Date: Fri, 27 Sep 1996 11:26:34 -0600 From: Dorothy Elggren Thanks to my beta readers Mike and Debra Ann. A special thank you to my sister Jeanne, for reading and commenting--even though she has never seen Forever Knight. I was supposed to post this story over a month ago, but things happened. As a result, it's a much better story and was hopefully worth the wait. The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) is copyrighted by Paul Simon, and sung by Simon and Garfunkel. Oh, and the Grinch, of course, belongs to Dr. Seuss. Please archive this story on the ftp site. Other stuff...yada yada... Finally, this is dedicated to Kayleen (missed ya big time!). Send comments to delggren@es.com. This story takes place immediately following Avenging Angel. Feelin' Groovy by Dorothy Elggren He felt caged. He couldn't sleep. He tried painting but it required concentration. He had none. He paced. He played. The chords crashed together disharmoniusly. He pounded the piano into submission, but not his thoughts. He tried drinking. It burned hotly through his core, but it didn't help. There was no oblivion. The hands on the clock seemed stuck. In the false darkness of the loft, tiny refractions of light shoved their way through the shades; the small hints of light they created seemed frozen in time. He could not escape his thoughts. Over and over he saw Laura Stone's face; and the remote look of peace cracking when he told her that Julie had confessed. Superimposed on Laura's image was Julie's, not comprehending what she had done. All that had been there was her need--wanting revenge, wanting justice, and wanting an end to it. Other memories crashed through his thoughts. He couldn't save ... any of them. It all became a tumble of images and emotions. The sun inched towards the horizon, at last disappearing. Nick flung himself out of the loft, trying to escape. Futility. He drove aimlessly, not at all happy to have the night off. Work would have given him focus, someplace to direct his thoughts. Instead he and his recalcitrant thoughts wandered the expressways and byways of Toronto. Habit turned on the radio, tuning in LaCroix. ".. cannot find perspective on the events in his life. Does he feel guilty for his actions and deem them all evil? Does he take on the guilt of others in an attempt to assuage his overactive need to do penance, to..." Nick shut the radio off--violently. He flipped on the police scanner and let the actions of the night wash through his thoughts. "....in progress at the corner of Yonge and...." He wondered how he could have helped Laura Stone. Why didn't he see sooner what was going on? He felt pain stab through him, threatening to overwhelm him at how she had thrown her life away. "....Forty-Two Bravo in pursuit of robbery suspect on Queen ..... request backup...." Why didn't he see through Julie's description of the murder? Why? Why? "....missing eight-year old ..... wearing pink sneakers, blue jacket and last seen near...." Why was it that there were so many that suffered at the hands of others, through no fault of their own? Why was it woman seemed to bear the brunt of it so often? How many had born the brunt of it because of him? "....attempted break-in at a residence on Superior...." Janette's haunted cry came back to him. "A thousand years, Nicola, a thousand years and nothing has changed." So it seemed. Nothing had changed; not for Janette, or Julie, or Laura--and not for him. The light turned red, and he brought the Caddy to a halt. He watched cars pass, but they didn't register in his conscious mind. Nick burrowed into his personal hell with a refinement born of centuries of practice. He flagellated himself with remorse. Remorse for the times he'd loved what he was. Nevermind that at the time he'd loved it. Like all history, it was redefined by his present mind-set of guilt, hatred, and shame--remorse for the thrill of taking the blood. The rush of it into his mouth. The taste of it. The taste of fear. The power. The lust. The dominance. The exquisite knife-edged orgasmic moment when their life's blood was his. That moment when he possessed them totally, utterly, and knew them completely, became them. He felt desire swell in him. He swallowed, and for just a moment he could taste blood; sweet, oh so sweet, human blood and wanted it still. A car horn blared him out of his bitter-sweet soliloquy. He put the Caddy in gear and moved forward. "....possible homicide at...." Nick shut off the police radio with a definitive click. Suddenly, he didn't want to hear about tomorrow's work right now, either. He hesitated, then turned the radio back on. Haunting music