Chapter 8 - The Bottle Is Not Your Friend

*** EST OT ***

Later that day

WADE

"Robert, where is he?" Wade demanded, concerned and out of breath. He had raced over a moment after reading the message from his Scolar, and barged into the Summers' newspaper office without a greeting.

Robert looked up from the letter setting. "Wade. Bastian will be glad you're here. He's in Mike's room with him."

"How is he?"

Robert met him with a serious face. "I've never seen him as bad as when Bastian brought him home this morning. Bastian tried to calm us and stitched him up. He said he will be fine but I know my son; he is really concerned about Mike."

Wade looked even more shocked. There must be something else they could do. He had to ask George. But first he needed to see his brother. The message Bastian had sent him was the code for a werewolf attack and for Mike being injured. This could mean a lot of serious things concerning Mike now. At least he hadn't been bitten, otherwise Bastian would have used a different code.

The Guardian rubbed his still itching and swollen hands. The hard ride hadn't made them any better. But he would take 100 bee stings more if it would heal his brother. "I'm going upstairs."

Robert nodded and returned to his letters.

Wade hurried upstairs and opened the door slowly. He was shocked when he saw Mike's pale and sweaty face. Robert was right, Mike looked closer to death than to life. He wouldn't let him die, he needed his brother. "Bastian, how is he?"

Their Scholar looked up from the bedside where he had been immersed in prayer. "Good, you're here. He is in and out but not really awake. He has a fever, it isn't really high but present. I don't know what's causing it. The wound is not infected and he didn't get bitten. I checked that." Bastian reported to the Guardian about the actual state of their Knight.

Wade nodded and took the other free seat next to Mike's bed, taking his hand. "Mike, I'm here, brother. Please, wake up." Wade waited patiently for a reaction but no more than a weak grunt came from Mike's lips.

Wade turned to Bastian. "Where is George? Why haven't you brought him here?"

"Right, George. There is something I wanted to talk to you about." Bastian began, uneasy. "Mike was on a drinking tour with George last night. I'm concerned about them both, but more about Mike. You know they both like drinking. But what Mike is doing is far from a bar crawl in the evenings. Did you notice that he always has his flask of whiskey with him? He is drowning his problems. Like his time in Quebec - and I'm sure there is a lot he wants to forget about that - as well as losing Diana. He is on a dangerous path."

"You're overreacting, Bastian. He had two very hard years, of course he is trying to work that out in his own way. He will get better. He already was. The wedding just ripped open old wounds but they will heal again. My father made peace with him. That's a start, isn't it?"

Bastian sighed. "It probably is but I doubt that it is enough. We have to help him. You have seen yourself what happens when he is out there alone. If we don't stop this he will soon be dead. This is not only a passage of depression, I think he has a serious drinking problem. Even if he is not killed on a hunt because he's been drinking, do you wanna find him drunk dead like his uncle? Because I found Brandon Campbell and it was nothing I ever want to see again. I don't wanna lose Mike; and certainly not by his own hands."

Wade ran a hand over his mustache, "And neither do I. I'll talk to him. But first he has to get better, and conscious. You still haven't really answered my question. Where is George?"

Bastian stared at the ground. "Our dear Advisor is nearly on the same path to be a drunkard as our Knight. He didn't open the door for the boy I sent to him. I left him a message."

CLARA

Wade had left the house without much of an explanation. He'd just said he had to ride to Hartford immediately and that it was about Mike.

Now it was late afternoon and she hadn't heard anything. Entering Wade's office, she spotted the message on his desk.

She took the paper up and read the hastily noted words. She read it twice to be sure she had seen right.


20 20 A on 2nd - 0 B - 1 I

In base now. Come quickly.

3rd


Folding the paper, she headed to the stables like Wade had before her. If Wade was still in Hartford Mike's state must be serious. She wanted to offer her help too. Mike had been through enough.

She made it to Hartford in under 15 minutes. Leaving her horse in the yard, she knocked on the backdoor until Eva opened.

"Clara, my dear. I hope there is nothing wrong at home."

Clara gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Eva. I read the message Bastian sent to Wade this morning. Are they still here?"

"Yes! Come in. They're in Mike's room. Maybe you have an idea of how to help."

Clara entered and headed straight upstairs where she knew Mike and Bastian had their rooms. In the upper level she heard soft voices from one room. She opened the door silently, peeking inside.

Wade and Bastian looked up and stopped talking.

"Clara!" Wade said surprised. "What are you doing here?"

She got uncomfortable under both their questioning stares. "I ... uhm, I read the message Bastian sent. How bad is Mike injured?"

