1815 - A Dark Place

Chapter 2 - Clara

Mike arrived in Philadelphia a week later in a terrible mood. The ride had been exhausting. His arm still hurt. The darn Shifter-bitch had broken it thoroughly. Richardson had brought him to a capable doctor. But even the man couldn't hex a broken bone away. He had steadied it well but Mike could hardly sleep from the pain it still caused when he moved wrong. And not only this kept him from proper night sleep. He suffered night terrors about Finn. He just couldn't get the picture of his destroyed body out of his head.

He stopped his stallion in front of Rutherford's fine manor. It was an impressive building. With huge white pillars which steadied the upper-level balconies in the front. A nice veranda went completely around one side to the back where a garden with perfectly trimmed hedges and springs lay.

Mike sighed frustrated. He would never be able to offer Diana anything like this. He hated to admit it but maybe Henry Wilmington was right. He was not good enough for her. "Fuck, Campbell, it's been over a year. You have to forget about her," he told himself angrily. Every time he tried to live up to this order, it broke his heart after a few heartbeats.

"Mike!" Clara shouted happily at him, running across the yard to greet him.

He put a smile on his face and turned to Wade's bride. "Clara, I hope everyone is fine."

To his surprise, she gave him a short hug that made him flinch in pain. "Ouch! Careful, Clara."

She released him, looking at him concerned. "What is wrong, are you injured?"

Mike nodded, "Aye, I broke my arm during a hunt. But the doctor said it will be fine with enough rest."

"Oh, I didn't know. Then you should rest from the long ride. Come in and we can have tea together. I made a lemon cake this morning. Father will be back in the evening. So now you have the honor of my company. I'll have someone take care of your horse." She pulled him with her to the house. "And about your question, everyone is fine. Though I will be perfectly fine when you have brought me to Wilmington Farm."

Mike looked perplexed. "Sorry, Clara, what do you mean by that?"

She smiled satisfied over his astonishment. "I told Wade I would arrive earlier in Glastonbury because I will travel back to Connecticut with you. Who else gets me safer in Wade's hands than his Knight?"

To say Mike was surprised was an understatement. He stammered, "Uhm, sure, okay. If Wade is okay with that."

Clara's smile got even bigger. "Perfect. Chip will drive us with the carriage. I have already packed most of my belongings. So we can leave whenever you are ready. By the way, traveling with the carriage will do your arm much better than riding."

They went through the house to sit on the veranda and looked out over the garden. Clara's lemon cake was delicious and fitted the beautiful July afternoon. Mike thought back to New York City. The city had been much too big for his taste. He liked it in Hartford, though a big city too, it was nothing in comparison to NYC. The Wilmington Farm on the other hand was very much like the Guardian's manor. Clara would like it there.

"Tell me about the hunt. You wrote to my father that you would be late because of a case of some slit throats and missing hearts." Clara asked interested while taking a sip from her fine china tea cup, looking like she had asked about the weather.

Mike smirked. Wade had made a good choice. With her at his side, he would be a great Guardian. "I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you about hunts, Clara."

She gave him a mischievous smirk over her cup before she put it down on the table. "Wade can count himself lucky to get a wife who knows exactly what is asked of her with the Brotherhood business. His hunters and especially his Triad members need a female hand from time to time. Who could be better suited than me, a Guardian's daughter and soon a Guardian's wife."

What a woman. Holy Mother! "Probably you are right. Did your father talk to you about hunts a lot?"

Clara huffed slightly. "Of course, everyone needs someone to talk to and with the rest of the old Triad not always around I was his closest confidant at home. My brother never intended to be a hunter. So did you find out what monster had killed these poor people?"

Mike sighed. "Aye, and I took care of it. Though I was too late to save Miller."

"Finn Miller? He is one of the hunters in New York City, right? What happened to him?"

"I found him murdered in his room." The picture of destruction on Finn's dead body appeared before his mind's eye and he shuddered. This was nothing Clara should be concerned about. She might be well acquainted with the Brotherhood business but there was no need to get detailed about how scattered he had found Finn. Mike averted his gaze, staring at the tablecloth. When he felt Clara's hand on his, resting on the table, he glanced up surprised.

"I'm sorry you found him like that." Clara looked at him full of understanding.

