Date: Sat, 6 Apr 1996 16:34:12 -0500 From: Carrie Krumtum Subject: Knight Confessions (Part 1) Gentles all, It's that time again. Another story for you. All the usual disclaimers from me: I don't know how long it will be. We'll all know when I get to the end. Pardon for any spelling or formatting errors. I do use a spell checker, but, some things still slip through. As always, any and all comments are appreciated. And...consider the source. Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 1) by Carrie Krumtum c. 1996 No matter how long he worked in the mortal world he never would get really used to the idea of having to ask for days off. There had been a time, a long time, when he simply did as he pleased. Gone where he had wished, spent his nights however he had chosen. With whom he had chosen. Well, some of them anyway. He had always been plagued with the domineering nature of his creator. That had not changed. Now he was plagued with the need of his captain to assert his authority. Not that he could blame the captain. He did have a way of ignoring him when things needed to get done a CERTAIN way. HIS way. He sighed. If he were the captain, he would probably be miffed as well. More than miffed. Down right angry. Now he was pulling the infamous desk duty. Shuffle shuffle shuffle. Paper paper paper. Type type type. He was going to go crazy if he didn't get a day off soon. Three days had been plenty. He had learned his lesson. Never get caught disobeying a direct order. Even if it was necessary to save your partner from herself. Disobey. But don't get caught. Of course, that's not the lesson Reese was trying to make him learn. Joe Reese was a good cop. A good captain. Just a bit too controlling for his likes, but a good leader. He cared. Genuinely. For the cops on his watch, the victims, the integrity of the system. He respected the captain. That wasn't the issue. He had to disobey him sometimes, without the luxury of explaining the reasons. So. Desk duty. He sighed again. Paper, type, shuffle. "Knight!" Reese was standing at the door to his office. "See you a minute?" Glad for the interruption, Nick looked up at the captain. "Sure cap." He followed Reese into his office and waited for him to sit down at his desk. Reese looked up at his detective. He smiled internally, making sure to keep a neutral mask in place. Knight probably had the finest investigative mind in the department. He was smart, very smart. Capable. But he was head strong and far too independent. Well, you take the bad with the good, he thought. Knight was a good detective. He just needed a little reminding, now and then, who the boss was. "Have a seat detective." Nick sat down. The captain's tone revealed little to him. He hoped his desk duty was about to end. Whatever Reese wanted, Nick was sure he was going to have to listen to the 'I want you to remember who is in charge' speech before he found out. "Look, Nick," Reese began. He noted Knight's expectation of and resignation to the speech he thought he was about to be given. Knight was about to be surprised. "I know what you're thinking. I'm not going to lecture you." He smiled at the look of surprise that flashed across his detective's face. And along with the surprise he thought he read a little bit of relief. "But I am going to remind you. I have reasons for the decisions I make Nick. Good ones." He paused for a reaction. Nick knew the captain was right. In his mind, Reese would have thought through things as any mortal would. Being a vampire gave Nick more options than any mortal. It also limited the amount of honesty he could have with mortals as well. "I know that, cap." It was all he could say. It was the truth. Reese had expected more. He shrugged. He wasn't going to get more. Knight had done what he had thought he needed to. Reese trusted Knight to do what he thought was right. That was the crux of it. Knight would do what he thought was right. And Knight was a good cop. Independence aside. He was the most decorated cop in the precinct. Had one of the best records in the department. Hell, he was even trusted with the life of the Commissioner's daughter. Knight was a high profile cop. But he wasn't trying to be. If anything, Knight would rather be low profile. That incongruity is what made Reese sense he could trust him. It was the very thing about him that made him so hard to figure sometimes. Knight was a complex guy. Isn't that what Joe Stonetree had told him? Knight was complex. Get used to it. "Glad to know that you do." Reese shifted a little in his chair and reached for a folder on his desk. He handed it to Nick. "I want you to take tonight off and review this file. There's an assignment I want you to consider taking." Nick took the file from the captain. "Consider?" "Yeah. I can't order you to do this Nick. I think you should be able to refuse it if you want." He held up his hand at the questioning response he saw forming on the detective's face. "Just read the file and think about it. I'll talk to you day after tomorrow. Now go home and get some rest. Desk duty's over." Nick brightened. He looked from his captain to the folder in his hand and back again. "Okay cap. Thanks." He rose to leave and then paused. He looked back at the captain. "Cap?" "Yeah?" "I'm sorry about disobeying your order. I just thought I was doing the right thing." "I know. That's why you got three days instead of three weeks." Reese grinned. "Now get out of here. I've got work I still have to do." Nick smiled back at the captain. He had to admit. He liked Joe Reese. He really did. "Is this a real invitation?" Natalie was being sarcastic. She tried to keep the edge off of it. It had been weeks since he had asked her to do anything with him. It had been a weird past few months, even for them. Though, she doubted there was a weirder relationship on the face of the planet. He winced slightly at the tone in her voice. He was glad he had called. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the look on her face right now. He knew it had been a while since he had asked her out. She had every right to be incredulous. "Yes, it's a real invitation. I just thought we both could use a night out. So...?" She had to smile. "All right. You've got yourself a date." Sarcasm gone, she suddenly felt happier than she did before he called. "Great. I'll pick you up a eight." He relaxed as he heard the cheerfulness return to her voice. "Eight it is." She hung up. She laughed as she suddenly realized that she felt anxious. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 2) by Carrie Krumtum She looked stunning. He knew he was staring. He couldn't help himself. "Nick. Stop it. You're embarrassing me." She smiled shyly. It felt good to be stared at. But he had been doing it for an uncomfortable amount of time. They had been at the restaurant for a half and hour and he still was staring. And that roguish smile. It just made it worse. He laughed. "Stop what?" "You're staring." She was blushing now. "I like the view." His smile broadened. He was enjoying their evening. He was enjoying her embarrassment. He was enjoying just being with her. She flushed completely. He was hopeless. It was true that she wanted him to notice her, but, she hadn't expected this kind of response. It was kind of nice. But, it was embarrassing the hell out of her. "Stop it! Eat." She pointed to his untouched plate. It was obvious that she was going to have to change the object of his attention. Looking down at his plate reluctantly, he took a deep breath. Steak tartar. Raw hamburger. It was about the only thing he could eat in public without choking. That and French fries, with lots of ketchup. Natalie had ordered halibut. She loved seafood. He picked up his fork and took a preliminary stab at his food. It wasn't going to go away. He would have to eat something. Just a few bites wouldn't kill him. He was pretty sure it wouldn't anyway. He took a bite and chewed, then swallowed. "Good boy." She was laughing. He always made such a production out of eating. It never failed to make her laugh. "You see? Food is your friend." He took a drink of his wine to wash down the steak. He liked to hear her laugh. She hadn't done much laughing lately. Neither of them had. If he took this assignment, he wouldn't have much opportunity to hear that laugh much over the next few weeks. He really didn't want to think about that right now. There was plenty of time later in the evening to talk about it. Now, he just wanted to be with her. To hear her laugh. They finished dinner and went to the theater. He loved the theater. He always had. She was raised in the era of the small screen. It had been one of his great pleasures to expose her to live performances. He even felt as if she were enjoying them as much as he. Tonight he had gotten tickets to see A Midsummer Night's Dream. One of his favorites. He watched her watch the production with open delight on her face. "I liked it. But it was sad." She had cried at the end. He knew that she would. He held her hand as they walked along the path at the water's edge. The warmth of her hand in his stirred his heart. She stirred his heart. "I know. Life is sad sometimes." His voice sounded pensive. Whatever he was concerned about, she was sure he was going to tell her soon. He had been trying to hide it from her, unsuccessfully, all evening. "So, are you going to tell me about it?" She looked at his face. He tried to reign in the look of surprise that he felt wash across his face. How many times had he underestimated her? He was going to have to stop doing that. He smiled at her. "How long have you known?" She smiled back. "Since you picked me up. You know, Nick, you're not all that hard to read. Not for me." He interlaced his fingers with hers in their grasp. "I'm glad." He was. Nat had a way of keeping him honest. With himself, with her, with life. He needed her. He stopped at a park bench and turned to face her. "Nat." His voice was quiet. She felt the emotion he was radiating. The feelings they shared for each other boiling just beneath the surface now. She was a little frightened. She waited for him. "I need to talk to you. Sit down?" He motioned toward the bench. His voice was still quiet. She sat down and he sat next to her. He never relinquished the hold he had on her hand. He took a deep breath before he began. "The captain has asked me to take an assignment undercover. If I take it I won't be able to see you for a while. Possibly several weeks." He watched her face carefully. He noted what he had expected to see. Concern. "What kind of assignment?" Her voice was even. She was thankful. Undercover meant danger. It always did. Nick could take care of himself. She knew that. She was concerned anyway. "Prison." "He wants you to take an assignment at a prison?" "Not at. In." The look of concern on her face was promptly replaced with one of fear. "In prison? Undercover? Like a prisoner?" He looked down at the hand he held. It was griping his hard enough to have made it hurt if he had been human. "Yes." "Nick, you can't..." This was really dangerous. He had to be so careful as it was. In prison, every move he made would be scrutinized. Something a vampire couldn't afford. How was he going to feed? He could take small amounts of food, but, he still needed blood to keep from starving. She knew that. How was he going to explain his allergy to the sun? What would they do with the night/day schedule he had to keep? Prisons weren't exactly flexible places. "Nat. Listen to me." He placed his other hand on top of the one of hers that he held. "I know there are dangers. The captain gave me the option to decline the assignment. I may not even take it." By the tone of his voice she knew that he had already decided. "You're going to do it. Nick. This is really dangerous." "I know. I have to do this, Nat. The reason he asked me to do it makes sense." He had tried to plan how he would explain it all to her. It wasn't going like he had planned. With Nat, it generally never did. "What reasons?" She looked at him expectantly. This had better be good... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 3) by Carrie Krumtum It was quiet as they drove back to her apartment. She had listened to him explain his reasons for accepting the assignment. It did make sense. If you were suicidal. It frightened her. The thought of him in that prison. In harms way. Yes, he was a vampire. He was very capable of taking care of himself. That didn't make her feel any better. Not at all. She wanted to shout at him. To slap him. To hug him to her and never let him go. To cry. You would think I was seeing him off to war, she thought. I guess I kind of am. He was going to war against internal corruption. A challenge someone like Nick just couldn't pass up. He had explained it all. The prisoners who were turning up dead. The long history of guards and warden. The allegations of sexual abuse among the prisoners. And the last death. It had been the deciding factor. A young prisoner. 22. Died of massive rectal bleeding. He had been raped and beaten. The report stated that he had been repeatedly assaulted over a period of two days, raped orally and anally perhaps more than sixty times. The damage to his body was ignored by the prison staff and he was allowed to bleed to death, alone, in solitary confinement. He was the one assaulted and they placed him in solitary. He was a 'trouble maker'. He had dared to tell his attorney that he was being threatened with sexual assault. He was convicted of auto theft, doing three years in prison. Young, handsome, weak. She had done autopsies on men who had been raped while incarcerated. The damage that was done to their bodies was enormous. More than she would have thought possible. Sometimes requiring surgery to repair. She could just picture the body of that young man. Closing her eyes she tried to shut the image out. She knew that Nick wouldn't be able to just let this assignment pass by. This was something he understood. Vulnerability taken as weakness, then being dominated, twisted, by men without conscience. Abuse. Fear. Isolation. He knew these things intimately. He also understood the importance of someone caring. Caring about these men. Forgotten men. Castaways from their civilized society. The problem had gotten this bad because so few people did care. It was easy to apathetic. The abuse wasn't seen by the population of the country. The abused had been abusers of the public and were paying for their crimes. No second chances. Easy prey. Nick had very strong feelings about that as well. He had taken enough lives, caused enough death to never, ever want to see another life cast away again. If he was ever to regain his mortality, to find some kind of redemption himself, he could not refuse that redemption to anyone else who might be trying to find it. Not if he had it in his power to help them. To make a difference. Oh, she understood his reasons all right. But she didn't like this. Not at all. Reese had asked Nick because he had no family. No wife or kids. He was new to the department and to Toronto. Nick had been there only five years. The prison population did not contain anyone that had been in contact with Nick during an investigation or prosecution. He was pale and handsome. He gave the impression of weakness while possessing innate personal strength. Both physically and mentally. He was a good choice. Perfect in fact. From a law enforcement point of view anyway. She sighed. It really did make sense. Damn. They were parked in front of his loft. She thought they were going back to her apartment. She was so deep in thought she hadn't even noticed that they had changed destinations. "Nat?" Nick voice was soft. "I thought you were taking me home?" She looked at him questioningly. "I just thought you might need to, or, want to...talk...or something." He didn't know exactly what to say. All he knew for sure was that she was scared. He wanted to help her to understand that this was something he felt he had to do. That he would be all right. And that he needed her. "And," he looked into her eyes, "I just didn't want to leave you yet." The pleading in his eyes told her that he felt exactly like she did. They were going to be apart all to soon. He didn't want to leave her anymore than she wanted him to leave. Not for a day much less a few weeks. They sat in front of the fire. He was holding her. Smelling her. Listening to every sound her body made. Reveling in her closeness. Her warmth. It might be a long time before they could spend time like this together again. It would be dawn in a few hours. The night had been spent talking, listening, sharing, and then finally, in silence. He let his emotions for her swell within him. He spent his time thinking about how he felt. About everything he wished he could tell her. What he knew she needed to hear. "Nat?" She lifted her head from his shoulder to look him in the face. "Hum?" "I need you, Nat. I need you in my life. The only thing I regret about this assignment is being away from you." His voice was quiet but earnest. The tenderness in his face made her heart ache for him. She needed him as well. Tears welled up, unbidden, in her eyes. He touched her face. Caressed her soft skin. Brushed away the first tear with his thumb. She thrilled to his touch. He felt her tremble at his touch. The feelings they shared rose between them, without words, without sound. Love. Hope. Desire. He kissed her. Gently, tenderly, with rising passion. He took her fully in his arms and embraced her as he let his passion rise in their kiss. He felt the rise of the vampire as well. The passion igniting the bloodlust. He kept it in tight control for a few moments, but felt it strain to be free. To taste her blood. To feel her life. He broke away from their kiss and pulled her to him. He held to her, feeling her heart beat within her breast as he held her next to him. The embrace was all they could have now. She knew that. Her need for him was so strong though. He would never hurt her. He couldn't. Not even when possessed. Crazed by an evil she could never understand. Even then, he couldn't harm her. He loved her. Nick loved her. She knew that. And it made her cry. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 4) by Carrie Krumtum The look of concentration on her face only confirmed his feelings of her. Natalie Lambert was an extraordinary woman. Smart, capable and in love with his detective. He had allowed her to be present during the briefing because both she and Knight had insisted. Knight loved this woman. It didn't take a detective to figure that one out. He would have told her he was going to take the undercover assignment and be away for some weeks. No one knew how long for sure. And prison was not going to be a picnic. They both needed to know, honestly, what he was up against in there. Reese could see that she was taking in all the details, calculating risks, weighing dangers to him, thinking of ways to provide support for him. She was extraordinary. "The problem is that the Service cannot, by policy, remove the warden without evidence of misconduct that is proven to be sanctioned by him. The death of Billy Talvert in solitary confinement can be associated with a few prison staffers. Two guards and a prison nurse. They have been suspended pending investigation. The warden knows we will be investigating the institution. He will have everything in order. The only way to find out how deep this thing goes is to have irrefutable evidence. From a prisoner. That's where Detective Knight comes in." Natalie listened to Fred Robertson. He was with the Solicitor General's office. His new responsibility was the investigation of allegations of misconduct of members of the Correctional Service toward inmates. The death of young men in prison as a result of sexual assault was his first challenge. "None of the current inmates will testify?" Fred Robertson looked at Dr. Lambert. She was here against his wishes. He didn't want anyone not directly involved in the investigation to aware of the undercover aspect. It posed significant danger to the officer on the inside. Prisoners tend to view cops on the inside as shark bait. A cop on the inside would be killed, in a hurry, if they were discovered. Not that Dr. Lambert would purposefully risk Detective Knight's identity. She was naive. Just about everyone was. Prison is a different universe. Most of the general public just didn't want to know what went on in prison. It was much easier to send people away when they remained cold, arcane institutions. With patience, Fred explained, "No, Dr. Lambert, they won't. There is an unwritten code in prison. Snitches die. Badly. No inmate will testify. The death of Billy Talvert was a warning to all inmates. Tell anyone and you die." "So you want Knight to find out how much the warden knows about the gang rapes? How is he going to find that out? As a prisoner he will be with the general population, not in the warden's office." Reese didn't like the odds of Nick finding out anything in there. Knight was resourceful, yeah, but that was damn near impossible. "The Correctional Service Intake Officer at the prison will be given a complete list of Detective Knight's skills. It is part of the system to place inmates to work in areas that benefit the institution. Free labor. Saves the taxpayers. Anyway, Detective Knight is computer literate. Unusual in the prison population. They will most certainly place him in a clerical position in the administration offices." That concerned Natalie. "Wait a minute. What about Nick's allergy to the sun. Aren't those offices only open during the day? How will they protect him from the sunlight?" Fred had already thought about that. "The offices in this prison are located in the basement of the main building. There are no windows except in the warden's own office. He can spend his entire time in the prison without ever going outside. All the buildings are connected by an underground tunnel system. Transport is generally more secure from one area of the prison to another that way. We will have Detective Knight arriving in the early morning hours. This is not uncommon when inmates are brought from distant destinations after transfers or extradition's. He will be processed and in a cell long before sun up." "What exactly does processed mean?" Natalie had a vague idea. She had seen movies about prison. Strip searches and delousing procedures were always depicted as cold and dehumanizing. She hugged herself at the thought of Nick having to go through all that. "He will be treated exactly like any other prisoner arriving at the institution. I'm sure Detective Knight is well aware of the procedures." Fred looked at Knight and knew that he was. Nick placed his hand on Nat's arm. "Nat, I'll be all right. I can't receive any special treatment other than prevention from contact with the sunlight. They would know I was undercover. That would defeat the point of sending me in there. It's okay. I know what I'm up against." She looked at him. Of course he did. She didn't. She wasn't sure that she wanted to know about everything either. It was hard enough as it was just thinking about him in a prison. But to be put through the whole demoralizing process. Nick had a hard enough time thinking of himself in human terms now. What would being in prison do to his self image? It frightened her. A weak smile was all she could manage. "I know." Her voice was filled with her fear. "One last thing Detective." Fred Robertson looked at both of them. He wanted to make this point perfectly clear. "You will be able to receive mail, but no visitors. It is just too risky. And the mail will be censored. Prison mail always is. I will leave guidelines for writing letters with you both. If you aren't sure you can write each other without breaking your cover, I wouldn't. We asked for a single officer for this assignment to prevent this very thing. No strings at home to be followed and endanger the officer." He fixed Natalie with a stare. "I think it's important for you to understand Dr. Lambert. I appreciate your feelings for Detective Knight. But, he must remain undercover until he is sure, one way or the other, about the wardens involvement in all of this. We will have nearly daily contact with him by way of his attorney. An attorney from our office. You must not jeopardize this operation. His life might be in the balance." Natalie looked back at Robertson. She understood. She was really scared about this whole thing, but she understood. "I understand." Fred took some files out of his briefcase and handed them to Detective Knight. Closing the briefcase and rising from his chair he moved to leave. "Good. I don't want to sound cold Dr. Lambert. But, this is an important investigation. Men's lives are at risk. The Solicitor General is personally concerned about this whole issue. Detective Knight is doing our office a great service." He reached the door and turned back to address Nick. "We will be picking you up here at two a.m. tomorrow morning Detective. Those files contain all the information on your arrest and conviction record. Please review them carefully. Until tomorrow." He glanced at each of them and then left. Captain Reese looked at his detective. "Nick, are you sure you want to do this?" Nick still had his hand on Natalie's arm. He glanced at the captain and then returned his attention to Nat. "Yes I am, cap." "Okay," Reese sure hoped he was doing the right thing by letting Nick take this assignment. It was more dangerous that he liked. And by the looks on Natalie's face, it was far more dangerous that she liked as well. "But, Nick?" He waited until Nick looked back at him. "Be careful. I don't want to lose my best detective to the Correctional Service." He tried to smile. He failed. "I will captain. Don't worry." Nick did smile. "I'll be doing enough of that for everybody." Natalie's voice was filled with her concern. Both men looked at her with open appreciation for her feelings. She would be worried. They all would be. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 5) by Carrie Krumtum The darkness of an abandoned church had a feeling that was unique. The fact that this particular church now was the home of a vampire redefined irony. Nick could tell that the person he was looking for was there. Sensing him, Nick entered the back room that doubled as living quarters. Vachon was sitting with his guitar, playing a very lovely Spanish piece. He was very talented Nick noted. The music was beautiful. Vachon came to the end of the piece he was playing and looked up at his visitor. "I don't make a habit of attending the policemen's ball. I'm sorry, but I think you'll have to sell your ticket's to someone else." Nick smiled. Vachon had an arrogant air about him that was roguish and annoying. But the ladies loved it. He couldn't be angry with him. Vachon was Vachon. He was proving to be more responsible than he suspected even Vachon had thought was possible for him. He had protected Tracy from discovery by the Enforcers up to now. For that and that alone Nick was in his debt. "We don't do balls anymore. Now we do benefits." "Ah. So," Vachon set down his guitar and crossed his arms, "to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" "I need a favor." Nick made sure to keep his tone even. Vachon was under no obligation to him in anyway. Vachon studied Knight. Knight had been a hard one for him to figure. He was a powerful vampire. Powerful yes, but as different as they come. He was a vampire who didn't want to be a vampire anymore. A kind of running joke in the community. A joke that no one was very willing to talk about. Knight represented everything that a vampire feared. Doubt in their nature, surety of their damnation, reverence for humanity, regret for their behavior. He would be considered a danger to the community if he was anyone else. But he wasn't anyone else. He was Knight. Created by LaCroix, an ancient that was respected and feared. Knight, the man who walked in both worlds. He had earned the respect of members of the community for his refusal to harm the community. He protected others of their kind even though he no longer wished to be a part of their world. He also had a reverence for life. All life. It was hard to understand, but it was the defining aspect of his character. His was a life that was as close to 'goodness' as a vampire could get. Beyond that, there was the power that he radiated. Strength, courage. Others feared him because of it. Vachon had seen him angry. He was very glad he was not Knight's enemy. Not that he was Knight's friend, still, he had a grudging respect for him. And, Knight had saved his life. Brought the anecdote to him. He would have died that night. He owed him. "What can I do for you?" Nick sat down on the crate that opposed the chair Vachon occupied. "I have to go out of town for a while. I would appreciate it if you kept an eye on Tracy." He continued to smile. "Tracy's a cop. She can handle herself." "Against the average criminal element, yes. But we both know her universe doesn't just contain the average element, don't we." The smile slowly vanished from Knight's face. He was serious. Responsibility. Knight's by-word. Knight held him responsible for Tracy's knowledge of the vampire community. He always would. Vachon sighed. "All right. I'll keep an eye on her. Where are you flying off to?" Nick stood. He judged that Vachon would keep his word. "I going out of town on an assignment for the department. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Several weeks probably. I just wanted to make sure Tracy would be in one HUMAN piece when I got back." "You haven't had great luck with partners have you?" The minute he said it he regretted it. The look on Knight's face told him that that was a subject of particular soreness with him. Knight emitted a low growl. Standing, Vachon raised his hands, "Sorry. I was only joking. I'm sorry. It was in poor taste. Okay?" Nick shook his head and tried to calm down. He still hurt over the loss of Schanke and Cohen. It would be a long time before those particular wounds healed. The last thing he needed was Vachon's flippant attitude rubbing salt into the wounds. Still, he probably meant nothing by it. Vampire humor. "Okay. Just don't let anything happen to Tracy. SHE is my partner now." Vachon nodded his head in understanding. If Knight had wanted to motivate him, he had done so. The more he thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. It could be worse. Tracy wasn't such a bad figure to have to keep an eye on... Tears. She hated the fact that she could not control the tears. "Nat, this is a chance to see if you are right. If it is the blood, well, now I will have to be without it for a while." Nick was trying to asway her fears. He meant what he said though. He had thought about this aspect of the assignment. Nat had always insisted that it was the ingestion of blood that kept him from coming back across. He knew he could digest foods and supply the energy to his body that he needed. The protein shakes had proven that. His need for the blood was rooted in the bloodlust. The psychological or metaphysical aspect of his vampirism. Prison would make him go cold turkey on the blood. He had tried by himself, with a twelve step program, with Nat's encouragement. He just had not been able to give it up. "Maybe this is just what I needed Nat. You know I've tried. Now I have no choice. If it can be done, we'll find out." She was turned away from him. She didn't want him to look at her as she cried. He didn't need to see her weakness. He needed her strength. Her belief in him. Her apartment felt cold to her all of a sudden. Taking her into his arms from behind, he turned her to face him. It was hard on her. Hell, it was hard on him. He looked at her with all the tenderness he could. Brushing away her tears he kissed her forehead and embraced her. She leaned into him. Closing his eyes he stroked her hair and then just held her. She clung to him. She let herself be held. Surrounded by the strength of his arms. She cried until she had no more tears to cry then she slowly pulled away. "Nick? I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing you." Her voice sounded small, almost lost. She swallowed hard. There was nothing but compassion and caring in his face. "You won't. Nothing could keep me from you, Nat. Nothing." He kissed her then. With all the love he felt, he kissed her. Tracy Vetter and Joe Reese watched as Nick was greeted by Fred Robertson. Robertson would escort him to the prison transport bus. He was being transferred to the prison as an extradited prisoner from the US who was supposedly convicted in absentia for murder. Natalie wasn't there. Nick had said his good-bye's to her earlier. "Are you ready Detective?" Fred Robertson asked. "As ready as I'll ever be." He turned to Tracy and the captain. "Try not to give the cap too much trouble. And, if you could get all my extra paperwork done while I'm gone I'd appreciate it." He smiled at his partner. "Nick..." Tracy wasn't smiling. "Hey, let's not get too melodramatic here. I'll only be gone a couple of weeks. Just think of it as a vacation. Okay?" Tracy did smile at that. Nick was the first partner she had ever had that treated her like she had a brain in her head. He respected her. She just couldn't shake the bad feeling she had about this assignment. She wasn't briefed. All she knew was that he was doing a job for the Solicitor General's office. She just didn't like being out of the information loop. "Okay. And Nick, whatever you're doing, be careful." She hugged him briefly. Reese shook Nick's hand. "That goes for all of us Nick. Be careful and come back as quick as you can. We'll miss you around here." Nick gave his captain an easy smile. "I will cap." With that, he followed Richardson out of the precinct and into federal custody. A prisoner of the province of Ontario. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 6) by Carrie Krumtum The bus contained a driver, two guards and one prisoner as it pulled into the yard of the prison grounds. Flood lights created artificial day in the yard. Awaiting the bus were four more guards and a prison nurse. The prisoner would be processed and then escorted to his cell. It was four forty in the morning. "Stand." The prisoner stood. "Off the bus." The prisoner stepped off the bus, shackled hands and feet. "Stop." The prisoner stopped in his tracks. "Approach the yellow line." The prisoner located the yellow line painted on the asphalt and walked towards it. "Stop." The prisoner stopped just short of the yellow line. A guard approached the prisoner and looked him up and down. "You are no longer anybody. Here, you are prisoner 578236. Your name is unimportant. Do you understand, prisoner 578236?" "Yes." The prisoner responded. "Good. You will be processed, prisoner 578236. You will be taken to a five by eight foot cell, prisoner 578236. You will be locked into that cell, prisoner 578236. You will do each and every thing you are instructed to do by any staff member of this institution, prisoner 578236. Do you understand, prisoner 578236?" "Yes." The prisoner responded. "What is your name?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded. The prisoner was hit in the face. "You are not paying attention, prisoner 578236. Your name is unimportant. Here, you are prisoner 578236. Now, prisoner 578236, what is your name?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded. The prisoner was punched in the stomach. "You no longer have that name, prisoner 578236. Your are no one anymore. Here, you are prisoner 578236. Once more, prisoner 578236, what is your name?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded. The prisoner was hit in the face again, this time with sufficient force to knock him to his knees. "YOU ARE PRISONER 578236. YOU ARE NOT A PERSON HERE. YOU ARE A PRISONER. PRISONER 578236. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" "Nick Knight." The prisoner responded from his knees. The prisoner was hit in the back and fell onto his side doubled over in apparent pain. The prisoner moaned. "That's enough." A voice from behind the line of guards stated. The prisoner could not see the face of the person who made the remark. "Process him." "Stand." The prisoner stood, slowly. The shackles made the effort much more complicated. He was having a hard time getting his balance. No one helped the prisoner. "Follow this guard." The prisoner followed the guard that was indicated. The guard entered a door that lead into the processing center. "Stop." The prisoner stopped. Two of the guards that had followed the prisoner into the processing center removed the shackles the bond the prisoner. "Take off your clothes." The prisoner began to remove his clothes. He removed everything but his underware. "Take off you clothes." The prisoner removed his underware. He stood nude in the processing center. "Step up to the wall." The prisoner stepped up to the wall indicated by the guard. "Turn around." The prisoner turned around. Before he could completely face the guard a hose was turned on and his was hit in the face with cold water. He staggered slightly but managed to remain standing. The water was run up and down the front of his body. "Turn around." The prisoner turned around. The water was run up and down the back of his body. The hose was shut off and from above him a fine spray of fluid was turned on. The fluid, smelling chemically strong was allowed to shower him for a full minute. The hose was once again turned on him and the water was run up and down the back of his body. "Turn around." The prisoner turned around. The water was run up and down the front of his body. The water was then turned off. "Open your mouth." The prisoner opened his mouth. The nurse stepped up and using a tongue depressor inspected his mouth. "Close your mouth." The prisoner closed his mouth. The nurse then looked into his eyes, up his nose, in both of his ears and pulling his head down, through his hair. "Turn around. Bend over and grab your ankles." The prisoner turned around, bent over and grabbed his ankles. The nurse then inspected his genitals and did a digital exam of his rectum. "Stand. Turn around." The prisoner stood and turned around. The prisoner was given a towel. "Dry off." The prisoner used the towel to dry his body. The towel was taken away from him. "Follow the guard." The prisoner followed the guard through a door into a room that contained a stack of linen and clothing on the floor. "Dress." The prisoner dressed himself in the clothing that was stacked on the floor. He was given back his own shoes and he put them on. "Pick up the stack." The prisoner picked up the stack of linens provided for him. "Follow the guard." The prisoner followed the guard through a door into another room that contained a white wall with height demarkations, a counter and two more guards. "Stand on the yellow line." The prisoner found the yellow line and stood on it. The guards recited a list of the prisoners clothing items they had removed from him when he undressed. "Sign here." The prisoner shifting the burden of the linens to one arm, signed the paper that was placed in front of him, and then shifted the burden back into both hands. "Follow the guard." The prisoner followed the guard through a sliding door. He noted the electronic mechanism release and then reengage as the door slid shut behind him. He followed the guard down a long corridor, through several more sliding doors until he came to a stop before a barred door. This door slid open and he entered the cell block. The prisoner followed the guard up two flights of stairs to a row of cells, they turned left. The prisoner followed the guard to the seventh cell. "Stop." The prisoner stopped. The other cell block inmates began to shout at the prisoner. He was made to stand there for several minutes. Among the things he heard shouted at him were terms he remembered reading in the report given him to prepare for his incarceration. "No man." "Punk." "Catcher." "Sweet boy." The prisoner stood still while he listened. "Into the cell." The prisoner entered the cell. The door to the cell was slid home with a loud crash and he heard the locking mechanism secure the cell door closed. The guards left the prisoner alone then. His cell was five foot by eight foot with a sink, a toilet, a bunk, a mattress and no window. The prisoner unfolded the mattress on the bunk and made the bed with the linens he had carried into the cell. He laid down on the bunk and placed his arm over his eyes. "I miss you, Nat," he whispered. Prisoner 578236 lay awake thinking about her. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 7) by Carrie Krumtum Natalie couldn't sleep. For the sixth time in half an hour she checked the clock by her bed. It was five minutes past the last time she checked. Four forty am. He was probably at the prison by now. Being treated like a criminal. Be processed, whatever that meant. She sighed. A letter. She decided to write him a letter. The guidelines Fred Richardson had given now lay on her desk. She sat down at her desk to review the guidelines again... Damn. Four forty in the morning. He hadn't been able to accomplish a damn thing for the past two hours. He stacked all of the unfinished projects on the corner of his desk. Joe Reese decided he was going to go home to his wife. He wasn't doing a bit of good at the precinct. He couldn't concentrate. All he seemed to be able to think about was his detective in a prison cell. The danger that situation posed for him. Knight had taken the assignment just like Reese knew he would. Knight knew the risks. So why did HE feel so damned guilty? Her tea was cold. It was the second cup of tea she had made without drinking. She just couldn't shake this feeling she had. She felt like she should be able to help her partner somehow. Like he needed her help. Tracy didn't like the feelings she was having. Not one bit. Sighing, she decided to go make herself another cup of tea. Maybe, on the way home this morning she would stop at a certain old church and say a prayer for him. It was four forty am. A little over two hours to go in her shift. She poured out the cold tea from her cup, filled her cup from the water cooler and headed for the microwave... "I get the feeling that you are lonely tonight. That you are missing someone. Someone close to you. I know how that feels. I miss someone as well. I miss you, when you are not here with me. Would you miss me if I were not here with you? The Nightcrawler hopes so. "So here's to loved ones parted from us. Let us all be lonely together." He keyed up the music and turned off the microphone. Sitting back in his chair he stared out at the nearly disserted club. The last few stragglers of the nights festivities remaining, not willing to go home to empty homes or empty lives. It was four forty am. Dawn was two hours away. Nicholas would be hard at work still. Whatever he was doing, it was causing him to feel lonely, isolated. LaCroix sensed it. Tiny listened to the jeers that were shouted at the new prisoner. He watched him carefully. From the bunk in his cell he had a clear view of him. He was good looking. A curse for a new inmate. The ugly ones always did better in the beginning. There would be fighting over this one. He tried to gauge his strength. He shook his head. It was going to be a rough few days for him. If he was as weak as he appeared, he might not make it at all. The last young, good looking one they brought in here only lasted seventeen days. Griffin shouted at his new prospect. He was a looker. He was slender. About six feet tall. Blond. He would make a nice catcher if he lived through the mill. Billy had been too weak to survive the mill. This one looked pale. Too pale. Well, at least he'd have one shot at pitchin' him. "Sssweeeet booyyy," he shouted. The shouting lasted almost half an hour. Rank always hated the welcome calls. The joint was hard enough to get through. If you were unfortunate enough to get noticed it was especially tough. This poor guy had everything going wrong for him. He arrived alone, he was good looking and he appeared pale and weak. Rank gave him a month. Hell, he had given the last one a month. That last one cost him twenty five cigarettes. He hated to lose a bet. Maybe he would give this guy only three weeks. He looked like he might just barely run longer than the last one did. Jojo tried to decide what he would wager on the new boy. Rank had lost their last bet. He decided to bet the same as before. Only he gave this one a shorter run. Maybe two weeks. By the sounds Griff and his hounds were making, this guy wasn't getting any honeymoon time. He was going through the mill soon. Real soon. "Hey, no man. Are you a punk? No man! Punk. I got a pitch for ya." Hully whispered from the edge of his cell. They locked the new guy in next to him. He was a pale son of a bitch. Pretty, too. Griff would want him. Shit, Griff wanted all of 'em. Well, when they put him through the mill, he'd get his turn. Hully alway got his turn. Damn shame, Chap thought. He had been praying for the new guy. When he saw him, he felt sorry for him. It was going to be another battle for a newby. The handsome ones had to fight so hard to get by. If he had just been older or black. White guys were premium stock. Chap had pretty much been left alone from his arrival. He thanked God for that. Being a forty-eight year old black man didn't hurt either. He hadn't known the Lord in his youth. He prayed that this new guy did. He was going to need the Lord's strength if he was going to survive. Chap decided to pray some more. Prisoner 578236 listened to the welcome calls. The sounds surrounded him like a fog. The heartbeats of the occupants of the cell block pounded at him. All those hearts beating, but none of them the one he wished he could hear right now. None of them belonged to her. None of them did... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 8) by Carrie Krumtum The loud snapping sound of his cell door lock being released broke into his revere. The door slid back and added to the clanging being generated by all the cell doors in the cell block opening. He stood up and looked out of his cell door as the light above his head come on. "Turn out!" All the prisoners in the cell block exited their cells to stand on the yellow line painted on the concrete walks that ran in front of each row of cells on all three tiers of the cell block. Nick did the same. The guards waited until the hubbub of noise settled to silence as a new day began. In the silence, all eyes were on the new boy in the block. Aware of the scrutiny, Nick kept a blank expression and concentrated on listening to the guards. He had listened to the welcome calls. His behavior in the next few days would socialize him into the prison population. He was well aware of the expectations others had of him. They would be surprised. "Fall out!" The prisoners on his tier turned to their right and he followed suit. As the single file column moved toward the stairs they all kept equidistant from one another. "Keep the nickel, punk." Hully whispered to him from behind. "Don't need no punk sending me to the hole." The nickel? Nick estimated that there was about five feet between each prisoner in the moving column. The nickel. He kept the distance. The column moved out of the cell block and into the dining hall. As he passed tables, now occupied with prisoners from other cell blocks, he was scrutinized anew. His listened to the kissing sounds and 'catcher' remarks without expression. The attempt of the guards to dehumanize him at his arrival seemed pretty tame to his welcome by the other inmates. The whole thing was like a sick dream. Picking up tray, utensils and cup, he moved through the food line allowing items to be deposited on his tray. The smell of the food was nauseating. Of the fair, he was sure of only three items, powdered eggs, toast and coffee. The remaining items on his tray may have been a potato mixture or some kind of gruel and a meat patty that consisted of pork by products. Although his heightened sense of smell afforded him awareness of many things, it did little to identify the nutritional value of his first prison meal. He opted for attempting to eat the items he could readily identify. He sat down at the end of an empty table and took a preliminary bite of the eggs. Tiny watched the new guy with interest. He was a cool customer. The cat calls didn't appear to faze him. He looked over his tray with the same inspective eye as a hardened con would. Tiny guessed that the newbe had done a fair share of time already. The rumors had it that he was extradited from the States and was in for murder. He didn't look like the homicidal type. But then, Tiny didn't look tiny either. Hard to say with some guys. Maybe this newbe was going to surprise him. As he attempted to eat that portion of his breakfast that he had decided might be edible, he wished that he had one of Nat's protein shakes. They tasted awful, but, they had to taste better than this stuff. A half a dozen bites was all he could manage. He hated the smell of coffee. Nat loved her caffeine. He took a few sips of his coffee and wondered again how she could drink such large quantities of the stuff. As he set his cup down he heard the guard approach him from behind. "Stand up, 578236." He stood up and turned to face the guard. "Pick up your tray and follow me." Picking up his tray he followed the guard. Stopping at the dishwashing conveyor the guard simply pointed at the food disposal area. Nick scrapped the uneaten portion of his meal into the garbage and deposited his tray, cup and utensils on the conveyor. "You learn fast. Good." The guard moved on and he followed him. They moved down a corridor, past a barred door and into an underground passageway that lead to the administration offices. They came to a stop outside the office of the warden and Nick was faced with another guard. The new guard looked him up and down. He held a clipboard. "Says here you can use a computer. That right?" His voice contained none of the scorn Nick had heard in the voices of the other guards. "Yeah." "You educated?" The guard looked him in the face. "Yeah." "Okay, school boy. You're gonna work in the office. We need someone to do the record entries and we don't need to be training no body to use the computer. Either you can do it or you can't. If you can't, you go to the laundry. Got it?" The guard came to stand immediately in front of him and added a touch of threat to his voice. Nick looked him in the eyes for the briefest of moments and then looked past him to the wall again. "Yeah. I got it." He kept his voice carefully neutral. Richardson had been right. They would put him to work in the administration offices. It remained to be seen if there was any information he could glean from the situation. The guards name that secured the administration offices was Conley. He took Nick on a brief tour of the offices and showed him the computer terminal he would be using. The rules for addressing the office staff were simple. He wasn't allowed to. If he had a question, he was to ask Conley. He would be given a break once every two hours for ten minutes. He was not allowed to talk or make any sound other than to address Conley, and only when he had a question. If he was not able to demonstrate progress each day with the assignments given him, he would be transferred to work in the laundry. No second chances. After his 'orientation' to his new duties he was brought to the wardens office and made to stand outside the door until the warden was ready to see him. The warden saw all of the new inmates on their first day. "You can go in." Conley told him. Conley followed Nick into the office and stood at the door. The light, from the windows at the top of the wall where the basement of the building extended above ground level, was cast in two streams on either side of the wardens desk. Nick made sure to stand between the two streams of light and well back of their location on the floor. These were the only windows in the administrative offices. He figured that he wouldn't have to be in this office too often and if he could avoid the sun's rays he should be fine. Warden Hardesty looked up from the folder on his desk and addressed Nick. The moment he spoke, Nick recognized the voice from earlier that morning. It was the voice that had stopped the beating given him by the welcoming guard. "So 578236, your name is Nick Knight...." All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 9) by Carrie Krumtum The post office was not yet open when she arrived. She was early. She had thought about dropping the letter into the collection box at the front of her building, but the collection time posted was not until the afternoon. No, she wanted to make sure the letter was well on it's way by this afternoon. As the clerk unlocked the door she was waiting to enter. The church was as quiet as...well...a church. It really wasn't a church anymore. It was the home of a vampire. Still, Tracy hadn't been to an actual church in quite some time. Not since college. A wedding here and there, yeah, but that didn't really count. She did feel the need to talk about her feelings though. And to pray. For some reason she couldn't quite define, even for herself, her discomfort with the whole situation. It made her feel like she ought to be praying for Nick. As far as she could tell, Nick wasn't much for church either. He could quote the bible like a priest, but he rarely discussed anything even remotely religious in context. Politically correct maybe, or maybe just agnostic. Whatever the deal was, she doubted that he was praying for himself. So, someone needed to. It might as well be her. Yeah, maybe someone else was more likely to get results. She and God had not exactly been on a first name basis lately. Especially since she had discovered a new kind of creature in God's universe. But, perhaps God could see His way clear to listen to her about this. After all, it was for Nick, not herself. He watched her from the shadows. She was standing looking at the portion of the sanctuary that would have held the alter. With her eyes closed she moved her lips in silent supplication. A prayer. There was no sound but he could read her lips. She was praying for her partner's safety. Whatever Knight was into, it was probably trouble. The discussion in the yard turned to the new boy almost as soon as the first inmates hit the dirt. It was always that way. New shipments meant new bets to be made, new territory to claim. Rank waited for Jojo to get out into the yard. He had listened to Griff and his hounds plan their mill session. The amount of the bribe for the guard and how much each of them was to contribute. They were wasting no time. He was reconsidering his wager as he listened. Tiny was listening as well. There was something different about this newbe. He had first thought that he looked weak. But watching him this morning, he wasn't so sure. This newbe just might surprise everyone. "...is that right?" The warden looked at him with mild amusement on his face. "Yes." Nick said, careful to keep voice and affect perfectly neutral. "Yes SIR." Conley chided him from behind. "Yes, sir." Nick corrected without looking behind him. "Well then, I guess that means that you think you are better than everyone else in this institution. Is that so?" The smile on the warden's face broadened ever so slightly. "No, sir." "You could have fooled me this morning, 578236. Or do you consider punishment beneath you?" His tone took on a sarcastic edge. "No, sir." Looking down at the folder on his desk, the warden continued, "I have your file here, 578236. It says here that you are guilty of murder. Is that right?" "Yes, sir." He looked up at the prisoner. This was the first time in his recent memory that a prisoner had admitted to his crime during the first interview. He would have to pay close attention to this one. He had a way about him. Cocky. His external control was the best he had seen in quite a while. He nodded his head. He would have to see just how much control this one had. A few days to familiarize him with the routine, then he would throw him to the wolves. He would sink or swim. Either way, he would break Knight's control. It was always necessary to break them. No one ever left his prison unless they were broken... The chapel was quiet today. Chap knew it would be. Everyone was in the yard discussing the new guy. He moved all the furniture into a corner and prepared to strip the wax off the floor. He had been praying for the newbe since his arrival. The hounds would be planning the mill session. The books would be making their bets. The warden would be making his standard speech about his way of doing things in his joint. And the newbe would be overwhelmed. He needed prayer. "You will do exactly what you are told to do. If you do not, you will be punished. You will not engage in the harassment of any other prisoner in this institution. If you do, you will be punished. You will speak with respect to each and every staff member of this institution. If you do not, you will be punished. You will report any infractions you witness to the staff. If you do not, you will be punished. Do you understand these simple rules, 578236?" The warden looked at him expectantly. "Yes, sir." "Good. You may go." With that, the warden closed the folder in front of him and dropped it into a pile of other papers on his desk and moved on to another document. Behind him, Nick heard Conley open the door to the office. "Let's go." Nick turned and left the warden's office. He had the distinct impression that the warden was perfectly aware of everything that went on in this institution. The problem before him now was finding a way to prove it. