his friend, "So what do ye think?"
"I think we're screwed," Ben sighed, making a face at his compatriot. "Any sign of the hostiles?"
"No," Shamus answered, shaking his head slightly. "But that doesn't mean they aren't there." Eyeing the magic professor, his Irish brogue soft and lilting, "I still don't know why they sent ye. No offence, man, but I was sort of expecting someone younger."
"Nice to see you too," Ben replied sarcastically, even though he was wondering the same thing himself. Not that there was much to wonder – the Resistance was short on resources. Zack's death was just another blow to the thinly spread forces that had to be absorbed. So people like Ben, who had never really seen much of the battlefield, were now rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands dirty.
The two were squatting behind a rather large rock just on the edge of the property, their target a rather innocent looking cabin. The home was more of a rickety, dilapidated, rundown version of a wood shed, sitting on an acre of what obviously used to be farmland. Ben had seen the situation before – people rebuilding with whatever material they had on hand on whatever property they had owned before the war. He shook his head; personally, he didn't understand the attachment to physical things – at least, especially after the war. But then again, human nature wasn't always logical.
Shamus had sent word to the Resistance that he suspected the family inside were in trouble. They were a nice family, he had said, for he had run into the mortals numerous times in the forest, foraging for food. Unlike most humans, they hadn't demanded help and even shared some of their finds with him and invited him into their home for tea. In turn, Shamus had taken a liking to the young family – a couple barely out of their twenties with a young toddler. He had taken to stopping by and chatting with the young folk every few days. Until today.
"So tell me again what makes you think they're in trouble?" Ben said softly, studying the windows for any signs of motion.
"Today when I went to knock on their door, the lassie didna invite me in," Shamus explained, his hands folded on top of his shillelagh. His eyes were worried, "She always invited me in for tea, before. But today…today she insisted that she didna have time."
"Maybe she really was busy?" Ben asked, his tone hopeful even though his gut knew better.
"Maybe," Shamus shrugged, clearly unconvinced. "After all, the field must surely need tendin'." The 'field' was clearly overrun with weeds and it was clear nothing was going to grow there soon.
Ben rolled his eyes, "All right, all right. It's definitely suspicious; I'll give you that. But what makes you think demons are involved?"
"That would be the massive footprints I found around back when I was nosin' around, lad," Shamus replied, nonchalantly. "They be brute demon prints, if ever I saw them."
"You couldn't have said something sooner?" Ben glared at the leprechaun in exasperation. "You had to tell me the whole story about her making you blueberry scones and freaking raspberry tea but you couldn't mention the demon footprints first?"
"Ye didna ask, lad," Shamus replied matter-of-factly.
"Oh for the love of God," Ben groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shooting the leprechaun a dirty look, "If these are brute demons we're talking about, you do realize I'm outnumbered?"
"Why did ye think I called for backup?" Shamus' eyebrow wiggled at Ben. "How was I to know they'd send ye? I thought they'd send someone a little…" Shamus cleared his throat, pausing before waving his hands vaguely, "Ye know. Bigger."
"Great," Ben muttered. "I can't believe a leprechaun doesn't think I'm 'bigger'."
Shamus shrugged again. "What about him?" the leprechaun asked, jerking his head in the direction of the whitelighter who was crouched a few feet away behind another boulder.
"Sorry – he's a pacifist," Ben grimaced, peering over the boulder. He ignored the dirty look his ride shot him, explaining sardonically, "The only thing he's going to help with is waving a white flag."
"Well, lad, if it makes ye feel better, I think there's only one of them," Shamus grinned. "Surely you and I can take on one measly demon."
"It's a brute demon, Shamus," Ben replied sceptically. "Not a friggin' puppy."
"Aren't ye the professor of magic? Shouldna ye be able to conjure up some vanquishing potion?" Shamus pointed out, not a bit offended by Ben's tone.
Ben sighed and patted the small bag next to him. "I've got enough vanquishing potions to kill at least a couple of demons – the problem is luring him out of the house. I don't want anything to happen to the family…"
Shamus frowned before his face brightened, "Leave that to me, laddie. You just get ready to throw yer portion."
Before Ben could stop him, the little leprechaun leapt up from behind the rock and rushed towards the house. Cursing his small friend, Ben quickly reached into his bag, searching for the right potion vial, "Damn it, Shamus!"