flowed out. LaCroix was taking a break from his monologue it would seem. He switched stations searching for something that didn't tear at his heart, searching for anything that wouldn't destroy him. ...and feelin' groovy. la da da da da da da da da, feelin' groovy. Nick reached to change the station. He didn't feel happy, thank-you-very-much, and he didn't feel groovy. But something caught at him and he stopped, and listened. He'd liked Simon and Garfunkel. Funny how he'd forgotten that, what station was this anyway? A 60's station? He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard a Simon and Garfunkel tune, nor could he remember the last time he'd felt carefree... Hello lamppost whatcha knowing? I come to watch your flowers growing. Ain't you got not rhymes for me. do it and do do, feelin' groovy. I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep. I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. Let the morningtime drop all its petals on me. Life I love you, all is groovy. ba de da da da da da da da... He switched the radio off, leaving the da das hanging in the air. He felt as if something had lifted a bit in his heart. He found, to his surprise he was in suburbia, far from downtown Toronto. A little park, an oasis, lay on his right. Impulsively he pulled over and parked the Caddy. The moon had risen, casting its light over the trees, the flowers, the swing set and tricky bars. He walked past the silent playground and stopped on the other side of a little pool. A gentle hill rose up from the pool's edge. He walked up it, slowed and stopped. Some impulse beckoned to him to lay back on the gentle slope and rest his weary heart. Why not, he thought. He flung himself down almost defiantly. His dark thoughts caught up with him and began to eddy around once again. He stared up at the moon. My substitute sun, he thought grimly. That's as much light as you will ever have, Nick. *Ever*. The stars seemed to snicker at him. The trees whispered in chorus. It's all you deserve, Nick. It's all you deserve. The breeze echoed the refrain--all you deserve, all you deserve... He listened to it all, and let his self-hatred overflow. The water lapping at the shore, hiccuping, and slurping was calming. The gentle sounds snuck through his thoughts. The torrential flow of thoughts slowed and eased. There was only him and the moon. Silences between small breezes, water against shore, no heartbeats, no people, and finally, no mocking thoughts--just the moonlight sharing his solitude. Peace attempted to plant a seed in him, but he yanked it out. He didn't deserve peace, he thought. He wished he was human. He wished he could find a way to atone for what he had done. He wished with all his heart, oh *how* he wished... The heartbeat intruded on his thoughts. It fluttered rapidly, steadily. Feet plodded forward coming closer and closer. He could hear the grass swishing as each foot dragged along. He resented someone intruding on his solitary mood, and yet simultaneously, was glad for the interruption. He sent his senses out. He smelled jelly babies and chocolate. He could hear steady breathing as well as the heartbeat, and felt the answering call inside him to sync up to it, to hunt it. He shook his head and sat up. Four feet of determination plowed over the ridge and stopped short, staring wide-eyed at him. He stared back. She was blonde and blue-eyed, like him. Her hair made no attempt to rest sedately around her head. It was flying in all directions at once. He took in her striped t-shirt and blue jacket, the dirty jeans, the purple purse dragging on the ground, and her pink sneakers. *Pink sneakers*. His mind kicked into gear. With perfect recall, he heard the report in his mind... "....report of a missing eight-year old. Melissa Janssen. Wearing pink sneakers, blue jacket, and last seen near Howard and Thomas Drive...." End Part 1 Feelin' Groovy (Part 2) by Dorothy Elggren "Hello," he said. Her heart was racing now. He knew she was afraid She stared at him. "Kind of late to be out strolling in the park, isn't it?" Nick asked softly. "Shouldn't you be home in bed?" Nothing but mute determination stared at him. He stared back. He wasn't sure who was going to win this contest. He didn't deal with children that often. He didn't like to. They saw through you so easily--past all pretension. And they weren't afraid to ask questions. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said finally, with finality. "Well, that's probably a good idea." Nick agreed. "But then, you probably aren't supposed to be out this late at night, either, are you?" he probed gently. He remained sitting on the ground, leaning back on his hands, trying to look as harmless as possible. He didn't want to scare her anymore than she already was. "I'm Nick," he said, feeling somehow on the defensive. She looked at him, clear-eyed. It was as if she saw straight through to his heart. Pierced his defenses. He felt truth welling up in him, needing to escape. "I'm a police officer, a detective," Nick said quietly and seriously. "I was just lying here looking at the moon." He squinted up at the sky, then smiled at her. "Just taking a break. Sometimes my job is really hard. I see people who are hurt and need help, and I try to help them. Sometimes I need to get away because I can't always help them, and I feel bad." He stared away for a moment, his feelings overwhelming him once more. Feeling bad was the understatement of the century. Tears pricked at him, but he shut them off. Closing off his heart and his feelings and denying himself once more, he looked at the dirty urchin in front of him. Watching her closely he knew he had said something that touched her. Odd, they touched him too. He realized that just saying the words was very cathartic. Maybe what he had needed all day was just somebody to talk to. Strange that it would be a missing eight-year-old on some unknown quest. For it was obvious to him that she had a mission, and this was just a temporary stop on the way to .... whatever it was. Her stance relaxed slightly. Her interest was caught in spite of herself. "Why can't you help them?" she asked. "Sometimes because they won't let me. Sometimes because they get so angry they do things they normally wouldn't, but then it's too late and they hurt other people. They end up in trouble, and they ruin their lives. And it shouldn't be that way." Nick saw Laura's face again, hovering in a corner of his mind. He blinked her away. She squatted down suddenly, tilted her head sideways and looked at him. "Did somebody do something bad? Is that why you're so sad?" Nick felt his throat tighten. He swallowed. Was it that obvious? He smiled wanly. "Yes. Somebody who has been hurt a lot, hurt somebody else last night. I tried to get there in time, but I didn't make it. So here I am... talking to the moon." Nick looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he looked up. "And you know what? I feel better." And it was true, his mood had indeed eased, and peace had been seeping into his soul. She hunched over pensively, and stared at the grass. She pulled at her shoelace. "Do you think talking to the moon can make me feel better?" she asked. "Maybe." Nick answered quietly. "Or maybe I can. I still have plenty of time to help someone out tonight..." They sat in companionable silence for a moment. She played with her shoelace. Nick watched her. "I heard over my radio that a little girl wearing pink sneakers and a blue jacket is missing. That wouldn't be you now, would it?" She looked up at him, her face full of woe. "Hello, Melissa", he said. She stared at him. "You are Melissa, aren't you?" Nick asked. "Are you missing?" Tears slid down her cheeks. Nick searched his pockets and produced a kleenex. She took it and blew her nose defiantly. He gave thanks to whoever might be listening that he hauled such mundane items around to aid the occasional weeping witness. "Want to talk about it?" Nick asked, edging closer. She shook her head in some kind of circular motion that could have been yes or no. Nick waited. Then it came out like a dam bursting. "Mummy got sick. She went to the 'spital. She never came back. Why didn't she come back? She promised she would. She promised!" Melissa wailed. It trailed off into a series of heartwrenching sobs. Nick put his arms around her and pulled her close. His silk shirt was soon wet with tears. Time passed and shadows created by the moon slid seductively over them. He waited patiently until her chest stopped heaving, her sobs fell silent, and the tears stopped falling. "Melissa?" he said, "I don't know why she didn't come back. No one ever knows those answers." He looked into her eyes and smiled gently. "But she still loves you. She didn't stop loving you because she went away. "Mwhshprms." Melissa muttered against his shirt. "What?" Nick asked. "Why'd she promise? It's not fair. IT'S NOT FAIR!" she wailed. Nick waited through a second round of tears. Her small body heaved in his arms. Nick ached for her, he ached for himself. She had lost her mother, the center of her life, her innocence. He, too, had lost his innocence--oh, so long ago. He had bought an eternity of pain, in a single moment where he had been caught by his emotions. Logic had lost out and he'd