Subject: To Be or Not To Be 01/02
Date: Sun, 28 May 2000 21:05:53 +1200
From: Knightraven <knightraven@CLEAR.NET.NZ>
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU

This is my first UFer of sorts. <eg> Sorry no sex or implication of such in
this one. Please let me know what you think. It's short but...hm...sweet?<g>

Please archive at fkfanfic.com and the Ftp site.
Many thanks!
knightraven@clear.net.nz
http://home.clear.net.nz/pages/knightraven

To Be or Not To Be...
Knightraven
(c) 2000

  It had been two months since he had taken Natalie. She had found the cure,
but in exchange...she had given her life. She had sacrificed herself to him
through an act of altruism so great he thought his heart would burst just by
the mere thought of it.
  He was mortal. Not that it mattered anymore; Natalie was dead and all that
he had longed for had died in his arms.
  His father had refused to take his life and send them to heaven as one,
and as much as he so desired to just take his department issue pistol and
place it to his head, he truly believed that if he did so, he would never
join his love in the light, and they would eternally be apart.
  His sire had left him that night and he has not seen him since. He was
gone, just as surely as Natalie, leaving him painfully alone with his grief.

  Nick stood staring into the fogged mirror, having at least made it into
the bathroom, and equally as importantly, into the shower, today. He didn't
recognize the face reflected back. Gaunt, sunken cheeks with dark circles
under his bloodshot eyes, the man before him was nothing but a shell of what
he was.
  Nick dropped his gaze and let his toothbrush clatter into the sink.
Pushing away from the vanity, he left the bathroom to slowly pull on a fresh
shirt and the pants he had worn the previous day.

  Work. It was the only solace he held from the complete sorrow he was
suffering. Not that he ever got much work done, but his partner and captain
had been tolerant and had basically left him alone.
  Making it to the precinct, his usual half-hour later than when his shift
actually started, he flopped into his chair and flipped over the file on his
desk to begin his night's reading.

  Tracy watched her partner enter and sit down at his desk. He hadn't even
acknowledged her existence, but then she doubted he saw anything around him
anymore.
  He came to work, but she expected nothing from him, he was just there. She
and the Captain had let him be, arranging for another detective to act as
her substitute partner and take on Nick's active caseload. They sent Nick
the unsolveds, that way nothing was risked by him being here. They all
understood his need to be here. It was all he had...and it was where they
could keep an eye on him.
  He was starving himself, that much was obvious. She had never seen her
partner as thin and unkempt as he was. Progressively getting worse, she was
beginning to have more than her usual worry for him. He needed to see a
doctor, but knew he would refuse should she suggest it.
   Nick was...had been a vampire. She had learned this startling news the
night she had been shot. She had been astounded that her partner had, not
only kept this information from her, but had then miraculously become human
again.
   It had all come together for her then. The arrest and confession rate,
the oddities of his diet and allergies, his frequent visits to the Raven and
Nick's relationship with the owner.