"He smiled half-heartedly at her, "You don't have to be sorry. This is the risk of the job. Nevertheless, I feel responsible for his death. If I had been there earlier…" Mike sighed, running a hand through his half-long hair. "Wade is damn right with his new number one rule. If he had turned to Richardson immediately and not waited until I arrived, he could still be alive."

Clara took her hand back and studied him. "I'm sure he didn't want to ask Richardson for help. Hasn't Miller slept with Richardson's wife? I'm sure Richardson would have killed him if he had shown up on his doorstep."

"You know all the gossip, don't you?" Mike smirked at her.

"It is important to have your eyes and ears everywhere. It's all we women are allowed to do, isn't it?"

He laughed. "I have the feeling you would make a good hunter if we train you a bit, even for a woman," he twinkled at her.

She gave him a challenging look. "You won't beat me in a shooting. Father always took me to practice on the shooting range."

*** EST ***

The afternoon went on pretty uncharacteristically for an afternoon tea with a lady. Including happy chatter and wild theories about monsters and hunts. Mike ended up telling Clara every detail of the things concerning the hunt in New York.

"I'm glad you got away with only a broken arm and the cut to your cheek. The scar will give you an adventurous look," she joked.

"How nice of you."

"The ladies love scars and the heroic stories to tell about them. Trust me."

Mike's smile faded. He had enough scars to tell stories from and he had no woman he longed to impress with them.

She looked at him concerned. "I shouldn't have said that, forgive me."

Mike frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"Wade told me about you and Diana. I'm so sorry about how this turned out for you. When you need someone to talk to, I'm always there for you."

Mike felt embarrassed and exposed. Wade seemed to trust Clara a lot. But he had no right to talk about things concerning only him alone.

Clara looked at him unsure. "Did I say something wrong, Mike? I didn't want to offend…"

"No, it's okay. It wasn't something you said." Mike put the napkin aside and got up. "Would you excuse me, Clara? I will retreat to my room for a while. I'm tired from the ride."

Clara got up too, "Of course. You know the way, don't you?"

"Sure, thank you, Clara." Mike hurried inside the house and up the stairs to the guest rooms.

Finally alone in his room, he angrily brushed the tears away that had sneaked out of his eyes. How could only the mention of her still bring him down like this? It was over a year! He had to get this under control before the wedding. Diana would be there with her husband and her son. What should he do if he ran into her? He was sure he would. He was the groom's best man and she was his only sister. There was no way he would not meet her.

He had no idea how he would deal with that. He hadn't talked to her; he hadn't dared to write to her. So far everyone around him had skipped carefully around the topic 'Diana' except for Clara. He knew she didn't do it on purpose or to hurt him. She just didn't mince words. She couldn't know what it would cause him.

Mike felt like his ascot constricted him. Without much of a thought, he fumbled with the knot turning his right hand wrongly, and hissed under the pain it caused his break. "Shit!" This little mistake broke the levee and he went down sitting on the edge of the bed crying over his whole situation.

Desperately he tried to gain the upper hand over his feelings. Darn feelings! He would be better off without them. Like so often lately he fumbled the bottle out of his duffle. He only hesitated for a moment before he took a long swig.

He knew it was wrong to drink. He knew that the alcohol had cost his uncle his life. But it numbed his feelings, numbed the pain in his arm, and filled the hole in his heart at least for a while.

An hour later the bottle was empty and Mike was pretty much numb. He didn't hear the knock on the door and only noticed someone was in the room when he felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake.

"Mike?" Clara's voice was full of concern. "Mike, can you hear me?"

Scolding himself for drinking so much he pushed his body into a sitting position. "Argh, Clara? Why are you waking me? Is something wrong?" Mike groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"No, my father arrived."

Fuck, Mike couldn't face Rutherford like this. What had gotten into him? "'m sorry, Clara."

"Don't worry. He asked me to tell you he is too exhausted from the ride and you will talk tomorrow."

Mike felt relieved, brushing a hand over his foggy head.

He heard Clara collecting the empty bottle from the floor and putting it on the table. "Are you sure you don't wanna talk to someone? Or has the bottle had any solutions for you."

"You're making mockery over me though you have no idea what it feels like, getting your heart torn apart. Lea' me alone," Mike slurred, biting his numb lips which had already told too much.