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 10) by Carrie Krumtum When she had fallen completely still he approached her. "Trace?" Jumping, she laid her hand on her chest. "OH! God. I wish you would stop doing that." She took a deep breath. "Sorry." He wasn't. He smiled at her with the most mischievousness she could ever remember seeing in one expression. "So...your partner in need of spiritual help?" "How did you...?" Her face was awash with her confusion. Pointing to her lips he said, "Your lips move when you pray. Besides, this is kind of an unusual place to pray, isn't it?" "In a church? I thought it was the perfect place." "It's not a church anymore." He looked about him. "What makes you think God is looking in here, anyway?" It was her turn to smile, "What makes you think He isn't? Besides, we can all use spiritual help from time to time." Javier Vachon just stared at her. He had believed that at one time. That was a long time ago. A whole other existence ago. "So, what's up with your partner?" Tracy moved to sit down on the edge of a crate. "I don't know. It's a federal secret. All I know is that I have a bad feeling about it. I'm worried for him, Vachon." He tilted his head slightly and not-quite-so-absentmindedly ran his fingers along the edge of her jacket collar. "Knight can take care of himself." "I know," his closeness was a little distracting, "but, even good cops like Nick need back-up. I just wish I knew he had some, that's all." More than he needs, probably, he thought. Knight could handle himself. What Vachon wasn't sure of was if he could handle the emotions she was producing in him just now... Lunch was no better than breakfast had been. He was beginning to feel really hungry. He tried to methodically chew small bites of the casserole that occupied the largest portion of the surface of his tray. It was awful. Truly awful. Maybe going cold turkey on the hemoglobin was a bad idea. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. The sound of the hearts that beat within the breasts of the several hundred men in the dining hall seemed to pound at his consciousness. He needed to eat. Period. Nausea or not. He wished for the thousandth time since his arrival that he could see, hear, smell her. Touch her. Less than a day on the inside and he was consumed with thoughts of her. He sighed and took another bite of his lunch. Someone big sat down across from him. Up until now, other than the jeers of the other inmates, no one from the prisoner population had said a civil word to him. He looked up at the man that now opposed him at the table. He kept his expression even. "Heard you're in for murder. That right?" Tiny asked without preamble. Nick regarded him for a moment before answering. This guy was so big that he probably was left to his own devices by the population at large. He had to weigh over 400 pounds and Nick estimated him to be about six foot six. Quite possible the largest man he had ever met. And there was a lot of history in that reckoning. "Yeah." He tone was carefully neutral. There was open surprise on the other man's face. Nick also noted that the conversations around them died away. Others were paying close attention to their exchange. Tiny had never heard a new guy state that he was guilty before. Hell, the whole joint was filled with guys who were innocent of all charges. All you had to do was ask 'em. He smiled and shook his head. Yep, this guy was going to surprise a lot of people. "Name's Tiny." Nick couldn't keep the grin off his face. It was a small slip, but the name was too perfect, too cliched, not to amuse him. "Nick." He introduced himself by extending his hand to the big man. Tiny took the proffered hand. It had been a long time since someone had offered their hand to him. He took it and shook it firmly. It was his turn to grin. This slender, pale guy had a very firm handshake, strong and sure. It wasn't necessary to get the feel of a person quickly in prison, you generally had years to get to know them. But, Tiny was beginning to like this guy. He was chock full of unexpected things. "Yeah, heard that too. Heard you took a few on the chin coming in." Remembering his welcome to the prison, Nick reached up and rubbed his jaw where it should still hurt. He shrugged. Turning his attention back to his lunch, he took another bite. Listening to the heartbeat of his new acquaintance he noted a very irregular rate and he could hear the wheezes in the man's chest when he breathed. Tiny was a big man with a very overworked heart. He was not going to live too many more years. He looked back up at the big man as he chewed. "You been assigned yet?" Tiny wondered where they were going to work Nick. He didn't look like he had done much hard physical labor in his life. Still, with the strength he noted in his hand, he could get by just about anywhere in the joint. As long as he survive the mill. "Office." He swallowed. "Computers." He took a sip of milk from his cup. He would much rather drink another bovine fluid. Glancing at his tray he realized he had eaten perhaps a quarter of his food. He hadn't like any of it, but he had managed to get that much down. He hoped it would be enough, he just couldn't face another bite. "Brain, huh?" Tiny was looking at him with a sizing glance. Of course, he didn't look like a laborer of any kind. It was true he had the equivalent of a college education. Several as a matter of fact. His file revealed that he had a degree in Chemistry and another in Archeology. By any prison standards he was a 'brain'. "I guess." Paying closer attention to the big man he realized that he was almost the exact opposite. Tiny was a man who probably had very little formal education. He was tattooed. Military. He had served for a long period of time in the navy. American. He was sun and wind burned from long hours outdoors. Multiple biker gang tattoos declared that he had gotten that way, not from labor but, from many hours on the open road aboard a motorcycle. Tiny had numerous visible scars from stabbings, bullets, cuts, scrapes. They dominated his right arm. His shield arm. Tiny was left handed. His eyes were clear and intuitive. Others probably thought of the big man as not too bright, but Nick saw that the opposite was closer to the truth. He had seen a lot of hard life, he could read people, he had learned to survive. Still, his size had afforded him more freedom than he had known what to do with as a young man. He had made bad choices, and now, was paying for them. Nick sensed no bitterness in Tiny. Just a resolution to make the best of his circumstances. Nick noted that Tiny was looking past him then. Nick heard the guard approaching. "Stand up." Conley ordered from behind him. He stood up and turned around to face Conley. He picked up his tray, cup and utensils. "Follow me." Conley turned and headed out of the dining hall. He waited for Nick to dispose of his lunch tray before heading back towards the administrative offices. Tiny watched as Nick was led out of the hall. He sure hoped Nick made it through the mill. He thought that he and Nick might be friends. God knows, you can always use another friend in the joint. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 11) by Carrie Krumtum The wagering was completed. Jojo had noted all the bets that had been offered in a small memo book he carried in the front pocket of his shirt. The betting had picked up after Tiny had jawed the newbe. Politeness don't get you too far in the joint. It was a sign of weakness. The average length for all bets was two weeks. Tiny hadn't bet this time. When asked why he just shrugged. Jojo guessed he had his reasons. Looking at his books he estimated that he would make nearly a carton off this one. He smiled. With sticks like that he could get himself something nice. Yeah, this newbe was going to finance something real nice for him. He recognized the GUI system on the computer instantly. It was the same system that the precinct used. It might even be connected to the same government server. If that was true, his access code might even work at this station. He would have to wait to try it out though. The office staff would be watching him pretty close until they got used to his presence. After a couple of days he would become just another assigned inmate to the clerical tasks no body else wanted to do. The first assignment they had given him was to type the entire Prison Health policy manual onto the system. The manual could then be revised digitally and hard copies of any individual policies printed out when needed. The work was dry, but, it kept him busy. After two hours he was told to take a break. Conley escorted him to the bathroom reserved for inmates only on the basement level. He paused briefly before entering to listen. The was no sound of another person in the bathroom. He entered and looked around. No booths, just the standard fixtures. Steel not porcelain. No privacy wasted on the criminal element. After what should have been sufficient time to urinate, he flushed the nearest urinal and washed his hands. He rejoined Conley in the hall. Conley escorted him back up the hallway toward the administrative offices. "Why'd you do it?" Conley asked as they walked. "Do what?" "Keep telling Hoffman your name. Why'd you do that?" Nick wondered why Conley would want to know. It must be pretty common for prisoners to be insubordinate. Surely Conley had witnessed a lot of that kind of rebellion. No, Conley was curious as to what was motivating him. So far, Nick had been able to keep everybody guessing about him. "I answered his question." At that, Conley stopped and turned to him. "You know what he was asking." The tone of his voice took on a menacing edge for the first time since Nick had interacted with him. Nick continued to look at him with a neutral expression. "I asked you a question, 578236. Why?" Conley's eyes bored into him. Nick looked at him with directness. "Because it is my name." He looked away from his face and beyond him then. Conley continued to stare at him for several moments. This one was going to be hard to break. He shook his head. He was too damn smart for his own good. The warden just loved to break the touch ones. And he always broke 'em. One way or another. Hell, that was why everything in the office had been in an uproar lately. The last newbe hadn't been treated after going through the mill. Damn fool, Vickering. He should of known the kid wouldn't live before sending him to the hole. But, this guy.... He had attitude. The kid had just been scared when he tried to tell his attorney about the mill. Hully had been goading him about it for three days before it happened. This guy listened to everything without any expression at all. If he was scared, he wasn't showing it. He had been extradited pretty fast, and before being put in this prison, he had been in a county jail. A small county jail somewhere in the States. Idiot probably had no idea what was in store for him. The warden knew that the mill could break a man. Especially a proud man. And this guy was proud. Too damn proud for a confessed murderer. It just didn't fit. There was something about this guy that just didn't fit. He took a deep breath. He guessed it really didn't matter. He was in for life. Conley would have plenty of time to figure it out. All the time he would ever need. They returned to the office where Nick's work station was without any further conversation. Nick wasn't sure what to make of their exchange. It seemed important to Conley to be able to understand Nick. To find out how strong his will was. How much it would take to break him. "How much?" The guard hadn't thought about that. "What did Vickering get?" "A c-note." "Then make it a c-note and a stone." "Why so much? You know it's gonna be hard to get that much. Maybe it can't be done." The guard laughed at Griffin. "Well, then maybe you'll have to be your own best friend, won't ya?" Damn screw, Griff thought. "What about a c-note plus ten?" It took him a minute to answer. One hundred and ten dollars was better than nothing at all. "Okay. But, listen. It's getting hot in the warden's office. Hardesty might not let the mill work anymore. Watch it." It was Griff's turn to laugh. "Yeah, we'll watch it. Believe me." He was counting on watching it. He was given one hour before dinner to spend in the chapel or the library since he couldn't go out into the yard, sunset wasn't until 7:12 p.m. He opted for the library. Conley had been replaced by a guard named Fitzgerald. The new guard seemed a bit more cordial than Conley. Fitzgerald introduced him to the librarian. "This is Chap. He's the closest thing to a real librarian we've had since I worked here." Chap looked at the new guy. It didn't seem too surprising to find him in the library on his first day. The newbe had the look of books about him. "Hi." "Hi." Nick maintained his neutral demeanor but extended his hand to the librarian. Fitzgerald moved to the table that held some newspapers and, retrieving the Sports segment of one of them, went to stand at the door. "What can I help you with?" Chap asked his new patron as he shook his hand. He noted the coolness of the newbe's hand and released the grip. Nick looked around the room. All four walls were lined with books and magazines. There were three tables in the center of the room, these with eight chairs each. There were several doors along the north and east walls of the room. Nick assumed they led to rooms that held materials the inmates were not permitted to use. "Do you have any Shakespeare?" Chap smiled. Shakespeare. He hadn't been asked about Shakespeare in years. "Yeah, I think I got some of his stuff. Anything in particular?" He thought of Nat. "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Dinner had been completely inedible to him. Two meals in one day should be enough for his first day of incarceration. He was tired. He had been up for 38 hours now. He would have no trouble sleeping tonight. He was allowed to bring the book he had gotten at the library back to his cell. He read as much as he could before the lights went out. Tomorrow would bring a new challenge. He had heard the rumors in the cell block. Tomorrow he would be initiated by the other inmates. They had it all planned. Tomorrow he would face the mill. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 12) by Carrie Krumtum Bloody mess. This particular scene was a bloody mess. Natalie crouched next to the body of a young man who had wrapped his truck around a utility pole. There was blood everywhere. She sighed. The coroner had been called in on this because of who this kid was. The son of a local legislator. Her report wouldn't do much to brighten his memory of his son. She could smell the alcohol in him. The toxicology would come back with an astronomical ETOH level, and, probably drugs as well. Standing, she looked over at Tracy Vetter. Tracy was talking to her partner. Ed Rhoades. NOT Nick. Nat felt a sudden ache at that. Reese had assigned a temporary partner for Tracy just like he had done for Nick when Schanke had headed for Alberta. Damn. She shook herself mentally. Temporary means just that. It does not always follow that temporary will become permanent just because Tracy did. Damn. She sighed again. "I thought you said you would keep me informed." Joe Reese was trying, very hard, not to shout over the phone. Fred Richardson sighed, "I will. We haven't made contact with him yet because that would look suspicious. It is rare for an inmate to be visited on his first day of incarceration by his attorney. We'll be going in tomorrow. After we contact him I'll let you know something. He's fine Captain Reese, I assure you." "Well, he better be." Reese didn't like this at all. He was beginning to like it less and less. Didn't Richardson say they would have daily contact with Nick? Or was that near daily? Oh, hell. He just wanted to know if his detective was all right. "Get back to me when you know something. Please?" "I will Captain." Richardson said. He understood how Reese felt. But, Knight knew the risks when he signed on. "Just let us do our job. We'll get Knight back to you as soon as we can." Yeah, as soon as you're done using him. "Okay." He hung up. Damn. He had kind of hoped he would feel better about this whole thing tonight. He shook his head. He didn't. As soon as they were done they headed back to the precinct. Tracy drove with her new partner in her passenger seat. Ed was a nice enough guy, but, he wasn't Nick. Nick would have teased her about the face she made at the sight of all that blood at the scene. Nick would have decided to go and talk to the parents right away, not wait and get clearance from Reese like Ed was wanting to do. City official or not, Nick would have gone at this full tilt. Ed was more reserved, more cautious. He didn't want to step on anyone's toes. Ed wanted to be captain someday. Nick didn't seem to care in the least whether or not he was ever promoted. Nick just wanted to be a cop. Tracy sighed. She had worked less than a full shift with her temporary partner, and already she couldn't wait for Nick to get back. That kind of surprised her. She had talked about that with Vachon early that morning. Nick teased her, a lot. He was a strange mix of male chauvinism and modern man. Sometimes Nick seemed to be fully aware of the struggle a female cop faced each and every day on the job. Sometimes he seemed to be living in the Dark Ages when it came to women. Vachon had laughed at that observation. Still, Nick was a hard guy to figure out. He was complicated. Kind of like Vachon. Well, not exactly like Vachon, but, complicated none the less. Tracy figured that that was what Natalie saw in him. That, and the fact that Nick was a good looking guy. She smiled. He really was. She wouldn't be caught dead telling him that though. He entered the loft. It was perfectly still. Of course, Nicholas would be hard at 'work' now. Slaving away for his mortal inferiors. Being a 'good cop'. Damn the rebellious boy. There was something going on with him. He had felt it all day. Something different. The feelings of isolation he felt. He sighed. Whatever it was, Nicholas would be telling him about it, soon. He took to the air... A five spot. That's all it would cost to get in on it. Hully smiled. He didn't like this one. He was too quiet. Too cocky. Nothing seemed to disturb him. Well, Hully would disturb him all right. Right in the ass. Hully liked the ass. Pitchin' this guy was going to be a real pleasure. It was well worth the five spot. Well worth it. Jojo had told him he would make maybe a whole carton on the newbe. Rank would settle for breakin' even. He had tried to talk with Tiny after dinner since Tiny was the only one to jaw him. Damn mountain didn't have nothing to say about the newbe. Just some bull about him being different. He didn't look all that different to Rank. He was a pale white bastard who probably wouldn't make it through the mill. And Griff had wasted no time setting it up neither. He had given him two weeks. Hell, he might not even make it past tomorrow. Rank sighed, he would definitely be happy if he just broke even. He finished typing the report into the computer and saved the file. The only time he had access to the inmate records was late at night. The warden had given him his own access code. The investigators from the Solicitor General's office would be there in the morning. Hardesty had wanted him to make sure all the files were in order. The doctored medical report and the fictional classification report were placed in Billy Talvert's records. When it was printed out tomorrow all the required documentation would be present. Conley smiled. He would have to ask the warden for a bonus on the merits of this night's work. Nodding, he shut down the work station and locked the door. He had been planning that fishing trip. Maybe he would soon be able to afford the new boat he had been wanting. Sleep came fitfully to him. He dreamed. Dreamed of sunshine on her hair. Dreams filled with her laughter. Then his dreams took on the darkness. Nightmares of shadowy threats. He tossed in his bunk. He hungered as well. All those heart beats, all that blood. It called to him... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 13) by Carrie Krumtum It didn't surprise him too much that Tiny rejoined him at breakfast. The fact that Chap joined him did. The other two men sat across from him and hungrily ate their meals while talking about their convictions, prison stay histories and families. It was incredible how much information they shared. As if, just having an unbiased ear unstopped the dam that had held back their stories. Not that he wasn't enjoying their life stories. He was. Tiny's story was pretty much like he had guessed it would be. A young man left on his own. His size allowing authority figures to mistake him for a man. He had run wild, fought hard, and had fought the wrong fights sometimes. He wasn't a violent man a heart. Nick guessed that being a large man meant that there was always someone out there who wanted to prove he was bigger, tougher. Chap's story was more poignant in a way. He had been born into real poverty. Learning the value of theft to keep food on the table. Anger and frustration at social barriers led to bigger and bigger crimes until, one day, he killed a store clerk during a robbery. Now he would spend the rest of his life behind bars. Chap was the first person to admit that his life was the result of his own choices, not societies. Nick had seen too much history not to know that there was social relevance in the decisions Chap had made. As he surveyed the food that remained on his tray, most of the meal still remaining, he thought about how similar his life was. He had also made choices that he was ill equipped to deal with. He would be destined to live with the results of his decision. Only, their fate was much better than his. They would live out their lives in mere physical confinement. Finite confinement. His was a confinement to a darkness of the soul that would last an eternity. That is, if he was not able to make it back across. He had spent the better part of the last few hundred years believing it was possible to escape the prison of his own creation. The difference that he saw between himself and these men was one of courage. Both of them had come to accept the results of their youthful folly. He had not. They accepted their confinement with a grace that eluded him. They had an inner courage. A courage of the heart that allowed them to look honestly at themselves and accept where they were and what they faced. He hadn't been able to do that. He doubted that he had that courage within him. In eight hundred years he had never been able to do what these two men had done in less than forty. He had never been able to accept his fate. It was desperation that drove him to find a way out. How much easier would it have been for him to simply walk into the sun? Or to revamp himself and give up the mortal struggle? Not easier, harder. To continue as he did was by far the easier way for him. It meant not having to judge the merits of his decision. Not having to accept his punishment. It was a kind of denial. He had spent centuries in denial. These men had moved beyond that. Nick could learn a lot from them. He hoped he would. It was right there in front of him. The clue that might be a key to where the warden's responsibility in the death of Billy Talvert lie. It was a protocol for the Inmate Sexual Assault Prevention/Intervention Program. He guessed that it was included in the Prison Health policy manual because of the intervention standards. He read the entire protocol carefully as he typed. If what he was reading was true, there had to be documentation of the prisons compliance with the protocol in Billy Talvert's file. Talvert should have been classified on arrival as 'at risk' for sexual assault. Nick had read his file and knew he met several of the guidelines that were listed in the protocol. The protocol called for screening for classification within 24 hours of arrival. Since Nick had yet to be screened, it was a good bet that Talvert hadn't been. And if the documentation had been altered, or faked, there would be a paper trail that he might be able to follow. He kept typing. Griff had been able to collect from 37 cell block residents. That meant he had a nice bundle to use for his own special preview. He would have to bribe Conley into letting McCabe take care of the newbe this afternoon instead of Fitzgerald. Then, he would have to give McCabe his cut. It was worth the money and effort. He just had to be the first to ride the punk. Then he could go through the mill. Griff smiled. The blond wonderbread boy would be his, very, very soon. Chap had never really spent time with Tiny. Tiny didn't come to the library. Chap spent most of his time in the yard with other black inmates or reading a book. Tiny mostly spent his time with a few other white inmates. Now they sat together looking out on the baseball diamond as they talked. The first conversation the two men had had since their joint incarceration. Chap guessed that they had spent almost twelve years in there at the same time. It seemed funny that it took a total stranger to bring them to the point of a having a simple talk with one another. "You think we should warn him?" Tiny was asking. "Man, I don't know. Griff and his hounds have the power you know. Guards on the rolls and all. I'm too old to do the hole any more." "Yeah, but we should say something. It ain't going to stop it, but maybe he would not take it so hard if he knew it was comin'." Chap thought about that. Griff was the most powerful inmate in the cell block. He had risen to power by shanking Bulldog. Bulldog was how the 'hounds' got their name. But Bulldog hadn't figured on Griff's treachery. Griff had done sixty days in the hole for shanking Bulldog. And, when he got out, had taken his place. He was feared. And in the joint, fear goes a long way. Even if they warned Nick, they wouldn't be able to do anything to help him. But, maybe Tiny was right, they might be able to help Nick realize that the best thing to do was to try and survive the mill. Once he got through it, he would be left alone by most of the hounds. Time would be much easier to do if he would just get through it without fighting. "Yeah, maybe. I just don't want any trouble with Griff." Tiny nodded. Chap was black, but that didn't mean that Griff and the hounds would leave him alone. Tiny had broken a few jaws when he first arrived. He had been way to big for them to handle, so he was left pretty much alone. But Chap didn't have that advantage. For some reason, Tiny felt kind of concerned for Chap. He didn't know him at all, but Chap was on the level. Tiny could always tell if a guy was on the level. He decided that it would be safest if he was the one to warn Nick. "Okay, I'll tell him at lunch." Chap nodded. "I'll pray for him." That was something Chap knew he could do without getting in any kind of trouble at all. Fred Richardson noted Knight at the computer immediately on entering the administrative offices. He was greeted almost immediately by Warden Hardesty and was ushered into the warden's office. Knight hadn't made any indication at all that he had ever seen Richardson before. Richardson had to admit, Knight was good. "Shut it down and stand up, 578236." Conley ordered. He closed the file he was working on and shut down his work station. Standing up he turned to face the guard with a neutral expression. It wasn't time for his break yet. Something else was up. "You've got a visitor. Follow me." Nick followed Conley out of the office and into the corridor. Behind him, in the warden's office, he could hear Richardson questioning Hardesty. He wondered who he was being taken to see. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 14) by Carrie Krumtum The warden was more than happy to answer all of Fred Robertson's questions. It was a tragedy that Billy Talvert had been brutalized by the other inmates. Yes, the nurse had looked at him, but somehow had missed the rectal bleeding. Maybe Talvert had been too embarrassed to mention it? Yes, Talvert had been classified, no special precautions were needed in the opinion of the interviewer. Yes, the interviewer had gone through the required training. No, there was no way for the warden to have foreseen the assaults. Yes, they would have been prevented if the staff had only known about it in advance. Hardesty was smooth. Slippery. He was well practiced. Damn. Robertson would like nothing more than to get him out of there. He knew as well as he was sitting there that more young inmates would die or be injured if Hardesty remained warden of the institution. He just hoped Knight would be able to give him what he needed. The interview room was small, contained a table and two chairs and was entered through a barred door. Nick was ushered into the room by Conley and was met by a man he had never seen before. The man stood up and extended his hand to Nick as Conley left, locking the door behind him, leaving the two men alone. Nick took the proffered hand and stood across the table from his visitor. "Hello." The other man shook his hand briefly and then sat down, opening his briefcase. Nick sat down as well. His visitor introduced himself. "I'm Randy Polchevsky with the Solicitor General's office." "Pleased to meet you." "We are grateful for your assistance, Nick." Polchevsky removed a folder and a legal pad and placed them on the table between them. Closing his briefcase he set in on the floor and turned his attention to Nick. "Glad to be of service." Polchevsky regarded the detective. He looked pale and tired. "Are you all right? Have you been mistreated?" Nick smiled slightly, "Nothing I can't handle." Polchevsky looked at him for a few long seconds. He shrugged. Knight must know what he's doing. "I know they've assigned you to the administrative offices. Have you been able to find out anything yet?" Nick told his visitor about the protocol he had found, the fact that he had not been classified and the possibility of using his access code to get into the inmate records on the computer system. Conley watched as the two men inside the interview room talked. This was as talkative as he had seen the new guy. Well, if you can't tell your lawyer, who can you tell? He laughed and shook his head. Griff approached Conley from the hall. He was mopping the floors on this level. He continued to mop the floor while speaking to the guard. "I'd like for McCabe to take the newbe today." Griff reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He passed it to Conley. Taking the note, Conley looked back into the interview room. "You just can't wait can you Griff?" He laughed again. "McCabe, Conley." Griff said. Conley turned his attention back to the prisoner in front of him. "Okay." Griff began to move away, mopping as he went. Conley called after him, "Griff. You forgot a spot." He pointed towards the floor. He was laughing at Griff now. Griff swept the mop over the indicated spot and moved on. He hated Conley, but, Conley was useful. He put up with him only because he provided Griff with a valuable service. Someday his usefulness would wear off, and, when that day came, Griff would enjoy disposing of him. He was already doing life, he had nothing to lose. "I'll see you again in a few days." Polchevsky said as he began to put the items on the table back into his briefcase. "I have a question for you." Nick said. Polchevsky looked back at the detective. "Shoot." "Tell me about the mill." Nick noted the look of instant concern that spread across his visitors face. "You've heard about that, huh? Of course you have." He nodded slightly and finished closing his briefcase. "The mill is the initiation of a new punk to his role as a sexual subordinate in the prison population. You read the report on the sexual roles of prisoners, right?" He received a nod of affirmation from the detective. "Well, in this particular institution, the mill is particularly brutal. That's how we suspect Billy Talvert died. The assaults are repeated over the course of hours, sometimes even days." Nick thought again about what he had read in Billy Talvert's file. He had been easy prey for the hounds. Polchevsky was worried for the detective. "Nick. You should be very careful. We don't want you to undergo what happened to Billy Talvert. We were hoping to get you out of here before anything like that would be attempted with you." "They've already planned it for tonight." Nick informed him. He really was concerned now. "Then I'm pulling you out of here. We'll just have to get the evidence on the warden some other way." "No." Polchevsky couldn't believe what he thought he heard. "No? You want to stay in here? Are you aware of what they are planning to do to you? Nick, staying in here is crazy." Nick took a deep breath. He couldn't tell Polchevsky that he was in no real danger, that he could take care of himself. How was he going to explain it? He thought about Tiny and Chap. He thought about all the other victims of the mill, past and future. No man should have to go through that. No matter what they had done to go to prison. "I can handle myself. Look, the only way you are going to stop this sort of thing is to change the way this prison is run. To do that, you're going to have to get Hardesty out of here. And, to do that, you need me on the inside. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." Polchevsky just stared at him. Knight was either the bravest man he had ever met or the craziest. Right now it was a fifty/fifty bet as to which Knight was. He did have a point, though. They really did need him on the inside. He shook his head as he made his decision. "All right. We'll leave you in. But, if you are harmed in anyway, and I mean ANY way, you're out of here." "Fair enough." They both stood. Polchevsky shook Nick's hand again and then waved at the guard. "Watch yourself, Nick." Conley opened the door then. Nick turned to leave and noted the look of amusement on Conley's face. He was led back his work station, the whole time Conley regarded him with that same entertained grin. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com Pardon gentles all, I don't know if this is getting through, I'm trying to change mailers. If you have gotten multiple posts, forgive. I didn't receive a confirmation from the other mailer. So I am using the old standby AOL. Carrie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 15) by Carrie Krumtum Nick was having a hard time deciding what to eat off of his tray. He felt a little weak, but not too bad. He was getting enough nutrition from what he had managed to eat, but every meal was a real struggle. He had managed for most of the day to ignore the heart beats of those around him. He knew that he would have to start eating more if he was to keep the bloodlust in tight control. The goal for this meal was half. Trouble was deciding on which half. He took another bite of what Tiny called meatloaf and chewed. "I need to warn you about something." Tiny had lowered his voice in a conspiratory way. Nick looked up at him expectantly. "About what." Chap was studiously working over he lunch tray. Whatever Tiny had to say to him, Chap was aware and didn't want anyone else to know. "You're going through the mill tonight." Tiny informed him. "I think you should just be careful and relax. You'll get through it better if you don't fight it." Tiny looked at his new friend. He had expected to see fear on his face. Nick didn't even looked surprised. "Thanks." Tiny sat up. Chap looked over at Nick. Both of them just stared at the newbe. Damned if he isn't the coolest bastard I've ever met, Tiny thought. He looked at Chap and saw the same thought on his face. He shook his head and went back to his meal. He had warned him. That's all he could do. The rest was up to Nick. She was having a hard time sleeping. Ever since Nick had left, she couldn't help but think about him. Maybe what they say is true. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. She sighed. Her letter wouldn't even get to the prison for a few days, and then, who knew how long it would take the prison officials to read it and pass it on to him. This whole situation was just making her crazy. Damn you, Nick. Why do you always have to be the White Knight, riding in to save the day for everyone? Couldn't you, just once, let somebody else handle it? "Of course you can't." She said out loud. The sound of her own voice startled her. She had been concentrating so hard that her remark was subconscious. "Oh, girl. You've got to get a grip." Nat rose from her bed and went to get a cup of hot chocolate. So what if it was two o'clock in the afternoon. If he could go to prison without being convicted, she could have cocoa whenever she damn well felt like it. McCabe found the note and the money in his locker when he arrived for his shift. He smiled. He would enjoy watching the new guy gettin' pitched. When he had met the bus on the newbe's arrival, the bastard had refused to repeat his number. McCabe would have got him to do it if the warden hadn't stopped him. Hardesty had no balls. He was too damn worried about the investigation over Talvert's death. Well, 578236 wouldn't be killed. McCabe would see to that. He wouldn't be killed, but, he would learn his place. And Griff was just the guy to educate him. There was a new guard that afternoon when Conley was relieved. Nick finished his shift at the computer and shut down the work station. He wasn't able to try his access code that day. Too much activity in the office due to Robertson's investigation. He would try tomorrow. "Stand up." Nick recognized the new guard immediately. This was the one who had beat him on his arrival. He stood up. "Learn you're name yet, 578236?" McCabe asked him, venom for a voice. Nick didn't answer. He stood, looking past McCabe, with the same neutral expression. McCabe smiled. He was a smug bastard. We'll see how smug he was after Griff was through with him. "Move. The library." Nick headed out down the hall. This guard hadn't given him the choice of where to spend his hour of rec time. That was all right. Nick had no desire to go to the chapel. Griff entered the library and closed the door. Chap was putting up the books from off of the cart he used to deliver to the cell blocks. "Out." Chap looked up at his guest. Griff was an infrequent visitor to the library. Chap had been expecting Nick. The situation dawned on him. Damn. Griff was going to try and pitch Nick before the mill. "I've got to finish this." Chap tried to sound calmer than he felt. He feared Griffin. "I said out old man." Griff didn't want to have to hit the old guy. He wasn't worth going to the hole over. Chap decided the best thing to do was to comply. He didn't have a death wish. Nick was going to have a rough time with this guy. He decided to go to the chapel. He would pray for Nick some more. The door to the library was closed when he reached it. He waited for McCabe to open it and he entered. Instead of finding Chap there he was met by another black man. This one was younger, perhaps thirty. He was a weight lifter as well. It took him a minute to place him. A look of recognition washed across his face. This was Griffin, the leader of the hounds. Nick looked back at McCabe. The guard was leaning up against the now reclosed door with a sinister smile on his face. He had been bribed to bring him here. Nick turned back to Griffin. "I paid a lot of money for you, punk. I think it's time you and me got a few things straight." Griff advanced slowly toward his new sweet boy. He unbuttoned his pants as he moved toward him. "Your ass is mine, sweet boy. So why don't you just turn around and drop 'em." Nick stood his ground. He was a little weak, but he was sure he could handle Griffin. He wasn't sure what McCabe would do. His guessed that he wouldn't interfere. This was a power struggle between inmates. He was just the delivery boy. Griff noted the look of defiance on the newbe's face. It made him angry. He was going to have to teach this one a few lessons. He hit him in the face. Nick took the hit to his jaw by turning his head. He remained where he was standing. The guard behind him laughed. "You'll have to do better than that Griff." McCabe chided the inmate. Griff was really angry now. This bastard was trying to embarrass him. He launched himself at the newbe. They both hit the floor, Nick rolled and threw Griffin over him and was on his feet in one fluid motion. Griff came to rest up against the legs of the nearest table. He rose and came at him again. Sidestepping at the last minute, Nick caught his attacker by the shirt and threw him into the bookshelves that lined the south wall. McCabe realized that Griff was in over his head with this guy. The newbe was much stronger than he looked and he was a good fighter. If he ever wanted money from Griff again he was going to have to help him. He pulled his club from his belt and hit the newbe in the back. Nick dropped to his knees at the blow to his back. He turned just in time to see the club come down at his head. He was only able to duck away enough for the blow to catch his left shoulder instead of his temple. He fell back into McCabe's legs and knocked him down. The guard fell back against the table and sent the table and chairs sliding across the floor and into the other furniture in the room. Griff was now back on his feet and headed towards him. Nick was able to get back to his knees before Griff reached him and took hold of the arm Griff threw at him. Pulling hard, Nick threw Griff over him and against the North wall. McCabe was a little dizzy from hitting his head. He hit the alarm button on the beeper at his belt and stood up. He crouched and circled the newbe until his back was to the door that exited the library. Nick rose and waited for the next attack when he heard the sounds of running feet from the other side of the library door. The door burst open and four more guards entered the room. "He attacked me and this prisoner." McCabe said as he pointed his club at Nick. "Take him to the hole." Two of the guards that had entered the room flanked Nick and took him by the arms, wrenching his arms behind him and nearly lifting him off of his feet. McCabe stood in front of him and hit him in the stomach with his club. Nick double over in the grasp of the guards holding him. "Let's see how you feel after a week in the hole." McCabe spat. At that, the guards drug him away. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 16) by Carrie Krumtum The door slammed shut behind him just as he hit the far wall of the cell. It was completely black in the cell, no light at all. He didn't need the light to see, but in complete blackness even vampires had trouble with acuity. Not that there was anything in the cell to see. It was a five foot by five foot cement cell. No fixtures of any kind. A drain in a corner and a hinged access hole in the door. That was it. So, this is solitary confinement, he thought. He righted himself and sat with his back against the wall he landed on. He tested the mobility of his left shoulder. It hurt slightly, but the joint was okay. He took a deep breath. Great, just great. How are you going to investigate from in here? He really didn't want to be in prison any longer than he had to be. The longer he was away from the administrative offices, the longer he would have to wait to access the computer system. One week. A whole week in here. Sighing, he rested his head back against the wall. The longer this investigation took, the longer he would be away from her. That was the issue, really. Nat. He sighed, again. Tiny was in the infirmary getting his evening medication when they brought in Griff. He was unconscious. The nurse on duty checked his pupils, pulse and blood pressure. McCabe told the nurse that Nick had practically thrown Griff across the room. Twice. Tiny had to smile. He was right about Nick. He had been a big surprise. He WAS different. "He is just fine Captain Reese. Polchevsky saw him today. He said that Knight was just fine. He had even found something that might be significant to the investigation. Don't worry. Everything is going as planned." Fred Robertson spoke into the phone. This time he had called Reese. It was a preemptory strike. He wanted to be left alone this evening. So, he decided to call the captain before the captain called him. "That's good news I guess." Reese knew he should feel better. He didn't. Nick was okay. But, he still felt that this whole situation was...wrong. He shook himself. "Thanks for letting me know." "No problem Captain Reese. When we contact him again, I'll give you another call." "I'd appreciate it." "Good night." "Good night." Reese hung up. Well, he would update Tracy when she came in to start her shift. He also thought he should probably call Natalie. He dialed her number. Griffin had been in the infirmary for over an hour before he came to. The nurse put him on bed rest and restricted him to the infirmary for the night. He would have to have repeated neuro checks throughout the night to insure that he did not have a concussion. When asked what had happened to him all Griffin would say was that the new guy was a dead man. This being the typical response from an inmate who had lost a fight, the nurse noted that Griffin was alert and oriented in his record and went to check on the other inmates in his care. She could feel the tension slowly release as he massaged her shoulders. His hands were gentle. She preferred it that way. The thought made her blush slightly. Slow and gentle. The images that popped into her head were not exactly restrained to a shoulder massage. Vachon noted the slight quickening of her heart rate. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" Her blush deepened. "No!" She replied, just a bit too quickly. "I'm fine. Just fine. Um, that feels good." She bit her lower lip. He shrugged and continued to work on her knotted muscles. Women, he would never grow tired of trying to figure them out. This particular one, anyway. Tracy fascinated him like no woman had in a long time. "Have you heard anything from your partner?" The question about Nick almost made her forget her embarrassment. "No, not yet. I'm hoping the captain will have heard something. I'll find out when I go in tonight." She really was hoping that there was some news. She knew it had only been two days. Still, it was two days. And she was facing another shift without him. "I'm glad to hear that Captain. Thank you for calling. Good night." Natalie hung up. She had said that she was glad without real conviction. The information was so sketchy. The attorney from the SO's office had seen Nick and he looked fine. Well that was just dandy. That didn't come anywhere near to reassuring her. There was so much that could go wrong for Nick in there. Was he eating? Was the food meeting his metabolic needs? Was he being protected from the sun? Was he able to get adequate rest? Did he miss her? She felt like shouting. Standing at her desk in the morgue where she had answered the phone she decided not to. Not that her customers would be bothered. It was just that the acoustics in the building would probably carry the sound to someone else in the building. She really didn't feel like explaining why she had shouted. So, she didn't. She went back to work instead. The dinner they had delivered to him consisted of a piece of bread and a stewlike mixture in a cup. No eating utensils were provided. The fact that he still felt slight pain in his shoulder told him two things, he was weak and in need of nourishment, and that he was perhaps a little closer to his goal of reattaining his lost mortality. He ate all of the food that was given to him. The smell and taste still nauseated him somewhat. But, it was better than starving. He wondered what Nat would think about his eating. She would probably be thrilled. And the pain, that would have been welcome news to her as well. He smiled at that. Nat was the eternal optimist. She truly believed that they would be successful. Even when he had been willing to give up. Even when he had disappointed her. Sitting in the darkness, he began to think about all the times he had disappointed her lately. Too many times... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 17) by Carrie Krumtum Damnit. Hardesty slammed down the phone. McCabe was an idiot. Sure, McCabe thought no one knew he was on Griffin's rolls. No one but Conley. Conley had proven very helpful to Hardesty. He was ruthless. That's what was needed to run a prison. Ruthlessness. McCabe was just stupid. Still, it was easier for Hardesty to understand the Vickering's and McCabe's than it was for him to understand the Robertson's. Pantiwasted assholes. They worked in their plush offices at the SG's office, far away from the daily hell of the prisons their thought they ran. It was men like them that made it necessary for men like him to work that much harder. If those bastards at the SG's office had their way, every convict in the system would be given candy and read a bedtime story every night while in the joint. Hardesty, and other wardens like him, the one's who knew what this whole damn war was about, they were the one's who really understood what it takes to reform these men. You had to break their spirits and rebuild them with discipline. Rules of conduct so ingrained, that they would never pose a threat to society again. Of course, there were men who were used as tools in the war. Other prisoners like Griffin. Lifers, men who would never breath another minute of free air. They could be used, if used properly, to break other prisoners. And it was always necessary to break them. There was no rehabilitation without breaking them. If the last twenty years had taught him anything, it was that. Now, he had Knight in the hole. Griffin had been a little overanxious and that fool McCabe hadn't used very good judgement. He thought about the situation. There had to be a way to turn this to an advantage. He nodded. Perhaps there was. The darkness suited his mood. It was full daylight now. The sun had risen. His internal senses kept pace with the rising and setting of the sun. Even in the hole, he could tell day from night. He guessed that other inmates lost tract of it easily. The cell was too small for him to stretch completely out in to sleep, so, he was forced to lay curled on his side. He always slept flat on his back. Hard to break centuries old habits. He slept little. He ate what they brought him. Always the same thing. A piece of bread and a cup of stew. Three meals a day. It was the third day of his stint in solitary. Today was Sunday. Nat would be off tonight. If he had been home, they would have spent some time together. Maybe watch a video or go see a movie. He envisioned her crying at the end of the play they saw the last time they had gone out. It seemed like a long time ago. It had only been a week. She always cryed at the sad endings. That was how their whole relationship would end up. A sad ending. He had thought about his feelings for her. His need for her. He had tried to postulate how this whole situation with them would end. All the various ways it could end. Each of them sad. She would be nothing but hurt no matter what happened. The only escape from that fate was for him to regain his mortality, in her lifetime. When he had started his quest to be human again he hadn't even considered the effects on mortals. He had worried about the response from the community, LaCroix, Janette, the Enforcers. It had never occurred to him that there would be mortal ramifications. He had never foreseen meeting anyone remotely like her. How could he have. For centuries mortals had been nothing more than a means to an end. An end to his hunger. He had never been able to overcome his guilt at that. From the very beginning LaCroix had warned him about the guilt. He had never learned the lesson. Even guilt ridden he had fed. Killing and killing again. Of all the men imprisoned in this institution, none of them deserved to be there as much as he did. He was the truly guilty. Even men like Griffen. At least they had opportunities for redemption. And what of Nat? How he had victimized her. Riping away her innocense. Taking away her ignorance of the creatures of the darkness. Exposing her to the dangers of the night. LaCroix's retribution, the Enforcers, others of their kind who might find her knowledge of them uncomfortable. His need for her. Selfishly, he clung to her. Jealously hoping she would give up any chance of a normal, mortal life to meet his needs. To help him in his quest. Regardless of the cost to her. And she had begun to love him. He had taken that as well. Allowed her to love him. To waste her love on his evil. No, there was no one in this prison who deserved to be there more than he did. He had a way of victimizing everyone he touched. He was the true criminal. Griff sat in his cell in solitary. He had been sent to the hole after being released from the infirmary. His hate swelled with each passing hour. The punk would pay. He would die. But not before Griff got his revenge. He would be made to catch every dick in the joint before Griff was through. Then, he would die. Polchevsky hadn't been able to get back to the prison to see Knight since Thursday. His wife had been sick and he stayed home with the kids. When he called to check on his client Saturday, the guard he had spoke with had told him that Knight was 'just fine'. He wished he could be sure of that. Ed had proven to be even worse with the paperwork than Nick was. Tracy finished the last of the shift reports and sent the file to the printer. She preferred to use the computer rather than the typewriter. Nick always used the typewriter to do his reports. There had been a period where he had stopped doing them. But, lately, he had been much better. She had read through some of the old reports he and his last partner had done. They were meticulous. She knew he had been having a tough time since Schanke was killed. Nick had even told her he wasn't happy that they were made partners. At first. Then their relationship seemed to grow. He had learned to trust her. She had learned to trust him. And she had had to really trust him the past few months. Still, he seemed to always try and do the right thing. It was like Natalie had said. Once you got to know Nick, you understood that much, even if you didn't understand what he was doing at the time. Tracy guessed it was that understanding that kept her from going completely crazy. Whatever Nick was doing, he was trying to do the right thing. She just wished, for the umpteenth time, that she could help him somehow. The captain insisted that he was all right. But even Reese was worried about Nick. He wasn't able to keep his concern concealed from her. Sighing, she went to pick up the report she printed out and drop it in the captain's office before going home. At least she had seen more of Vachon lately. She wasn't sure why, but it seemed that Vachon had been...well, protective. She wasn't complaining or anything. It just seemed like a weird coincidence that Nick should be gone and Vachon should suddenly decide to spend more time together. Hurray for coincidence. She finished writing the letter and addressed the envelope. This was the sixth letter she had written. So far she hadn't received a response from him. Maybe they weren't allowing him to write. Maybe he had written but the prison officials had intercepted the letter. Robertson had explained that their mail would be censored. Maybe he hadn't even read any of the letters. Maybe he just didn't want to write to her. Maybe you should take some Valium and chill, she thought. All the speculation was driving her crazy. He was out of her reach. Period. And it hurt. She knew it would when he took the assignment. He would be gone for several weeks. That could mean two or four or more. Damn. If less than a week was this hard on her, what would the rest of her lifetime be like? The memories she had of how she felt when Nick had decided to leave after Schank and Cohen died flooded her. It had nearly tore her heart apart. She hadn't planned on falling in love with him. It had just happened. Somehow, that night, she had been touched at the core of her being by him. All the revelations about who and what he was, he had been, was trying to become, didn't change the way she felt. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to lie to herself, to deny her feelings. Or to ignore them. Nothing worked. She sighed. Nick was in prison. He was away from her. And it hurt. It hurt like hell. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 18) by Carrie Krumtum As dusk deepened into night, Nat stared out at the darkness as the city lit up. The view from her apartment window was a pretty one. Nick had always liked it. She sighed. Everything she had touched or thought today had r eminded her of him. She turned from the window to go get herself a cup of tea when she noted she was not alone. He startled her. "Good evening, doctor." LaCroix greeted her. He was seated on her couch. She had no idea how long he had been there. After swallowing her heart back down into her chest cavity, she responded to him. "Why are you here?" He smiled. "Your manners have not improved, I see." She was instantly angry. "You were not invited. If anyone needs to learn manners LaCroix, it is you." "Quite so." He inclined his head to her. "Point taken." She remained where she stood. Still angry, she couldn't help but feel a little bit frightened. LaCroix was capable of killing her. "I repeat, why are you here?" Crossing his legs as if to settle in for a long, friendly chat, he replied, "I was wondering if you could tell me where Nicholas is." His voice was cordial, but contained a thinly veiled threatening tone. It was her turn to smile. So, Nick left without telling him. "What makes you think I know?" "Oh, come doctor. Let us not play at games. Nicholas has not left his life. He has merely left his home, temporarily. I am quite sure he would not have done so without telling you where he was going." His tone was almost mocking. "Why should you care where he is? You said yourself, he has not left his life here behind. You do not need to chase after him." His face darkened, ever so slightly, she had hit close to the mark. "I do not CHASE him. He...needs me. I have felt things from him lately that concern me. Perhaps you are unconcerned for him. Perhaps you do not care for him as much as he thinks you do." The revelation that LaCroix had felt something through his bond with Nick frightened her. It would have to be something unusual to bring LaCroix to her. Why didn't he know where Nick was? Maybe the bond they shared had c hanged somehow. Been weakened. Maybe the possession had affected it. "Of course I'm concerned for him. Whether I am or not, it is none of your business, one way or the other." "Ah, but that is where you are mistaken, doctor. Nicholas IS my business. Anything that concerns him is of concern to me." He appeared to be absent mindedly tracing the pattern of the afghan that was thrown over the back of her couch. "I know you believe that." She was getting angrier. LaCroix's possessiveness of Nick had brought Nick nothing but pain and torment. "As you should." He regarded her with thinly veiled contempt. "Now, if you would be so good, doctor, and tell me, where is Nicholas?" She wondered why he didn't just openly threaten her. No, she thought, shaking her head, that would be in poor taste. He liked to play the games, no matter what he said. "Or what, you'll kill me? So, I'm just supposed to tell you anything you want to know? I may be a mere mortal, but I will not crumple at your penitrating glance. If Nick had wanted you to know, he would have told you himself. It is not my place to second guess him." LaCroix stood. He had underestimated the good doctor. She was an annoying one. He was sorely tempted to drain her where she stood. But that would serve no useful purpose presently, other than to make him feel better. "Yo u have not been listening, doctor." He dropped all pretense from his voice. He was annoyed. "There is...something wrong with him. I am merely attempting to help Nicholas." She felt her concern rise again. As much as she would like to believe that this was a trick, there was too much potential for danger with Nick's assignment for her not to take LaCroix seriously. "What do you sense from h im?" He thought about her question for a moment. He had been to Nicholas' loft almost daily. There had been no sign of him there for a week now. He felt Nicholas' guilt. But then, Nicholas always felt guilty. What concerned h im was the tone of what he felt. The isolation. The longing. Maybe even a hint of despair. And, there was the absence of fear. "All I can tell you is that what he is feeling is dangerous. Since I don't know WHY his feelin gs have changed, I cannot tell just HOW dangerous. That is why I wish to know where he is. I would like to ask him." "And you can't find him through your connection, or, whatever it is that you call this...bond of yours?" Natalie was genuinely curious about that. LaCroix wasn't certain he wished to answer her question. The fact that Nicholas could summon him through their link, or visaversa, was one thing. It was quite another for Nicholas to evade him when he wished. The link wa s not that simple. "It is much more complex than that. I am not sure you could understand. I COULD find Nicholas, under certain circumstances." Intuitively she understood. "If Nick wanted you to find him." She was rewarded by a brief look of surprise on LaCroix's face. "Yes." "Then, until such a time as Nick wants you to find him, I'm afraid I can't help you." He looked at her with open disappointment and annoyance. "I'm sorry to hear that, doctor. If, anything should happen to Nicholas, I will hold you partly responsible." "I don't care what you will or won't think." She felt her anger return. "Nick is the principle concern here. Not you." She tried not to allow her anger to fill her voice. Still, she was having a hard time resisting the urge to slap him. He stared at her for a moment. Dr. Lambert had a formidable will. She was, after all, a resistor. Even he required the assistance of a hypnotic drup in order to bend her to his will. She was not going to tell him what he wanted to know. "In that case, doctor. I will take your leave." He had spoken to her, and then he was gone. She heard and felt the faint swooshing of his passing. A reminder of how unprotected she was. How vulnerable to his whim. She hugged herself against a sudden chill. Nick, I hope you're all right, she thought. Please be all right. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 19) by Carrie Krumtum Rank was pleased. Griff was in the hole. The newbe had been in the joint for a week. He has half way home. If the rumors were true, and they general were, Griff would have to do at least another week in the hole. The hou nds would mind themselves until he got out. That would mean Rank could collect. He might just make something off this whole situation. He laughed. Jojo was not happy though. Still, if he knew Jojo, he had hedged his bets. Jojo would make out all right. "I still think we should make sure he does it all. Yeah, McCabe made a mistake, but, we need to make sure this guy understands who's in charge. He's cocky. Too cocky." Conley was trying to convince the warden that 578236 should do the whole week in the hole. Hardesty was concerned about the investigators from the SG's office. "Robertson will be back this afternoon. I don't want any undue attention. He's too new. Griffin is a vet. He knew the risks. McCabe sent them both to s olitary. That's fine. But, I don't want any more new inmates having trouble in the hole. Get him out of there this morning." He watched as Conley turned to do as he had told him, "Oh, and Conley. I want to see him." Conley nodded as he left. He was the boss. Conley felt that this was a mistake. This guy had an attitude that need adjusting. If Griffin wouldn't do it for him, Conley would just have to do it himself. He felt weak. He hadn't slept well since being sent to solitary. And the food. He needed more protein. Soon. He sat with his back to the wall that opposed the door to his cell when he heard the guards approach. It was no t soon enough for his next meal. Something else was up. The door opened and he had to squint against the light. It nearly blinded him. Conley stepped into the cell. "Stand up, 578236." He stood. "The warden wants to see you. Follow me." Conley turned and Nick followed him out of the cell. As they walked, Conley noted the way that the other inmates now regarded 578236. They had stopped the cat calls. He had managed to earn a kind of respect. He had gotte n the better of Griff. That made him some pretty heavy duty enemies, but it also bought him some influence. He was turning out to be trouble. As soon as the whole investigation into Talvert's death was over, Conley would make certain that 578236 was taught some lessons. They arrived at the warden's office. Nick stood while Conley went in. Within a few minutes Conley ushered him into the office. As he entered, Nick again made sure to avoid the light that streamed through the windows and onto the floor. He waited on Hardesty. Looking up at his newest prisoner, Hardesty again wondered about him. He was cocky. Conley was right. But there was something different about this one. He was perfectly willing to admit to the crime that had sent him the re. He seemed able to deal with what the other inmates dished out to him, so far. He was not what he appeared. "I do not like fights in my prison." Nick regarded the warden with the same neutral expression he had used the last time he faced him. "What do you have to say for yourself, 578236?" The intensity in the prisoner's gaze changed, the warden seemed drawn to him. Nick listened for the sound of his heart beat. He looked deep into his eyes for a moment before he spoke. "You know what happened, don't you?" The sound of that voice filled his mind. He could not help but admit the truth. "Yes." Conley couldn't believe his ears. This conversation was weird. What was the warden doing? "I don't need to tell you about it." That voice had to right. "No." "I've done enough time in the hole." That voice was right, of course. "Yes." "I need to get back to work." That voice was right again. He wanted the prisoner at work when Robertson arrived. "Yes." Nick allowed the intensity of his stare to wane. The sound of the wardens heart beat faded and he replaced the neutral mask he had worn when he arrived in the office. Conley was confused. The warden had told him that he wanted 578236 out of the hole, but, how did 578236 know that? Maybe he was good guesser. Hardesty shook his head slightly. Damn right he needed to get back to work. "I want you at that desk immediately after lunch. This is not a vacation spot, 578236. Now, go clean yourself up." He nodded to Conley. He was surprised to see a confused look on the guards face. "Get him out of here and back to work." He ordered Conley. He just didn't have time to deal with a confused guard. He had work to do before the investigator got there this afternoon. Conley opened the door. "Let's go." Nick turned and left the warden's office. At least he would be able to get back to the computer that afternoon. But, now, he would be able to eat. For the first time in over 700 years, he was looking forward to a meal. Nick was allowed to shower and change before being led to the dining hall. Tiny and Chap were waiting for him at the table. They both shook his hand with smiles on their faces. They were genuinely happy he was out of solitary and told him so. The other inmates had stopped the jeers, he noted. The fight with Griffin had changed the dynamics a little. It remained to be seen exactly how the dynamics had changed, though. Nick knew that Griffin would want revenge. And, Griffin had many followers. His stay in the hole had only been a brief hiatus. This whole thing with Griffin was far from over. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 20) by Carrie Krumtum Almost as soon as he entered the administrative offices he was told he had a visitor. Nick was escorted to the same interview room he had been taken to before. Randy Polchevsky was waiting for him. "How are you?" He asked as soon as the guard left them alone. Knight looked very tired. And he was even more pale than Randy had remembered. He wouldn't have thought that possible. "I'm fine." Nick asserted. He was a little tired, a little weak, but he really was fine. "I'm sorry I didn't get to see you over the weekend. My wife has been ill." "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she is well now." Nick's voice held genuine concern. Randy marveled at him. He was concerned for his wife. "She's much better, thank you." He took the folder and pad out of his briefcase again and placed them on the table between them. It was important that the guard think this was a standard visit between client and attorney. "So, tell me what has happened since I saw you." Nick sat back in his chair. It was easier to rest that way. He really was tired. He recounted the events of the past four days for Polchevsky. Fitzgerald had been assigned mail duty. He scanned all the regular mail and sorted it by department. Then he began to screen the mail sent to the prisoners. Most of it was stuff he was used to seeing, magazines, letter f rom wife and kids. Then he came across the letters for the new inmate, Nick Knight. The letters had been held since he had been in solitary. He decided he would deliver them this evening. Letters from home were just the t hing to boost an inmate after doing time in solitary. "Nick. I think that maybe you should consider letting me pull you out. This Griffin is going to want revenge. As long as you remain on the inside your life is in real danger. He will kill you if he gets the chance. And t here are always other inmates who will be willing to help him." Randy had listened to Nick's story. He had managed to avoid the mill so far. But there was no guarantee that that would remain the case. As soon as Griffin g ot out of solitary, Nick was in for it. "I still think I should stay. I haven't had a chance to try accessing the computer. I will try to either this afternoon or tomorrow. Just give me a few more days. From what I hear, Griffin will be in solitary confinement for another week. That gives me five days of office duty to try and access the files." Nick was feeling a little bit better. Just talking about the investigation made him feel like he was doing something. It was amazing what those days in the hole had done to him. He hadn't been aware how much he missed being involved in something. Anything, but his own thoughts. Randy again listened to him. Nick did have a point. "All right. You can stay. But, I want to see you everyday this week. If there is another hint of trouble, I want to be able to get you out of here. Okay?" Nick nodded. He wasn't crazy about the threat from Griffin either. "Okay." "I'll see you tomorrow then." Randy summoned the guard. Nick stood up. "I'll try to get busy on those files." He shook Polchevsky's hand and waited for the guard. "I've got my work cut out for me." As he entered the administrative offices to begin work on the Health Policy manual again, he listened for the sounds of what was going on in the warden's office. He recognized Fred Robertson's voice. He was asking for fi les of other inmates who had been treated for assault while in prison over the past year. Nick paid close attention to the names he heard mentioned. He would look up these files as well as Billy Talvert's if he got the op portunity. The guard that relieved Conley that afternoon was Hoffman. The guard that had repeatedly asked him his name when he arrived. McCabe had beat him, but Hoffman had tried to indoctrinate him. Nick was allowed to type withou t interruption for the last two hours of his work day. He input his code about one hour before the end of business. He was rewarded with the search screen. He closed the screen and returned to typing the manual. Now, at l east he knew that his code worked in this system. It must run off the same government server. Tomorrow he would start pulling up files. He had a mental list of twelve names as a result of the conversation Robertson had ha d with the warden. Hoffman ordered him to shut down. He was taken back to his cell. Hoffman was in no mood to give him his hour of free time. On arriving in his cell he noted that there was three enveloped waiting for him. They were letters from Nat! Lost free time forgotten, he opened the first letter and poured over it. "Polchevsky says he saw Knight. He is doing just fine. He will be trying to access the inmate files this week." Reese relaxed at that. Nick was fine, and the investigation was moving ahead. He might be coming home soon. "That's good. Thank you for your call." "Your welcome. I'll get back to you in a few days. Good night." "Good night." Reese hung up and immediately dialed the morgue. Nick was doing fine. He knew someone who would like that news even more than he did. '3 April Nick, I really don't know what to write. I've never written to anyone in prison before. I guess I really don't know what to tell you. Work is the same. Cold and unmoving, pretty much. I don't think I could stand much more excitement than that. Once was enough. I hope things are bearable for you. I don't really know how you feel, so I won't insult your intelligence by saying that I do. Whatever you are feeling Nick, whatever it is, I want you to know that my feelings have not changed. They will not change. Do you understand? I was thinking about the last play that we watched. I cried at the end, remember? Well, I know that this play, your play, will end happily. I have to believe that. So, I am not crying now. I do not believe that it will be a sad ending. I only cry for sad endings. I will write again soon. Nat' He picked up the second letter and read it. '4 April Nick, I know I just wrote to you yesterday. I guess I just felt that you might be a little lonely. I know that I feel that way sometimes. I just figured you could use a friendly word. The evening here is lovely. The sunset is beautiful. I am waiting for the day, no matter how far away that may be, that we will be able to watch a sunset together. Perhaps we might also watch a sunrise. Please remember, no matter what you have done, yesterday is past. Today holds promise. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Live in today, Nick. I do. And today, I miss you. Nat' Swallowing at the lump in his throat, he reached for the third letter and tore it open to read it. '5 April Nick, Writing to you is becoming a habit. Not a bad habit, like an addiction. Nothing I need to feel guilty about. I have had addictions. Things I have tried to give up. The struggle to be free is the hardest thing I think. It takes courage. Great courage. Sometimes, I'm not sure I have that courage. Sometimes I feel as if I would rather give up than to continue the struggle another day. I really have no choice but to continue to be free. What would be the point of my life if I could not believe that one day I would be free. Free to spend my life with the rest of humanity, also free. I know you probably share my fears and feelings. It is comforting to me to know that someone else appreciates the struggles I go through, even if they don't always understand fully the depths of my pain. I am glad that you are there for me. As long as you are, I will be here for you. That is what friendship is all about. Remember, I believe in you. I will always believe in you, Nick. Nat' All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 21) by Carrie Krumtum "I do understand your pain. Believe it or not. How can I not? I have seen all of the darkness of life. The bitter rejections. The half truths of intimacy. The loneliness of togetherness. How we deceive ourselves..." What possessed her to tune him in, anyway? His little visit was still affecting her. Nat had not been able to shake her fears that something might be really wrong with Nick. She had written Nick everyday hoping to reassure him, comfort him. She was completely unaware of what he was going through in there. And her ignorance only made her fears that much worse. Yeah, that Polchevsky guy says Nick's all right. But he doesn't know anything about Nick. If she could just see him, his pallor, his eyes, she'd know whether or not he was all right. She'd know... "The true miracle is that we manage to attain any type of intimacy at all. The labyrinth of our emotions trap us, all too often..." Sleep finally came to him. He was so tired. He had finally given up rereading her letters when the light in his cell went out. He slept without nightmares, without dreams. He just slept. Vachon was sitting on her couch when she got up that evening. She had stopped being annoyed at his uninvited arrivals to her apartment. It had become an almost daily occurrence since Nick had been gone. Not that she didn't want Vachon there, she had to admit that she did. It was just the suddenness of his change in behavior. She had even asked him about it. He didn't answer her. A shrug was as elaborate as he got on the subject. Oh, well, maybe she should just be happy with the turn of events, at least, in her life. She still had a nagging bad feeling about Nick. The hole in the door flipped open. Griff stood up and approached the opening. "It's about time you got the duty." Hoffman just smiled. "How much you offering?" "What ever it takes. I want his white ass. I owe him, big time." "Okay, a c-note." "You got it. When?" "Not tonight. Fitzgerald is on. I'll let you know when he's off next. I have to check the schedule. Just sit tight." "I'll sit tight. Just make sure no one else finds out. Not even McCabe. Oh, and I need you to give Hully a message for me..." "Isn't it curious how we allow ourselves to be fooled into believing we are close to someone? That we actually know them? Are known by them? Loved by them? It has been my experience that there is no such thing as true love. Humans find it very nearly impossible to be true. True to themselves, or true to anyone else. "What about you my friend? May I call you my friend? Perhaps you are not. In any case, I will be your friend. Because I am the Nightcrawler. I am a friend to all. And I will always be true to you. Always." "Turn out!" He rose and exited his cell, standing on the yellow line. "Fall out!" Turning with the rest of the inmates on his tier he headed for the dining hall. The sleep he had had last night had done him some good. He felt a little more rested this morning. This morning, that must be the problem. It had been over 700 years since he was in the habit of rising in the morning. No wonder he couldn't rest well. "Sweet boy!" Hully whispered to the newbe in front of him as they walked. "Punk! You know you're going to die, don't ya? Griff has one more week left. One week until the end, sweet boy. Count the days." He laughed. Goading the new guy for Griff was going to be a pleasure. It was the very least he could do. The hounds owed this bastard for hitting Griff. There was no revenge like joint revenge. He listened to the threats from Hully. He was one of the hounds. Nick knew he had to avoid any incidents with them until Griffin got out. With luck, by that time he'd be gone. He would try to start accessing files today. Tiny and Chap were waiting for him when he sat down with his breakfast. Eggs, toast and coffee seemed, again, to be the only edible items for him on the menu. "You look better." Chap noted. "Thanks. I feel better. Solitary is no place to go for your health." Tiny laughed. "Don't I know it. Just watch your back, Nick. Griff will be after revenge." Nick nodded, "Yeah, I've already been warned." "Take it to heart then, my friend. Take it to heart." Chap said. He had been praying awful hard for Nick. So far, things hadn't really been that bad for him. But, then, this whole thing wasn't over yet... The first file he tried to access was Billy Talvert's. He minimized the document window he was supposed to be working on and then created a custom keystroke sequence to maximize it whenever he needed to. Talvert's file contained all the necessary documents to prove that the Sexual Assault Prevention protocol had been followed. He then pulled up the classification report. It was dated the day of Talvert's arrival. Nick then checked the file directory for the date and time of the files development. It was dated the day after Nick arrived. Nearly two months after the classification supposedly took place. This was the key. If classification interviews weren't being done then no precautions were being taken to protect the inmates. No official protection anyway. Billy Talvert and every other new inmate that entered that prison was fair game for Griff and the hounds, or, any other prison gang in power within a certain cell block. Robertson needed to obtain a warrant for the data storage system, not the printed files. Still, a warrant might take a few days. He called up the next assault victims file... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 22) by Carrie Krumtum "So how long do you think it might take?" Polchevsky shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure if we have enough for Judge Keating. He's pretty tough when it comes to data searches. But, I'll take what we've got to him, in person, tomorrow morning." "There's something else." Randy gave the detective his full attention. "I haven't been classified yet. At least I haven't been interviewed. If there is a report of the interview in my file...well, all we would need then is my testimony." Nick hadn't even considered this idea until he had spoken with Tiny and Chap at lunch. Neither of them had been interviewed either. They were already in prison when the protocol had been instituted, but the policy specifically called for all inmates to be classified. Those already in the institution as well as new arrivals. The protocol had been instituted in February of 1995. Plenty of time to get all of the inmates in the institution. Randy nodded. "Yes. That's good Nick. I can have Fred ask for your file. If they fake the report to complete it before giving to him, then, we'd at least have that." He smiled. This was a very good idea. "That's real good, Nick. I'm impressed." Nick leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, well, don't be too impressed yet. We still have to get the warrant. Who knows, maybe the warden will not complete my file and claim," he shook his head as if searching for the right excuse, "extraordinary circumstances. I did manage to get myself thrown into solitary on my second day in here. That's got to be a record." Randy laughed. He liked Nick. "Well, I'm still impressed." He prepared to call the guard. "Do you need anything?" Nick sighed. He hungered. "Just a decent meal." "Soon. I'll have to have my wife cook dinner for you. She's a great cook." Nick shook his head. "Thanks." Conley opened the door to usher Nick back to his work station. Randy called to him as he left the room, "I'll let you know what I find out." Looking at a computer screen all day can really make you tired, he thought. His legs felt weak and he was a little dizzy. He had opted to just return to his cell for his rec time. Fitzgerald had informed him that he had another letter waiting for him. Sure enough, when he arrived at his cell there was another envelope on his bunk. He sat down and read it immediately. Fitzgerald smiled as he closed the door to his cell. It was one of the few pleasures these men had left. Receiving mail from loved ones. And by the looks on Nick's face, this was someone he loved deeply. '6 April Nick, I've been working on recipes for your favorite drinks. I just know how you love them. I'm trying to make them taste even better. Just for you. I'll let you sample it when we visit next time. Work is steady. Joe and Tracy send you their best wishes. They are concerned for you in there, as I am. We all miss you, Nick. I guess you never really know how much you appreciate someone until they are away from you. Boy, is that ever true for Tracy. And me. Please remember, you are not alone. Never alone. Nat' "Tomorrow night. Fitzgerald has the next two nights off." Griff smiled. "All right. Did you give Hully my message?" "Yeah." "Good. I need you to send him one more." Hoffman gave him an incredulous glance. "I'm not your messenger boy." "Look, I'm paying you enough. All you have to do is give him a little note..." Chap was putting the books away like he always did before he went to dinner. He had just about finished when he heard the door open. Looking up he noted Hully and three other hounds enter the library, without a guard. "I'm here to ask you to deliver a message, old man." Hully was laughing. Chap backed away from the other inmates as they flanked him and Hully approached. "Tell the newby that his ass is ours." He nodded to the other men. They grabbed Chap by both arms. "And, to put the point across, we thought we'd let YOU know just how serious we are..." Besides feeling the pain, Chap heard the laughter. God, how Hully laughed.... Nick noted the smile on Hully's face as they lined up for dinner outside their cells. "Do you remember, punk? Six days, sweet boy, six days." Hully laughed all the way to the dining hall. He sat down at his usual place. Tiny and Chap were not there yet. He looked at his try. The nausea seemed even worse this evening than usual. Regardless of what was on his tray, he wasn't sure he would be able to eat a bite. He had gotten water to drink. At least that didn't seem to bother him. He had taken his second drink of the water when Tiny sat down. "Nick." Tiny looked at him with open concern on his face. "What is it?" "They got Chap." "Chap? What do you mean they got him?" "They pitched him. He was beat pretty bad, too. He was in the infirmary when I got my medicine. He looks bad, Nick. All bruised up." Tiny watched as the usual passive look on his new friends face dissolved into a darkness that surprised him. The change in Nick was so drastic that it scared him a little. "Who?" Nick's voice was filled with rage. Tiny inclined his head toward Hully and a few other hounds who ate a table across the room. "Griff's hounds." Nick placed his hands on the table to rise. Tiny knew instinctively what Nick meant to do. He reached across the table with one long arm and grabbed Nick by the wrist. "Don't." Turning to Tiny he was barely able to keep from emitting a low growl. "Why not?" "That won't help Chap now. They were sending you a message. Chap will only be hurt worse, or killed. You have to deal with Griff directly. And you can't do that until he gets out of the hole." Tiny was trying to talk sense into him. Nick would start a war right there in the dining hall if he wasn't careful. With all the hounds in there, he wouldn't have a chance. "You don't have a prayer in hell of living if you start something in here, now." Nick regarded Tiny as he slowly relaxed back. Tiny released his hold on his wrist. Tiny was partially right. Nick might not be killed, but others might. Chap had been nothing more than a warning to him. Damn. Chap. Damn! All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 23) by Carrie Krumtum LaCroix was in the middle of a conversation with his bartender when he felt the first changes in the link from his son. Nicholas was angry, really angry. He smiled. Whatever Nicholas was doing, he was coming back to his senses. The feelings of isolation and despair had nearly vanished during the past few days. And now, anger. He wasn't so sure this meant he no longer need to be concerned, however, it did signal an improvement in the situation. Anger was easier to track. Back in his cell, his hunger and weakness forgotten, he thought about Chap. Nick couldn't help but feel guilty for what had happened to him. Griff was ruthless. And he had a lot of followers. Chap's only crime was befriending him. If Nick had just stayed to himself, not allowed anyone to get close to him, this would have never happened. When he got out, he would have to make sure both Tiny and Chap were transferred to another cell block. Griff might have power in this cell block, but his reach couldn't penetrate everywhere. At least, Nick hoped not. He would deal with Griff. All he had to do was wait. Morning came slowly. He hadn't really slept. As he took his place on the line outside his cell, he again noticed the grin on Hully's face. Nick made sure his expression remained carefully neutral. Hully would have to face him soon enough. He ate breakfast in silence. Tiny must have realized that being his friend was hazardous, he didn't join him for the meal. Nick was only able to eat a few bites off his tray. It was a relief to be led into the administrative offices. All those heart beats in the dining hall seemed to pound at him. At least in the office, there were fewer hearts to have to try to ignore. Setting about the work of typing the policies from the manual into the computer, Nick waited for the opportunity to once again access the inmate files. It wasn't until two o'clock that afternoon that Fred Robertson arrived. Nick listened to the conversation that he had with Hardesty. Robertson had called last night to request the files for the last five inmates that had been transferred to the prison. Nick knew that he had requested five in order to protect his cover. Hardesty had the files waiting for Robertson. There was a period of silence that Nick assumed was the time Robertson spent reviewing the files. "Everything seems to be in order." Robertson was saying. "I knew it would be. We take the work we do here very seriously, Mr. Robertson. Is there anything else I can do for you this afternoon?" Hardesty said, smoothly. "No. Thank you for all your help, Warden. You have been of immeasurable assistance in our investigation." "My pleasure. It is always a tragedy when an inmate is injured or killed by another." "Yes, it is." Robertson's voice seemed to be moving. The door to the warden's office opened and both men stood in the doorway. "You will let me see the final report, won't you?" Hardesty prompted Robertson. "Most definitely. Good afternoon, Warden." Robertson shook the warden's hand and left the office. The warden returned to his office and closed the door. "You were right on, Nick." Randy Polchevsky told him. "Fred found a classification report in your file." Nick didn't seem to be listening to him. "Nick?" He was listening. Just not with much interest. Hardesty had sealed his fate with the bogus report in Nick's file. What concerned Nick was how the guards would be handled. They were the ones that, by and large, allowed the assaults to occur inside the prison. They would have to be dealt with as well. "What about the guards?" "What?" Randy was confused. Nick seemed agitated about something. "Nick, has something happened?" Nick told him about Chap, Hully and his feelings about the guards. Randy listened to Nick talk about the inmate who was assaulted yesterday. Nick really cared about this whole thing. Of course he did. That was why he had taken the assignment in the first place. "Look, Nick, as soon as Hardesty is removed, the Solicitor General will send a team in here to assess the administrative practices and then find a suitable replacement to fix any problems they find." "Great, just great. And in the mean time, the same corrupt foxes are allowed to guard the hen house? Who's going to protect Chap or others like him? Someone has got to care about them. Just because their convicted felons doesn't mean you throw them to the wolves." Randy held his hands up. "Whoa. Whoa. I'm on your side. I agree with you, Nick." He tried to take a conciliatory tone, "I promise you, we will deal with this swiftly. I saw Judge Keating this morning. I think we may have that warrant as early as tomorrow." Nick nodded. It would have to do. He was as aware as anyone, that if this whole thing wasn't done by the book, all their efforts would be for naught. If there was to be criminal charges brought out of this, and Nick would make sure that there were, then he had to do this through the right channels. "I know. I know." With effort, he forced himself to calm down. "Nick," Randy fixed him with a concerned stare. "I can take you out of here today if you want." "No, no." Nick shook his head. "That might make Hardesty suspicious. After you have the warrant. I leave AFTER you get the warrant." "Okay." Randy motioned for the guard. "I'll have a team in here as soon as I have it. Hang in there, Nick. We've got 'em." Nick stood and shook Polchevsky's hand. "Let's just make sure that we do." Nick left with the guard. Randy looked after him and felt very, very glad that he was one of the good guys. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 24) by Carrie Krumtum He decided to go to his cell for his rec time. Chap wouldn't be in the library anyway. Hoffman had refused to allow him to see Chap in the infirmary. This time, there were two letters waiting for him. Nat's letters were the brightest spot in his universe. It was uncanny how she was able to speak to him. Even at this distance. He took up the first one to read it. '7 April Nick, Hope you are well. I guess I'm feeling a little guilty. You're in prison, and I'm out here, free. Guilt is a funny thing. It seems to crop up in the most unusual circumstances. While I know full well that it is not my fault that you are in prison, I can't help but feel guilty about it. I'm sure you understand what I mean. Sometimes we have just got to let go of our guilt. There are some situations that we cannot prevent. I had no way of knowing that the circumstances of your life would lead you to prison. There would be no way I could have changed that. Things are more commonly out of our control than they are in our control. But I'm probably not telling you anything you don't already know. Still, it is harder to put such things into practice, isn't it. So, in the spirit of our friendship, I pledge to try to be rid of my feelings of guilt if you are willing to give up yours. What say you? As always, I am your friend in caring and concern. Nat' Shaking his head he reached for the second letter. It truly was uncanny. '8 April Nick, I was just thinking about my last letter to you. Nick, I don't know everything that you may have done. I don't think it is important that I do. It will never change the way I feel about you. What counts, what has always counted, is what you believe. What you really want. For me, there is no other way to think of you. The person you are now, the person you want to be. That is the person who I see, that I want to know. Pasts are just that. Past. No, it does not diminish the impact on us, on our lives. But it does give us a perspective from which to view our decisions now. And I chose to be your friend, now. No matter what might lie in your past. I know you would be willing to argue this with me. Don't bother. I won't accept your arguments. You are important to my life. Nothing can change that now. Nothing. What ever you are going through now, please try to remember, I am here for you. I will be here for you. Nat' He gently folded the letters and placed them back into their envelopes. He then placed them, along with the book from the prison library, on the ledge above the sink. Lying down on his bunk, he tried to picture her in his mind. He could remember her, standing in the sunlight, on his one day in the sun. A day she had given to him. He smiled. She had tried to give him the sun back. She was still trying. Even now. The door to his cell swung open and Griffin followed the guard out of solitary. He had paid a lot for this moment of revenge. Hully should have done his job. The bastard shouldn't be expecting anything for three more days. This was going to be good. "Turn out, 578236." The door to his cell was unlocked and slid open. He rose from his bunk and staggered into the wall. He was a little dizzy and he wasn't so sure his legs would keep him up. He waited for the room to stop spinning before standing up away from the wall. "What's wrong with you?" Hoffman demanded. "Nothing. I'm fine." Nick felt a little better after he was up for a minute. Hoffman shrugged. "It's your turn in the shower. Get out of your clothes and let's go." He nodded and then stripped to his underwear, picked up his bar of soap and his towel and then followed Hoffman to the showers on the ground floor. As he walked he listened to the heart beats of the other men in the cell block. He was weak. It was a good thing he was getting out of there in a few days. The amount of protein he was eating wasn't meeting his needs. He had not had blood in over ten days. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the his hunger. Upon entering the shower room he noted that there were ten other inmates showering. Hoffman joined the two guards who were already in the room. The other inmates ignored him as he entered. He picked a shower head along the east wall and headed for it. He removed his underwear and stepped under the shower head. Turning the water on he felt the warm water cascade down his back. It felt good. It was a few minutes before he realized that the hubbub in the showers had begun to die down. He turned around to see that Hoffman and the other two guards had disappeared. He tensed as three of the inmates in the showers left, the remaining seven were joined by maybe a dozen or more. They were all staring at him, smiling. Then he heard Hully's laugh. Hully entered the shower room followed by Griffin and another group of men. "You didn't think that you would escape me, did ya punk?" Griffin looked around at the other inmates in the room. "We all have come to welcome you." Griffin began to laugh. They all began to laugh. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This portion of the story may be unsuitable for children. Violence follows... This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 25) by Carrie Krumtum "We expect to get him out of there in another day or so." Fred Robertson informed him. "That's very good news." Joe Reese was genuinely glad to hear it. He hadn't been able to stop worrying about his detective since he had left the precinct. "Thank you for calling to tell me." "Happy to do it, Captain. Knight has been the key to the whole investigation. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't get a commendation for this. The Solicitor General is most appreciative." "I'm sure he deserves it." "Yes, he does. Well, good night Captain Reese." "Good night. And thanks again." Reese hung up the phone and breathed a small sigh of relief. Looking out at the squad room he saw Tracy wasn't at her desk. He would have to wait to tell her the news. He sat at the master board preparing the lead in for his monologue when he felt it. Nicholas' feelings had been nearly absent all day. It was as if he were far away, or dead. But now, he sensed his fear. It was as strong as a physical blow. He could no longer ignore what he sensed from his son. He had to find him. Tonight. He cued the music reel and took to the air. She could feel herself smile. "That's great. Thanks for calling." The captain had just told her that Nick might be back in a day or so. She could hardly wait. Rising from her desk she headed back to the microscope to finish the analysis of the hair follicles she was working on. She felt the rush of air before she saw him. LaCroix stood in front of her. He wasted no time coming to the point. "Tell me where he is." It took her a moment to realize what he had said to her. "I thought we had this discussion already." The look on his face was menacing. "I will not ask you again. His life may be in danger. Tell me. Where is he?" He spoke between clenched teeth. Natalie was scared. Not for herself, although LaCroix was intimidating as hell, but for Nick, because she knew that LaCroix was telling her the truth. This wasn't a game. "What's wrong? What have you sensed?" "He is afraid. And he is weak." He watched as she headed to her desk. "He's in a prison." She wrote the address down on a slip of paper. "Here." She swallowed as she handed the address to him. Taking the address from her he fixed her with his eyes. "Remember, doctor, I will hold YOU responsible if he is harmed." With that, he was gone. There had to be more than thirty of them. The men closest to him began to flank him in a semicircle. Several of them brandished hand made blades. One held a lead pipe. Another had a length of chain. He still felt very weak. Several of the men who flanked him attacked simultaneously. He grabbed the first hand that swung into range and threw the man into several other attackers. The effort threw him into the wall behind him. In an instant he was covered with bodies. His eyes blazed hot gold and he emitted a loud growl as he pushed upward against the press of men who tried to pin him to the wall. He threw them all back and spun to meet the next wave of the attack. He never saw the man who hit him. The blow landed behind his left ear. The lights in the room seemed to dim slowly as all the motion in the room slowed. He slumped to the floor. He felt the second blow hit his right temple. As the pain explode in his head, the world went black. Reese had just hung up with her. How did Nat know Nick was in trouble? "But, I just got done talking to you. How...?" "PLEASE! Don't ask me how I know. He is in real trouble. Captain, you've got to help him." She was trembling. "All right, I'll call Fred Robertson." She hung up and rushed from the morgue. God, she prayed as she ran, please, don't let anything happen to him. "What!? How did you hear he was in trouble?" Fred Robertson was having a hard time figuring out what Reese was telling him. "Look, we don't have the time to talk about this. You need to get someone over to that cell block. NOW!" "All right. I'll get on it. But this better be real. If we go waltzing in there tonight, we might blow the whole thing." "I don't give a damn about the investigation. If my detective is in some kind of trouble somebody over there had better get on it!" "Okay." That's all Reese wanted to hear. He hung up. Tracy was out. Maybe that was best. If this was nothing, it would be better not to get her upset. She had been making noise about having a bad feeling concerning Nick since he took this damn assignment. Hell, Reese had felt uncomfortable with it himself. He shook his head. Damn. He sure prayed that this was nothing. He knew deep down that it wasn't. Damn! He became aware of the pain in head, then the pain in his rectum, then his inability to breath well. He was laid over a bench. His hands were secured behind him with the chain. He was being raped. An inmate stood in front of him with both his hands griping his head by the hair. Another inmate stood behind him. He was very weak. He tried to struggle and was struck in the back. The pain exploded anew in his left shoulder. His vision was limited to the abdomen of the inmate who stood in front of him. He felt the pain in his rectum wane, but only for a moment. As soon as the inmate who had been raping him stepped back, another took his place. Through it all, he could hear the sound of Griffin's laugh. "I don't care who you have to get clearance from. In about five minutes several units from the RCMP and the SG's office will be pulling into the yard. Knight had better be in his cell and healthy when they arrive." Robertson told the guard who answered the phone. He didn't wait for a reply. Hanging up the phone he grabbed his keys. Damn. He just prayed that Knight was all right. This was a risky investigation from the beginning. It was paying off, but, if Knight was injured it wouldn't look very good to the Solicitor General. Time didn't seem to have much meaning for him. As the inmate that was in front of him stepped back and his mouth was empty again he gasped. Then he threw up. Griff grabbed the top of his head and pulled his head up. "I told you you're ass was mine. Now, sweet ass, you're going to die." Griff released his hold on his hair and his head fell forward. The pain in his rectum had begun to wane again. Someone kicked him in the side and he fell sideways onto the floor. He couldn't see who it was that knelt in front of him. Everything was a blur. The next thing he felt was the sharp searing pain in his chest as he was stabbed. He thought he heard alarms as the room faded away. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 26) by Carrie Krumtum The scene in the yard of the prison was sufficiently chaotic. Nicholas had been injured. Mortally, if LaCroix didn't reach him very soon. Landing only feet away from the guard, who was shouting behind him at the milling group of officers, correctional, RCMP and a few LaCroix couldn't identify, he tapped the young man on the shoulder to get his attention. "Where is the injured man?" He placed an all business, superior inflection in his tone. He was not to be questioned. "I believe they have taken him to the infirmary, sir." The guard had no idea who this man was. With all the officials from the SG's office and the RCMP there, he had completely lost track of who was who. This guy was not happy. He must be with the SG's office. "I will see to him. NOW." He fixed the guard with a stare and listened for his heart beat. "Yes, sir." The guard opened the door and let the official in. Damn. She was travelling as fast as her car would carry her towards the prison. It was nearly an hour away from the city. If she did the distance at top speed, she could make it in 35 minutes. Nick could die in that time. For the second time since she had known Nick, she was glad that LaCroix would be there to help him. If LaCroix COULD help him. She prayed, with all of her might, that he would be able to. Once inside the yard door he disappeared. Traveling faster than the mortal eye could follow, he hunted through the corridors of the building, passing through locked doors as they opened and closed to allow unsuspecting mortals through. It was only moments until he arrived in the infirmary. He drove toward the prison with sirens and lights blaring. "What do you mean you don't know how he is!" Reese shouted over the phone at the guard who was answering his call. "I want to speak with Fred Robertson. Got that! Fred Robertson!" Damn guard didn't even know what the hell was going on in his own prison. Nicholas lay on a gurney attended by a nurse. He was so pale that LaCroix feared he might be too late. The link they shared still vibrated, but so quietly that LaCroix knew there was no time to lose. Approaching the nurse he stamped his foot to announce his arrival. "Are you a doctor?" The nurse had never seen the man who had just arrived before. Fixing the nurse with his gaze and listening for the heart beat, he began, "I will care for him now. Everyone else must be kept away from here. The patients life depends on the care I can give him. Do you understand?" "Yes doctor. His life depends on it." "Good. Leave us." The nurse left the bedside. The gurney was parked at a health station along what appeared to be a triage area. LaCroix pulled the privacy curtains completely closed and turned to assess the injuries to his son. "You fool, Nicholas. See what your play acting at mortality has done to you?" She entered the precinct with her partner. The captain wasn't in his office. Ed Rhoades got himself a cup of coffee and sat down to begin work on the shift reports. Tracy had told him that she really didn't appreciate having to do them each and every shift without his help. It wasn't all that long ago that she had tried to give Nick the same speech. It went much better with Ed. As she came around the desk to sit down, her phone rang. "Vetter," she answered. It was Grace. "Tracy. Have you seen Natalie? Someone said she ran out of here like the building was on fire. Is there something going on over there?" "No Grace, I haven't seen her, but I just walked in. If you hold on though I'll check with someone else." She cupped her hand over the phone and turned to another detective in the squad room, Ray Graves. "Hey Ray, has Natalie been in here recently?" Ray looked up at her and shook his head. "No, not that I know of. But I think the captain was talking to her on the phone before he left." "He left? Do you know where?" "Don't know that either." He shrugged and returned his attention to the report he was working on. "Ah, I guess not Grace," she spoke back into the phone. "Ray said that the captain may have spoken with her on the phone a while ago, but she hasn't been here." Grace sighed. "Ookay. Guess I'll just have to wait for a decision on that PCR boost then. Thanks." "Your welcome." She hung up wondering what would make both the captain and Natalie disappear at the same time. Nick! It dawned on her as she began to sit down in her chair. What if this had something to do with Nick? "Oh my God." Ed looked up at his partner. "Trace? Something wrong?" "I don't know. I think Nick might be in some kind of trouble." The blade that had been used to stab him was made of some kind of plastic. The wound around the blade had not begun to heal. He wasn't sure if he should remove it. He left it inplace for now. There was blood in his mouth and blood on the sheets beneath his buttocks. His wrists were severely bruised and he had a wound on his right temple. None of these wounds appeared to have healed at all. He was frightened. It had been far too long since Nicholas had last fed. Biting his wrist he placed the open and bleeding wound to his son's mouth and allowed the blood to drip into his throat. He watched to see if Nicholas would swallow. He watched. Nothing. Nicholas was too weak to swallow. Looking around the area he found a sterile packaged scalpel. Opening it and picking up Nicholas' right arm, he made on incision across the radial artery. He duplicated the incision on his own arm and placed the wounds together. He could feel his life's blood flowing into his son's body. There was still life left in him. It took long, agonizing minutes for him to begin to feel any strengthening at all in Nicholas across their link. He continued to allow his life's blood to pour across the wounds into his son. As he did he heard the arrival of several men in the infirmary. "I'm sorry sir, you can't go in there, " the nurse was telling the intruders. "I want to see Knight," one of them demanded. "The doctor is with him now. You cannot disturb him. The patient's life is at stake." There was a brief pause. LaCroix's eyes flared gold and he emitted a low growl. "As soon as it is possible, I want to see him. Tell the doctor to call me as soon as I can see Knight." The same voice said. "I will, sir." The foot steps faded back away from the infirmary. He spoke back into the phone he carried as he walked back up the hall from the infirmary. "The doctor is with him right now. I can't see him. As soon as the doctor is through he'll call me." "I'll be there in another thirty minutes." Reese told Robertson. "I think our M.E. is on her way there as well. Can you arrange it so she can assist with his care?" "Dr. Lambert?" "Yeah. She's the one that tipped me that there was something wrong out there." Robertson shook his head as he walked. How the hell did she know? He guessed it really didn't matter right now. He would find out when she got there. "I'll have the gate guard bring her to the infirmary as soon as she arrives." All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 27) by Carrie Krumtum It had taken her exactly 32 minutes to make it to the prison. She had counted every second of the time. Pulling up behind the other cars in the yard, she vaulted out of hers almost before it came to a complete stop. She ran to the guard who stood at the yard door. "I'm Dr. Lambert. I have to see Detective Knight." "Yes ma'am." The guard responded. "I just need to see some I.D. and then someone will escort you to the infirmary." She was surprised that getting in to see Nick was this easy. She handed the guard her M.E. office identification badge. Her purse was still on her desk in the morgue. The guard looked at it briefly and then opened the door for her. With a word to another guard inside the door he ushered her into the prison. "Please follow this guard Dr. Lambert. He'll take you to the infirmary," the guard told her. She nodded her head and followed the other guard into the institution that had been Nick's world for the past several days. Nicholas swallowed. He was sure he had seen Nicholas swallow. The wound at his right temple had begun to heal. LaCroix was weak. He had given his son as much of his own blood as he dared. It was fortuitous that he had fed just before sitting down to prepare for his monologue. Still, he could not spare much more of his own blood and Nicholas still required a good deal more. He laid Nicholas' arm back down on the gurney and looked at the wound in his chest again. She noted the curtained area immediately upon arriving. Heading for it, she was intercepted by a male nurse. "I'm sorry, you can't go over there." The nurse told her. "I'm Dr. Lambert. I'm here to see Detective Knight." LaCroix knew it would be better for Dr. Lambert to remove the offending blade from Nicholas' chest that for him to attempt it. He stepped around the curtain and addressed the nurse. "Allow Dr. Lambert in. I have need of her assistance." The nurse stepped aside and Natalie rushed forward to look around the curtain at the patient on the gurney. "Oh my God." The first thing she noted was the pallor of his skin. He was so pale. She didn't detect any respiration's at first. Nick was just barely alive. Even by vampire standards. He needed blood. Lots of it. The second thing she noted was the blade in his chest. That and the blood on the sheets beneath him and around his mouth. The blood around his mouth must be LaCroix's, she thought. She looked up at him. He was pale, for him, as well. LaCroix regarded her