been on a skewer, slowly roasting ever since. He looked down at Melissa, slowly relaxing in his arms. How could he help her from making the same kind of bad mistakes, born of emotion out of control? How could he help her find wisdom before she ruined her life? Running away at eight was not a promising sign. "Melissa, is it because your mother died that you are running away?" "M'not running away." A voice buried in his chest said. "Okay, you're not running away." Nick said agreeably. "What are you doing, then?" Melissa sat up abruptly. Her hair, full of static strained to reach Nick's shirt. It sparked in the darkness. She reached up and flattened it impatiently. "I'm just going to our special place. Mummy used to take me there cuz she loved it. She said it was like being in heaven. I just want to go there one more time." She sighed and hugged herself tightly, scrunching up into a ball. "Why one last time?" "Cuz Daddy got a job in Winnepeg and we're leaving next week." "Why didn't you ask your Daddy to take you?" Nick probed gently. Melissa looked up at him and tears slid down her face. She rubbed her hand across her face. Nick handed her another kleenex and she blew her nose. "Melissa?" "Daddy doesn't want to talk about Mummy. He doesn't want to talk about anything. He never talks to me at all except to tell me to do something. He's always angry now." Nick absently rubbed her back as she talked. He understood more than she said. Denial was a lot easier than accepting what fate dished out. He'd been denying his fate for almost 800 years. He could understand how Melissa's father could be denying his wife's death. He certainly understood the pain and the anger, and the lashing out at any reminder. "So you are going to your special place, and then what?" "I dunno," she shrugged, "Mummy used to say that you could talk to God there and he would hear you cuz you were so close. I thought I could talk to Mummy and she'd hear me. I'm scared to go to Winnepeg. How will Mummy know where I am?" "I think she will always know where you are, Melissa--even in heaven. And she'll hear you and watch over you wherever you are." Nick said. He wondered briefly if his mother watched over him, or if she had turned away in horror at what he had become. It was not something he had ever contemplated in his 800 years. Suddenly, desperately, he hoped that she still loved him, despite his life, despite what he had become. He hoped that she knew where he was and that he was trying, really trying. "I know", Melissa hiccuped. "I just wanted to be...I just wanted to be close to her." There was a hint of more tears in her voice, but Nick decided to press on. "And where is your special place that you could be close to her?" Nick asked. Melissa pointed up to the sky, and Nick, following her direction, saw her destination. The CN Tower. Well, why not?, he mused. End Part 2 Feelin' Groovy (Part 3) by Dorothy Elggren Nick thought for a moment. "Melissa, the tower may be as close as we can get to there from here, but I don't think you have to be up high to be close to your Mummy, because wherever you are is a special place to her. Don't you know she's with you every second, watching over you, listening to you, loving you. Even if you can't see her, she's still there. Looking down on you." Nick didn't know where the words were coming from, but suddenly he believed, too. His mother was watching, listening and loving him, too. And even if he had stepped out of the God's light, maybe God still watched over him, too. Maybe that was where the strength to endure came from sometimes....." Melissa looked at him as if she wanted to believe, but couldn't. Impulsively, Nick let a wild idea take root, acting before he really thought it out. Without realizing it, he was letting the soul of the care-free knight peek out from his angst, and it leaped at the chance. He jumped to his feet and held out a hand to Melissa. "Let me show you the world as your Mummy sees it. Let me show how she watches out for you." Nick said. "How?" Nick grinned. "Let's just say that besides being a cop, I'm your guardian angel for the night. Do you like flying, Melissa? Because we are going flying. Just like your Mummy does when she comes to watch over you." Melissa backed away from his hand and looked at him like he was nuts. "Trust me," Nick pleaded. He needed this as much as he knew Melissa did. Blue eyes met blue eyes, and yet Nick did not so much as lean a fraction on her will. He just let her look at him with her clear eyes and see his tattered soul. Slowly, she put her warm, soft hand in his cool one. "Have you ever been flying?" Nick asked. "No." "Just