Author's note: My apologies for the shortness of this chapter, but I wanted to get something out, to show you guys I'm still around. Last chapter is almost finished as well, so hold onto your seats! It's coming.

Chapter 10

The ghostly druids spoke in soft hushed tones, their language as old as they were and it definitely wasn't English. The soulless black eyes sometimes glanced their way so it wasn't really a secret what they were discussing, the outcome was though.

The Precept was listening intently, trying to hear the conversation and translate it. His knowledge of the Gaelic language was somewhat rusty and it took most of his attention. His younger companion was silent as well, though for different reasons. Nick had developed a fever, his wound had gotten infected due to the rain and mud it had been exposed to. He shivered from time to time, his pale face covered by a slight sheen of sweat. There wasn't much time left.

"Can you make out what they're saying?"

Derek only nodded in reply, yes, he understood most of what they were saying but he didn't want to tell his friend all the details. A glance to his watch affirmed his thoughts, it was almost time.

"So?"

Nick never had been one of the most patient types, and in this situation for once the Dutchman couldn't blame him. Still, he wasn't sure what to say, how much to tell without getting them even more in trouble. Nick always had a tendency to act first and think later. Luckily the decision was taken away from him when the five started to approach them. Not that he could call it that much of a luck.

The Ex-Seal sat up more straight, wide hazel eyes locking with Derek's, because he still didn't know what was going to happen.

"Whatever happens, think about yourself," Derek told the young man quickly before their time was up.

"What?"

Nick slowly started to realise what kind of decision the druids had made when they focussed their attention solely on his older friend, grabbing him roughly and pulling him towards the door without much care for Derek at all. He couldn't let this happen, he couldn't just sit back and watch while his friend was being sacrificed. He started to rise on shaky legs, using the wall he had been leaning against as support. One of the ghosts who still had his hands free, well, sort of hands, saw it and shouted something angry, taking the sharp knife Nick recognised immediately as the one used in the rituals.

"Nick sit down!"

Nick heard the frantic plea but wasn't going to back down, knowing Derek wouldn't survive it if he did. So he was going to take this one chance, even if the outcome of this chance wasn't going to be healthy for him.

Derek understood it, he would have done the same thing if the situation had been reversed but he didn't like what was happening. He could only watch as his young friend charged bravely, but there was barely a fight. There was some struggling, then a flash of the knife and a horrifying yelp of pain and that was it.

"No! Please, just let me help him…please!"

Derek's plea fell on deaf ears, he struggled as he was being dragged away from the small shed, looking back once more before the door closed behind him with a deafening bang. He knew there wasn't anything he could do at this point but struggle and plea, it was too late. The image of Nick lying there on the cold floor in a rapidly growing puddle of blood was forever etched in his mind while he was being dragged to the stone circle a small distance ahead of them. It was all too late.

TBC