Date: Thu, 28 Jul 2005 12:20:41 -0400 (EDT)
From: Blue OConnor <ladylovey4@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Perfect 20 (Revised)

Perfect


~ Chapter 20 ~


Gabriel's POV

    I checked my watch, scowling.  It was getting late, almost time for
dinner.  I had spent the afternoon in the office.  Losing myself in the
work.  I hadn't realized how much I paperwork there was until I let it pile
up.  There were invoices to go over.  Supplies to order.  New job figures
to consider.  Pay stubs to write.  The list went on and on.

    I shut down the office for the day.  Wanting to get home to Connor.
Regretting staying away for so long.

    Blood roared through my vein's as I sped along Hwy 410, my fear
escalating with each passing mile, something was wrong.  Terribly wrong.

    By the time I brought the truck to a tire-skidding halt in front of the
house, I was nearly out of my mind with panic.  "Oh God."

    Part of the street was corded off by the police.  A row of cruisers
stretched along the curb, red and blue lights flashing in some macabre
special effect.  Two ambulances waited with their bay doors open.

    I didn't bother turning off the car.  I jumped out.  Racing to the
house.  'Please, let him be okay.'  I prayed.  'Please God let him be okay.
I'll do anything just let him be okay.'  I saw paramedics wheeling a
gurney.  Raw fear twisted my insides and sweat broke out on my body as I
ran toward the gurney, praying I would not see Connor lying there.

    A tall cop moved in, stepping in front of me, blocking my path.  When I
tried to go around him, the man grabbed a hold of my arms and twisted it
painfully behind my back.  I bucked and twisted, not caring if I snapped
the bone.

    "Goddamnit! Let go of me!"

    "Sir, I can't let you go in there.  This is a crime scene."

    "This is my house."  I yelled.  "I live here.  What happened? Where's
Connor?"  I was ready to fight my way in.  No one was keeping me from him.
No one.

    "Sir, please calm down."  The officer said.  "I need to see some ID
before I let you onto the premises."

    "Fuck your ID."  I shouted back.  "I want to see Connor."

    He was in danger.  I smelled it in the air.  Felt it crawling on my
skin.  I had to get to him.  Now.

    "Sir, if you don't calm down.  I'm going to have to arrest you."

    I opened my mouth to let him have it.  But Detective Haynes emerged
from the swarm of officers surrounding me.  His face was grim.

    "Let him go, Davis."  He ordered.

    He released me immediately, and I rushed forward.  "Connor..." I gasped
out his name, almost pleading for him to be all right.

    "He's got him."

    "Jesus, No."

    "We think it happened a few hours ago.  We're scouring the area for any
signs of them."

    I shook my head.  Unable to believe this was real.  "But you said he'd
be protected.  You said that nothing would happen to him."

    "There were no grantees.  We all knew he was in danger until his
stalker was caught."

    I lashed out.  Grabbing the Detective by the throat.  "How could this
happen? You were suppose the protect him.  What the fuck are you good for?
Why kind of police are you people?"

    I felt something cold and hard at the back of my head.  I stiffened.

    "Remove your hands from the detective."

    Detective Haynes flicked a glance at the officers, their guns pulled.
Ready for me to make a move.  "Stand down."  He stated.

    "But Sir..."

    "Now." He growled.

    The pressure on my head eased.

    I thrust my face close to his.  "If he dies I'm holding you personally
responsible."

    "I already hold myself responsible.  For his life.  And for the lives
of the two officers who's already lost theirs."

    "What?" I asked, hoarsely.

    "We found them in the squad car.  Throats slashed.  They didn't even
have time to draw their guns."

    "Jesus," I whispered.  I raised a hand, as if doing so could hold back
the ugly truth, and then lowered it again.  "Oh Jesus."  If he'd done that
to two trained policemen.  What would he do to Connor?


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Connor's POV


    I awoke to darkness.  Unfathomable darkness and silence, and a fear
that slid its cold hands around my throat each time I awakened in this
suffocating abyss of nothingness.  Not for the first time, I reached out in
panic, certain that Gabriel would be there.  That I would touch his hand
and this would be all a horrifying dream I would wake from.  An unknown
force restricted my movements; yet my hand connected with the moist, heavy
air that smelled like rank creek sediment and the filmy vegetation that
flourished just beneath the water's surface.  And something else-something
nauseatingly sweet, like rotten meat.