Wade and Bastian exchanged looks. Bastian answered, "He is still out of it. It was a …."

"... Werewolf attack. I know," Clara ended Bastian's explanation.

"Yes. The cuts aren't life threatening deep but he developed a slight fever. I wish he would wake up. How do you know it was a werewolf? I didn't tell you," Wade asked.

"The code. Do you really believe I don't know how to read it? Who do you think wrote most of the messages written in this code for my father?" She raised an eyebrow at the two and started explaining. "20 20 stands for W W this means Werewolf; A for attack; 2nd refers to the Knight - so this means Mike got attacked by a Werewolf.

0 B means not bitten. 1 I means injured. And what the base is is really obvious since you were not at the farm. Mr. 3rd." She shot Bastian a triumphant wink and saw them both staring dumbstruck at her.

Wade recovered first, putting a smile on his face. "Well, we should consider you as our assistent, my love."

She smiled back. "Yes, consider that. But now I will sit with Mike and you two can take a break from bedside vigil."

After they both left the room, Clara first opened the windows for fresh air. Sickness and sweat nearly dropped from the walls of the tiny room.

Then she took a seat next to Mike. She changed the wet cloth resting on his forehead and saw him sighing, relieved. At least he responded. Caringly, she pushed a strand of hair from his forehead. He stirred in sleep and mumbled Diana's name.

She bent closer, taking his hand. "Mike, can you hear me? We need you to wake up."

MIKE

His body felt so incredibly heavy. He didn't want to move. The delicate scent of roses touched his senses. Mike wanted to open his eyes and see Diana. "Diana," he tried. It came out weakly, barely a whisper.

A clear feminine voice answered, "Mike, can you hear me? We need you to wake up."

He knew the speaker. It was Clara. Her soft but demanding tone was unmistakable. She had a kind of authority which he only knew from Wade and Rutherford. He had to obey.

His eyes fluttered open, a crack. It took him a moment and he blinked a few times until her shape became clear. "Clara?"

"Hey big guy. You know the new number one rule, don't you? Alone against a werewolf. You could be dead or even worse - infected."

Mike smiled weakly over her joke. "What did I miss? Why're you in my room, Clara? 's everyone a'right?" He felt his heart beating faster with his own question. The pictures of last night flashed back to life. The smithy, the werewolf, he had killed it, and then … he didn't remember more. How had he made it home? And why was Clara here? He hated sleeping on his back; he always had the feeling he couldn't breathe properly. Moving a bit to roll onto his side, he was stopped immediately by a mean sting running through half his body. "Argh … he remembered now. The werewolf had dug its claws into his side while he had pushed the blade through its heart.

Clara brought a hand to his shoulder, pushing him back. "Easy, Mike. Bastian found you more dead than alive as far as I know. He sent for Wade and you know me; I followed when Wade didn't come home in the afternoon. So here I am! I told you we're here for you."

She took his hand, squeezing it thoughtfully. "I'll let the others know that you woke up. They were pretty concerned."

Mike nodded and relaxed somewhat, watching Clara leave. He spotted his bloody, ripped jacket on the clothes rack and thought about a swig of whiskey from his flask. Scolding himself, he couldn't believe that one of the first things which brushed his mind was a drink. He wasn't a drunkard like his uncle had been. He could make it through a day without a drop of whiskey. He would prove it to himself.

*** EST OT ***

MIKE

Two weeks later - October 1815

They wanted to meet in the garden of the farm today. Mike had made sure he was on time. For an October day it was warm. He waited in the pavilion where he had spotted a set table that made him curious.

Wade would tell him what the reason was for this. Letting his gaze wander over the farmland, he waited patiently. Only an attentive observer could still make out the damage the storm had caused. He was glad Diana was okay. Wade hadn't told much about his journey to the Tanners, only that they were fine, though the storm had caused severe damage to their house too.

He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the flask, opening it absentmindedly, taking a sip. Only when he closed the lid again, did he become aware that he had grabbed it. But he had proved it, right? He had stopped drinking for two days until George poured whiskey into his herbal tea while telling him it was the secret ingredient to make a tea drinkable with a wink. And to be honest, that was not even drinking but more medicine.

"Mike, you're just in time. Didn't you bring Bastian with you?" Wade came with Clara from the house, both with excited light steps.

"He's running errands for Eva. We decided to meet here. He will arrive soon, or not. I think he has a thing for Hannah," Mike answered with a smirk, stowing the flask away in its place. "You two are so unusually happy today, did I miss something?"

Clara took the word, "We'll wait for Bastian. Too sad George is with his mother."

