Chapter 8

... my old man
I'd sit on his lap in that big old buick and steer as we drove through town,
My Hometown, Bruce Springsteen

Sutton, Surrey, November 27^th

Staring out the window into the courtyard, Gavin watched as Christophe ran across the flagstones to wrap his arms around his mother's neck, burying his face in her hair with a squeal of laughter.

"When was the last time you were hugged like that, Gavin?" Caerys asked, walking up behind him, peering over his shoulder. He stepped around the counter, shaking the scent of her freshly-washed hair out of his nose and the feel of its still slightly damp tendrils off his neck.

"Another shower? Are you planning to turn into a mermaid next?"

"Changing the subject? Running away again?" she mocked, leaning across the counter, her robe hanging open in front. Gavin's eyes never left hers for a second, she noticed, and couldn't decide if she was happy with that or not.

"Is there any point to this 'subject'?"

"I'm trying to get to know you, Gavin. You're like some big blank sheet, and every now and then there's a shadow-puppet we can see, but never anything more. A big black outline of something, but it's just a projection."

"And when I was last hugged will reveal all my secrets to you, will it?" She shrugged. "Maybe I don't want anyone to know. Maybe I'm happy just being me in my own head. This isn't going to last forever, you know. We'll finish this, you and Sophie will be free to go your own way, and then the less you know the safer I'll be."

"Or the easier it'll be to let us go." She hazarded, knowing she was right as his eyes narrowed. "It'll hurt less, won't it. It won't be like someone else is running out on you, they'll be running out on... on... this 'Gavin' creation." His face hung, the muscle on the point of his jaw twitching away, and his dark eyes glanced sideways at her across the wood. Every line of his arms was clear, the tension across his shoulders bringing out the big vein in his neck, and another across his bicep.

"Perhaps." He acknowledged, looking up, his eyes clear for perhaps the first time since they'd met. She realised, in that instance, with the frown lines gone and his fine eyebrows lifted up from over his eyesockets that his eyes weren't black this time, but a fine steely grey. "Perhaps it will be difficult to let you go."

"Perhaps we won't want to go?" she stepped around the counter, reaching for him, and he flinched away. "DAMN IT, GAVIN, AM I THAT FUCKING REPULSIVE!" she yelled, swinging up to slap his face, but he caught her wrist without even trying, calloused hands grasping for the briefest instant before he relaxed, stroking away any pain he might have caused.

"If that was the case, Caerys, we wouldn't have any sort of problem at all." He whispered to her, releasing her wrist to rub it gently, and turning away. She shivered at the tone, an obvious pain lingering under his words.

"How long has it been, Gavin." She asked, as he reached the door to his room.

"Never." He didn't turn. "No-one ever hugged me like that."

"Oh, Gavin..." tears came to her eyes, and he obviously heard them as he hurried through the door, closing it softly on her sympathy.

"Caerys?" Christophe stopped at the door a few minutes later, seeing Caerys brush her eyes gently.

"Go watch the television, Christophe." Sophie said, following in behind him, looking around the little kitchen with a frown.

"What happened?"

"He... I... Sophie, he's so sad." She sniffled. "Inside, I mean. It's... It's hard to find, he closes everything away, but I just got a sense of it..."

"Are you..." Sophie tried to query, still unsure of Caerys' claims.

"I'm not imagining it, Sophie. It's real — as real as his overnight rib fractures."

"Alright, I'm sorry." Sophie wrapped her arms round her, pulling her close. "I thought it might ease things up a little coming up here."

"It... he's more comfortable here." Caerys admitted. "It means nothing to him, being here. It's foreign ground. He doesn't feel at home in the bunker, but... it's closer. I think it's as close to a home as he has."

"How come?"

"There are reminders all around him, there... all his records, all the bits and pieces of the people he pretends to be when he goes away... it's tangible, there. Once he comes outside he just becomes someone... he's getting comfortable with Gavin. It's like... he doesn't really exist, any more, but the quest does, and being in the bunker is being at the heart of that quest."

"Maybe we should head back, then."

"You want him on edge?" Caerys pulled back a little to stare at her.