    Where the hell was I? How long had I been here?

    I rubbed my chin on my shoulder, the coarse hair chafing my skin-a good
indicator that I'd been here awhile.  Then, there was the gnawing hollow in
my belly.

    My shoulders, and ribs were burning.  My brain was fuzzy.

    Think.

    A monster. My monster was back.

    A noise.

    With a scrape of metal and a groan of wood, a hole opened above,
pouring light down a steep flight of stairs.  It reminded me of sunlight
pouring through a break in black storm clouds-a ray dancing with dust
particles.  Along with it came fresh, cool air that brushed over my hot
brow like a breath.

    I glanced around, noting that I was lying on a bare mattress on a wood
bed frame in a room with damp wood walls and an earth floor that looked
slick with mud.  There were deep footprints partially filled with brown
water leading toward me and back to the stairs.  A shot of pure terror
crawled through me as I realized I was naked.  My legs and arms were tied
to the bed frame.

    A figure approached, holding a flashlight out to light the way.  Heavy
feet thumping on the wood steps as he descended.

    I did my best to push myself into sitting position.  My eyes throbbed
from the assault of light on my pupils.  My empty stomach rebelled and I
gagged, heaving up nothing but bitter gas.

    He stopped at the foot of the stairs.

    "Good, you're awake."  He said, in a flat tone.  I couldn't see his
face.  He was just a shadow of black leather, and a malevolent voice that
was laced with evil.

    I've heard that voice before.  But where, I couldn't quite place it.

    "You FUCKING BASTARD."  I bellowed, bucking against my bounds.  "Why
are you doing this to me?"

    He laughed darkly.  "You have to pay for your sins."

    "What sins? I haven't done anything to you.  I don't even know who you
are."

    That propelled him into action.  One second I felt his eyes on me, the
next he was there in front of me.  For the first time I got a good look at
him.

    "You!"  I gasped out, shocked, recognizing him instantly.

    "I have to hand it to you, you deceptive whore," he rasped.  "You
pulled me in.  I haven't had this much fun playing for a long time."  A
knife appeared in his hand and he ran it down my throat, up my jaw, the
point grating against my skin dangerously.  "But all good things must come
to an end."

    My throat closed up with fear.  I didn't dare move.  Breathe.  Or
think.  My focus was on him.  The knife.

    "So beautiful."  He breathed, the soft caress in his voice making my
skin crawl.

    He stepped back.  Walking towards the back of the room.  A clang
vibrated across the room, then the cool flow of water.

    I couldn't believe it was him.  Why would he want to hurt me?  Nothing
was making sense.  I've only spoken to him a handful of times.  I searched
my brain for something.  Anything that would make sense, but nothing.  He
was a doorman.  I was polite to him, but I never did anything that would
encourage or cause this madness.

    Shuffling sounds indicated that he was returning.

    I fought the panic that threatened to overwhelm me.  I couldn't give in
to it, I had to think, I had to concentrate.  If I panicked I was helpless.

    He came to stand beside me.  A bucket in his hand.

    "I've met you before haven't I?  You're the doorman at my building?"  I
asked, trying to stall for time.

    He smiled his shark grin, his teeth glistening in the darkness.
"That's how we first met."

    "What's your name?"  I asked cautiously.

    "You never did ask, did you?"  He said, almost curiously.  "It's
Vincent Chambers."

    'How could a monster have such an ordinary name,' I asked myself
hysterically.

    He looked different, his head was completely shaven, an odd contrast to
the dirty blond messy hair I was used to him sporting.  He seemed older.
Before I would have placed him in his early twenty's.  Now he looked more
like some one in their late twenty's or early thirty's.  The hazel eyes
were missing also.  I had noticed the color one day, when I had said hello
to him, and was struck by the intensity of the distinct greens and browns
within its depths.  In there place, were black eyes.  So dark they looked
unreal.

    "People are so very easy to fool," he said, as if reading my thoughts.
"Put on a wig, contacts, and they never suspect a thing."

    He spoke casually as if we were sitting at the kitchen table, talking
over coffee.

    "You'll never get away with this."

    "Oh, but I already have."  He announced his voice tinted with mockery.
"I've provided the police with valuable information.  Why would they start
to suspect me?"