Swallowing his fear, Shamus brought his shillelagh up and banged on the door of the small shed rather loudly. When he didn't hear a response, he looked over his shoulder, winking in Ben's general direction. Shamus drew a deep breath and bellowed, "Lassie! It's ye good friend, Shamus! I brought ye some ale to warm ye and yer laddie's hearth tonight. Come on, lassie! I ken yer in there!"
Pressing his ear to the door, Shamus could hear some scuffling noises and then, "Go away, Shamus! I didna have time for ye, ye annoying little man. I told ye time and time again – I don't have time for yer shenanigans."
Hearing those words, Shamus knew something was very, very wrong with his friends. They had never, ever told him that – in fact, they had welcomed him with open arms, him being the only friend around in this remote area west of the city. Redoubling his efforts, Shamus shouted, "I will not be leavin' till ye open this door, lassie. What kind of gratitude is that? Ye had best come to the door if ye know what's best for ye…"
The door yanked open to reveal an angry brute demon. "I'm going to kill you…" the demon trailed off as he looked left and right, seeing only thin air.
"Down here, you ass!" Shamus yelled before bringing his shillelagh down hard on the brute demon's foot. "Take that, ye bastard!" And in a blink of an eye, the leprechaun turned tail and ran.
Letting out a roar of pain, the brute demon lumbered out of the doorway, intent on pounding the leprechaun into dust. Consumed by rage, the demon was already halfway across the field before he realized his mistake.
Rising up from his hiding place from behind the rock, Ben smiled grimly as he whipped the vanquishing potion at the demon's chest. The demon's eyes widened, his arms going up to try to protect himself, his response too late.
In moments, the fire consuming the demon burnt out – leaving but a pile of black ash in its place.
Skidding to a halt, Shamus quickly turned around. Jogging back, he slapped the witch on the back lightly, "Good work, lad!"
"Shamus – I'm hardly a lad," Ben pointed out dryly, his response ignored as the leprechaun quickly made his way to the homestead.
"Lassie?" Shamus ventured into the doorway, pausing on the step as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkened home. "Laddie?"
Quickly joining his friend, Ben and the whitelighter appeared behind Shamus. "Is everyone all right?"
A sniffle.
Holding up his hand to forestall further questions from the two Resistance followers, Shamus said softly, "Lassie? It's all right now. Shamus is here. And I brought friends. We got rid of that brute demon."
"Shamus?" a timid voice responded.
"That's right, lassie," Shamus' tone was soothing, his ears pricking towards the sound at the back of the cabin. "It's all right now, lassie. I promise ye."
Still unable to see into the darkened room, Ben waved his hands, releasing small orbs of white light that immediately illuminated the room. He gasped, seeing the young woman crouched in the corner, terrified and holding tightly onto a small dirt smudged toddler. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, Shamus…" the young woman's voice trembled, her face streaked with tears, "I think…I think me husband's dead."
At the jerk of her head, the trio turned towards the opposite corner in the room. Crumpled in a heap on the floor, a young man's body lay unmoving. Cursing, Ben quickly crossed the floor to kneel next to the young man, pressing his fingers against the man's throat and searching for a pulse. "Christ." Throwing a look at the whitelighter, "What the hell are you waiting for? Get your ass over here and heal him."
Swiftly moving towards the fallen young man, the whitelighter held his hands out over the body, watching as the golden glow emanated from his hands. Glancing over his shoulder at the tearful young woman, the whitelighter offered an encouraging smile, "It's all right. He's just unconscious. I'll have him healed in no time."
Letting out a sob of relief, the young woman buried her head in her child's hair. The toddler, not understanding the situation but feeling the emotional tension in the air, began to cry. Hunkering down next to the young mother and child, Shamus awkwardly patted her back and held out a handkerchief, "There, there, lassie. Everything will be fine, ye'll see. Dry yer eyes now. Yer scaring yer wee laddie."
Taking the cloth from the leprechaun, the young woman dried her eyes, "I'm sorry. It's just…Oh Shamus. I'm so sorry for those horrible things I said to ye. It's just…he was goin' to kill us if I didna get rid of ye!"
"Don't ye apologize, lassie," Shamus soothed, now patting the young woman's shoulder. "It's not yer fault. Ye have nothin' to be sorry for."
As the whitelighter finished his healing, the young man blinked and opened his eyes, "Meg?"
"Shawn!" the young woman cried, scrambling to her feet. The toddler, dislodged from his secure position in his mother's arms, began to cry again.