"What was it that brought you so down this afternoon? It was something I said, right? About Diana?"

He looked up, giving Clara an angry stare. "Don't use her name! It's hurting me to think about her or even hear her name." He was instantly sorry for his aggressive words. She hadn't deserved his anger. "Sorry, Clara, I shouldn't speak to you like that. You should go, I'm no good company at the moment."

She stayed where she was, looking at him. Mike got unsure why she hadn't left. He looked up at her, seeing her searching for words.

"I'm so sorry that you are hurting this bad. But this," she held the empty bottle up in front of him. "is not the way to deal with it. Talk to me. I know it helps best to trust someone with your feelings instead of drowning in them. I know you men always have to pretend that you are not affected by anything bad that happens to you. But this will only eat up your soul. You are too precious to let this happen to you. Wade needs you. He counts on you in every way. Whatever you tell me it will stay between us, I swear." Clara pulled the chair from the small table and took a seat, waiting.

Mike shot her an unsure glance, staring back at his hands in front of him. "You won't let go, will you?"

"No, I will sit here as long as it takes until you finally express your hurt and fears."

"I'm … I'm afraid of … of seeing her again."

"You mean at the wedding?"

Mike nodded. "I have no idea how to survive that. She would be there with her … her husband and her kid…. I can't. I just can't. Wade needs to find someone else for his best man."

"Oh Mike, have you told Wade about how bad you are feeling about this?"

Mike only shook his head. Wade had been so excited and vibrant about the wedding and everything. He couldn't tell him how he feared this day.

Clara took his hand for the second time this day. "And what do you feel when I say Diana's name?"

Mike met her gaze. "It … it hurts. I know I will never have her in my arms again; never can kiss her again; the thought alone, makes my heart ache like it was forcefully ripped out of my chest like Finn's. This is how I feel - dead." He nearly choked by the last word, losing it completely. Mike hid his face in his hands and couldn't hold back the flow of tears. It was so humiliating. If he wasn't so drunk, he would've never told anyone about how bad he still felt.

Clara got up and brought her arms around him. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here for you." When Clara started to stroke over his hair comfortingly he began sobbing harder, hiding his face in the fabric of her fine dress.

*** EST ***

Mike was a mess after that. He had fallen asleep sobbing helplessly in Clara's arms. Now he woke with a mean headache. His eyes felt puffy from crying. He was alone in his room. Clara must have gone after he had fallen asleep. He sighed heavily. He should beg Clara for pardon. His behavior had been absolutely incorrect. He went over to the basin to get his head straight, washing his face with a bit of fresh water. Though physically completely undone, mentally he felt surprisingly better.

He went down to the dining room but found no one. A glance at the clock in the hallway told him it was long after midnight. Mike needed something to eat and with a bit of luck, his headache would get better after that. He had missed supper. Strolling into the kitchen area he found a plate covered with a cloth that someone had put a piece of paper with his name on it on top. Mike smiled at the sight, taking the plate with him to his room.

He felt much better with a full stomach and quickly fell back to sleep.

*** EST ***

They were settled in the carriage before Mike found an opportunity to talk to Clara about yesterday. At breakfast, he had met Thomas Rutherford. They talked long and Thomas wanted to know details about the hunt too, and told Mike what he had prepared for him to take to Wade, including his daughter.

Chip spurred the horses and they left the Rutherford's after a long goodbye scene between Clara and her father, though they would see each other again in three months at the wedding.

They drove for a while and Mike didn't know where to start a conversation. To his luck, Clara began. "How did you sleep, Mike?" she teased, smirking.

He snorted at her, "You have a black kind of humor, did anyone ever tell you?"

Clara raised a brow amused. "You don't say. And how did you sleep?"

"Actually, surprisingly good, before I woke up with an evil headache from crying my soul out in your arms," he studied her satisfied grin a moment longer. "Thank you, Clara. Though I have to apologize for my breakdown, it seems as if it has helped me."

"As I said. I'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on. And about the headache. I think you could blame the alcohol at least a bit too." Her face lost the mocking smirk. "Please, Mike, stop the drinking. There are people who care a lot about you. If you feel alone or desperate, turn to one of your friends. I hope you count me among them."