    The truth in his statement made me nauseous.

    "But why? At least tell me that.  What have I done?"

    He dipped his hand in the bucket; pulled out a sponge, then
aggressively squeeze the water out of it.

    "Your act isn't working.  I'm not buying it."  He said, bending over
and running the sponge across my right shoulder and I cringed.  "You know
what your sins are."

    "No I don't, tell me, please.  Maybe I could fix it somehow."  I said,
applauding myself for not losing control as he calmly began to wash my
chest.

    "You toyed with me.  Made me want you.  But it was a game wasn't it?  I
thought you were different but you just like the rest.  You're just like
her.  A whore, who can't keep their legs closed."  He said, his movements
becoming angrier.  Rubbing so hard, my skin felt as if it were being
stripped off.  "You let him touch you didn't you?  Let him sully your
pristine body?  Didn't you?"  He screeched.

    "Wh-oo?" I stammered.  But I knew whom he was talking about.  Gabriel.

    His attack came out of nowhere.  Viciously he struck down.  The blade
slashing the side of my face, so swiftly, I wouldn't have known anything
occurred, if not for the gushing flow of blood that slid down my face.
"Shut your mouth.  You're a liar.  You know who he is.  I saw you with him.
Like a wanton slut, you went to him.  Even though you knew I wanted you.
That I would do anything for you."

    My body was stiff as a board.  Oh God.  Oh God.  Oh God.  He was out of
his fucking mind.

    Jerkily he continued his task.  Cleaning the blood that had spilled.
"You have to be clean.  I have to scrub your body of sin before I send you
for the ultimate judgment.  Your soul will still be tainted.  But your body
will be clean."

    He dipped his hand in water again, and pulled it back out to watch my
arms.  He repeated the process of dipping, and washing for several minutes.
The silence in the room was harsh.

    Revulsion raked my body.  I had to stop him.  I couldn't bear it if he
kept touching me.  I would rather he killed me than touch me.

    There was an expression on his face, in his eyes that made me
shudder. Desire.  He was excited.  He was enjoying this.  He looked at my
naked body and reached out, his hand sliding it over my soft penis.

    I gagged, and my control broke.  "Don't touch me!"  I screamed.

    This time I saw it coming before he moved.  I had baited him.  Wanting
to end this before it went too far.  I wouldn't let him rape me.  I knew it
was his plan.  I wouldn't die like that.  His hand was on my throat,
pressing hard, and he bent over so his face was close to mine.  He was
livid with rage.  "Do not ever speak to me like that again," He ground out.

    He was cutting off my air.  I gagged again, choking frantically trying
to think what to do.

    His face was molten red as he released my throat.  Desperately I sucked
in breaths of air.

    "You won't get out of your punishment so easily."  He hissed, dragging
his belt out of its loops.  "YOU ARE NOT in charge HERE! I AM!
YOU.DO.NOT.CONTROL. Me! You will learn discipline."

    I choked back a scream and tried to shrink away as he raised the belt
over his head, the room filling with the sound of leather as it hissed
through the air.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Gabriel's POV


    There was no sign of him.  Two days of searching.  And nothing.  Just
weak leads and dead-ends.

    They thought he was dead.  I knew they did.  I felt it with every
pitying look Hunter and the other officers gave me, with every consoling
smile.

    They were giving up.

    But I knew the truth in the core of my being.  Connor wasn't dead.  He
wasn't.  I would feel it.  Like the loss of my heart or of a limb.  I would
feel the sudden evocable demise of his presence in the universe.  My soul
would have cried out in deep devastation.

    No Connor wasn't dead.  I just had to find him.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Connor's POV


    He'd wielded the belt with savage fury, raising bloody, stinging welts
all along my chest and legs.  Cris-crosses had begun to form where he'd cut
deeply, with repeated strikes in the same area on my chest.  Right over my
heart.

    I don't know what made him stop but in mid-motion he did.  He halted,
and looked at me with a doll like glee that made me realize the word
monster was nothing close to a fitting name for him.

    I choked, sobbing, as the he climbed the stairs.

    Blind with anguish I began to work the bed leg back and forth.  Not
easy.  The slimy ooze under me made leverage next to impossible.  Every few
minutes I was forced to stop and lean against the headboard as I caught my
breath and willed back the pain in my body.