  A woman walked up to their desks, her pantsuit and ID stating her
authority as the new ME. Natalie's replacement.
  The blonde woman placed a file on both hers and Nick's desk before walking
off.
  Tracy turned her attention to her partner. He had frozen, every muscle in
his body ridged as steel. She saw him sniff gently at the air, then close
his eyes tightly. He dropped his pen and his face became pinched. Rising
quickly, he almost ran into the nearest empty interview room and locked the
door behind him.
  Tracy stood and watched him go. He was crying she knew. But she had not
seen him do it in public, not since the funeral. She went to the closed door
and turned the handle. It was locked from the inside.  Quietly she called
throughout the door,
"Nick?" She was greeted by silence. She decided to leave him alone for a few
minutes and try again. Half an hour later and he still hadn't emerged, it
was beginning to pull the attention of the officers around the bullpen.
Tracy approached the door again.
"Nick? Are you okay?" she asked him, glancing about at the concerned faces.
Still no answer.
"Vetter, he had his gun," a detective told her quietly.
"Have you heard any shots?!" Tracy asked him angrily. The implication that
Nick was suicidal making her angry, not because it was untrue, but because
it drove her concern well above capable levels of containment. The detective
just raised his hands in submission and backed away.
"Nick!" she called, more forcefully. Damn it. She knew she had to do
something. But what could she do. Nick was being completely stubborn and
refused to talk to anyone, let alone her or the Captain.
  Reese was by her side a moment later.
"Knight! Open the door!" he demanded, hoping the order would get through to
his detective. Nothing. He turned to the room.
"Where's the key to this room?!" he demanded. A flood of blank faces stared
back, until one officer stepped forward and said,
"It broke off in the lock last shift, but I'll go to maintenance and get
another," he said quickly, not waiting for a response before he left and
went hunting for the spare key.
"Is there anyone we can call? Didn't Nick once say he had an uncle in town?"
Reese quietly asked Tracy. She thought for a moment and turned to her desk.
"Yeah. I'm not sure he'll come, but it's worth a go," she told him. Reese
nodded and left her make the call privately.
  Tracy was aware Lacroix was still at the Raven, Vachon had told her as
much. She was also all too aware she had 100% more contact with the vampire
community than her partner now did.
"Lacroix? It's Tracy Vetter," she spoke into the phone as the ancient
answered.
"Detective. What can I do for you?" He didn't sound overly happy to hear her
voice. She wasn't sure exactly how ask a 2000 year old vampire for help, so
she just came out and said it.
"Nick needs your help."
"I am sure he is able to handle any situation he may find himself in without
my assistance," he told her gruffly.
"Not this time, " she said softly. "He's not doing so good. He's not well,
I've never seen him , or anyone for that matter so depressed before. He's
skin and bone, unpredictable...and tonight something happened. I don't
exactly know what, but he's shut himself in an interview room and won't come
out." She paused for a moment before telling him, "He has his gun with
him...and I'm not convinced he won't use it." Her voice broke on the last
sentence and all she heard was silence from the other end, then,
"Very well." And the line was cut. Tracy took a deep breath and let it out
as she replaced the phone to the desk.
   Less than ten minutes later, a tall, black form entered the front doors
and quickly strode toward the homicide division.
"Where?" he demanded as soon as he was within range of her. Tracy pointed to
the closed door and watched as he headed toward it and tested the handle.
"Open this door," he demanded the room.
  Reese stepped from his office,
"We are getting a key," he told Lacroix.
"I am his father! You will open this door now, or I will open it myself!" he
growled.
  Reese stared at the man before him, and just as Lacroix's patience ran
out, an officer ran into the room welding a brass key. Lacroix took the key
from him and unlocked the door.
  With Tracy close behind, he gently opened the door and entered the
darkened room.
  It was completely dark but for the light coming in from under the door.
Lacroix frowned at the mortal woman following him in, but resisted from tell
her to leave, unsure as to how Nicholas would react to his presence. Though
the light was dim he easily saw his child sitting on the floor in the
furthest corner of the room. Lacroix moved closer, cautiously as he caught
sight of the gun being held atop his knees, almost absently, yet pointed in
the direction of the man's face. Lacroix eased himself to crouch at his
son's side though not daring to reach out and touch him, any wrong move now
could prove fatal.
  He almost gapped at the physical appearance of the man he had known and
loved for 800 years. Thin, pale, gaunt, exhausted. His usual remedy to this
situation would be to feed him a few bottles of a fine human vintage or,
more likely, from himself...but Nicholas was no longer immortal. This would
take much longer to repair. After a moment of staring into his son's face,
Nick softly rasped,
"I can't seem to finish." His eyes steadily focused on the gun in his hands.
Hoping that if he stared hard enough he would be able to pull the trigger
and it would all be over.
  Lacroix slowly reached up and gently pried the gun from his son's hands.
The younger man let it go without any resistance. He quickly handed it back
to Tracy.
Nick began to tremble.
"We need a blanket," Lacroix told the detective who quickly took the loaded
weapon and left to do his bidding.

  Tracy walked from the room and over to her desk, carrying Nick's gun
tentatively.     Reese moved to intercept her,
"Tracy was he...?" Tracy stopped his question with a sharp nod of her head
and briskly wiped the tear suddenly falling down her cheek.
Nick hadn't looked like he could quite pull the trigger, but who knows how
long it would have been before that had changed.
"Hell," Reese exclaimed quietly running a hand over his scalp and down his
weary features.
Tracy locked her partner's gun in her desk draw then left to pull a blanket
from the supply cupboard.