"Of course, we are friends, Clara. I'll try but I can't promise I will never drink again."

"That is all I'm asking from you." Clara gave him a warm smile. "How about we get to know each other a bit better."

Mike snorted over this request. "What else do you want to know? I think I never opened myself up like that to anyone else before."

"See, and this gives me the right to ask you just about anything , don't you think so?" there it was again - her triumphant smile. "So what is your favorite color?..."

*** EST ***

14th July 1815, Glastonbury, Connecticut

After the four days traveling together they knew enough of each other to be friends. Mike no longer only considered Clara a good choice for Wade but really as his friend as well, and enjoyed her company. She would fill the Wilmington Farm with a fresh spirit, that he was sure of. Too sad he didn't dare to put a foot on the property as long as Henry Wilmington was there. He hadn't forgotten the words Diana's father had thrown at him to never again set a foot in his house.

This was the reason he now refused to walk Clara inside. She shot him a questioning look after he had exited the carriage, turning to his horse to untie it from the back of the vehicle. "Mike? Don't you want to accompany me inside? Wade would be happy to see you too."

He studied her for a short moment. "I know. But I can't come with you. Chip will escort you. I already told him." Mike mounted up.

"But Mike? I don't understand." Clara stood confusedly in the yard while Chip waited for her.

"Let Wade tell you why. And tell him we will meet tomorrow at Bastian's." With that Mike spurred his horse and left.

*** EST ***

21st July 1815 - Wilmington Farm, Glastonbury, Connecticut

WADE

Wade sat in his office in the first level and mused about the past week. It was wonderful that Clara was already with him. Her company filled his heart with joy and hardly anyone could bring him down from his high over the whole week. His love had told him Mike had been good company during the long way from Philadelphia. Wade was glad the two got along. He had been wondering if his Brother could endure being around Clara and him, seeing them happy and in love while Mike had lost so much. He hadn't seen him with a girl or a lady during the whole year after his return. George had tried to take him to the taverns and brothels, but nothing more than a few bar fights and a lot of trouble had come out of that. Wade began to worry about Mike a lot. He did a lot of hunting, was on the road often and mostly he was alone with this dark aura surrounding him. It was like a wall had been erected between them. Not that Mike wasn't his Brother and best friend anymore, but Wade felt something was off.

Wade had not pressed Mike for any confessions about the year he had been gone. Sometimes he spoke of the men who had been in his prison cell or how much he had hungered those days, but Mike hid something from him and he had no idea why. No matter what it was, what he thought to be ashamed of, Wade would always love him like he was of his blood.

When Clara had arrived she told him that they had a good trip and she wondered why Mike refused to come inside. Wade had been unsure if he should tell Clara about the Beltane night. Of course she read him like an open book then too, and told him Mike said she should ask Wade about his reasons. So Wade had ended up telling his soon-to-be-wife everything about that night. She listened silently while Wade told her how badly the encounter with his father ended, and that he had told Mike never to set foot in his house.

After that she hadn't said anything about the matter. They had planned the wedding and Clara had been in Hartford with his mother. Wade saw with great relief that Clara got along perfectly with his mother and even well with his father, who's mood swings were hard to endure for all of them. Not so Clara, she just ignored Henry's grumpiness as if she hadn't heard it, and he saw his father even smiling from time to time in Clara's presence, and began to replace Diana with his new daughter in law.

"Wade? Are you in here?" The door to his office he had made of his father's old room was pushed open and his love entered with a bright smile on her lips. "There you are. What are you doing? Do you need any help with the books?" Clara asked, giving him a kiss on his forehead.

He got up, pulling Clara closer. He brought his arms around her small waist, trying to have her as close as possible. His parents would not come to the upper level and Wade didn't give a damn if one of the servants would see him kissing his bride. "I love you, Clara," Wade whispered while kissing her lovingly."

Clara smiled happily at him after he stopped to take a breath. "Wade!" she scolded him playfully. Her smile grew to a full smirk. "This is inappropriate for an unmarried couple," she repeated Priscilla's words when his mother had caught them kissing like that in the garden pavilion.

Wade smirked too, biting on his lower lip. "How long?" he asked.

"forty-two days," Clara answered, giggling.