    Above me music began to play, a sad jazz song.  I could hear him
humming in the background.

    The wood was old and soft around the nail heads.  With each yank of the
leg, the rusty nail squeaked like a dry hinge; each time, I froze, certain
the creature upstairs would hear and come clamoring down.

    With one last heave backward, the leg popped free.  My back slammed
against the headboard, my mouth flew open as pain tore through me, I fought
to contain the agony that choked off my breath and made every pore bead
with sweat.

    The impact of my body must have knocked some of the worn wood in the
headboard free also, because it began to sag behind me.  I slammed my
shoulder against it.  Closing my mind against the pain.  I let out a quiet
half-sob and moan of relief when I was able to lift the joint enough to
pull my hand free.

    It took all the energy I had to untie myself.  When I was finished.  My
eyes drifted closed.  The hazy gray clouds of dreams made me drift away but
I fought against it.

    Footsteps above-heavy and lumbering-forced me back to reality.

    After several attempts, I managed to sit up, to crawl to my knees.  I
scrambled through the wrecked basement.  Hoping to find something.
Anything that I could use as a weapon.

    A pile of garbage on the side of the room caught my attention.  But as
I sifted through it, nothing...There was nothing...but old
shoes...and...wait...my hand connected with cold steel.  I held it close to
my face.  Trying to make out what it was in the darkness.  I molded the
shape in my hand.  A diamond tip screwdriver.

    The footsteps came closer to the door above me and I scrambled back
across the room.  Making my best attempt to lie on bed as I was before.

    The door opened slowly.

    He descended, silently.  His body covered in leather.  His face hidden
behind a mask.

    He said softly. "It's time."

    Everything in me screamed to run.  To get away.  But I had to bide my
time.  Had to wait for the perfect moment.

    "You can beg if you like.  The others begged too.  Just like her.  But
they never escaped reaping the consequences of their sins."

    This man wanted to see me cower, needed to see my fear.  It was
reflected in his eyes.  It exited him.  Giving into my fear would only
build his strength.

    I forced myself to look directly into those empty eyes.  "Your
pathetic.  Do you know that?  Is this the only way you know how to be a
man?  By terrorizing people?"

    His body tensed.  "I'm more of a man than you could ever handle.  More
of a man than your disgusting lover.  After I'm through with you.  I'm
going have to punish him too.  He won't break away from his sin either."

    I wanted to kill him.  Wanted him erased from my life.  Just wanted him
dead.  I was blind to nothing but that wanting.  Rage swamped me.  How dare
he?  How dare he threaten Gabriel?

    "You're not a man," I taunted.  "You're a worm.  A coward.  I bet you
can't get it up for regular people can you?"  I pointed to his crotch.
"You're not normal, you're a freak."  Okay^Å. Blue, wasn't he tied up?
Bound?  How does he point without the guy knowing he is no longer tied up?
I'm a little confused^Å^Å.
    "Whore! Shut up!" he growled, his knuckles growing white as he gripped
the knife.  "You let any dick inside you.  Why would I want you?"

    "It's not me.  It's you.  You're not normal.  You're a freak.  An
animal.  Don't blame me because you a half-man."  I clutched the
screwdriver like a talisman.  A symbol of hope.

    "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!"  His face mottled with rage, spittle coming
out of his mouth as his control snapped.  He lunged at me, wildly swinging
the knife, the blade hissing through the air.

    Heart pounding, I extracted the screwdriver from behind my back.  I
drew back and slashed.  I put every ounce of strength I had behind my arm.
A scream tore from my throat as the screwdriver sank into his throat.

    His hands flailed.  I slashed again. He shrieked as I plugged it into
his eye.

    "Motherfucker!"

    I drew back and attacked again.  He grabbed at me, slicing my upper arm
but too late to stop my strike.  I stabbed him in the chest brutally.  He
instinctively let go of me to grab his wound and I pushed him away, pulling
my weapon free.

    Knowing I had but a second to flee, I sprinted toward the staircase.  I
made it half way when he grabbed me from behind, his hand latching onto my
leg.  I went down hard.  My chin knocking against the steps.  My teeth
rattled.  I couldn't give up, wouldn't give up when I was so close.