Bastian arrived ten minutes later. He knew his friend well. He had seen Hannah for sure. The pleased look spoke volumes. Mike wanted to throw up about all these happy couples and joy around him. He fought the urge to grab for his flask again.

Bastian hurried to the gathering in the pavilion, "Sorry for being late. Did I miss anything?"

Mike and Bastian both looked at Wade and Clara. Wade took his wife's hand and there it was again, this beaming smile. Mike had an idea what they wanted to tell them. The set table in the pavilion told a story itself.

"Well, brothers. We have to celebrate something." Wade turned and filled the glasses with Henry's finest brand. Their Guardian handed everyone a glass before he pulled Clara closer. "Though it is a bit early to announce it officially, you are family, and I wanted you to know. Next spring you can consider yourselves uncles," Wade said, and Clara's smile grew even bigger.

Mike's guess had been right. He forced a smile. It was wonderful news, of course, but it stung to watch all the joy around him while he felt so lonely and ripped apart.

Bastian pulled Clara into a tight hug. "Congratulations, you two." He did the same with Wade and separated from him with a pat on the shoulder.

Mike felt so strange at that moment. He had to say something too. His mood was unfitting as hell for his brother telling him he would be a father soon. "Well done you two," he said, giving Clara and Wade a short hug too. Before they raised their glasses to have a drink on the new life growing in Clara's body.

*** EST OT ***

MIKE

End of October 1815

Being alone felt terrible. If not for staying at the Summers', Mike would probably have lost his mind. Eva cared for his well being as much as it was in her power. She took care that he ate, that he slept, that he had clean clothes to wear, and she did not even once complain about him coming home drunk or even at the late times in the night he came in.

Bastian was another story. His friend saw exactly what happened to him but he didn't confront him with any of that. He was what a Scholar was, he watched, he studied, until he knew all the dirty details, and then he would start to act. Nothing in Bastian was ever impulsive.

Mike had a plan too. No longer willing to accept that he had to stay without his Diana, he went to Clara the next week, asking her if she needed any help with the house, like carrying boxes or preparing a children's room.

Though Clara could have easily told Samantha to clear out Diana's old room she gladly took the offer - maybe she even knew what Mike's intentions were.

Now he stood here in her room. It was not like in his memory of their night together though. He began peeking into the boxes. Most of them had a description on it. Between Prescillas embroidery and Christmas decoration he finally found three boxes with Diana's name tag.

He hesitated for a moment before opening them. The first one held books and Diana's doll Lizzy. He remembered the thing from many years ago when he met her for the first time. A smile rushed over his face as his thoughts traveled back in time.

Wade had invited him and the others to his home for his birthday party. If Mike recalled right it had been his 13th birthday. Mike had never been to a feast like that before. Everything spoke of how wealthy the family was. From the fine table cloth even in the garden over the silver plates, and the food. The food was the best he had ever tasted so far and after that the boys had played with Wade's new Cricket set. Of course 9-year-old Diana wanted to play with them, her doll Lizzy in hand. Wade ended up allowing Diana to play. The game ended with her falling and ruining her fine dress, as well as ripping half of one of Lizzy's arms off. She had cried bitterly and Mike was sorry for her. He had walked over and helped her up, telling her not to cry, that the doll could be fixed for sure.

Back in reality, Mike heard Clara's light steps coming closer from the hallway. He closed the box again just in time before Clara entered.

"I'm really grateful for your help, Mike. Wade has no idea how much there is to consider and to prepare before the child is born. On top of that there is this new hunt he got informed of yesterday. But he will brief you in the evening. He asked me to tell you to stay until then. I hope you don't mind."

Mike gave her a smile. "Of course not. Wilmington meals are well known in my memory."

She squeezed his shoulder. "I have already sorted out a few things here. This box holds all of Wade's and Diana's children's books. I want them on the shelf over there. The other things should be brought to the other guestroom. There is an empty wardrobe, maybe we could stow most of it there."

She left him to work again, joyfully humming a melody.

Mike turned to the box full of books and started putting them into the shelf. After the first one - his alibi box - he returned to Diana's second one. It was what he was after. The wonderful scent of her was in all the clothes. He decided on a light blue dress. It was simple and classic with only a bit of rose vine embroidery in the same color. He folded it carefully, hiding it in his jacket that he had left on the wing chair.

Pulling the flask out of his vest inside pocket he toasted to himself. "Mission complete, Campbell." He took a long swig and put the flask back in its place, returning to his work.

*** EST OT ***

MIKE

After the meeting, back in Hartford

"Put this on. You'll be Diana as long as I'm with you." Mike handed the blue dress to the girl of the Cedar Wood, an establishment for the middle class. If you paid the extra price you could ask for things like that. She had some similarity with her; if he was drunk enough the illusion would be nearly perfect.