Pushing away at the hands attempting to restrain him, the young husband stumbled towards his wife, "Meg!"
As the young couple hugged and kissed, Ben turned to find Shamus awkwardly holding onto the toddler who wasn't that much smaller than the leprechaun himself. Hiding a smile, Ben offered, "Would you like me to hold him?"
Looking relieved, Shamus readily handed over the toddler who immediately quieted as warm arms encircled him. Glancing over at the still reuniting couple, Ben almost felt a little awkward, as if he was intruding on a private moment. He snorted slightly, Come to think of it, I am.
Shamus looked up at his friend, "Ye did good today, laddie."
Unexpected, Ben felt tears come to his eyes. It had been a long time since he had felt like he had done something positive. His failure to help Chris with his illness, the recent feelings of distrust from both the mortals and the magical community – he had begun to feel bitter and depressed. Today had been the first time in a long time that something had gone right. Seeing the happy couple in front of him, the beaming leprechaun at his side – it all reminded Ben sharply of why the Resistance did the things they did.
Friends helping friends.
Mortals and magical beings looking out for each other.
United, against the demons.
Jostling the child in his arms who gurgled happily, Ben blinked away the tears. He smiled down at the leprechaun, beginning to feel a lightness in his heart again where only recently it had felt so dark.
"You did good today, too."
San Francisco…
"D.J!" The loud whisper was accompanied by a hard shake.
Turning over, D.J. buried his face in his pillow, swatting away at the insistent hand. He mumbled into his pillow, "Go away."
"Hey! You're the idiot that wanted to check out the site at first light. Not me. Me – I was all for catching at least 6 hours of beauty sleep. But no, you were all 'we're running out of time, Michael. The valkyrie deadline is looming, Michael.'"
"Aw, hell," D.J. groaned as the previous night's events came flooding back. Rolling over onto his back, he opened one eye to blearily see his brother, fully dressed, grinning down at him. D.J. glared blearily at his brother, "Do you have to be so obnoxious?"
"Good morning to you, too," Michael sat down on the edge of his brother's bed, poking at his brother's shoulder. "Up and at them, sunshine. We got us a crime scene to investigate."
Irrationally, Michael's good mood only made D.J. more irritable. Shoving his brother off his bed, D.J. struggled out from under the tangled sheets. "You are this close to me punching your lights out."
"Geez," Michael rolled his eyes, moving across to the room to gather their stuff, not offended at all. Sheridan had set up one of the rooms in the city hall for the two brothers. Two cots from the nearby hospital had been lent which the two had promptly set up before crashing last night. The only window in the room showed the pinking sky outside, indicating that the dawn was beginning to creep forward. Arbitrarily shoving their stuff into a knapsack, Michael looked over his shoulder as he realized no movement was coming from D.J.'s side, "D.J.?"
Half sitting up, D.J. propped himself up on his elbows, shaking away the foggy effects of his dream from his brain. His face was thoughtful as he said slowly, "Something's not right."
Stopping what he was doing, Michael turned around to ask his brother, "What do you mean?"
Pulling himself into a sitting position, D.J. grimaced as he surveyed the rumpled condition of his clothing. They hadn't expected to be spending the night so he had had to sleep in his clothes. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he tried to explain the niggling he was experiencing in the back of his brain, "Yesterday. Something's not right."
"You mean Jeremiah? He told us all he knew, don't you think?" Michael prompted.
D.J. shook his head, "I mean – I don't buy it. He hates all magic but works with demons? He thinks you and I are traitors because we work with witches? He hates whitelighters? I'm telling you, it doesn't fit."
Shrugging, Michael replied, "Does it have to?"
"I guess not," D.J. said doubtfully. "But I think I want to have one last talk with him. Before we go check out that site."
"Well, it's your call –," Michael started when a knock on the door interrupted him. He yelled to whoever was outside, "Come in!"
Wincing, D.J. rubbed his ear, "I think I just lost hearing in my ear."
Ignoring his brother's belly aching, Michael brightened at the sight of their friend, "Kyle! You're back. What took you so long? I thought you were going to orb straight back here. That was over two hours ago. Everything okay at the border?"
The whitelighter nodded solemnly, "They were friendly, if a bit nervous. Sorry I didn't come by earlier; I ran into Sheridan and she said you were trying to catch some shuteye before sunrise so I figured you needed the rest. I decided instead to make myself useful and maybe spread some good PR by making a detour to the makeshift hospital."
