Part 3

James gasped, as flashes of Tristan assaulted him. His friend looked deathly pale, lying silently on some sort of table. He saw figures. Eight of them surrounding his friend. They felt… wrong. He heard voices, other than the eight. These were kind. Two of them. Female. He felt their distress. The grief. The silence.

The Doctor... dying… Tristan was dying…

New watch, James?

Startled out of his thoughts, James closed the pocket watch with a snap. He ran a hand over his forehead, his fingers coming away wet. It took some will power to slow his breathing and let reality sink in. Nearing diner time, he had sat down in his favourite chair to try and relax before he had to tend to Helen again. Siegfried was towering over him, the man frowned. "Such excessive expenses. Is that wise, James?"

James opened his mouth to object.

"It's just like that encyclopaedia, remember buying that? You went to auction to buy.."

"The watch isn't mine." He interjected. He was about to add that it was Tristan's when it occurred to him that Siegfried would then confiscate it. At best Tristan would get in trouble with his brother, at worst, Siegfried would open the watch. That thought stopped him cold. He swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"It's mine." Caroline stood in the doorway of the living room.

Siegfried's eyes shot from her to James and back again. "Yours?"

Caroline ignored him. "Helen's asleep, James. Do you want me to stay for a bit longer?"

"Oh no, you and Siegfried must have plans."

"He's got evening surgery Haven't you, dear?"

Before Siegfried could answer, she continued. "Let me help, James. You've been cooped up in this house for far too long."

Siegfried glared at them.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "I loaned him the watch, so he can keep track of time." When Siegfried raised an eyebrow, she elaborated. "In order to tend to Helen at lunch and such. Honestly, you vets tend to forget whether it's day or night once you are our on call."

"Well, I do have some errands to run before the shops close."

"Fine, that's settled then, James." Siegfried slapped him on the back.

"Siegfried, be a dear and get my vest from the motor car. Skeldale house gets so chilly in the evening. How you have managed to live here all these years without catching a cold is beyond me."

James was about to follow Siegfried out the front door when Caroline called after him in the hallway.

"You know Tristan is not who he says he is."

She might as well have dropped a bucket of cold water over him. His feet felt stuck to the floor. He froze. One hand on the door knob.

"I did some digging right after Siegfried and I got married. I wanted to get to know his brother better. But to my horror, the things I read, little facts, they did not add up. Eventually I found out he's not even remotely related to Siegfried. I don't know what his intentions are, but they can't be any good."

James turned around, he took a deep breath. "Don't be daft, Caroline."

She walked up to him, her strong perfume wafting in his face.

"You don't seem too surprised now." She paused. "Might that be because you have your own suspicions?"

James straightened. "Look. Whatever is going on, whatever you discovered. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Have you talked to Siegfried about this?"

She sighed. "Still in denial then." Her eyes shot fire. " No. I will not stand by and watch Tristan destroy Siegfried! I love him too much to put him through losing a brother through pain and deceit. I want you to get him to leave, James."

James blinked. "What?"

"Get Tristan to leave. Of his own free will. Confront him. It will save Siegfried a lot of pain."

"Confront him? With what?"

"Oh come on. You have your doubts. I know you do."

James stared at her. First the watch, now Caroline. Was the entire Farnon family going crazy of was it just him? "You're the one who just lied to Siegfried, Caroline. Not Triss." He couldn't help but stand up for his friend. For both his friends.

"Would you'd rather I had told him the watch belongs to Tristan?"

His silence seemed to motivate her to continue.

"While investigating the Farnon's family past, I noticed Tristan kept a close eye on this watch. It wasn't easy, but when I finally got a chance to study it, I made out the markings on the cover. It's a family crest, James. One that has nothing to do with the Farnon's.

Siegfried would want to know where his brother has got it from. Which would lead to questions, and that would lead to truths not yet ready to be told. I don't want to put my husband through all that."

"How do I know you're not lying to me now."

Caroline smile did not reach her eyes. "I can't confront him with this. Tristan has never liked me and never will. Probably because he knows I'm onto him. He will stay around just to spite me. But you're his friend. He trusts you. Talk to him. See if he denies any of it. What have you got to lose?"

My sanity, James thought. He would never have believed one ounce of her story, had he not opened the watch. He wondered if she'd had the same experience. Had she opened the watch and seen what he had seen? Had that triggered her investigation? He shook his head. It didn't matter. He refused to believe Tristan bore any ill will toward Siegfried. At least this was something even the upsetting feelings and images flooding his mind corroborated. Contrary to Caroline's conviction, Tristan might even need his help. He hesitated. Could he leave her alone with Helen? Don't be ridiculous. She's Siegfried's wife.

He nearly walked into the door as his partner came in with his usual gusto, vest in hand. Not waiting to hear Siegfried ramble on about why the motor car was parked so far away, James left to find the one person who could help him clear his head.

The sun was setting over the moors when James caught sight of Tristan's car heading up a side road towards him. He'd done his shopping and was heading back to skeldale, hoping he'd caught up with Tristan halfway home. He hated to be right. As much as he enjoyed the company of his friend, he dreaded the coming conversation. Tristan looked utterly relaxed in the driver's seat, smoking a cigarette. Not at all like the terrible image of his friend dying. An image he wasn't able to shake. For a second he thought Tristan might ignore him and drive right past him. But then common sense kicked in. Sure enough his friend stopped.