Mike sat on the bed and watched her turn to the folding screen to change. Fetching the wine bottle from the night stand, he poured himself another glass. His mind slowly started to feel foggy - even better.

She stepped out from behind the folding screen, coming closer. "What do you want me to do next?"

Mike swallowed hard. "Diana," he tried speaking her name out loud, faking himself. It felt nearly right. He reached for her hand, pulling her closer. "Tell me that you missed me and hold me for a while."

She brought her arms around him. "I missed you, Mike."

He snuggled in the embrace and he needed only one intake of Diana's scent to believe this lie.

*** EST OT ***

GEORGE

The next day - 10:30 - Hartford at the Summers'

He saw Wade getting pissed. They waited for Mike now for over half an hour. Wade had made it clear to meet here at 10 o'clock to start their trip to Trenton. The case they had discussed yesterday needed their immediate presence.

Bastian had told him Mike went out last night but didn't return. Mike was not injured, or they would have been alarmed through the Triad link. This Triad magic was fascinating. George had to study it further. The descriptions by the former Scholar and Advisor were quite interesting.

"Damn it! What if he is in trouble again?" Wade said, pacing the room. He turned and addressed George, "Why did he go out alone anyway? Usually you two are glued together during your bar crawls."

George gave him a raise of his eyebrows. "Calm down, Wade, he is an adult. He doesn't need my help to do what he probably did last night."

Wade stared at him. "You know where he is?"

"Well, not exactly. He just asked me for a few addresses which made pretty clear what he had in mind. And since I know him pretty well and the Old Barrel is not the place for him to show up at the moment, I think I know where he went."

Wade gave him a waiting glare, demanding from George to tell him where that might be.

Rolling his eyes, George gave him what he wanted. "He probably visited the Cedar Wood."

"A brothel?" Wade wondered.

"It is not exactly a brothel. It is an establishment," George said with a slight shake of his head.

"I don't know what the difference should be except for the name."

"Well let's say they don't only sell their body. And the girls are much healthier than in some dirty dark saloon where you can fuck for cheap money," George said with a smirk, remembering a good trip to the certain one.

Bastian shot him a stare. "Would you mind not using that language as long as we are in my mother's kitchen?"

They turned at the sound of a horse in the backyard. It was Mike.

"Finally," Wade said, getting up to confront his friend about why he was so late.

MIKE

Wade stepped out of the house with a disappointed look directed at him. It was only at the sight of the saddled horses that the scales fell from his eyes and he recalled that they had an appointment today. He dropped his gaze, embarrassed to have forgotten his friends.

Swearing at himself, he got off his horse. "I'm sorry, Wade, I forgot the time yesterday."

"I think you forgot more than that." Wade reached inside and revealed Mike's packed duffle. "We saw you haven't packed yet, so we did that for you."

Mike felt very much disgraced under Wade's disappointed gaze. "I'm sorry, brother."

"Yeah, me too. You ready, or what?"

"I … uhm. Give me five minutes."

Wade only answered with an unhappy grunt while Mike headed inside and to his room, ignoring the others as best as he could.

Mike closed his door and checked if he needed something else. It irked him that the others had rummaged through his belongings. But he could hardly blame them. It was his own fault that he had forgotten about the trip. Glad that he did not have to explain why he had a woman's dress in his bag. He pulled it out and hid it in the deepest point of his clothes chest, covering it thoroughly with the packing paper he had found in Diana's room.

He didn't relish facing his brothers downstairs. Wade's disappointment was bad enough. He reached for the flask again and pulled a swig before he even registered what he did. He was on edge. But it was hard to endure a single day without the whiskey burning away his pain, leaving him with a dulled feeling that let him pretend life wasn't so hard on him. He reached for the basket under his bed to refill his flask for the journey.

When he couldn't find it, he bent down and checked his stock. He found it empty. Even the finished bottles he used to stow away there were gone. "Fucking shit!" he swore. Whoever had packed his things was probably going to confront him with that. Grumpily, he let himself fall backwards onto the mattress, closing his eyes for a second.

Mike thought back to the night in the Cedar Wood. He had really made himself believe he had Diana with him. Well, until the girl made it clear that she was well acquainted with a man's needs. At this point he was far too aroused to stop now. He had felt good for a while. Good enough to fall into a deep dreamless sleep there. He wished he had remembered earlier about their trip, because Betty had probably taken pity on him sleeping peacefully, and didn't kick him out later in the night.

Mike sighed and got up. It was useless to think about that now. The others had waited for him too long already. He would make it up to them later.

TBC