"If we're going to get him to break out of this we're going to have to set him on edge."

"We need Gavin, though. To get us out."

"It's all Gabriel, deep down. There aren't really other people, he's just pretending. Pretending well, but it's all an act."

"I mean... he says people do what makes them happy, right. So this makes him happy."

"No, this stops him feeling anything at all, he's trying to avoid feeling unhappy."

"Well, if he's just going to be unhappy, isn't that better?"

"Bad things happen in life — they've happened to us — but you get over them, eventually."

"... if you deal with them, right."

"Yes, exactly."

"So... what do we do?"

"Just talk to him, try to get him to talk about it." Sophie shrugged a little. "I'm not a psychologogist, but... what?" Caerys' giggle broke out into a genuine laugh.

"Psychologogist?"

"Do you know the French for it?" Sophie asked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and trying to look serious, but Caerys just laughed harder. Sophie stuck her tongue out, but turned serious as Caerys' eyes suddenly lost focus.

"Someone's here." She whispered, hunkering down low.

"Where's Christophe?" Sophie asked, looking around, and then hurrying over to the kitchen door. "CHRISTOPHE!"

"We have him, Caerys." A deep, bass rumble sounded from outside. "You know how we like children."

"Shit!" Caerys whispered, tears coming to her eyes.

"You know him?" Sophie whispered, keeping low herself. "Does... does he really have Christophe?" Caerys nodded.

"Come on out, Caerys... bring the woman with you."

"Will they hurt him?" Sophie asked, and she didn't need anything more than the look in Caerys' eyes to know the answer.

"Sable likes children." She whispered, a phrase loaded with meaning, and Sophie paled.

"We're waiting, Caerys..."

"Come on." Caerys grabbed Sophie's arm and dragged her towards the door. "Come on, or they'll hurt him..."

"What do they want?"

"Me, probably." Caerys fought to keep her jaw from quivering. "Come on, I don't want Christophe on my conscience."

"Where's Gavin?" Sophie looked around.

"I don't know, but I don't know that he's in any state to do anything, anyway. Sable's... he's huge."

"I can't see that stopping him."

"No," Caerys admitted, "probably not."

Sutton, Surrey, November 27^th

Slumped against the wall in the bedroom Gavin listened to the call, eyes narrowing, wondering exactly how much they knew. He had to assume they'd been watching the little house for their return, figuring the area for a base of operations — which it was, after a fashion.

That they'd waited until now, though, implied they didn't know about the bunker, which gave him a route out without being seen. The problem remained, though, that he was still in no state to fight. The thick, black ichor that had been leaking from the wound in his side had troubled him to the point where he'd almost asked Sophie to look at it, but she had her own problems to deal with — and he was reluctant to invite her any further into his.

Slipping down the stairs he made his way into the cellar and through the wooden panel into the bunker, heading for the armoury. If this morning was anything to go by, the recoil of a pistol or rifle would be more than he could take, but there were still options. Thinking quickly, he grabbed two of those options and headed up through the stairs and into the road that ran across the property and began to search around...

Two swarthy looking, bulky figures holding rifles were cut down easily with the sword, and he moved around the periphery of the area as silently as he could, quickly and silently despatching the other eight guards he found looking outward to keep out interlopers.

With them out the way, he closed in on the Crofter's lodge to see what was happening there. Sophie knelt on the pathway, hands bound behind her back, staring at where Christophe was being held back by a hand around his throat.

Caerys, though, stripped to the waist and with her shirt bound around her arms, tying them tightly up to the elbow behind her was what caught his attention. The bulky black figure in front of her couldn't completely obscure, couldn't hide the expression on her face from him as he raised the bow and gritted his teeth.

"Do with them as you will, Sable." The familiar voice of Caerys' father sounded through the crackling connection of a walkie-talkie. "Bring me the virgin unsullied when you're finished."

"Yes, Mr Michaelson." The bulky black figure — presumably Sable — replied, looking around at his four cohorts. One of them, stood behind Sophie, reached down and dragged her to her feet by the hair.

"I'll take her to the car now, Sable." He grunted.