Longingly Wade started to kiss Clara again. Placing kisses on her cheeks, along her delicate neck to the skin of her chest where the dress didn't cover. He kissed his way back up to her neck to the little spot where he knew she loved to be kissed. He felt her breathing increasing. How much he wanted her, forty-two days to the wedding - forty-two days and he would make love to her the whole night. Kissing and caressing every inch of Clara's perfect body.

"Oh, Wade…" she breathed letting out a moan when he began sucking slightly on her skin under his kisses.

"Clara? Wade?" Priscilla shouted from the hallway up to them.

They seperated heavily breathing. Clara turned to the opened door, answering Wade's mother, "I'm down in a minute, Priscilla. Wade can not decide if he wants to come along."

They smiled at each other out of breath. "Where do you wanna go with Mother?"

Clara straightened her dress while trying to calm her breathing. "We're driving to Hartford to the bookstore and to the tailor. Actually I wanted to ask if you'd join us?"

Wade sighed, he would prefer having Clara in his office covering her with more kisses, but when he got the chance to escape the books of the farm and even spend the day with her, seeing her happy, he'd gladly come along. He had an appointment with the others this afternoon anyway. "Of course, if you promise to help me with the books tomorrow."

"Of course, my Love. If you can manage to keep your hands to yourself when we are working?" she grinned sheepishly at him.

MIKE

Mike got up late. He heard the clattering of dishes in the kitchen. Mrs. Summers already prepared lunch. He fumbled for the pocket watch he usually put on the nightstand before heading to bed. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he tried to read the hour of the day. It said two o'clock? That couldn't be right. Oh, dang! He had forgotten to wind it up. Grumpily he went to the window, opening it. The bright summer sun was not even on its highest stand. A warm breeze flooded the stuffed air of his room at the Summers. Mike glanced to the bell tower of the church nearby to read the time. It was eleven-thirty. Sighing, he turned to the dresser.

He still didn't sleep well. And this damn broken bone didn't make it easier for him to dress and wash. He awkwardly fought to get his shirt off. He couldn't wait until he didn't have to wear this stupid splint anymore. He could not train, he could not fight, he couldn't even wipe his ass the way he was used to.

Suddenly the door was pushed open and Bastian stormed in. "Mike! I called for you like a hundred times. Did you forget we wanted to … " the rest of the sentence got stuck in Bastians throat. His friend stared shocked at Mike's scarred back.

Mike hadn't wanted his friend to see this. He let out a frustrated sigh readying himself for the questions that would follow.

Bastian came closer with a concerned expression, whispering to Mike," Mike, when did this happen?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. It's nothing to be concerned about anymore." Mike tried to hurry into his fresh shirt but failed with his still bandaged arm and got tangled helplessly in it.

"I am concerned about it! Who did this to you? Who flogged and branded my Brother!?" Bastian demanded to know, reaching his hand out to touch the scarred skin now.

It was rare that Bastian lost his temper but if someone hurt his family and friends, he was burning like the brightest flame for revenge. "I swear I'm gonna make him pay for this."

Mike stopped his useless attempts to cover his upper body from him and turned his face away, unable to look at Bastian. He felt Bastian's fingertips touching his scars. "Are the scars still hurting you?"

"Sometimes. But as I said it's nothing we have to worry about at the moment," Mike whispered.

"Are they from your time in prison?"

Mike only nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Mike." Bastian reached for the tangled shirt, "Let me help you, Brother."

When Mike was dressed with his friend's help, he felt the urge to tell him why he hadn't told them about it. But to be honest, he didn't even know the reason himself. Maybe he didn't want them to feel guilty that they had thought him dead while he was tortured in prison. Maybe he didn't want them to see how he was branded like a cow with the sign of the British crown. He hated the burn marks even more as the scars on his back.

Bastian helped Mike finish dressing before he spoke about the topic again. "If you got these scars in December during your imprisonment it would confirm my guess about Wade being a psychic."

Mike looked at him questioningly. "We tried everything to trigger it and nothing worked so far. Are you sure about this theory? Maybe he just felt his Brother being tortured and had a nightmare. We are not sure that he was really there."

"And what is with the second time? When you thought you'd seen him as a ghost? We have to find out what triggers it. We weren't the Triad then. We did not have the same connection like now when someone gets hurt."