    I kicked out almost blindly.  My legs slamming his fingers against the
wood.  Splintering it.  He shrieked in pain.  He let go of my leg and I
kick again, this time connecting with his head.  He snapped back and began
to slam down the stairs.

    I heard a snap, a sharp cracking sound.  I looked down to see him lying
at the bottom of the stairs.  His neck was twisted at an impossible angle.

    I scrambled up the stairs, not losing any momentum.  I had to get out.
Had to leave.

    In a panic I search through the house.  Trying to find a phone.
Anything to get Gabriel there to me.  It was in plain sight, in the
kitchen.

    I grabbed for it.  Running out the door, I searched around the area but
I was in the middle of nowhere.  Knowing I couldn't go too far before a
cordless phone chipped out.  I hid behind a tree, just on the outside of
house.

    With shaking hands I tried to dial the number but I couldn't remember
it.  "Damn, Damn."  I cursed.

    I tried again.  This time it did ring.  "Hello."

    "Ga-bri-el."  I whispered on the phone.

    There was silence of a second, and then cracked voice said.  "Connor?"

    I nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see me.  "Yes."

    "Connor, baby, where are you?  Are you okay?"

    "Mmmm, Gabriel.  I hurt."

    "OH God, honey."

    I sat down on crisp grass, pulling my knees to my chest, and resting my
tired head against them.  "I want you here, Gabriel.  I want you here now."

    "Baby, you have to tell where you are first."

    "I don't know."  I mumbled, closing my eyes.  "I don't know."

    "The man who took you, where is he Connor?"

    I shiver with the memory.  "He..s at the bottom of the stairs.
H..iii..sss His head," I choked back a sob.  Then I couldn't hear his voice
anymore.  I needed to hear his voice, I thought hysterically.  "Gabriel?"
I cried.

    "I'm right here Connor.  I coming for you okay.  I'll be there soon."
He soothed.  "Can you tell me what it looks like around you?  Anything at
all?"

    I glanced around.  "There's only a cabin.  I don't see anything else
but trees."

    I closed my eyes again and began to drift, listening to Gabriel talk to
me.

    "Connor!" He shouted snapping me back into reality.  "Connor, can you
hear me.  Answer me Dammit!"

    "Mmm, I'm here."

    "Don't go to sleep, do you hear me honey, don't go to sleep.  Can you
do that for me?  Please.  Keep your eyes open."

    "I hurt, Gabriel."

    "I know, honey, but I'm coming.  Just hold on for a little while.  I'm
coming."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Gabriel's POV


    I had never been so close to fainting any other time, than when I first
heard Connor's voice on the line.  But of course I couldn't give into
relief.  I had to stay alert.  Connor needed me.

     I continued to whisper to him as we made our way to a cabin just
outside St. Catherine's.  It had taken ten agonizing minutes to locate him
through the police-tracking device.

    He'd stopped talking five minutes ago, which was driving me insane with
worry but he continued to make grunting noises when I called his name or
murmured non-commentarial.  I whispered my love to him.  Talking to him of
our future.  Of our life together.  Anything that would give him the
strength to stay awake.

    When we arrived police officers swarmed the cabin, but my sole focus
was Connor.

    "Baby, I'm here, can you hear me?  Where are you?"

    "Here."  His raspy, weak voice called out.

    I ran in the direction of his voice.  The sight of him made my
heartbeat flutter.  He was curled into himself.  Blood streaked his naked
body.  Oh God.  Tears leaked down my cheeks.  What had he done to him?

    I approached him cautiously.  Bending down to his level.  "Connor baby,
I'm here now.  Can you hear me?  I've got you now.  You're safe, Connor."

    I was afraid to touch him, not sure of severity of his injures.

    He raised his head, and blinked several times.  "Gabriel."  He breathed
out.  "I knew you'd come for me."  As if he'd been staying conscious just
to say that, he passed out.  His body going slack.

    The paramedics were on him then.  I watched with horror in my heart as
they examined him.

    Seconds later, we were in the ambulance, on our way to the nearest
hospital.  Minutes went by, and it seemed like hours. "Is he going to be
okay?"

    One of the paramedics looked up, "There doesn't seem to be any fatal
injuries.  He's just in shock."  Uhmmm, if they were FATAL injuries
^Å.. he'd be DEAD.  So^Å maybe "life threatening" okay??
    That news should have made me breathe easier, but still I was on edge.

