Two Days Later.
"The old house."
Barnabas Collins sipped brandy by the fire as a summer storm pelted rain against the window. He felt himself slipping into a thick cloud, a cloud of forgetfulness. Raindrops periodically fell into the fire with a hiss, their forms dancing then disappearing. He watched them transfixed, trying to drown the troubles that churned in his mind. A knock at the door broke the silence. Who could be out on such a miserable night? Slowly he slipped from the warmth of his chair and opened the door. The wind and rain rushed passed him; the lightning revealed the form of Eliot Stokes, raincoat and hat dripping profusely.
"Eliot," Barnabas exclaimed, "Come in, come in."
Eliot Stokes stepped into the entryway. Barnabas noticed immediately something different; Eliot had not spoken or offered to remove his raincoat and hat. Standing eye-to-eye Barnabas noted a certain intensity that surrounded Stokes making him appear larger than life. The cool rain ran down Eliot's cheek unnoticed. Alarmed, Barnabas took a step back.
"I'm here to talk about Julia," Eliot spoke for the first time.
Barnabas Collins nervously twisted his ring. "Won't you come in by the fire, have some brandy." He stepped into the drawing room and gestured to a seat.
Eliot followed him into the room but remained standing, his hands at his side.
"Have you noticed Julia's depression since our return from 1840?"
Barnabas rubbed his hand and twisted the onyx ring, finding it difficult to meet Eliot's intense gaze.
"No," he began nervously, "Actually she seemed glad to be back in our time, I thought. She mentioned how good it was to be back in modern clothes. No I didn't notice."
Eliot's eyes narrowed, voice cool, "I thought not."
Eliot stepped closer, the water droplets on his coat and hat glistening in the candlelight. "Have you noticed each day the long exhausting hours Julia spends at Wynncliff, avoiding the return to Collinwood?"
Barnabas looked off to the side to avoid the professor's persistent stare. Collins felt more and more anxious; he had never seen this dark and brooding side of Eliot Stokes. "Julia always keeps late hours I assumed that was part of being a doctor. I never realized Julia was avoiding Collinwood."
"I thought so," Eliot replied again.
"Have you noticed that Julia has not been eating well, and is mentally and physically exhausted?"
"What is the purpose of all this, Eliot?" Barnabas tried to halt this line of questioning.
Stokes stepped closer. "After all this time you should know how Julia feels about you."
Barnabas turned and faced the fireplace trying to put distance between them.
The professor continued, "And did it ever occur to you that your expressions of undying love for Valerie, and your desire to stay in 1840 have played a large part of Julia's growing depression?"
Barnabas stuttered slightly, "J-Julia is a dear and devoted friend, she knows that."
Eliot's hands balled into fists, he took a step toward Collins, but quickly thrust his clenched fists into his coat pockets. His voice deepened with emotion, wavering slightly. "Either you're the shallowest man I've ever met or the most ignorant, I suspect you're both."
Collins turned quickly and glared into Eliot's face, now only inches from his. "I resent that!" he snapped.
Eliot's eyes blazed, "I hope you do!"
The room seemed eerily quiet. The snap of the fire and the patter of the rain on the window seemed exceedingly loud.
"You have callously used the love and loyalty bestowed on you by this wonderful woman," Eliot stepped even closer; he could see the fear in Collins' eyes. "You have the nerve to resent the truth. I would gladly defend her; perhaps you would like to challenge me!"
Collins stepped back, bumping into the mantle. "Is that a threat?"
"You decide," Eliot replied.
Barnabas stammered, "Julia is very important to me, she knows that, we've been through so much together. I don't understand what gives you the right to barge in here and make these accusations."
"I merely asked you a series of questions about Julia, questions you should be able to answer easily if you truly cared about her. You assume too much, Barnabas Collins!"
Eliot paused and gave a deep sigh, his voice taking a softer more wistful tone as he openly expressed his thoughts. "I honestly hoped when I came here tonight that you would tell me Julia was the love of your life that you could not live without her. I hoped you would tell me how each day began with thoughts of her, and how much you want to be with her, only her."
The professor's face saddened, "She should be loved with a love so deep that if sending her into the arms of another man would fulfill her dreams then so be it."
Barnabas' eyes widened, Eliot's words shocked him, his mind raced to understand.
Time seemed momentarily suspended between them.
"Eliot," Barnabas began, "Julia's left Collinwood, she's resigned from Wynncliff, she's gone. She told me good-bye as only Julia Hoffman could and in no uncertain terms."
Eliot's eyes widened as though he had taken a blow to the abdomen. Julia was gone. The big man was silent.
Barnabas Collins' voice softened, "You didn't know?"
Eliot slowly turned, and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Outside the old house.
Clouds streamed overhead allowing moonlight to break through the swaying canopy of furs. Eliot Stokes sat inside his car watching a spherical bead of rain clinging to the car window, suspended like time. How long had he watched the force of gravity pull on the shiny bead? Finally the drop quivered, the tension broken, the droplet streamed downward, swerving, racing to the bottom, disappearing in to oblivion.
Gone.
Gone forever!
"Gone." He whispered his face turning away from the car window.
'Don't you understand, I don't need you! Leave me alone!'
~~~tbc~~~