Not surprised by their friend's generosity (after all, he was a whitelighter for a reason!), D.J. queried, expecting a negative response, "So did you?"
"You mean generate some goodwill on behalf of the Resistance?" Kyle asked, only continuing after seeing D.J. nod encouragingly. "Well, they were only scared for the first half hour." Seeing Michael's crestfallen expression, Kyle hastened to add, "But after that, they were lining up in droves. I only managed to break myself free by promising I'd stop by later."
"Is that wise?" D.J. frowned. "We don't want people to assume we can cure all illnesses. We can't stand in the way of someone's fate, Kyle."
"Don't you think I know that?" Kyle retorted sharply. "I know there's a fine between helping and interfering with destiny."
"Then why do it?" D.J. countered just as quickly.
Kyle sighed, "Because…because it seemed like it was the right thing to do."
"Well, let's just hope it doesn't come back and bite us in the ass," D.J. replied sardonically. "Like everyone suddenly deciding whitelighters will be the answer to all their problems."
"Is he always this optimistic in the mornings?" Kyle looked sideways at Michael.
"No, that's how he is ALL the time," Michael quipped.
Giving his brother the evil eye, D.J. ran his hand through his hair, mussing his bed head even more if that was possible, "Let's just get out of here already, okay?"
Sweeping his arm towards the door, Michael took a little bow, "After you."
Not in the mood to humour Michael, D.J. glared at his younger sibling's antics, grumbling as he brushed past him, "I swear to God, you must have been switched at birth."
Kyle merely raised an eyebrow as Michael quickly trailed after him, calling out to D.J., "Love you too, bro. Love you, too."
At the Resistance's headquarters…
"Tell Jack that's unacceptable," Darryl spoke urgently, leaning down next to the telepath currently seated at the communications array.
Nodding the telepath relayed the message to her counterpart located in Vahalla. Shaking her head, the telepath, Sarah, looked up at Darryl, "Jack says he can't get the valkyries aren't listening. Darryl – they're furious."
Rubbing his temple with his right hand, Darryl tried to ignore the pounding in his head. After seeing Chris off, Darryl had managed to catch less than a couple of hours of sleep before the young telepath had urgently summoned him to the command centre. Because of the early morning hour, the room was virtually free of life – the graveyard shift of three telepaths still on duty for the next hour. Normally, one of Darryl's trusted group, be it Ben or Duncan or even one of his own sons would be on call. However, consistent with the trend, once again resources were spread thin and the only person on call for emergencies of latewas Darryl.
Upon arriving at the command centre, Sarah had quickly filled him in. A call had come in from the outskirts of Schwarzwald, a forest which boasted one of the most populated magical communities in the mortal planes. Thousands of fairies, wood nymphs and other assorted magical beings made their home deep in the forest in southwest Germany. Apparently the local mortal inhabitants had decided to invade the Black Forest, chopping down trees left and right in an effort to build shelter. Furious, the fairies had retaliated best they could – making nuisances of themselves. Realizing their disadvantage, the fairies had called on their fellow neighbours in the magical community – the valkyries.
Jack, the Resistance's long time liaison with the valkyries, had heard about the call from the fairies and had swiftly convinced Freyna to take him along, sensing something was wrong. Reluctantly, the valkyrie leader had allowed him to follow her and some of her sisters, allowing Jack to quickly assess the situation upon their arrival. Within moments, he had known the violent potential to explode as the valkyries' faced off against the local humans.
Jack had sent a call out for help back at the Resistance's headquarters. Luckily, Sarah, one of his good friends, had been on duty and had quickly realized that she would need Darryl. She had summoned the de facto leader of the Resistance, hoping he would be able to provide Jack with the answers he needed. Unfortunately, almost all scout contingents were deployed elsewhere, leaving Jack without backup and Darryl with no way to defuse the situation.
"What's going on?" Darryl demanded. "What is Jack seeing?"
Sarah shook her head, focusing hard, "The valkyries and humans are at a standoff. Nobody's made a move yet. Jack is trying to get both sides to start talking."
"Tell Jack to tell the valkyries they need to leave the area…now," Darryl commanded.
:Jack – can you get the valkyries to back off?...:
A slight pause and then, Jack's telepathic voice responded, :They aren't going to leave – the fairies are their allies, even before we were. Plus, they're not necessarily the ones at fault here. This IS the Black Forest, after all. I'm not convinced the humans have any right to the resources here.:
Sarah relayed the message back to Darryl who shook his head. "I don't disagree with him, but the fact of the matter is the valkyries are the bigger threat here – both in terms of magic and pure fighting ability. Right now, I'm more worried about casualties – we'll sort out the land issues later."
