Author's Note: Longer chapter to kinda make up for being gone so long.

Chapter 32: The Hidden Chest

Mike sat on the bed several hours later after having hand washed the pillow Micky had soiled. Rose was finally asleep, her head resting gently against his chest. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. His head had begun to throb a little and he figured that was because his ancestor's memories were pulling at him again. Though he didn't think now was the best time to be diving back into that. He started drifting off to sleep himself when he heard someone walk into the bathroom. He opened his eyes, but he didn't need to see her to know it was Ginny. Rose was still curled against him and Micky wouldn't have been strong enough to really walk much. He carefully pulled himself away from Rose to check on Ginny when he saw she hadn't closed the door behind her. He made his way to the doorway and watched her for a moment. She lifted up her shirt and was looking at herself in the mirror. It was the first time Mike noticed her stomach bulged a little. Not much, but just enough for it to be noticeable. Ginny only just seemed to notice his reflection watching her in the mirror.

"He's gonna see this," Ginny said softly. "He's gonna see this and know. We aren't exactly being fed enough to fatten up."

"First of all, I wouldn't say you were fattening up," Mike answered quietly so as not to wake Rose. "Second, if you don't want to tell Micky just yet, you don't have to. Your clothes are baggy enough where he won't notice."

"Not Micky," Ginny said turning around to face him. "Robert. If he comes in here again and…you know…when he takes my clothes off, he'll see. He'll see it and he'll know."

"Ginny, I won't let that happen, I promise," Mike said moving to embrace her.

"I think we've already proven we don't have much of a choice there," Ginny said.

"I know, but Ginny, I promise you I will do everything to keep him from touching you like that again," Mike said. "We will figure something out."

"Like what?" she asked sounding defeated.

"I don't know…" Mike started, but a thought occurred to him. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Meg," Mike said. "She could prove to be very useful."

"Perhaps, but we can't even guarantee she'll even come back in here again."

"I think she will. I'm not sure how yet, but I think we can use her to our advantage. She seems to care about us and I really think she'll be able to come back. We can talk to her and try to convince her to keep Robert off our backs for a while. Hopefully enough time for Peter and Davy to find us."

"Hopefully," Ginny said holding her stomach protectively. He knew how scared she was. He felt it, too. The thought of what Robert might do to her child…it was too much for Mike. Pain tore through his head again, forcing him to wince and put his hand to his head in a vain attempt to ease the pain. He could almost feel Ginny's worried eyes on him now as she spoke. "Your head is hurting again."

"Yes, but it's not the right time," Mike said opening his eyes again. "We need to watch over Micky."

"Rose and I can do that," Ginny said. "If you're going to even have a chance of trying to keep Robert away from me, you need to be at your prime for that and you aren't when you're in pain."

"Are you sure you and Rose can take care of him by yourself?" Mike asked.

"Yes," Ginny answered. "It'll just be a few hours anyway at most. We can handle that."

"Ok, but not tonight," Mike said. "You need your sleep. We'll do it tomorrow. Just go lay down and sleep for a bit. If not for me, for the baby."

"Ok," Ginny said after a moment of contemplation. He led her back out into the main room where she curled up next to Micky and closed her eyes. He watched her for a moment before lying in bed with Rose. She didn't wake, but moved to wrap her arm around him. He closed his eyes and felt the dull ache pushing at the back of his head. He tried to ignore it to get at least a little sleep, but also had to battle the worry he felt over Micky. If Micky seized again, they'd need to be awake to help him. Ginny will feel it and wake up, Mike told himself trying to will himself to sleep at least a little. Even an hour would do him some good. But he couldn't. A few hours after lying down, he felt Rose start to tense and heard her make a strangled gasping sound. He opened his eyes and looked at her, worried. She was still sleeping; she was having another nightmare. Mike relaxed a little knowing she wasn't in any real danger, but was still angered knowing she had been hurt so badly. This wasn't the first nightmare she'd had with him next to her and he knew it wouldn't be her last. But he also knew what helped her get through it. Micky did it to help Ginny with her nightmares, too.

Mike carefully started running his fingers through her hair and sang to her. He chose a song she liked from when they grew up that he'd sometimes sing to her during his attempts to serenade her: Born to Love You. The words held meaning for him and he remembered falling in love with her all over again as he sang them. My life was empty. So blue and forlorn. And then you put your hand in mine. And I knew why I was born. She really had been one of the things that gave his life purpose. She had pulled him from that empty feeling after he'd lost his parents. He knew he was born to love her. As he sang to her, her body relaxed next to his and he knew her nightmare was changing. He hoped it was changing into a dream about him loving her, but as long as it wasn't Robert hurting her, he didn't care. As long as she felt safe. He pulled her tightly to him as he finished and she slept peacefully the rest of the night.