hang on tight, and if you get scared, don't look down. Remember, I won't let anything happen to you." Nick picked Melissa up in his arms. She stared at him. "How can you fly?" she asked suddenly. "Don't you need a plane or something?" "It's a long story, longer than we have, and unimportant. It's sort of a gift. Now put your arms around me." Nick said softly. "Hold on." And slowly, he lifted off the ground. Melissa stared wide-eyed down at the ground safe from the shelter of Nick's arms. Higher and higher he flew. Not fast, but not slow, either. The stars wheeled and dipped and soared around them. He felt like the Grinch when his heart grew two sizes, and his flight was a dance among the clouds. Melissa laughed as they waltzed through a cloud, leaving fluffy wisps in their wake. They looked down in wonder on the twinkling lights of Toronto, and watched the waves of Lake Ontario glow in the moonlight. Nick spiraled higher and higher until they were far above the CN Tower. Then slowly, they slid through the night sky until he touched down lightly on the roof of the tower. Melissa's mouth was open, a wide "O". Her eyes were lit with awe and wonder. Nick hugged her tightly and smiled. "See, Melissa, this is how your Mummy sees the world now. She looks down from above and slips through the clouds to watch you. From heaven everything is beautiful. Everything." "Ohhhh." Melissa exhaled slowly. "It's so pretty." She stared in wonder about her. The moonlight dipped everything in silver, and no sounds save the wind touched them. "Nick, do you mind if I talk to Mummy for a moment?" Nick gently put her down. "No, Melissa, I don't mind at all." He moved away, but still his hearing caught her words. "Mummy, did you know that Daddy and I are moving to Winnepeg? We're going next Monday. Daddy's got a new job there. I'm afraid to go there. I'll be all alone. Will you come and watch over us there?" There was a minute of silence. Nick started to move towards her when she continued. "I love you. I miss you so much. Please don't forget me, and please help Daddy to love me. He's always so angry now. Please...." And then... "Thank you God, for sending Nick to show me how Mummy sees me. Thanks for sending me an angel." Nick felt his heart melt, and tears came to his eyes. He wiped them away before they left bloody tracks down his face. Melissa looked up at him, her face shining with a light from inside her. She smiled at Nick. "I'm ready to go home now." she said simply. Nick picked her up and they soared once more into the air. The wind whistled through their hair as he headed back to the park. But then he thought better of it. "Melissa?" "Yeah," she said from the circle of his arms, her eyes bright and happy. "What's your address? "820 William Circle." "Okay, we're on our way." Nick said while he mentally accessed the road map of Toronto's suburbs in his head. Every year he got the latest map and looked it over carefully for changes. You never knew when you would need to know something. Tonight, apparently, was one of those nights. He changed directions and sent them soaring through the night sky. Shadows against the moon.... All too soon he slowly drifted down to the ground near her house. Lights blazed out of it, cars were parked hapazardly all around. Activity emanated from it. He landed behind a large oak, safe from view. Melissa sighed as he set her on the ground. She looked like a little angel, Nick thought. Happiness radiated from her and warmed his cold heart. "Melissa, do you think you will be okay, now?" he asked. She smiled. "Yes. Thank you." Her hand crept into his and held it tight. He looked down at her trusting face and felt tears forming once more. He felt light-headed. Could this be happiness? End Part 3 Feelin' Groovy (Part 4) by Dorothy Elggren They smiled at each other wordlessly. Time slipped by unnoticed. Finally, Nick recalled himself. He knelt and took her by the shoulders. "Melissa, tonight something very special happened, for both of us. But it's something you can't tell anybody about, do you understand? Remember it, hold it in your heart and draw on it when things are bad, but you can't tell anyone." "Why?" she asked, puzzled. "Because if you tell people, they will come to question me, and then I'll have to go away." Melissa was puzzled, "Why do you have to go away?" "That's just the way it works. I can't explain it, but I have things to do here still before I go, I have many people still to help. I need to stay. Will you promise?" Nick reached gently into her mind and helped her along. "Yes, I promise, I understand." she said. While he still held her mind in his, he did