:Yeah, right. I don't even need to tell Freyna that. She would laugh me out of town. Face it – even if I could get Freyna to back off, as soon as the valkyries leave, this forest is gone; the trees will be firewood and they'll drain the lake. All you'll have to fight over is a piece of ran-sacked land which no one will want anyways at that point.: Jack snorted, after listening to Sarah's message.
Sympathising with Jack's position, Sarah quickly brought Darryl up to date. He frowned at her, unconvinced, "We can't take sides, Sarah. Tell Jack we have to be neutral – and neutral means getting both sides to start a dialogue."
:The only dialogue that's going to happen here is a right hook and a left jab if I don't get some backup.: Jack responded to Sarah's statement. :You can tell Darryl to put that in his pipe and smoke it.:
Carefully choosing to censor some of Jack's choicer words, Sarah told Darryl, "Jack says he's not going to be able to get either side to listen to him if we don't send him some backup…"
Darryl threw her a pained look. "Don't you think I know that? But we don't have anyone available –," Darryl broke off his sentence as Sarah suddenly clutched her head in pain. "Sarah?"
She shook her head, her eyes tightly screwed shut, "Jack says the humans have started shooting arrows. And the valkyries are responding!"
"Tell Jack to tell Freyna that this is unacceptable. Any act of violence by her or her sisters will be taken as an act of war," Darryl said grimly, hoping to hell he wouldn't regret his brash words. "Tell him – if Freyna doesn't stop this now, God help us, we won't have a choice but to take the mortals side on this."
Sarah threw a terrified glance at Darryl, "Darryl…"
"Tell him, Sarah," Darryl squeezed the shoulder of the telepath, silently reassuring her.
Taking a deep breath, Sarah closed her eyes, once again focusing on sending the message to her counterpart.
:Jack:
:Yeah:
His mind voice was tense – clearly indicating to Sarah the precarious position he was in. She tried to make her own mind voice calm and soothing, trying to give Jack all the support she could, hundreds and thousands of miles away. :Darryl says…:
:What?...: His tone was sharp. :Spit it out, Sarah. I don't have the luxury of time, you know.:
Her voice came out in a rush, :Darryl says to tell Freyna that if she continues with this act of violence, he's going to take it as a declaration of war. And we'll have no choice but to back the mortals.:
:Are you fucking crazy out of your mind?...: Jack's 'voice' was so loud that Sarah winced. He continued, :I'm NOT telling Freyna that. She's a bloody god damned valkyrie for Christ's sakes! It's like waving a red flag at a bull. Are you people nuts!...:
Clearing her throat mildly, she opened her eyes to find Darryl pacing the floor next to her. "Jack says that's not going to work."
Darryl frowned, "I gave him an order, Sarah. It's not open for negotiation."
:Jack – Darryl says it's an order…:
:Well then you can tell Darryl to kiss my ass. Oh wait – that's right, he's not here: Jack replied sarcastically. :You tell him I'll handle this my own way.:
"Well?"
Sarah opened her eyes again to see Darryl tapping his foot impatiently at her. She shrugged, "Jack won't do it."
"God damn it, Sarah!" Darryl exploded. "What the fuck is the matter? We're about to lose control of the situation!"
"Then maybe you should tell Jack yourself!" Sarah shouted back, sick and tired of being the go-between. As Darryl's eyes widened in disbelief, Sarah reigned in her temper, "Fuck, Darryl. Jack's the one on the ground. Maybe we should go with him on this."
Massaging his temple, Darryl sighed. "All right. Get Jack to talk them down. Tell him if he can't defuse the situation…"
Turning back to her station, Sarah threw her thoughts out once again to her friend, :Jack...:
His mind voice was almost absent minded, clearly distracted by something. :Yeah...:
:Darryl says we'll try it your way.:
:No shit, Sherlock: Jack started to say sardonically when suddenly his mind voice changed. :FUCK! That freakin' hurt, you bastard!...:
:Jack?...: Sarah sat up anxiously, her back ramrod straight. :Jack – are you okay?...: When she received no response, she could feel her panic creeping in, :Jack – answer me!...:
Silence.