"You always were a fucking idiot, Samuel." Caerys spat. "Unless you think that the kid's Jesus, it ain't her." Sable reached down, grasping her by the throat and lifting her easily from the floor to stare into her eyes for a moment before tossing her casually aside to slide across the gravel painfully on her bared arms. Gavin ducked back around the tree to stay out of sight.

"It isn't you, Witch," Sable's voice rumbled, and Gavin could tell from the tone that he was walking away, "the child isn't old enough — Mr Michaelson has already given him to me. It must be her." Leaning out from the trunk, Gavin laid his sword quietly on the grass where Caerys could see it, and pressed his fingers to his lips for quiet as he ghosted back into the tree-line to seek another position.

"You don't think the kid's hers?" Samuel asked. "He looks a bit like her."

"If it isn't her, who is it?" The man holding Christophe asked, with a shrug that ended in a low gurgle as Gavin's arrow punched through his throat.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Gavin stepped out of the trees, bow still in hand, arrow nocked and ready, trying not to favour his injured side. "I'm asking you all politely to leave, I hope you aren't going to accept?"

Samuel reached for a gun, right hand dipping below his left armpit, and found his wrist pinned to his chest as Gavin launched another arrow. Ducking and rolling took him away from the two shots fired in his direction by the fourth figure, and the return shot punched low into his abdomen. Gavin, though, was too slow to recover from the roll. Black ooze seeped out of his wound, staining his shirt and sapping his strength as he tried to stand, and he couldn't get the bow up quickly enough as Sable's brick-like fist crashed into his jaw, spinning him back down to the gravel.

He rolled with the blow, but still saw stars as he used the power to come back up to his feet back against a tree. He ducked the first hook, managed to deflect an uppercut with his forearm, but couldn't twist out of the way of the roundhouse kick that slammed into his dripping wound and curled him into a ball as he struck back into the trunk.

"You are dead." Sable growled, one of the big hands constricting around Gavin's throat.

"What, again?" he managed, struggling to breath.

"Samuel's shot was right through your chest, I watched it hit."

"Well, don't believe everything you see, first rule."

"Obviously." Sable snarled, gripping tighter, and Gavin's voice croaked out feebly.

"Second rule, don't watch what the wizard wants you to watch..." Gavin's foot lunged out, slamming into Sable's solar plexus and hunching him backward slightly.

"What?" Sable's look of confusion turned to one of disbelief as Gavin's sword jutted out of his chest, and the strength drained out of his arms, leaving Gavin to collapse back to the ground, unable to stand.

"Fucking, fucking, fucking... BASTARD!" Caerys screamed at the limp form slumping to the ground, striking out with the sword again and again until Christophe's moans dragged her away.

"Come on..." Gavin struggled to his feet, taking the sword from her limp fingers, tearing her blouse from her wrist and wrapping what was left of it round her shoulders. "We... we need to get back into the bunker." He half-walked, half-crawled to Sophie, slicing through the rough rope that bound her arms in place, and helping her from beneath the figure that had fallen on her "Get Christophe..."

Sutton, Surrey, November 27^th

"Can we stay here?" Sophie wondered, still sounding small and frightened as she gently cleaned Gavin's side.

"No choice." He pointed out, still breathing heavily. "We're in no shape to move." Despite his injury, Sophie knew it wasn't him he meant, and turned to where Caerys sat on the floor by the door, rocking herself slowly back and forth. "I'll go up tonight and move the cars, make it look like we left."

"What if this doesn't heal?" Sophie wondered, her eyes darting to Caerys every few seconds.

"It'll be good enough by then, it was today."

"And it got worse again, quickly..." she finally turned her attention to him, staring up at his pained expression. "I don't even know what it is. It's like nothing I've ever seen before..." She finished cleaning it and stepped back a little, shrugging. "I don't even know whether to cover it or not..."

"Let it breathe, it'll be easier to keep an eye on." She nodded, still uncertain.

"I need to check on Christophe." The boy had fled to his room as soon as they returned, and hadn't emerged since.

"Go on, I'll get some clothes for Caerys." She started to argue that he should sit still, but he just stared at her and she backed down, turning away towards her son. Not wanting to do anything to trigger Caerys into a further depression Gavin avoided her room, and instead grabbed one of his own polo shirts and a pair of trousers, bringing them out to her.