  Lacroix pulled Nick into his lap and held him. Nick neither accepted nor
refused the comfort, only letting his head fall to the ancient's shoulder,
too tired to hold it up any longer. Lacroix stroked his hair and whispered
words of comfort. He had rarely seen his son so broken, so lost. Nicholas'
strength had always been something he so admired.
"Oh, Nicholas...what have you done?"
  He rocked him gently, waiting for the mortal to return with the blanket.
His own cool body was doing nothing to stop the trembling in his arms.
  Tracy returned, and they both wrapped Nick tightly into the blanket.
Lacroix scooped him into his arms and slowly stood, shuffling Nick until he
was secure and comfortable.
  Carrying his son, he walked through the interview room door and out into
the mass of his silent co-workers. He pulled Nick a little closer, holding
him protectively against his chest. Then with reverence, he walked his
burden through the building and out into the night.

End part one

Subject: To Be or Not To Be 02/02
Date: Sun, 28 May 2000 21:06:05 +1200
From: Knightraven <knightraven@CLEAR.NET.NZ>
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU

This is my first UFer of sorts. <eg> Sorry no sex or implication of such in
this one. Please let me know what you think. It's short but...hm...sweet?<g>

Please archive at fkfanfic.com and the Ftp site.
Many thanks!
knightraven@clear.net.nz
http://home.clear.net.nz/pages/knightraven

Part 2

   Out on the street, Tracy led him to a blue Taurus sedan. At his
questioning eyebrow, she explained.
"He doesn't drive the caddie anymore. I think it reminds him too much of
her," she said quietly. Lacroix just nodded and carefully placed Nick in the
back seat before sliding in to join him.
  Tracy got behind the wheel and silently drove toward the Raven, where
Lacroix had instructed her to go.
"How long has he been so?" he asked her after several minutes of silence.
"This bad...a couple of weeks," she told him. " But he's progressively
become worse since...since Nat died."
  The vampire remained silent for the rest of the journey.

"Thank you Miss Vetter," he said as she shut the door after he had pulled
Nick from the car.
"If you need anything..." she offered. Lacroix nodded, and turned toward the
back door of the club.
  Tracy watched as he disappeared with Nick in his arms. With a sigh, she
slid back into the car and headed back to work. She was sure Nick was now in
capable hands...the best hands...the hands he needed if he was to ever
survive this.

  Lacroix gently, placed his son upon the bed and began to remove his
clothing. He closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath as Nicholas'
body was revealed. He had seen worse, but only during famine and war. He
realized he would have to call upon a mortal doctor to come and examine the
boy.
  Tucking him under the covers, he made sure his son was warm enough, then
he stepped back and all but fell into the chair beside the door.
"Nicholas..."

  He had excommunicated his son the moment he had become mortal...but it had
not been as easy to banish the feelings and emotions he felt for his strong
willed son.
  Rising, he realized he had nothing in the building suitable for a mortal
to eat, so he hesitantly left to tend to a few things, sure Nicholas would
sleep soundly for a time.
  He ordered food to be delivered, he would force-feed it to his son, if
need be, and set about adjusting the thermostat and other trivial items for
Nicholas' comfort.
  Lacroix was standing at the fireplace sipping from a glass when he heard
the first stirrings of his son's awakening.
Quickly going to his bedside, he sat on the mattress and patiently waited.

  Nick slowly woke and opened his eyes. He blinked several times before he
suddenly bolted upright and fought the bedsheets to move away from the
vampire before him.
"What have you done?!" he screamed, his hands going to his neck to feel or
any marks. "Tell me!!!" he demanded hysterically.
"Nicholas!" Lacroix said, firmly grabbing his sons flailing hands to keep
him from harming himself.
"Stay away from me!!" Nick shouted fearfully, lashing out at his sire. The
state of his son, and his reaction to his presence, tightened the vampire's
chest but he calmly placated his child.
"Nicholas, I have done nothing. Feel," he said, taking Nick's hand and
placing the palm against his cheek. "It feels cool, yes?" he asked the
still, yet frightened, man.
Nick slowly nodded.
"You didn't bring me across?" he finally asked shakily.
"No."
"Why?"
"I was not sure it would be what you desired...Consent...given freely."
Nick slowly pulled his hand back, and quickly covered his lap with the
sheet. Lacroix smiled slightly at the unconscious move. After all these
centuries, Nicholas was still so modest.
"Then why am I here?" Nick asked. Lacroix looked him in the eye and frowned.
"Do you recall what happened at work tonight?" he asked. Nick frowned, then
shook his head.
"Your partner called me to come and assist you...They were concerned for
your safety," he quietly told him. Nick continued to frown, then it quietly
lifted and a tear came to his eye.
"I smelt her...Her perfume...she always wore it," he said, drifting into a
past memory. Lacroix quickly prevented him from delving any deeper.
"You must put an end to this self destruction, Nicholas. It is surely
killing you just as your weapon would have." Nick just shook his head and
made to turn away, but Lacroix pulled his head back to face him.
"It is time for you to make a decision, Nicholas," he stated authoritatively
though his tone remained gentle. "You must choose...To live as a mortal; to
live in the sun, to learn to love again, to have many children and have a
full life until you pass over in old age...Or, to come back into the night,
to live a far richer life through all eternity," he told him. Nick began to
shake his head adamantly.
"No."
"Listen to me Nicholas. If you chose to join me again...your life would be
your own ...to do with as you please. I will not interfere," Lacroix spoke
softly.
Nick stared at him, his mouth moving, but no sound came forth.
"Or if you so wish...I shall send you to your maker tonight, swiftly and
without pain," Lacroix's voice wavered a little as he spoke these last
words. He surely hoped his son would not ask that of him ever again.