"Sarah?" Darryl was looking at Sarah fearfully, knowing from her body language that something was wrong. "Sarah – what is Jack saying?"
Tears sprang to her eyes, "I don't know. He won't answer me!"
:Jack!...:
No response.
:Jack – you son of a bitch. Answer me! I swear to God, if you're hurt or dying, I'm going to…:
:Shut up, Sarah:
She nearly sagged in relief, :Jack:
:Hold on…:
"Sarah?" Darryl shook her shoulder slightly to get the telepath to look at him. "Is Jack okay?"
She nodded, "I think so. He said to hold on." She looked into Darryl's eyes, seeing her fear for their friend reflected back at her. "I…I think he's onto something." She felt her tears swell up in her eyes again as she frantically tried to blink them back, "God, Darryl. I thought…I thought something had happened to him." Sarah shook her head, "God. I'm a million miles away and he could have been hurt…or worse…"
"But he's not," Darryl said gently, placing a hand on Sarah's arm. "You said so yourself."
"But he could be!" Sarah protested. She buried her head in her hands, "First Duncan, now Jack. I can't lose them, Darryl. I can't lose either of them."
Darryl could only squeeze Sarah's arm in comfort. He, too, had lost so many friends and family during the war to know the agony of being helpless. As the two tensely waited for word from their friend, Darryl whispered, "Jack's going to be all right, Sarah. He's got a good head on his shoulders. You'll see. He's going to be all right."
Clenching and unclenching her fists, Sarah focused her eyes on the wall clock, counting the seconds as it ticked away. Come on, Jack. Come on.
:Sarah:
:Jack: She asked, her hopeful expression causing Darryl to snap to attention.
:We're good here: The weariness in Jack's voice was clear, even through their telepathy. :The valkyries are backing down and the mortals are backing off.:
Heaving a sigh of relief, she gave Darryl the thumb's up sign even as she asked, :How did you do it?...:
:Who could resist a charmer like me?...: Jack joked half-heartedly, his exhaustion tingeing every aspect of his mind voice. :Seriously? I was lucky. The leader on the human's side isn't mean hearted. He honestly didn't know there were inhabitants in the Black Forest – let alone fairies. He's negotiating with them now – they've got Baden Baden almost fully rebuilt and he's invited the fairies for a visit.:
:And the valkyries?...:
:I simply reminded them their promise to Chris.: There was a note of satisfaction in his tone. :If there's one thing you can count on with Freyna is that she will always act with honour.:
:And you? You okay?...: Sarah sent a quiver of concern over the thought path, letting Jack know just how scared she'd been.
:I'm good. Just nicked by one of those flying arrows. Hazard of the profession, I guess:
She could almost feel him nodding down the line. :You sure you're okay? I don't need to send a whitelighter out to you?...:
:Nah. Don't want the warrior ladies to think I'm a wimp, you know: Jack's mind voice was relaxed now that the crisis has past. :Look, I'll touch base later to file a full report. We've still got some details to work out and I don't want to be distracted.:
:All right: Sarah replied reluctantly. She nodded at Darryl, "Jack is signing off now. Anything you want me to tell him?"
Darryl shook his head, "Just tell him – good job."
Closing her eyes, Sarah sent off the final message, her mouth curving into a slight smile as she closed the connection. "He said to tell you he expects a cheque in the mail."
Darryl let out a bark of laughter, "In his dreams." Relieved that the crisis was over, Darryl glanced over at the clock, "I wonder if I should even bother to go back to my quarters. Another two hours and I have to be on duty anyways."
Clearing her throat slightly, Sarah said casually, "Err. You may want to go back to change your clothes at least."
Looking down at himself in surprise, Darryl blink. He had raced to the command centre, barely paying attention to what he was wearing, grabbing a housecoat on his way from his quarters. Because he had been awaken from his slumber, underneath the robe he was currently clad in blue and black stripped pyjamas and a pair of fuzzy slippers graced his feet. He felt his face warm with embarrassment as Sarah pretended not to notice. "Those slippers were a gift from my sons," Darryl said defensively. "My feet get cold."
"Oh, mine do too," Sarah hid her grin behind a well placed hand.
Glaring at the telepath, Darryl threw up his hands in the air in defeat before stalking towards the exit, "I'm going to go back to bed. Call me if you need anything else."
"Will do. Oh, and Darryl?"
Darryl paused, turning slightly to look over his shoulder, "Yeah?"
"Good night!"
To be continued….