    I couldn't believe I'd found him.  Now with my hand clutching his
tightly, I swore I'd never leave him.  But he was so cold.  So cold it
frightened me.

    My eyes cataloged every cut, every bruise that marred his beautiful
skin.  I shuddered with revulsion when I thought of how he must have
received them.

    "Hold on, honey, your safe now."  I whispered to him.  "I'm here."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Gabriel's POV


    I pulled my dirty shirt over my head as I entered the house.  So many
changes had occurred in such a short period; has it really been three weeks
since that night?  I rubbed a hand down my haggard face.  Physically Connor
wasn't badly hurt.  There were some cuts on his arm that required stitches.
A plastic surgeon had repaired the damage on his face.  He assured me that
in a few months, there would be no sign of a scar.  The slashes on his
chest had been the worst.  The doctors had been afraid it would get
infected.  But he'd been released from the hospital within 48hrs.

    No Connor wasn't physically hurt.  But as the weeks passed I died a
little more each day as I watched as he drifted through life instead of
actually living, floating in a protective bubble that I could not penetrate
and that only grew more impregnable whenever I tried to break through.

    I kept believing he would pull out of the despair that engulfed him, as
well as a kind of apathy, as though he simply had no more interest in the
world and was merely waiting for everything to fall apart.

    Along with growing more dejected mentally, he seemed to decline
physically.  He had little, to no appetite, and though I was constantly
trying to feed him, he only picked at his food.

    Helplessly, I watched him, keeping a close eye, but feeling completely
useless.

    Keira was home again.  She as well as his father seemed to be the only
light in my and his life.  He spent countless hours just watching them.
Guarding them like an angel.  His father had regained consciousness last
week.  Though he was still weak, his prognosis was good.  We'd decided not
to talk to him about the attack, until he was stronger.

    He wouldn't let me touch him.  He slept in the guest room.  Every time
I came near, he'd flinch away.  It shattered my heart every time I saw fear
in the eyes, which had once shined with love for me.

    Whenever I tried to talk to him about going to see a doctor, he told me
he was fine and then gave me that wan smile that made me feel as if my
heart was permanently cracked.

    He'd done this to him.  Vincent Chambers.

    A search of his house had shown he'd been stalking Connor for months.
Photos, stolen boxers, flowers, and candles had been found in his closet,
ordered perfectly.  Like a twisted shine to Connor.

    The police had also found his journal, documenting his obsession with
both women and men over the years.  The physiological profiler I had talked
to said for Chambers his motivation hadn't been sex it was power.  He
wanted control over his victims.  Control that he lacked in some part of
his life, stemming from something to do with the woman's portrait that hung
over his bed, shredded.

    I learned everything I could about his attacker, hoping that one-day
Connor would want to know and I would have the answers.  But he never did

    What scared me the most was that he hadn't cried.  He hadn't shed a
single tear for the injustices done to him.  Deep down inside I knew there
was something else.  Guilt.  He felt guilt for taking a life.  For going to
level of the creature that'd attacked him.

    Keira was away at her ballet lessons at the community center, so I
didn't feel the need to keep up the happy facade.  I knew she sensed
something bad happened, but we tried our best to make her life as normal as
possible.

    The days after the incident, I had needed my lifeline, so I reached out
to Elaine.  She had always been my rock.  She never failed to ease my mind.
To guide me in the right direction.

    "Give him time, Gabriel."  She told me.  "Lend him your strength, he'll
come around when he's ready."

    I stood by the window, and watched as the sun went down over the water.
It was Friday.  Keira would be spending the weekend with Elaine and Derek.
She'd attached herself to Tommy the moment she saw him.  She talked about
him constantly.  Giggling and whispering her praise of him.  To her he was
like a God who could do no wrong.  I think she had her first crush.

    A smile curved on my lips, when I thought of how she'd announced to a
frazzled Tommy, that she was going to marry him.  He'd blushed until, his
ears has been beet red.

    A scream penetrated my reverie.  Dread shot through me as I raced in
the kitchen.

    He stood by the cutting board.  Sliced tomatoes lined the counter.
Blood was dripping on his hand.

    I went to him instantly, grabbing a dishcloth, and pressing it to his
wound.  "Baby, are you okay?"