"Wade didn't mention any more dreams except the two and in the last one he didn't even see you. But if he has an ability we have to know and maybe we can use it to our benefit. We had enough to do with you being back and taking over the Triad and all, so we stopped researching it for a while, but your scars are facts we can not leave unconsidered; it just fits together too perfectly. Maybe pain triggers it with people he loves?" Bastian was deep in thoughts now over his theories.

"You don't intend to torture me for that, do you?" Mike now got slightly concerned.

"Of course not!"

"Good, because I don't want you to tell Wade about my scars," Mike objected.

"But Mike, he has to know. He is your Brother as much as I am and I can speak for myself that I want you to share such things with us. We are your family, we care for you. Why did you never tell us that they tortured you?"

"He feels guilty enough for both of you for not searching for me, and he has other things to care about now. He doesn't have to know!"

The door was pushed open and Wade entered at that very moment. "What am I not supposed to know? Are you planning a wedding surprise?"

Mike closed his eyes and sighed frustrated again, swearing under his breath. Just perfect! And now he finally remembered why Bastian had woken him. They had an appointment with Wade in the afternoon. "Wade? Why are you here this early?"

*** EST ***

A bit earlier

CLARA

They drove to the bookstore Clara had wanted to go to first and she inspected the products there thoroughly before she decided on a diary. Wade wondered a bit and of course she read his expression right.

"Why are you looking like that? It is a gift for a friend, my dear."

Wade frowned even more. "What friend? You telling me you already made friends here in this one week?"

Clara giggled. "No but during the ride to you. Or are you afraid I will steal your best buddy?"

He was surprised. "It's for Mike? What should he do with a diary?"

She snorted at him. "Let me do my stuff and you do yours. What did you buy him for his birthday?"

"Mike didn't want to celebrate his birthday. I just invited him for a few drinks. Why are you asking?"

"So, you invited him to drink," she said more to herself than to Wade.

Wade got unsure, "Yeah, what is wrong with that?"

Clara studied him for a moment before she came closer. "Darling, do you know that he found Miller on his birthday?"

"I uhm, no he didn't mention anything."

"I believe he needs a real gift, or do you want your Brother to remember this birthday as the day when he found one of your hunters with a ripped out heart?" she confronted him with the hard reality without giving away too much.

"No,... no of course not. Probably you are right, my dear. I just wonder what else you two talked about during the ride. I doubt that Mike has a use for a diary."

"Let this be my concern."

They headed to the Summers next. Mrs. Summers was as friendly as ever and happy to finally get to know Clara. She invited her and his mother to a cup of tea while Wade wanted to ask his Brothers if it fits them to meet earlier.

*** EST ***

WADE

Clara was in good hands. Wade climbed up the stairs with light steps and was in the best mood. He heard Bastian and Mike quarreling in Mike's room. Wade sighed. He wished Mike could finally find some joy in life again. He should step in before the quarrel got too heated. He knew Mike acted like a caged animal sometimes. He entered Mike's room without knocking. The last words he overheard. "... He doesn't have to know."

"What I'm not supposed to know? Are you planning a wedding surprise?"

Mike stared for a moment at him before he quickly turned away, swearing under his breath. Bastian looked caught.

Wade felt like he had done something wrong. He suddenly wished he hadn't entered. Mike asked, still not looking at him, "Wade? Why are you here this early?"

Wade was dumbstruck. "Uhm, … sorry if I interrupted something between you two. Do you want me to wait downstairs with your mother, Bastian?"

"No, Wade, come in. We have to talk," Bastian said, bringing a hand to his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" He demanded to know now.

Mike took a seat on the bedside hiding his face in one hand and stayed silent. What was it that made his friend feel so uncomfortable?

Bastian began, "Do you remember when you had the first dream about the man in the prison cell? You said he was bleeding from being brutally flogged."

"Yes, of course," Wade answered, still unsure about what this all was.

"Well, we can be sure now it was really Mike you saw."

Mike only stared to the ground while Bastian came over lifting his shirt to show Wade the scars on Mike's torso and didn't spare him to reveal the burn marks too.

Wade couldn't believe that his Brother had kept that from them this long. This explained a lot of occasions when Mike refused to take his shirt off. Like when they went swimming or trained. Finally everything made sense. The picture of the broken figure in the cell forced itself back to his mind. Wade felt an ache in his heart. God, his poor Brother. He had given up on him and felt guilty as if he had caused the scars himself. They should have started searching for him as soon as they heard he was dead.