one more thing. "Melissa, you will always be able to recall this night perfectly, whenever you have need. This moment will always be with you." "Yes, it will" she agreed. He let her go, and she smiled at him. Nick stood and took her hand and they walked up to her front door and with her free hand, she opened it and led him in. Her father, in the midst of activity, looking up saw her, and shouted her name. "MELISSA! Oh thank God!" he cried as he ran to her and lifted her up in his arms, hugging her tight. The worry lines on his face smoothed out. Nick smiled as he watched. He suddenly knew he could do a little more good here tonight. A torrent of questions flowed out of Michael Janssen. "Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? I was so worried...." Nick touched him gently on the arm, and as he looked at him, Michael realized there was a stranger in his house. Nick produced his badge. Melissa followed her father's gaze and grinned. "Daddy, this is Nick." she said. "Nick Knight, Metro PD." Nick said by way of introduction. "Melissa is fine, and no harm has come to her." He looked at Janssen and smiled. "Can we talk for a moment in private?" "Uh, sure." Michael said. "You stay right there young lady," he said sternly to Melissa. Nick and Michael walked out onto the porch and then Nick led him down onto the lawn and under the sheltering oak tree. "Mr. Janssen, I found your daughter heading across town. She wasn't running away, and she wasn't kidnapped," Nick said, forestalling his questions. "Melissa was just going to the CN Tower, because it was a special place she shared with her mother, and she's lonely and frightened." Michael's face tightened. He looked down and spoke lowly. "Yeah, we've both had a real rough time since her mother died." "I know. Melissa told me." Silence stretched between them. "Michael," Nick said. Nick focused on Michael's heartbeat and synched up with it. Michael looked up and was caught in Nick's gaze. His eyes glazed over and he waited quiescently. Nick reached into his mind and spoke to him. "Michael, let go of your anger. It stands as a barrier between you and your daughter, preventing you from helping each other. Your daughter needs you to love her, and you need her to love you. Your wife wouldn't have wanted you to live your life with a frozen heart. Open your heart to her and you will find healing within each other. Let the tears out and let them heal you." He watched Michael carefully. "Let the pain out." Michael murmured. He continued. "Melissa is afraid to go to Winnepeg. Help her. Pay attention to her and give her your time. Work is not the most important thing in your life. Melissa is." "Melissa is the most important thing..." Nick smiled slightly. "One more thing, don't be afraid to fall in love again. Love will heal you. Let other people into your life." He felt the anger in Michael's mind start to dissolve and the barriers start to break down, and Nick let him go. Michael looked at him slightly dazed with tears welling in the corner's of his eyes. Nick said gently. "Now go take care of your daughter. I'll let dispatch know she's been found. Michael turned and walked back to his house without a word. The door shut gently behind him, and Nick, with his hearing, could hear him greet his daughter. "Let's go upstairs and get you ready for bed, sweetie. We need to have a long, long talk..." Nick took to the air. He felt slightly giddy. He couldn't remember ever using his powers like this, to truly help, to dissolve barriers, to free someone from their pain and help them heal. He couldn't help himself--he did one barrel-roll, and then another, and then flew straight up into the sky, as far as he could go, where the moon dusted the clouds. His heart felt at peace, and slowly he drifted back to the ground where the Caddy waited patiently. As he drove home, he tried to describe the feelings he felt. Suddenly he laughed, and then he couldn't stop laughing. He felt... dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. He felt .... groovy. End ***** Author's Notes: I had been watching first season episodes, and really missed the sense of humor Nick had when this story hit me. I have tried to capture some of the lightness of heart he had in this story, and bring it into the third season. I just can't help but think that Nick deserves to have a good day at least once a decade. While the PTB didn't see fit to do these kinds of stories, especially in the third season, doesn't mean that they couldn't happen. Nick has had so much bad karma, he really needed a lift. So I gave him one. Let me know what you think. Send comments to delggren@es.com.