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Connor's POV


    Blood dripped down my hands.  Visions assailed.  I saw his face.  His
blood.  It was on my hand.  He was dead, and his blood was on my hand.  It
was the final straw.  "Get it off me!"  I cried, rubbing it down on my
shirt.  I felt the wet substance on my skin, I yanked at my shirt, sobbing.
"Please...I can't..." The soft cotton fabric simply stretched beneath my
panicked hands, and I lost whatever calm distance I'd had.  I was there, in
the past, covered with a dead man's blood, and if I didn't get it off I was
going to explode.

    "Calm down," he said, reaching for the hem of my shirt and yanking it
over my head exposing my chest, the streaks of blood on my pale skin.

    He swore.  I was past the point of speech, yanking at my clothes as I
gasped for breath, and he simply picked me up, carried me through the
kitchen, up the stairs, into the bathroom.  It was instantly flooded with
bright light, illuminating my skin.  He put me into the shower,
half-dressed, and turned it on full force, getting in with me as the hot
water blasted down on both of us.

    He stripped off the rest of my clothes, quickly, efficiently, taking
the soap and washing me, as I stood there frozen, shivering beneath the
steamy downpour.  His hands were fast, rough covering my body.

    He pulled off his own clothes, keeping a steady arm around me as he did
so.

    I grabbed the soap from him and scrubbed my body, desperate to wash any
trace of blood away, desperate for it all to be washed away...

    "Enough," he said, taking my hand, making me drop the soap onto the
tiled floor of the shower, pulling me against him under the full force of
the shower, his body pressed to mine, wet and naked, the both of us.

    I needed it to go away, all of it.  The water wasn't enough, the soap
couldn't banish it.  I needed more, and his erection against my belly was
proof that he did, too.  I needed him.  Needed the oblivion.

    I reached down and touched him, and he jerked in my hand, big and
heavy, engorged with the same need that swamped me.

    I looked up at him through the heavy downpour of the shower.  "Please,"
I whipered, letting my fingers slip down the solid ridge of his cock.  "I
need..."

    "I know," he said.

    He didn't turn off the shower.  He simply picked me up, and carried
into the darkened bedroom, laying me down on the bed, following me,
covering me, pushing inside me before I could even catch my breath.

    It stung, but I didn't care.  I didn't want to breathe.  To think.  I
just wanted this, hard and fast and deep, and I came almost immediately,
hard, my entire body clenching with the force of it.

    It didn't take him long either.  I was still shivering around him when
I felt his cock thicken and jerk inside me, and his climax began.  Hot, wet
life filling me, driving away death and darkness.

    I must have made some sort of noise, because he covered my mouth with
his hand, silencing me.  I welcomed it, letting go of the very last of my
strength, sobbing against the hard flesh of his fingers, until there was
nothing left of me, nothing at all.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Connor's POV


    I didn't need to open my eyes when I woke up to know he was awake.  I
felt him watching me.

    "Do you want to talk about it?"  He asked, knowing I was awake.

    "I thought he'd tainted everything I touched, Gabriel.  I couldn't make
love to you.  I was afraid it wouldn't be the same.  That I would see his
face."

    "And now?"

    I opened my eyes, and turned my head so I could look at his face.  "I
know he doesn't have that power."  I smiled at him and whispered.  "Hey."

    Tears shined in his eyes.  "Hey, baby."

    "I missed you."

    He touched my cheek.  "I missed you more."  He said.  "I've been
worried you wouldn't come back to me."

    I rubbed my face against his hand.  "I think I'm going to need help
Gabriel."  I confessed.  "I've never felt that kind of anger before, that
kind of thirst for blood.  I wanted him dead.  I did everything in my power
to hurt him.  I almost turned into him."

    He smiled gently at me.  "No, honey, your were protecting yourself.
You're not to blame for his actions.  You have nothing to feel guilty
about, do you hear me?"

    "I know that here."  I said tapping to my head.  "But in my heart, I
can still see his face.  His blood is on my hands."

    He clutched me to him, pulling him on top of me, wrapping his arms
around me.  "He was a monster, he deserved to die.  I wish I could have
done it.  Wish I could have protected you."

    He ran his hand down my back.  "I can take care of myself."

    I smiled as he threw his words back at me.

    He kissed my eyelids.  "I love you."

    "I love you, too."


To be continued......