  Nick felt the tears well up quickly and before he can stop him self, he
was wracked by powerful sobs. Feeling lost, he glanced about him, until a
pair of powerful arms pulled him into their embrace. Nick found himself
clutching at his father, moaning mournfully as he buried his face into his
breast.

  Lacroix held his son tightly against him, stroking his hair and placing
kisses against his hair. The warm body in his arms heaved and shuddered as
his son's grief exploded from within. He rocked him gently, comforting him
as best he could, hardly noting the cool tears, which slid down his own
cheek.
Although he had always thrown their 800-year-old agreement in Nicholas'
face, he had never meant to have his son inflicted with such pain...a pain
he himself knew all too well.
  Lacroix managed to maneuver them both to lie down on the bed. He kicked
his shoes off and let them thud to the floor. He pulled his son closer, and
they fell into their familiar positions. Nick curled into his side, his head
tucked protectively under his chin, while he wrapped his arms about his body
and held him tight.

  Nicholas was soon asleep, but he was having difficulty. His son had not
given him an answer. What if he did ask him to take his life once again? He
had failed the first time, why would now be any different?
Because he knew...Nicholas was dying, and as he would with a fatally wounded
animal, he would dig deeply to find the humanity within himself to release
it from its pain as quickly as possible. But this was his son, not an
animal... but perhaps only because it was Nicholas could he do ever this. He
had failed him once...and he would do everything in his power to prevent
that from happening again.
And what if he chose to remain mortal? He would leave him be. Perhaps stop
by to visit now and then...
  Both these options left his heart heavy. It would be some time before he
ever made another to call his child...if ever.

  The sun fell and he left his son to make a call to an acquaintance. Felix
would be sure to send him a respectable mortal doctor.
Then not wishing to leave Nicholas for too long, he returned to bed and held
him until the telephone rang, the barman announcing the arrival of the
practitioner. Rising reluctantly, he strode to greet the man and guide him
back to his sleeping son.

  A balding man in his sixties entered at his beckoning and he moved to his
Nick and leaned over to gently wake him.
"Nicholas," he said softly. His son finally stirred and he quickly
introduced the doctor.
"Nicholas, this is Dr Ryan. He is going to check on your health."
  Nick frowned and shrugged nonchalantly, turning his gaze away from the
men, obviously not terribly happy about the intrusion. The doctor shared a
glance with Lacroix and the vampire just shook his head in defeat.
  Without much ado, the doctor gave Nick a physical, then leading the
ancient from the room, he told him,
"He is malnourished and I can guess he is suffering from depression. I am
going to prescribe minerals and vitamins, a diet regime, and a mild
anti-depressant."
Lacroix frowned.
"Will that be necessary?" The doctor raised his eyebrows and firmly nodded.
"I believe so. He is a very sick man, Mr. Lacroix. He needs time, and a
little help to heal," and he added gently," And some wounds will take longer
than others."
Lacroix took the perscriptions he held out to him and nodded, then saw the
man out.