"Caerys?" he called, from a few feet away, walking gingerly around to stand in front of her. "Caerys, I've got some clothes for you."

"Right... clothes..." she muttered, not really focussing on him. Standing up, she shrugged the tattered remnants of her blouse from her shoulders and started to work on her jeans.

"Hang on..." his voice caught a little, and he thrust the clothes he had at her. "I'll... I'll leave you to it." She nodded, oblivious it seemed to his words, and he turned away hurriedly as she just carried on, moving into the gym.

Despite the pain from his side he released the weighted bag from it's securing rope against the wall and began to swing kicks into it, warming himself up for as good a workout as he thought he was going to be able to manage. Wincing with the movements, dismayed at the lack of power he could manage, and feeling dizzy after the first few.

"Gavin." He turned, surprised, to find Caerys stood naked in the doorway, still looking slightly bemused.

"You should get dressed." He pointed out, staring fixedly at her eyes, wondering whether it would be better or worse for him to turn away from her.

"Didn't you... I can't pay you back like Sophie can, she's a Doctor and all..."

"Caerys, you don't have to pay me back at all." He tried to explain. "Go and get dressed, girl."

"NO!" she snapped, snarling at him. "I'll do what I want. I'm free of it, now, I'm in charge."

"Yeah..." he drew it out, stalling for time, seeing Sophie moving behind her, "then... can I ask you to get dressed? Please? I'm feeling uncomfortable, right now."

"Just avoiding fucking life again?" she snapped.

"I don't want to fight you, Caerys." He tried to explain.

"That's what Sable used to say, you know." He flinched, turning away, and Sophie wrapped a robe around Caerys' shoulders and led her away. He was still leaning against the weighted bag when Sophie returned.

"Are you alright?" she asked, quietly, breaking him out of his reverie, and he turned away slightly to face away from her.

"It... it's still tight." He told her, patting his side. "I'm not overdoing anything, though."

"I didn't mean your side." She laid a hand on his shoulder to turn him round, and he shrugged it off. "Please, turn around."

"Sophie, not now."

"You're crying, aren't you?" He did turn, and she could see the tracks down his face. "She's confused, she's not really equating you with... that."

"It's not that." Sophie's face showed her disbelief. "Not just that, then... I never got to see Giselle... afterwards. By the time I saw her she'd been arranged neatly... laid out." He shrugged.

"He didn't touch her, you know. You got there before that."

"This time." He stared back, and she shivered. "No matter how quickly I get there it's always too late for someone..."

"It's never too late." Sophie whispered, patting his arm, gently. "Do your exercises, work it off... I'll be in the sitting room if you need someone to talk to."

Sutton, Surrey, November 27^th

What the fuck was I thinking? Caerys stared at the blank wall, focussing on the slight blemishes and imperfections in the paintwork, trying to lose herself in the little intricacies of nothing rather than remember the stupidity of the morning.

It wasn't that she even wanted Gavin. He was attractive enough, in his way; taut and lean, dark eyed and brooding. He could do with smiling a little more, lightening up an awful lot, but... she didn't feel anything for him. Why had she been offering herself like that to him? She couldn't understand it, still, and she'd been lain there for almost three hours now, going round in circles trying to figure it out. She jumped a little at the single, loud knock on the door.

"Who is it?" she asked, not turning away from the wall.

"Gavin." She froze, feeling her face heat as blood flushed through it, and pulled the covers a little higher.

"What do you want?"

"I... I just wanted to talk to you for a moment." She could imagine the tirade coming her way. He'd been shocked at the time, she'd seen that, surprised and amazed. By now he'd have thought it through, picked his speech; he wasn't exactly gentle in his manner normally, but with a head of steam up she didn't want to be in the way of it. On the other hand, she deserved it for being that stupid — she couldn't feel much worse, right now, but at least she didn't expect to get a beating this time. She'd spoken out of turn before, turned down the wrong person or given herself in the wrong way, in the wrong order... her father knew just how to cause pain and humiliation without leaving a mark.