"You all right, James? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Get out, Triss." He sounded hoarse. Harsher than he'd meant to.

"Ah, missing the daily call outs, the smell of scruffy pigs and the stomp through barnyard mud, are you now, James?" He sniffed out his cigarette and got out of the motor car. "I'd be happy to take on the house hold chores, while you take care of the likes of Biggins?"

At a loss as where to start, James walked off to straighten his thoughts. He stopped on the edge of the hillside, where the ground dropped off into the splendour of the moors. The last rays of sunshine bathed the landscape in a warm red glow of a seemingly welcoming home.

"James?"

He couldn't face him. Not yet. "Why are you here, Triss?"

"Here? Out on the moors? I was heading ho-"

"Caroline tells me you're not who you say you are."

"Caroline?"

There was a sudden quietness to Tristan's question, his voice laced with a hint of distress. James had expected a laugh, a banter, anything, but to his dismay there was no immediate denial. Frustration growing, he turned around.

"What's this all about, James?"

James swallowed as he studied his friends complexion. There was something there. A fear he could not put his finger on.

His throat closed. No, there had to be an explanation.

He felt a spark of doubt begin taking hold.

"She knows an awful lot about you."

"She's Siegfried's wife. Of course she knows a lot about me. "

"Yes, that's precisely my point."

"James, you know Caroline and I are not exactly the best of friends." He sounded confident. He sounded like Tristan trying to sooth the situation with a healthy amount of realism. "Okay, out with it. What did I do wrong now, what did she say?"

James nearly had to smile as his friend threw his hands in the air apparently resigned to a fate brought on by yet another prank gone slightly askew. Almost… if his next words had not been so damn important.

"That you're not a Farnon, you're not even related to Siegfried."

"Oh come on, James!"

He wanted to laugh, to cry out, do anything to appease his mind and put a stop to this ridiculous situation but for the small quiver in Tristan's voice. He would have missed it had he not known his friend so well. This was worse. Far worse than how he sounded when he'd called on James for help. Often times to avoid Siegfried's wrath. Because Tristan, when in trouble, wore his anxiety on his sleeve. This sudden show of subtlety was enough to widen his eyes.

"You believe her?" Tristan shook his head and paced away.

"Triss!" A pang of regret pooled in his stomach.

His friend turned, tight expression clashing with stormy blue eyes.

James almost buckled. Couldn't stand the broken look of trust. He pulled the watch out of his pocket, hoping that holding his ground would get him the explanation he needed to hear. "I believe this is yours."

Tristan took in the object. For a second his young friend looked aged, or was that James' imagination? Tristan reached for the watch. "Yes, well, thank you."

James felt his stomach grow hollow. Tristan's reaction was too calculated, too repressed. Denial at what could not be true clouded his mind when he snapped the watch back. "At first I though I was going mad." He raised the watch to his face. "Now I'm not so sure that I'm not going off the deep end here."

"You opened it?"

He looked at his friend. "Am. I. going. mad. Tristan."

Blue eyes met his, flicked back to the watch, then back at James again. "The watch is a gadget I picked up. It plays harmless tricks on your mind, just a bit of fun, that's all."

Tristan, if anything, had an abundance of survival instinct. He had a way of wiggling himself out of a tight spot like a fox evading the hunt. But James also had seen him panicked on a number of occasions, like now. This was the Tristan he'd come to know. "You're saying that what I saw, the unfamiliar setting, the unknown faces, were meant for entertainment?"

"Well, yes."

"I watched you die, Triss!" The words boiled to the surface, propelled by fear and anger he'd rarely ever felt, let alone expose someone else to it like this. "Tell me why that would strike you as entertaining!" Try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from yelling. Tristan was lying to him, something he'd never done before. "If Siegfried had found this watch, do you think he'd find it funny? Or Helen, or my son for that matter!"

Tristan stepped back. "They wouldn't."

"That's right, they wouldn't."'

"No, I mean, they shouldn't be able to find the watch. It has a perception filter," his friend spoke under his breath.

"What?" James blinked, not sure of what he heard.

Tristan looked up, shook his head. His expression genuinely fearful. "Don't do this, James."

James pulled his gaze away, then looked back, unable to deny his friend's plea. "That's hardly fair." He wanted more than anything to forget the whole thing. He took another deep breath, not releasing any of the tension pent up inside. How could he believe anything Tristan said? The distrust hurt, took him to a place foreign to him, turned him cold. He hated it. There was also Siegfried to consider. "Who's the Doctor, Triss?"

His friend stared at him, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

"Either you talk to me," James threatened. "Or I'm taking this watch straight to Siegfried." He hated the harshness, the honesty in his words. As a vet, he was used to making the hard decisions, to do what was necessary. He prided himself on being able to shut down his emotions and do his job. But even then, on those occasions when he had to for instance put down someone's priced animal, he did not feel like he did now. Knowing that if he didn't push this, he'd go insane.

Tristan rolled his eyes toward the sky, but James refused to back down. He caught his friend's gaze and held it, until a touch of defeat pained the younger man's features. "James, please."

"Who's The Doctor, Triss," James hissed.

Tristan turned quiet.

James had known he wouldn't like the answer. But he hadn't anticipated sudden fear sending a shiver up his spine. A strong sense of foreboding almost made him pull back his question.

Tristan turned to face him, his posture changing. He sighed. "Me." There was a subtle change to his voice, lower. "The Doctor is me."

TBC