Wade came closer and kneeled down in front of Mike, bringing his arms around him. "Forgive me, this is all my fault. I should have stood up for you, I should have searched for you. I'm so sorry."

He felt Mike finally reacting, pushing his face slightly deeper into the embrace. "It's not your fault, Wade. You could have done nothing."

Wade took Mike by his shoulders, looking at him. "Why didn't you tell us? It's nothing to be ashamed about. The people who did this to you should be ashamed."

"I don't know. I didn't want you to feel guilty and I was right. Look at you now. I didn't want to make you feel like this."

Bastian interrupted the two. "We should try again to trigger your ability. We must find out how it works. This only confirms that you have a gift."

Wade looked up at their Scholar. "No! Not before the wedding. I don't want to feel like shit again," Wade objected.

Bastian shook his head at the two. "You are both so stubborn you could be real brothers, do you know that?"

Mike and Wade grinned in unison.

Wade exclaimed, "Clara and Mother are downstairs waiting for me. She wanted to go shopping in town and I thought we could meet earlier, that is why I'm here. So how about you two come downstairs and we can discuss the theories about my ability after we send them home?"

Mike looked unsure,"Your mother is downstairs?"

"Yeah, c'mon Mike she never said a bad word about you at home. She won't bite." Since Mike hadn't been allowed to Wilmington Farm by his father, Mike had never visited the Wilmingtons again. Wade was not sure how his mother would react to seeing him, but it was worth a try. And maybe Mike wouldn't feel so rejected when at least Mrs. Wilmington spoke to him. "And Clara has a gift for you, Brother. I'm starting to believe it is the only reason she wanted to drive to town in the first place."

Mike raised a brow, "A gift? Why that?"

"She said something about you needing to get a better gift than a few drinks. She made me feel pretty bad that I haven't bought you anything material."

Mike chuckled now. "You don't have to gift me with anything. You know that, right?"

"Just get it over with and say thank you to my bride, understood?" Wade warned.

"Alright, alright. Just give me a minute alone, you two," Mike answered defeated.

CLARA

She saw Wade coming downstairs again followed by Bastian. "Where's Mike? I thought he was here too?"

"He's coming, he just needs a minute," Wade answered.

They talked a bit and sipped on their tea cups until Mike came down. Clara looked up. She hadn't seen him during the week but he still didn't look well.

"Hello," Mike said in the round. Then nodded at the ladies. "Clara, I hope you got settled in well ?"

Clara responded to it with a polite smile and a nod, "Yes, thank you, Mike."

Mike turned to Mrs. Wilmington, greeting her nervously. "Mrs. Wilmington."

Clara saw different expressions running over Priscillas face before she set on a smile. "Mike, it's good to see you. I hope you are well? We haven't seen each other for a long time. I'm sorry about your uncle."

Mike just answered, "I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Wilmington."

Clara felt the need to say something to distract the two from each other. "How about we go for a walk? The weather is wonderful today. After that we ladies will drive home and leave you to your meeting."

Priscilla tucked her arm in Wade's, ready to go. "That sounds wonderful. Let's get to the park."

Clara waited until the others were out and took Mike by the arm. "Mike, I have something for you." She pulled the nicely wrapped package from her bag. "No friend of mine comes away from a birthday without a present."

Mike took the present with a frown. "Thank you, Clara. You didn't have to spend money on me."

"Oh I didn't. I only waste Wade's money," she answered with a twinkle and a smug grin. Her joke caused an amused smile to Mike's lips and she was satisfied. "C'mon open it up!"

Mike unwrapped the package carefully as if the paper was something special. Clara was even more convinced that it had been a good idea to buy him a present. Mike inspected the content.

"You decided on blue on purpose?" He asked while flipping through the white pages.

"What do you think was the reason I asked for your favorite color? I hope you will use it. It is someone to trust with everything you have on your mind or soul, and the best thing, the diary won't tell. If you need someone with advice, you know we are always there for you."

"I promise. Thank you, Clara." Mike brushed over the blue linen cover. Then glanced up. "We should follow the others."

TBC