"Just say what you have to say, Gavin." She half-whispered, bracing herself, knowing she'd endured worse before now.

"I'm... I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop him, Caerys. I'm sorry you had to do that... I won't let you down like that again."

She lay, stunned, for a minute and more, the words echoing round in her head, clashing with what was already there, mixing up and splitting again.

"Do what?" she whispered. "He... he didn't get to do anything, this time." Slumped into the pillows, she realised that was what had been preying on her mind. Nothing had happened, in reality, certainly nothing in comparison to some of the things she'd been through before, but she'd never been affected by it like that before.

Because it had never felt like that, before, at least not since the first few times. She'd always been in their power, their's to do with as they pleased, even in her own head she'd thought of herself as a possession. Until Paris.

Paris had always been the key, she'd seen it: Paris meant she was free. Paris meant her father would die, and she'd be her own person. So now, when Sable caught up to her, when she reverted so quickly... that was what sickened her, that's what she was running away from. She'd had enough of running already. Even this morning had been running — running to, rather than running from, but still running. Trying to make a statement of control, trying to pretend that the decisions were hers when they were just the fear speaking in a new way.

This was her life, now, and she wasn't going to let her father, or anyone else dictate how she lived it or panic her into knee-jerk reactions. Trembling, she pushed the sheet away, swinging her feet down to the floor, and taking a deep breath.

"No more." She muttered, to the receptive silence of the room. Dressing slowly, almost mechanically, she couldn't help shuddering with trepidation as she opened the door on the world. "No more."

"Caerys?" Sophie turned to look over her shoulder from the living room.

"Where's Gavin?" she whispered, her voice catching, and she tried again. "Where's Gavin?"

"He's still in there." She pointed to the gym door, getting to her feet. "Are you alright."

"I think so." She nodded, hesitantly. "I should... he came and apologised."

"I know." Sophie smiled, gently. "I heard him. I tried to explain that nothing happened."

"Something did happen." Caerys corrected her. "I just gave in, again. He had to come and fight because I didn't. Again."

"Caerys, you've..."

"I know what I've been through. And I've never really fought it, not like he does. He's not been through it, but he's sorry because he couldn't stop it — he can barely fucking walk, and he's sorry... and I just took it."

"No-one's blaming you."

"I am." Caerys looked up. "Not... I was a kid, then, but now. I'm not a kid any more."

"You shouldn't blame yours..." she started, and the door was snatched open, Gavin hanging from the handle by strength of will and one hand.

"Get this fucking thing out of me!" he growled, and pitched forward, one hand still clutching firmly at the wiggling end of some black worm hanging from the wound in his side.

"Merde!" Sophie breathed, freezing for a moment. "Get him to the chair, I'll get... I don't know."

"Fuck that." Caerys turned to the kitchen and returned a moment later with two of the long kitchen knives. The first one she skewered through the wriggling black tendril with a muttered "Let go." To Gavin, and the second sliced through his skin to drag it out.

"CAERYS!" Sophie almost screamed, seeing her clumsy strokes.

"The way he heals that's nothing!" she pointed out, driving the knife in further, opening up the wound as Gavin tensed on the floor, clenching his jaw against the scream he could feel building up. "Come on!" she growled, reaching in, and feeling something clamp onto her finger, suddenly freeing up the worm. Dragging it clear, she could see it was at least six inches long, and despite the two knives driven through it it was still wiggling, and she could feel it biting deeper into her finger.

"Some sort of leech?" she wondered, unable to pull it off. Staring down, she saw the end of her finger turning grey as it sucked at her blood, and pulled one of the knives out to lever the ring-shaped mouth off her. It fell to the floor, rolling slowly back and forth for a few seconds, then lay still.

"How is he?" she looked up, and Sophie shook herself away from the sight of the black worm to stare at him, grimacing as he pushed himself upright against the door.

"I'll... be... fine..." he promised, and slumped down the floor again, unconscious.

Sutton, Surrey, November 27^th

Gavin woke, slowly, staring up from the couch in the sitting area, staring at the familiar ceiling for a moment whilst someone fiddled at this side.