Peter sat next to Piper in silence. Night had just fallen, but the city lights drowned out the darkness. Music was coming out of the radio quietly and Peter was barely paying attention. They had just left the pawn shop and deemed it to have been a dead end. The owner had met with William, but didn't have what William had been looking for. Apparently, William had gotten information somewhere there was a chest with valuable books inside it. It seemed the bookstore was a more logical place to find that, so that's where they were driving. The little research they'd done had given them an owner's name and that the shop dealt in antique books; exactly what William thought might be in that chest he'd been searching for. What kind of books and why William might want them was unclear, but Peter hoped the bookstore would provide the answers.

"Daryl and I are just good friends, you know," Piper said suddenly startling Peter out of his thoughts.

"What?" Peter mumbled.

"Daryl and I are just good friends," Piper repeated. "Really good friends."

"Ok," Peter said. He knew why she was bringing this up. She'd read his thoughts well in the kitchen earlier. "You two share a lot. Doctors and Assassins."

"Yes, and we grew really close in med school because of that," Piper said. "But he's like a brother to me. I'm not really his type of romantic interest."

"You aren't?" Peter asked dumbfounded. How could anyone not love her? She was smart, beautiful, eloquent and so much more.

"Peter, he's gay," Piper said.

"What?" Peter asked a little startled at the revelation. "That's great. I mean…maybe not if you liked him…but…I should stop talking."

"It's ok," Piper said with a giggle. "So that is really what was bothering you? You thought there might be something between me and Daryl?"

"Maybe," Peter said.

"Daryl is sweet and a good man, but I don't really want to be with an Assassin," Piper said. "I told you, one of the things I like about you the most is that you're a pacifist. I've seen way too much loss with the Assassins. Women lose their husbands. Children lose their parents…" She trailed off a little, clearly thinking about her own losses and this newest one she and Willow faced.

"You want something different," Peter said.

"Yes," Piper said. "And you are everything I've been looking for. You have nothing to worry about. I like you, Peter. Present circumstances may prevent us from really developing a real relationship, but I'm not about to look for someone else."

"I like you, too," Peter said, suddenly at a loss for words again. He didn't need to come up with more to say, however, because they arrived at their destination. Piper parked in front of the antique bookstore. And they realized the front door had been damaged as though it had been kicked in after being locked.

"Peter, stay as quiet as you can and stay close to me," Piper said wrenching off her seat belt and grabbing her gun.

"Okay," Peter said as the pair exited the car. He knew Piper also had a few knives strapped in strategic locations under her clothes, but he didn't really have anything because he didn't want to. He didn't want to accidentally hurt anyone. He didn't want to purposely hurt anyone. But he feared he might be forced to soon. They carefully walked into the shop, Piper holding firmly onto her gun as she eased her way in. The shop was in disarray. Shelves were knocked over and books littered the floor. It broke his heart to see a few of the pages had come dislodged from their jackets. Books should be treated with respect, but he had the impression the people who did this didn't care about books or the owner of the shop. They were looking for something.

At first the room appeared vacant of anyone and he wondered if they were perhaps too late. After moving further toward the back of the store, however, he heard muffled voices from below him somewhere in the basement. He and Piper looked around for the door to get downstairs and that's when they noticed the man lying behind the sales counter. He was bleeding profusely from a wound to the chest. Piper motioned for Peter to help the man as she moved to a door behind him. Peter knelt down next to the man quickly and quietly.

"It's gonna be ok," Peter said quietly, though he wasn't sure about that. Peter was about to start trying to help save him, but the man suddenly grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in close.

"You are an Assassin?" the man said weakly and hoarsely.

"I…I work with them," Peter said a little startled.

"You…you cannot let…let the Templars…take it," the man choked. He wasn't looking at Peter, but at a shelf next to him. Peter followed his gaze and saw a small metal key taped to the underside of the shelf. The key was on a chain with a small metal ring with a thick band dangling from the other end of the chain. Peter was about to take the key when he heard gunshots go off in the basement, 6 total. He froze in the silence fearing the worst. If Piper died, he'd be left alone to fend off the Templars in the basement. Then the man pulled Peter even closer and spoke again; weaker and hoarser this time. "Don't let them have it… under any circum… circumstances… keep it… safe…"

"Keep what safe?" Peter asked quietly, afraid to alert the Templars to his presence. But the man's grip had already loosened and now his arm fell limp at his side. Peter felt for a pulse on the man's wrist when he realized the man wasn't breathing anymore. There was nothing. Peter sighed and felt his heart sink. The man died when Peter was supposed to help him. He wanted to stay and mourn the man, but he was afraid if he didn't leave that he would be next. He didn't even allow himself to think about what might have happened to Piper. He grabbed the key from under the counter and stood, hoping to find wherever it went to keep the man's dying wish. When he spun around, a man was smiling at him and holding a gun.