Returning to Nicholas, who he sensed was still awake though his eyes were
closed
and he was turned away from the door.
"Why did you bring him here?" he asked haughtily.
"Because you are ill, Nicholas. When a mortal becomes unwell, then one must
call upon a mortal doctor," he said patiently. When Nick was silent for
sometime he asked,
"Would you care for some food? I have had some delivered."
Nick just shook his head and turned his face further into the pillow.
Lacroix sighed, but at this moment he decided to leave him. But if he had
not eaten by midnight, he would force him to eat if need be.
He had someone fill the prescription the doctor had given to him. And by
midnight he had made up one of the high-nutrient meals for his son to drink.
   Entering the bedroom he placed the tray on the bedside table and gently
touched his son's shoulder to wake him.
"Hmm?" Nick mumbled sleepily.
"Come, it is time to eat." As well as the special drink he had brought in
some fresh fruit and bread.
"I'm not hungry," Nick muttered and closed his eyes again.
"Nicholas you must," he said, exasperated.
"Leave me alone," Nick moaned.
"No, I will not," Lacroix growled. " I will not sit by and watch you starve
yourself to death. There are much quicker ways to kill yourself it that is
what you wish to do!"
He sighed and dropped his head as he saw Nicholas's shoulders begin to
shudder rapidly as he began to weep once again. He looked up again and moved
over to sit down on the bed behind his son, pulling him up into his chest,
stroking his hair.
"Nicholas. I earlier gave you a choice. What do you wish to do? Do you wish
to die?" After a moment his son's shudders grew more manageable and he
responded.
"I don't know...sometimes. It just hurts so much..." Nick's sobs began again
and Lacroix closed his eyes and held him again. His son had truly come to
breaking point and perhaps beyond. And ironically enough it had nothing to
do with him, except perhaps his inability to take his son's life when this
had all began.
Lacroix lifted his head and let it fall back against the headboard.
"Please..." He dropped it again at the whisper. "Help me," Nick rasped, his
tears still falling freely.
  Lacroix felt his heart heave and he buried his face into his son's golden
hair pulling him back to clutch him tightly. But he soon pulled himself away
enough to reach for the drink sitting beside them. He pulled them both up
into a sitting position and placed the glass to his son's parched lips.
"Drink, mon fils. Boire," he said gently, and he was rewarded by the lips
moving and taking in a small mouthful of the revitalizing liquid and
swallowing. He kissed his son's head and held the glass as he took another
swallow.

  Nick managed to drink half the glass before feeling ill. But his master
seemed appeased. He wasn't too sure what he wanted. Only that right now, he
wished the pain to go away, to have the empty hole in his heart filled, but
for now he would live one day at a time. At least, for now, he wasn't alone
anymore.

  Lacroix caressed his son's face until the mortal had fallen asleep in his
arms, he then shifted him and laid him down to rise and removed his own
clothing and slide back in beside him. He pulled Nicholas back into his arms
and he felt the young man's arms clutch him even in his sleep.
Nicholas would not be returning to work anytime soon, a phone call from his
captain had made sure of that. His son was on medical leave for an
indefinite period of time. It was for the best though. His son had been
unfit to do his mortal job from the day his good doctor had died in his
arms. He found himself missing the alluring doctors presence in this
life...Perhaps it would be better to move on, somewhere fresh,
new...anywhere but here amongst the remains of their life. For both of them
this city harbored too much pain.

   Three months later they sat together on the balcony of their Parisian
apartment.
Lacroix sipped from his usual vintage as his son treated himself with a fine
Merlot.
Even with the glow of humanity his son still held a grace and eloquence
which had been born from a life amongst the elite of life.
"Have you given any thought to the question I posed to you, Nicholas?" he
asked softly not wishing to disturb the easy peace between them.
The road to recovery had been hard for them both. And though Nicholas was
far from being the man he once was, he was much improved from the fragile
man he held in his arms day after day for those first two months.
Nick sighed gently.
"Yes," he breathed. He looked to the glass in his hand before glancing up to
his sire.
"I wish to come back...If you'll have me," Nick told him quietly.
Lacroix grasped his glass almost to the point of breakage, but instead had
the presence to place it upon the table before him.
"Of course I will have you, Nicholas," he breathed. He rose and went to his
son's side, crouching. He ran a hand through his blonde curls. "Oh,
Nicholas, I will always have you. Have I not proven this time and again?"
Nick met his intense gaze, his eyes glistening in the pale light of the
moon. Nick reached forward and impulsively wrapped his arms around the
elders shoulders, pulling him close.
"Yes," he whispered in his ear.

End.

knightraven@clear.net.nz
http://home.clear.net.nz/pages/knightraven