"Give me that key, boy," the man said. The smile on his face was eerie. He had long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and blood from a deep cut on his arm. Peter was gripped with fear and didn't know what to do.

"I'm not giving you anything," Peter said with a courage he didn't know he had.

"I'm not going to ask you nicely," the man said and pulled the trigger. Peter ducked as quickly as he could, but knew he would never be able to dodge a bullet. He expected to feel the bullet rip through his flesh, but he felt nothing. He ducked behind a bookshelf, still gripping the key tightly in his hand and looked around for something he could use to at least subdue the man. At his feet was an old shield like knights bore in medieval times. He hated to damage an artifact like that, but he had to defend himself and the shield was heavy enough to knock someone out. Piper was still nowhere to be seen. He'd tie up the man and check the basement for her before looking for whatever this key opened. He figured if any other Templars survived, they'd have been standing with the man now hunting him.

In the quick moments it took him to formulate this plan, he heard the man curse his aim and fire another round. Wood splintered above Peter's head and in that instant he grabbed the shield. The sound was drowned out by the sound of shattering wood as the bullet lodged in a shelf in front of Peter. He then jumped up, holding the shield in front of him and charged at the man. With a rush of courage and rage that came up from deep inside him, mourning the loss of William, the man on the floor, and his friends, he roared and hit the man over the head with the shield as the man fired another shot. He wasn't strong, but he was strong enough to knock the man out. The bullet he'd fired bounced off the shield and embedded itself into the wall. Peter didn't think the shield would be strong enough for that, but was grateful he was apparently wrong. The man slumped to the floor and the gun clattered next to him. Peter dropped the shield and picked up the gun, hopeful he wouldn't have to use it.

"Peter," came a sudden voice from the basement door. Peter turned to see Piper leaning against the doorway looking at him with awe. She was holding her stomach and blood leaked out slightly between her fingers.

"I had to," Peter said rushing over to help her. "You're hurt."

"Yeah, sorry I didn't get up here faster," Piper said. "I had one more that wouldn't die and he knocked my gun from my hand. And of course I know you had to do that to him. He was shooting at you. I'm just glad you weren't hurt."

"No, but you are," Peter said again as he coaxed her to a nearby toppled chair.

"We don't have time for that," Piper said. "The cops will be alerted to all this noise soon. We have to clear out of here. Is the man ok?"

"No, he didn't make it," Peter said sadly. "But he said something to me. He said "you can't let the Templars have it" and he gave me this key."

"Did he say what it was for?" Piper asked eyeing the key Peter now held up for her.

"No," Peter said.

"Then we'll have to look quickly," Piper said. "Chances are whatever that opens is in the basement. They already searched up here. They were searching the basement when I interrupted them."

"You aren't in any shape to go back down there," Peter said putting the key in his pocket.

"I'll be fine," Piper said already heading back that way. Peter cast a glance at the man he'd knocked out. He had to restrain him somehow in case he woke up again while Piper was in the basement. He looked around and found some curtains lying on the floor having been stripped from the windows. That would have to do. He was worried about Piper, but also worried about the man waking up. He quickly grabbed the curtain and looped them around the man's hands and feet before tying a knot and running downstairs. There were three men down here on the floor, one with his head twisted at an odd angle. Piper was already moving things aside to clear a spot on the floor.

"What did you find?" Peter asked trying not to look at the bodies of the Templars on the ground.

"A hollow spot on the floor," Piper answered. Peter helped her shift some things off the floor. "Something's under here. What did you restrain him with?"

"The Templar upstairs? A curtain."

"Good, we can pin all this on him." Peter nodded as they cleared the last of the rubble. Peter saw one of the planks on the floorboard was loose and he knelt down to lift it up. There was a chest beneath it. Was this the chest William had been looking for?

"Is this it?" Peter asked though he already thought he knew the answer.

"Probably," Piper answered. "Lift the rest of the boards up; we have to get this out of here." Peter and Piper worked quickly to get the other boards up and then lifted the large chest. Piper groaned with pain at the effort; the chest was quite heavy.

"Take it easy," Peter said. "You're injured."

"I'll be ok," Piper said. "We need to get this out of here." With a grunt, Piper and Peter lifted the chest between them and up the stairs. Peter felt bad, but he didn't think he could carry it on his own. Not without doing it very slowly and he already heard sirens off in the distance. They really would have to hurry. Piper quickly untied the man on the ground who was still unconscious and moved a few things around him to make it look like the shield fell on him knocking him out. Peter dragged the chest closer to the door as she moved quickly. She returned and helped him carry the chest out the door and to the car just as the sirens got even closer. They were really pushing it. They loaded the chest in the car and sped off just as the cops turned the corner.