with passive rage. "He will need the blade removed from his chest. I think it would be better for you to do it, doctor." "Yes. Yes of course." She returned her attention to her new patient. The wound around the blade showed little sign of healing. He would need blood first. "He needs blood." "I'm afraid I've given him all I can." LaCroix informed her. She looked back at him. "And it has probably saved his life. But, before I can remove this," she pointed to the blade, "he will need more. A lot more." She stepped back from behind the curtain and spotted the nurse. "Nurse?" The nurse moved towards her. "Yes, doctor?" "This is a complete hospital facility, isn't it?" "Yes, it is." She thought quickly. "Look. We need to move the patient to a more...sterile area. Is there an operating room?" "It's just up the hall..." The nurse began. She interrupted him. "Fine, we'll take him there to remove the blade from his wound. We will also need blood. Where is the blood bank?" "We'll need to type and cross him first..." "No. We don't have time for that. I want you to go and bring me all the O negative you have. Do you understand? ALL of it. HURRY." "But what about the policy..." The nurse objected. LaCroix stepped up next to Natalie and stared into the nurse's face. He could hear his heart's every beat. "You will do as Dr. Lambert had instructed you. Do it now." The nurse nodded. "O negative. All of it." He moved off. Natalie pulled the curtain back and kicked at the brake on the gurney. "We've got to get him to a more private area. The OR should have everything we need. I can't believe the prison physician hasn't arrived before now." She began to pull at the gurney to move Nick to the operating room. The gurney moved much easier than she had anticipated. Looking up she noted that LaCroix was helping her. They reached the door that was labeled 'OR' and went in just as the nurse arrived with several units of blood. Natalie positioned the gurney in the center of the surgical suite and turned to the nurse. "Start an IV of saline." The nurse set the blood on the foot of the gurney and wordlessly left to get the supplies necessary to comply with her order. She picked up one of the units and handed it to LaCroix. She noted the brief look of surprise on his face. It was quickly veiled by the hard mask he had shone her on her arrival. "I think Nicholas needs this more than I do." "Yes, he does." She replied, now inspecting the wound on Nick's chest under the surgical lamp. "Put, I don't need to have to try and care for you as well." He raised his eyebrows slightly but made no other comment. Biting into a corner of the bag he drained the contents in just a few seconds. He deposited the empty bag in his pocket just before the nurse returned with the IV supplies. Natalie had found some gloves, antiseptic and gauze in the cabinets that lined the back wall of the surgical suite. Opening the bottle of antiseptic, a benzoiodide solution, she pour the antiseptic directly over the wound. She did it out of a force of habit. Nick wasn't likely to get an infection. But, it was the way she had been taught to practice medicine. Besides, the nurse would have thought it strange if she hadn't sterilized the area. After the antiseptic, she applied the gauze bandages to the wound. The nurse had the saline running in Nick's left arm by the time she finished applying the dressing to his chest wound. "Go find out where the prison physician is." She ordered him. "Right away, doctor," the nurse replied. He left them alone again. She immediately removed the saline from the IV line and connected the first bag of blood. "Here," she handed the bag to LaCroix. "Squeeze this." LaCroix took the blood bag silently and did as he was told. Dr. Lambert was doing exactly what Nicholas needed. Giving him the blood before opening the wound in his chest by removing the blade. He squeezed the bag until it was empty. Without prompting, he connected the next blood bag to the tubing and began to squeeze it as well. She noted that LaCroix seemed to know what to, so, she turned her attention to assessing Nick's other wounds. He had a wound to his right temple. This was beginning to heal. The blood was helping. He had bruising around both wrists. She opened his mouth and noted the excoriation in the back of his throat. Oh God, she thought. He has been raped. The blood on the sheets beneath him must have come from his rectum. God. She took a deep breath. He wasn't bleeding now. Her biggest priority was getting the blade out of his chest. She didn't have much more time before the other physician arrived. She had to get the blade out and the wound dressed before anyone else saw Nick. It was the only way to protect him from suspicion. LaCroix was giving Nick a fourth unit of blood. Pulling back the gauze she noted that the wound around the blade had finally begun to heal. She went to the cabinets again and found some forceps and more gauze bandages. She carefully removed the blade from the wound, wincing at the sucking sound it made as it came free from Nick's chest cavity. She quickly packed the open wound with a roll of gauze and moved back to the cabinet to find a specimen basin to place the blade in. The blade would be valuable evidence. It held the fingerprints of the man who stabbed Nick. Turning back to the wound she noted that the gauze packing had not been saturated with blood. Nick was beginning to heal more quickly. She removed the packing and placed a compression bandage over the wound, wrapping the gauze around his chest with LaCroix's help. Once that was completed she cleaned and dressed the wound on his temple. LaCroix had finished giving him the last unit of blood, disposing of the empty bags in his pocket, and had rehung the saline on the IV line. She looked at him. "Help me turn him on his side." LaCroix did as he was asked. The bleeding from his rectum had stopped. Using the antiseptic solution followed by some saline solution she had found in the cabinet, she cleaned away the blood. The area was badly torn and excoriated, but, it was beginning to heal as well. While LaCroix held Nick, she replaced the sheet under him with a clean surgical table drape. They carefully rolled Nick back onto his back and she began to clean the blood away from around his mouth and off his face when they both heard the voices come from down the hall. Looking up at LaCroix, she said, "You better get out of here before anyone else sees you." He regarded her for a brief moment. "We still have unfinished business, doctor." "I haven't forgotten." She returned his gaze. "Now, get out of here." LaCroix hesitated for the briefest of seconds and then was gone. She had just bent back to continuing cleaning up Nick's face when the prison physician entered the surgical suite. LaCroix stopped the nurse outside the OR. The nurse hadn't even seen him exit the room. "You have never seen me." The nurse shook his head. He was standing in the empty hallway outside the OR. He felt like there was something he forgot. Whatever it was, it would come back to him if it was important. He followed the prison physician into the operating room. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 28) by Carrie Krumtum Information and news travel with incredible speed in prison. Faster than any information service. Joint speed. Tiny sat in his cell as the guards checked each and every inmate's cell during the lock down. Nick had been through the mill and had been shanked. He was probably dead. Tiny shook his head. Nick had been an unusual man. He had treated Tiny with a kind of respect that just didn't happen in the joint. Beyond all of that, he had heard that Nick was a cop. An undercover cop. Here to investigate the warden. Shit. Tiny was beginning to like him. And he was a cop for crying out loud. Still, the anger he had seen in Nick after he found out about Chap had been real. Very real. But, a cop. Man, what a crock of bullshit this all was. Reese pulled into the yard and parked next to the only car he recognized. Dr. Lambert's. He approached the guard at the yard door. "Officer, I'm Captain Reese, Metro Police." The guard had obviously been told to expect him. "Yes sir, Captain. I just need to see you I.D. sir, and then I've been instructed to escort you to the warden's office." Reese nodded and pulled out his badge. "Okay. Do you know how Detective Knight is doing?" "No sir." The guard handed his badge back to him. "Please, just follow this guard." Reese would have to wait to get his answers. He was out of patience. Someone had dropped the ball. And for that, there was hell to pay... "Who are you?" The prison physician demanded as he entered the OR. "I'm Dr. Lambert. I am a personal friend of the patient." Her tone was anything but cordial. She wanted to ask him where the hell he had been. If Nick had had to wait on his arrival, he'd be dead by now. If LaCroix hadn't gotten there.... She couldn't confront the doctor. Not without revealing the true nature of Nick's physical status. She watched as he looked under the dressing she had applied to his chest wound. The nurse that had followed him in stood silently against one wall. He nodded. "Fine work, doctor." He looked at the blade she had removed from Nick's chest. "Is this the shank you removed?" "Yes, it is. I've placed it there for forensics. I figured they would be able to get the prints of the attacker off of it." She looked at him and tried to judge his reaction. There was very little facial reaction to her remarks. 'Well, it seems I was drug down here for no real good reason. You seem to have taken care of him without the need of my help." He looked up at her, full in the face, for the first time since he had arrived. It was all she could do to keep from yelling at him. His apathy infuriated her. Nick was NOT just another convicted felon. He was a cop. He deserved this man's concern. What he was getting was his passive disinterest. "He needed immediate medical attention. I was just glad I was here to provide it for him." His expression darkened slightly. "Are you implying that I have been lax in my duties, Dr. Lambert?" She took a deep breath before replying. "You do know that he is an undercover police officer, don't you?" By the flash of surprise on his face she could tell that he did not. How did he get all the way in here without finding out that information? "Undercover? No one told me..." He began. "Even if he wasn't, does it make a difference?" He fell silent for a moment. "You are out of line, doctor." "Am I? He may have died. I did dig that out of his chest." She pointed towards the blade. "If it had been any deeper, or cut a major artery.... Well, your less than timely arrival wouldn't have done him much good, would it?" The prison physician, she still didn't know his name, took a small step toward her. His face was filled with his anger and indignation. She stood to her full height. He stopped short of her and glared. Without speaking another word to her, he left the OR. The nurse, who had watched the exchange in silence, followed him out. She looked back down at Nick, still unconscious on the gurney. "You were right about these inmates, Nick. No one seems to care about them. No one but you." She brushed back his hair. Silent tears welled up in her eyes. He was healing, slowly. "Nick? Can you hear me? I'm right here, Nick. I'm right here." "Will someone tell me how the hell this was allowed to happen?" Joe Reese was tired of the run around. He really didn't give a damn who knew what when. Nick was damn near killed. Hell, he still might die. Fred Robertson stood up and paced the length of the warden's office. Hardesty was on his way to the prison now. The SG officers and the RCMP had locked the whole institution down. Thirty nine inmates were in special holding, awaiting interrogation. Five of the twelve guards on duty in the cell block were in custody pending the investigation. Knight was being treated as they spoke. He had been informed that Dr. Lambert and the prison physician had arrived. Everything that could be done was being done. He understood Reese's anger, but, right now it there was nothing they could tell him that would change the facts. Knight had been assaulted and stabbed. "Look, Captain, I understand how you feel..." "LIKE HELL YOU DO. THAT IS MY DETECTIVE IN THERE. MAYBE HE'S EVEN DYING. ALL I WANT TO KNOW IS HOW THE HELL SOMETHING LIKE THIS COULD BE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN." He was trying to control the volume, but, he was way beyond angry. He was furious. Randy Polchevsky looked at the captain from his chair on the other side of the office. "Captain Reese. We are not trying to make light of what has happened. If anyone is to blame, it is me. I wanted to bring him out earlier today. Nick said he wanted to remain inside until we had the warrant for the prisoner records. I shouldn't have given him the option." Some of his anger drained away as he listened to Polchevsky. He knew that Polchevsky was telling him the truth. It was just like Knight to refuse to come out of cover until he was damn good and ready to. He sighed. "I know. It's not your fault." He took a deep breath. "I'd like to see him if I could." Robertson had stopped pacing. Reese was calming down. "I'll take you to the infirmary myself." Turning to Randy he said, "Judge Keating is being contacted now for a phone warrant. When it comes in, I want every available man in here, tonight, going over those files. And when Hardesty gets here, hold him. I want to talk to him." With that he left the office. Reese rose and followed him out of the administrative offices and into the prison corridor. "Has there been any word yet?" Robertson looked back. "I've not heard anything yet. There should be some news now." It took them a few minutes to get through all the locked doors and into the infirmary. The nurse that met them told them that the prison physician had left, but that Dr. Lambert was still with the patient. They were in the operating room. "Is he having surgery?" Reese was very concerned. "No sir. They just moved him in there to remove the blade from his chest. I guess they decided to leave him in there for now." "Take us to him." Robertson instructed. "Yes sir." The nurse moved off and they both followed him. Natalie looked up as the nurse, Joe Reese and Fred Roberston entered. "Natalie?" Joe Reese could tell she had been fighting the tears. It must be hard on her to see Nick this way. Even if she was a doctor. "How is he?" He looked at Nick then. He looked like hell. Pale, still, bandages, nothing but a sheet covering him. Damn. She looked back down at Nick as she answered. "He's still unconscious. The blade didn't hit anything vital," she lied. "He was hit pretty hard in the head. And he was...um...he was..." "Raped." Robertson finished for her. The look on his face spoke of his own personal horror at the sight of Nick lying there, unmoving before him. "Yes." She looked back at Reese. "It must have been terrible. A nightmare." Her voice had gone quiet. "Damn." It was all Reese could say as he looked at Nick. Nightmare probably didn't even come close. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 29) by Carrie Krumtum Chap was one of only three men in the infirmary ward. The other two were playing checkers. Chap lay in his bed and prayed. The nurse had told them all about how the new guy was an undercover cop, how he had been through the mill and been stabbed, how the whole prison was in lock down, how the warden was in for it. None of the other stuff meant anything to Chap. Only the news about Nick. It didn't matter to Chap that he was a cop, or that Chap had been hurt to send Nick a message. Tiny had told him how Nick had reacted to the news. Nick was a man he had grown to like. Nick was a man he had prayed for. He would keep praying for. Nick needed the prayers. Now more than ever. So, Chap prayed. Joe Reese held to Nick's hand. "I hope you can hear me, Nick. I want you to know I'm here. I'm praying for you. You get well now. That's an order." He couldn't look at him anymore. He had to get out of there before he started crying. This whole damn thing angered him. Natalie looked at Fred Robertson. "Is there a phone I could use. I left my office without telling anyone where I was going. I think I'd better check in." Fred nodded towards the wall. "That phone has an outside line. Dial star 99 and you'll get out." "Thanks." She watched as they left. Looking back at her patient she smoothed his hair. "Hang in there, Nick." She went to the phone and dialed star 99. She listened for and received a second dial tone. She dialed the number for her long distance calling service, she didn't want there to be any record of this call. At the beep, she dialed the number for the Raven. She had no idea if he would even be there. It was the only place she could think to look for him. Speed was of the essence. That's what she had said. He still couldn't believe he was doing this. And by doing it he was breaking his word to Knight. How was he supposed to keep an eye on Tracy and play delivery boy at the same time? And what a delivery address. A prison. Vachon had received the call almost as soon as he had arrived at the Raven. Dr. Lambert had asked him to bring as much blood as he could to her. Knight had been hurt. Almost fatally. She had given him all the blood she could safely get from the infirmary of the prison, but, Knight still needed more. He had initially thought of refusing her request. He just couldn't. He owed her. She had tried to help Screed. That had meant a lot to him. This was a debt he needed to repay. And there was an additional wrinkle. He wasn't to let LaCroix know. Why was a complete mystery to him. It really didn't matter. He had no great desire to talk to the ancient vampire anyway. Now he was doing top speed towards her with as much of his own stock as he could carry. His biggest concern now was getting into and out of a maximum security prison in full lock down without being noticed. Hardesty entered his office, accompanied by an officer of the RCMP, only to find that it was already occupied by Fred Robertson and two other men he had never seen before. The computer terminals in the administrative offices were all in use by officers from the Solicitor General's office. This didn't look good. As a matter of fact, it looked pretty damn bad. Fred Robertson stood as Warden Hardesty entered. "Warden, you have some explaining to do...." "Nick? It's okay. You're all right now. It's Nat. Nick, can you her me?" The sound was becoming clearer. It sounded like Nat. He must be dreaming. How had she gotten into his cell? But, he wasn't in his cell. Was he? Where was he? It was black. His eyes were closed. He thought he heard her voice again. Someone was touching his face. "Nick? Can you hear me? It's Nat. Nick?" She watched as he tried to open his eyes. He was struggling toward consciousness. "Nick? It's Nat." She gently turned his head towards her. He listened to that voice that sounded so much like Nat. How did she get in here? "Nat?" It was still dark. He was having trouble getting his eyes to open. "Come on, Nick. You can do it. Wake up. It's me. It's Nat." He concentrated on getting his eyes to open. Slowly, after a few failed efforts, they opened to admit the light. He couldn't see anything now but the light. Everything was a blur. Just like it had been when it had gone black. Where had he been when it went black? "Nick? Look at me. It's Nat. Nick?" He wasn't seeing her yet. His eyes were open, but they weren't focused. She squeezed his hand and stroked his hair. The room began to come into focus. He could still hear Nat's voice, pulling him up from the blackness. Someone was squeezing his hand. He squeezed back. "Nat?" His voice was weak and hoarse sounding. He wasn't even sure he had said anything. "Yes, Nick. It's Nat. I'm right here." There was a face in front of him now. Blurry. But, it was familiar too. It was beautiful. It was Nat's face. "Nat." He felt his excitement rise at seeing her. He had missed her so much. It was getting harder for him to breath as his excitement rose. How did she get there? "How...?" "Shhh. It's all right, Nick. You're all right. Just lie still. I'm right here." She waited for him to become fully alert. He was breathing heavily. He needed to calm down. He took a deep breath. It hurt. "I hurt." "You've been stabbed, Nick. You have to keep still. You're healing, but you need blood. It's coming. Just take it easy." He had been stabbed. Yes, he remembered. He had seen the blade coming at him. He had been in such pain and there was several inmates there. Where had he been? The showers. That was it, he had been in the showers. And then, he had heard the laughing. Hully and Griffin. It had all started with the laughter.... It all came back to him then. The mill. They had put him through the mill. She watch, helplessly, as he remembered the events that caused his injuries. The pain on his face frightened her. "Nick? Nick! It's over. You're safe. Nick?" Nat was calling to him again. He looked up at her. She was so close to him. He listened to the room. There was no one else there. Only Nat. Only her. And she was concerned for him. Afraid. He could feel it in her. "Nat. I'm all right." He squeezed her hand. "I'm all right." The tears she cried fell onto the sheet that covered his pale naked body. Too pale. He still needed blood if he was to heal quickly. But, he was awake. And he was talking to her. "Nick. Thank God." He smiled at her. Her tears were like a cleansing shower to him. He had never been so happy to see anyone cry in eight hundred years... All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 30) by Carrie Krumtum Getting in had not been easy. He had done it, but it had not been easy. He was now leaning against the wall of the surgical suite watching Knight put away his third bottle. He was looking a little better. Less pale. The bruising that he had noted around his wrists when he had arrived was now gone. He was healing. Dr. Lambert was peeking under the bandage that was wrapped around his chest. Vachon was curious about how Knight had got into his current condition, but decided not to ask about it now. There would be time later to hear the tale. He would hear two versions. The one he would make sure Knight told him, and the one Knight would tell Tracy. Nick was sitting up now. Nat had elevated his head. He still felt weak, but he was gaining strength steadily. The blood he now consumed along with the blood that she and LaCroix had given him earlier was the first he had had since arriving in prison. He and Nat would have to talk about the ramifications of his abstinence. He had become weak. Too weak. The food he had been eating had not met his protein needs. Finishing off the bottle he now held he handed the empty bottle to Nat. "I think that's enough for now." "You do look better." Vachon told him. "Your current shade of pale looks a little more... you. If you don't mind my saying so." Nat noted the grin on the younger vampires face. Nick was smiling as well. Vampire humor. "Thank you for helping him like this." She said, turning to face Vachon. "I'm in your debt." "We both are." Nick interjected. He reached up and took Nat's hand. "No, your not." Vachon said, shaking his head. "Now, if we must keep accounts doctor, we are even. You tried to help a friend of mine. I owed you one." Screed. Nat remembered. She nodded her head. "Well, thank you anyway. Now, you had better get out of here before someone discovers you." Pushing away from the wall he went to pick up the wooden case he had delivered the blood in. He removed four full bottles and returned the now empty bottles to their slots. He set the bottles on the floor and picked up the case. "By the way, has anyone called Tracy to let her know what's going on? She's been saying she had a bad feeling about this assignment of yours from the beginning." He looked at them with open expectation. "No. Captain Reese may have, though." Nat answered. "Reese is here?" Nick looked at her with surprise. He wasn't aware that anyone else had been there except Nat and LaCroix. There hadn't been time for them to talk. He had been conscious for only a few minutes when Vachon arrived with his care package. "I guess you'll need to get the full story before you can tell anyone else." Vachon grinned again. Nick returned his gaze to the younger vampire. "I guess I will." He gave Vachon a meaningful stare. "I'd like to be able to tell Tracy about this myself." "Don't worry. I'll leave the explaining up to you." He nodded to the doctor and vanished out the door. Nick looked back at Nat. "Reese is here?" He repeated his question. "Oh, yeah." She smiled. "And I guess it's about time he got back in here to see you." She pulled away from him and went to pick up the phone on the wall. She had no idea how to find him. She dial zero. "Switchboard." A male voice responded. Nat was rewarded for her effort. "Yes. This is Dr. Lambert. I'm with the injured officer in the infirmary. I'd like to speak with Captain Reese. I think he's with Fred Robertson." "Yes, ma'am. Their in the warden's office. I'll connect you." Conley was awakened by the pounding on his front door. Who the hell can that be at this hour? Donning his robe he stumbled to the door and opened it. He was confronted with two RCMP officers. "Correctional Officer Conley?" One of them asked. "Yes." "You're presence is required at the prison, sir. Please get dressed. You're coming with us." "That's excellent news, Dr. Lambert. We'll be there in a few moments." Fred Robertson hung up the phone. They had been questioning the warden for nearly twenty minutes. Hardesty had remained smooth, for a while. But the revelation that Knight had been an undercover officer and the fact that his prison's records, computer and otherwise, were currently being scrutinized by virtue of a phone warrant, had broken his exterior calm. It didn't take long before he was telling them that none of it was his fault and that he wanted his attorney. He did say that he thought Conley was involved in whatever they thought was going on. Robertson had sent a unit to get Correctional Officer Conley and bring him to the prison. Anything Hardesty told them now would be inadmissible in a trial until his attorney arrived. They would have time to go and see Knight, now that he had regained consciousness. "Is Nick okay?" Reese asked him. "He's regained consciousness. Dr. Lambert says he will be fine. We can speak with him now." Reese nearly leaped from his chair. The last image he had of his detective was not the image he would have preferred to remember. Nick was awake and talking. That was good. Great in fact. "Then let's go." Robertson smiled and nodded his head at Reese's excitement. "Mind if I tag along? I'd like to see him." Randy Polchevsky asked. Joe Reese looked back at the attorney who had been Nick's outside contact. Polchevsky felt guilty for Nick's assault. Reese wasn't so sure that his guilt wasn't appropriate. Still, his concern appeared to be genuine. "Sure," Reese told him, "come on." Randy smiled. He hoped Nick was really going to be all right. He had been praying for him. It may have been too little, too late. But, he HAD been praying for him. She hung up the phone and turned back to Nick when she spotted the bottles Vachon had left on the floor. Picking them up and she placed them in a cabinet. She had no desire to have to try to explain how they had gotten there OR about their contents. Walking back to the gurney she wondered what they should do next. The first order of business would be to get Nick to someplace where he could rest. He was healing, but he still had a lot of that left to do. How was she going to get him out of there? She would like to get him back to his loft. "Nat?" Nick could see that she was worried about something. "Are you okay?" She smiled at him. "You have just nearly died on me and you are asking ME if I'm okay?" He returned her smile. She wasn't as frightened now. He was glad of that. This whole thing had been hard on her. On them both. He would need her in the days that followed. There was a lot of things he needed to talk with her about. The attack. The blood. The letters. "You look worried." "I am." Her smile vanished. "I've got to get you out of here. You need rest." She took a deep breath. "I need to rest myself. This has been one hell of an evening." He reached for her hand again and pulled her closer to him. "Everything will work out, Nat." He looked into those blue eyes that spoke to him of her love. "Now that you're here." She felt herself smiling again. "My patients usually don't talk to me like that." He laughed. "Your patient's usually don't talk at all." They both laughed then. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 31) by Carrie Krumtum They all looked at each other as they stood outside the door to the OR. They heard laughter. Fred Robertson slowly opened the door and peeked in. Knight was sitting up. Nodding behind him he moved into the room. Joe Reese and Randy Polchevsky followed. Reese marveled at Nick. How could he be laughing after what he had been through? He was sitting up. That was good. But, he was still pale. Too pale, even for him. And his eyes were edged with his fatigue and...something else. Bad memories he guessed. "Glad to see you awake, Nick. You know that you have NOT been good for my blood pressure?" He smiled. "You do look better than you did the last time I saw you." Nick smiled back at the captain. "Thanks, cap. I had the best doctor." He looked at Nat. Randy stood back at the door. Nick was doing okay. He looked to be all in one piece. Still, he had been through hell. Everything looked liked it was going to heal. On the outside anyway. He felt like an intruder in the room. He was preparing to leave when he heard Nick call to him. Nick noticed Polchevsky by the door. He looked uncomfortable. "Randy? I'd like you to meet Dr. Lambert. Natalie Lambert." Randy took a step towards the gurney and nodded towards the woman standing next to Nick. "Dr. Lambert." "He was my outside contact." Nick elaborated. "And if I had listened to him better, I wouldn't be lying here." Randy's face filled with surprise. Nick scanned the other faces in the room to make sure they understood the implications of what he had just said. He had been assaulted, not because Randy hadn't done his job, but because Nick had misjudged the danger to himself. There was no one else to blame. He had thought he understood the risks of remaining undercover. He had accepted the risks. No one should be holding Randy responsible. Especially not Randy. He noted that the others did understand his implied meaning. "Nick," Randy began. "I..." "I mean it." Nick said. "You did what you could for me." He took a deep breath. "Did you get the warrant?" "Yeah." Randy said after a moment. Knight was a different sort. He was truly glad that Nick was alive and apparently well. "Yeah. We're going through all the records now. With the records and your testimony, Nick, we've got him." "Good." Nick felt tired. "I think your patient needs to get some rest, doctor." Fred Robertson told Dr. Lambert. "Yes. He does." She said. "And not here." "Why don't we put both of you in the honeymoon suite?" Fred suggested. Nick looked up at that. Reese grinned. Nat blushed. "The what?" They asked in tandem. It was Fred's turn to smile. "The conjugal visit apartment. It's closer to a hotel room then a hospital room, but, it's private. We could make sure Dr. Lambert has everything she needs from here brought to the room." Natalie forgot her embarrassment quickly. This would have to do for now. Nick was healing, but not as fast as he usually did. He was still weak. She didn't want to move him too far just yet. "Let's do it." "Nick?" Fred turned his attention to the detective. "Is there anything else that you need? Anything I can do for you?" "I could use some clothes." He said as he looked down at the sheet that was all that was covering him. "And I'd like the stuff from my cell. The book and the letters." Fred nodded. "Done. If you need anything else. I mean anything. You just let me know." Looking back at Nat he added, "I'll send the nurse and a guard in here to help you move him, doctor. Just tell the them what you need and they'll get it for you." "Thank you." She said. Reese had said his goodnights to Natalie and Nick. He would see them both tomorrow. Now, he was headed back to the precinct to explain to Nick's partner where he had been and what had happened to him. Nick seemed to be holding up well. Considering what had happened to him. There was a lot of stuff he would still have to deal with. Guy's just don't get raped like that and not have it mess them up. Nick was a strong minded individual. But, Reese doubted that he would be unaffected by this. Hell, he'd have to be inhuman not to be affected by it. Big time. She had smuggled the bottles of blood into the room by placing them on the foot of the gurney under a blanket she had the nurse bring to them. Nick was working on drinking another one down now. The guard had brought the clothes Nick had wore when he arrived at the prison, as well as his shoes and the other items he had requested from his cell. His cell. She shivered at the idea of him in one of those cell's. He had got all but two of the letters she had written to him. They had been placed among the pages of a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream he had gotten from the prison library. She wasn't sure just why, but, she felt kind of embarrassed about the letters now. She had written them to encourage Nick. To keep him focused on their goals. His goals. Nick had a way of getting lost in his world of guilt. Of losing sight of the possibilities. Of losing hope. She had worried about him being in prison. Feared for him. She was still afraid. They hadn't had time to talk about the assault yet. But she was sure that Nick would need to. And it should be soon. She didn't know what the rape and stabbing had done to him. He had a haunted cast to his eyes at times. She just prayed that this didn't set him back anymore than he had already been set back lately. And the failure to come back across. What about that? He had been completely abstinent from the blood for nearly two weeks. All it had gotten him was weak. Too weak to defend himself when he really needed to. Damn. If she had been wrong about that, and she was beginning to think that she might be, then it was her fault that he had been brutalized. If he hadn't still been a vampire, he'd be dead. He would have been able to defend himself if he had not been so weakened from the lack of blood. Hell, he probably wouldn't have even been there. She continued to set up the room like she wanted it. She had removed the IV from Nick's arm and checked the wounds on his temple and chest. They were healing, but still needed attention. She redressed the wounds and then stopped to look around at the accommodations. It did look more like a hotel room. Curtains covered a barred window, bed, table and chairs, bathroom, carpeting. This was the most unprisonlike room she had seen since her arrival. There was only one bed, though. She sat down in a chair she pulled up next to the bed. "How do you feel?" She asked him. He swallowed the last of the blood from the bottle and set it down on the bedside stand. "Better. It doesn't hurt anymore. I'm just a little weak yet. That's all. I'll be fine, thanks to you." "And LaCroix." She added. "If he hadn't got here when he did..." "I'll have to thank him later." Nick knew he would. As much as he hated to admit it, LaCroix had saved him, again. He noticed a strange look on Nat's face at the mention of LaCroix. Like a foreboding. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. "Nat? Is there something wrong? Something you're not telling me?" She thought about whether or not to tell Nick about the threat LaCroix had given her. No, this is between he and I, she thought. Nick would have enough worries just dealing, emotionally, with the assault. He didn't need to know about her issues with LaCroix. "No," she lied. "I'm just...tired I guess." Robertson made sure that the prison would remain in lock down for the night. The investigation into the inmate records would continue throughout the night. Conley was in custody and would be kept in holding until tomorrow to prevent flight. Hardesty was with his lawyer. Knight was with his doctor. Reese and Polchevsky had both gone. Everything was under control. The Solicitor General wasn't happy about the mess in the prison. He wasn't happy about the assault to Knight. He wasn't happy about the late hour that Fred had called. He just wasn't happy. Fred sighed. Tomorrow would be soon enough to finish the interrogations, to face the SG, to try and find out exactly what happened with Knight's assault. Tomorrow. He was tired. He headed for home. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 32) by Carrie Krumtum He found her asleep next to him when he awoke. There was no pain at all now. He had had to insist that she share the bed with him. She had looked so tired. So scared. And he had been the cause of it all. Not wishing to disturb her, he opted to stay where he was. Retrieving the letters she had sent him from the bedside table, he reread them. Several times. Each. The words were alive and breathing with her love for him. Her hopes, her faith. For him, his quest for his lost humanity. For them both. The letters had been a lifeline to him. Anchoring him when he needed to be. Like now. Now, alone in her company, when the memories ripped at him like the wounds had. When he could feel the tender new flesh that replaced the injured. When he felt the anger and shame of his vulnerability. When he needed her. There she was. In the letters. In spirit. Near. So near. Near enough to make him ache. A pain of another sort.... "Oh my God." It was just so hard to hear. The story of Nick's ordeal. What part of it Captain Reese could tell her. "Oh my God." What else could she say? What could she do for him? She felt like crying. Like shouting. Like shooting something. Or someone. The whole thing was so horrible. Reese watched his detective. Tracy's expression moved form fear to horror to anger, and now, to pain. Hearing about what her partner had been doing since leaving the precinct and the assault that ended the assignment was hard on her. The relationship that cops develop is hard to explain to people who haven't experienced it. It's more like a marriage than anything else. Having to trust someone, with your life, everyday, creates an intimacy with that other person. And the intimacy brings with it a special kind of fondness. A love and dependence that is unique to police work. Tracy's face was a treatise on the subject. Nick was a good partner for her. He had taught her a lot. Helped her to learn the streets. Gave her a chance to be her own person, not just the daughter of a police commissioner. She hurt for him. And would, until she was certain that he was all right. There was nothing Reese could do about that. They would both have to wait until Natalie felt he was stable enough to come home. Reese hoped that was soon. Today would be nice. The bed surrounding him was littered with pieces of her stationary. Sitting up she realized he had been reading the letters she had written him again. Again, she was embarrassed. It didn't make any sense. She had meant every word. Felt every line. It was just how she felt, honestly. Maybe that was it. It was the honesty that made her so uncomfortable. Putting her thoughts and feelings down on paper made them immutable. Permanent. There was no way to take it back. Not, that she wanted to. But, the open honesty represented by her letters made her vulnerable. What if he didn't share her feelings? What if he thought she was crazy? Or silly? He knew she was awake before she sat up. Her heart rate had increased. He waited for her to look up at him. Smiling, he bent to kiss her forehead. "Good morning." Morning. He had gotten used to the daytime hours. He was trapped in the prison for another day. Not that he couldn't make good use of the time. He wanted to be a part of the interrogations. He would be a part of them. There was truths that he wasn't quite willing to leave to simple human justice to uncover. Vampiric influence would insure justice was served. He would make sure of that. For Chap, for him, for the Billy Talvert's now dead. "Good morning to you. How do you feel?" She touched the site of the wound at his temple. It was completely healed. The bandage that had been there lay on the bedside table where he must have placed it after removing it. He followed her gaze to the bandage. "It itched." "Well, you should have left it in place anyway. What if someone else came in? They don't know you have the metabolism of a vampire. You will have to wear a bandage today." She laughed at the face of distaste he made. "Come here. Let me see that spot on your chest." He turned and leaned close to her. He watched as she pulled back the dressing that still encircled his torso and covered the site of his stab wound. He took a deep breath and was filled with the smell of her. He wanted to take her in his arms. She was busy inspecting his now healed wound. He settled for reaching up and stroking her hair. She felt his hand on her hair. Looking up into his face she saw that he didn't find her silly at all. She found desire there. It surprised her, a little. She would have thought his ordeal would have affected this part of him somehow. Made the thought of intimacy hard for him. But, there was no real chance for intimacy between them. Maybe that was a good thing, for now. He probably hadn't even begun to deal with his feelings resulting from the assault yet. Right now, he looked at her with passion in his face. And it made her long for him. "Nick." She whispered. Taking her face in his hands he kissed her. Gently. Softly. "Thank you." He told her as their lips parted. "For the letters. For being here when I needed you." His voice was quiet, but filled with his emotion. Like his eyes. Filled with a love she had dreamed she would find in them. Filled with a love she could mirror to him. And she did. They both heard the knock on the door. Nick dropped his head at the sound. He wasn't ready for the world to intrude on them yet. For the reality of this place to take away the sweetness of their moment. But, he wasn't in control of the events. He never had been. He sighed and looked back into the face that he knew would help him to heal. The way he needed to be healed the most. "Dr. Lambert?" She heard the call from the other side of the door. She rose and moved to open the door. A RCMP officer stood on the other side. "I sorry if I woke you ma'am, but, I was instructed to ask you what you would like for breakfast. The prison kitchen will prepare anything you request, compliments of the Solicitor General's office." She laughed to herself. They should be giving Nick a medal, not making him breakfast. Still, it was the little things, wasn't it? "Coffee, lots of it, and toast would be fine, officer. Thank you." He looked around her at Nick. She guessed that he was kind of a celebrity by now among the other officer's at the prison. After all, it was because of him that all hell had broke loose last night. "Doesn't he want anything?" The officer asked as he nodded towards Nick. "No." She moved to close the door. "He was injured pretty badly. Solid foods are not on the menu for him today. Thank you, officer." She closed the door. Turning from the door she saw that he had risen from the bed and gone into the bathroom. He still hadn't dressed yet. His clothed were still on the hangers they were delivered to them on last night. They now hung on the door that led into the bathroom. She heard the sound of the shower running. The bandages that had covered the external wounds had been discarded. She wondered again about the look she had seen on his face. The desire, the passion. What kind of wounds did he hide behind those things? Surely he must be dealing with some effects of the rape. Maybe he was in some kind of shock, just blocking out all thoughts of it, for now. Maybe it would surface latter. She was worried for him. If there was one thing knowing Nick had taught her, it was that vampires feel things every bit as deep as humans do. Sometimes deeper, when the vampire in question happened to be Nick. There would be emotional repercussions of the assault. Of that she was sure. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com Pardon Gentles All, I have no idea what happened. To those of you who pay by the line, please don't stone me. When I got the post it was gibberish. I'll try again. Again, my most abject apologies... This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 33) by Carrie Krumtum Natalie had gone home. But not until she had assured everyone that he was well enough to be up on his feet. She had dressed his, now, non existent wounds again before leaving. After finishing another bottle of the blood Vachon had brought, he was escorted to the interrogation room. Fred Robertson was astonished to see Knight there. Just last night he looked like death warmed over. He still looked very, very pale. But, he had looked pale the first time Fred had met Knight. He had insisted on being in on the interrogations. Fred was in no position to deny him anything. They would interrogate the prisoners this morning and the guards and warden this afternoon. Everyone who needed a lawyer assigned to them had one, the Solicitor General had seen to it. Every lawyer in provincial service without a current assignment was there today. He turned to Knight as they sat down and prepared for the first prisoner to be led in with his lawyer. "Are you sure you want to be in on this? I mean...it must be kind of hard to...um...go through it all again." Damn, how do you talk about a rape like this with the guy who was assaulted? It was just so awkward. Nick understood Robertson's concern. He really didn't know if he was ready to listen to the statements of the inmates involved in his assault or not. He HAD to be there. To make sure these men told the truth. To make sure that justice was served here today. To make DAMN sure. "Yeah, I'm sure." "Okay..." He nodded to the officer at he door. "Bring in the first one." He would be waiting for her. She knew he would be. She had thought about it on the way home. There was no escaping whatever was going to happen. The sun was up and he was there for the day. She had thought about going to Nick's loft, but that would only be putting off the inevitable. Better to get it over with now. No sense prolonging the suspense. She had to face LaCroix. She unlocked her door and went into her apartment. "Good morning, Dr. Lambert." He stood up from his position on her couch as she entered. She set her keys on the entry way table and closed the door. "I thought you might be here. I see you're manners have not improved." She just couldn't help indulging in the little barb. The opportunity was just too tempting. And she may never get another opportunity again. Ever. His face was a careful mask of passivity. He inclined his head ever so slightly towards her. "Touche." She stepped into the living room and sat down in the chair that opposed the couch. LaCroix seated himself. "So, what now?" He smiled. She was not going to cower from him. All the better. "Now, we will talk of responsibility. Debts owed." She waited. This was his show. She would wait for an opening, assuming he even gave her one, to express her thoughts. Right now, she waited. It was odd that she felt so calm about it all. It was as if her fear had been suspended for this meeting. No trepidation. Just calm. Maybe she was just too tired to be frightened. "Nicholas is healing, I presume?" LaCroix began. He knew perfectly well how his son was doing. Sharing his blood with him as he had done had strengthened their bond. He could feel much in his son today. Love for this mortal. Fatigue from the long hours of physical healing he had just completed. Resolve for the tasks he undertook now at the prison. Hidden fear, repressed anger, carefully placed in a corner of his mind in an attempt to escape the inevitable. How like Nicholas to lie to himself. To try to ignore the heart of the matter while dealing with trivialities. He should just go and drain the offenders. One by one. That wasn't Nicholas' way. Not now. Now he would be working to help the human form of justice to deal with those responsible for his pain. That might be all well and good for Nicholas, but it was not nearly so satisfying for LaCroix. He would demand more for his injury. Much more. Robertson couldn't believe his ears. This was the third inmate who had sat across the table and spilled his guts to them. There had to be something in the air. All Knight had to do was lean up, face the inmate and ask them to tell the whole story. And they confessed. Just like that. Admitting to everything. Simply amazing. Even the inmate's attorneys couldn't believe it. He had never heard of anything like it before. Probably wouldn't ever happen again either. "Physically, yes." She answered him honestly. No use in trying to hide the truth from him. He probably already sense the truth from Nick through their link anyway. "Interesting that you make the distinction." He noted. She shrugged. "It doesn't take a doctor to know that trauma like what Nick went through would cause emotional injury. Deep emotional injury." "Indeed. And what would you do to assist him in the healing process, doctor?" "Whatever he needed me to do." The directness of her answer and it's corresponding gaze intrigued him. She wasn't intimidated in the least. At least, not yet. "Vachon?" She walked into the living area of the church carefully. He was probably asleep. She hadn't been able to. She needed to talk. And she didn't want to talk to a cop or anyone associated with one. Her life had been related to police work ever since she could remember. Cops had a way of just accepting the horrors of life as inevitable. She didn't want inevitable right now. Right now, she wanted a sympathetic ear. She wasn't sure that Vachon would provide that for her, but, at this particular moment in her life, he was her best bet for one. "Vachon? Are you here?" "And what if what he needs is not something that YOU can give him?" LaCroix would challenge the notion that Nicholas needed her at all. "Then I would help him to find whatever it was. I'm do not believe that that is the case, however." "You believe you can help him? Even after what YOU have done to him?" The irritation he felt for this mortal was creeping into his voice. "I don't know. I might be able to. I might not. I will keep trying, if he wants me to." Of course, LaCroix would blame her. She had always believed that the blood was what kept Nick from coming back across. His abstinence from it had significantly weakened him. He had been vulnerable to the assault. If he had not been so weak, he could have protected himself. Nick had done as she had recommended, and he had nearly been killed. It was her fault, and both she and LaCroix knew it. He read what must have been obvious in her expression. Her acknowledgment of her guilt. "So you admit that you have a share of the responsibility in this matter. That is fortunate." "As you do." The speed with which the thinly layered cordiality disintegrated surprised her. He looked as if he would take her around the neck at that instant. The look lasted only a few seconds. It softened, slightly, to a look of disgust and disbelief. "Surely you are not implying that I hold any responsibility in this matter." He spoke the words with bitterness at the implication. She regarded him calmly. "Of course you do." The look on his face informed her that she had possibly made a big mistake. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 34) by Carrie Krumtum The tone in her voice stopped him from startling her. "Trace?" He called to her from around a corner in the next room. She followed the sound of his voice into the room where she found him sitting with his guitar lying next to him. There had been no music when she entered the church so he had not been playing, at least not since her arrival. "Vachon?" Looking up at her he could see that he was not wrong about the state of her emotions. Someone had told her about Knight. She was there because she needed to talk. Funny how this whole thing was working out with her. The level of intimacy was rising, almost without his putting any effort into it. It excited him, in a way. It also frightened him, in a way. His feelings for Tracy weren't exactly clear to him. Right now, he didn't think his feelings were all that important. Hers were drowning her. She needed to talk. He would listen. Something he had learned to do in over 400 years. And where Tracy was concerned, something that was quite easy to do. Gold. The blue of his eyes had vanished and been replaced by a fire tinged gold. The color alone could frighten the onlooker with a mere glance. But the color coupled with an expression of rage could scare the life from a person. Or reason from a mind. She had been calm, up to now. The vision of his face and the tension in the room changed that. The amount of epinephrine dumped into he blood stream at that moment caused her to shiver. Quaking in the boots was an excellent description, she noted. She was terrified. But, she was also resolved. Sure of her beliefs. And determined to be honest, with this particular vampire, about those beliefs. Whatever the cost. She was not going to run from him. She couldn't have, anyway. He smelled her fear. To her credit, she controlled her expression well. "I do not believe you have a right to be a judge." His voice hissed with his threat. He would kill her, but not until she relented this pathetic pretense of Nicholas' need for her. "You have caused him nothing but pain and misery. Failure and false hope. It will not be tolerated any more." She stared into those eyes of hate. Behind them, she believed she could see a kind of protectiveness. LaCroix's values were self serving and elitist. Typical vampire. They being so superior to mere mortals, she thought bitterly. Even in her fear she found room to be angered by his arrogance. It must have been the adrenaline, because she found she lacked the good sense to temper her reply. "I have as much right to judge your motives as you do to judge mine. It is not for either of us to decide what Nick needs." He rose. "You will die for this insolence and your continued meddling." "That may be." She continued to meet his gaze. "You may very well kill me. That does not change anything." "You are not afraid to die?" He took a step towards her. "Of course I am." He stopped after the first step. Her face was filled with her defiance. She was still terrified. But, somehow, oddly and for a reason he could not identify exactly, she reminded him of Nicholas. This whole attitude of rebellion. In Nicholas, now in this mortal. He contemplated bringing her across. There was no guarantee that she would be any easier to control than Nicholas had proved to be. "Perhaps you will not die." She raised an eyebrow at that. "Then you will bring me across." The thought did not frighten her as much as she thought it might. How many times had she thought about this possibility herself? To be able to be with Nick. To experience his world. To give herself to him. But she would become the creation of LaCroix. A possession of LaCroix. A slave. That was how Nick had described it once. Like being a slave. It had taken Nick over 700 years to break free. The implications of his suggestion played across her face. He watched as she went through the process. Her fear did not diminish. Neither did her resolve. She was beginning to fascinate him, but far less than she annoyed him. He began to advance toward her again. "What of Nick?" She asked. Again, he stopped. Now only inches away. He towered over her. "What of him?" She trembled at his proximity. "What do you think he will do after you have taken your revenge?" LaCroix had thought about this as well. Nicholas would blame himself. He would also blame him. It was his stock and trade to wallow in guilt and blame. There existed a wedge between he and Nicholas that LaCroix had not been able to remove. By force or subterfuge. Killing Dr. Lambert would not change that. Bringing her across would not change that either. He simply could not let this situation remain as it was. He would exact his revenge. And Nicholas be damned, he would exact it from her. The source of his most recent irritations. "This is not about Nicholas. It is about promises made." "To who? You? You think you have been wronged? Because I refused to tell you what Nick would not? Now I must die or become like you, is that it?" His arrogance was angering her even more. She had nothing left to lose. He was going to take her, one way or the other, and she was not willing to go down without having her say. Let him tear her throat out mid sentence, then. "I made no such promise. You made a threat. So who died and made you God, huh?" Her tirade mystified him. She was faced with her own death and refused to cower. He was fascinated, despite his annoyance. She was either courageous, or insane. "Okay, so, your going to kill me, or, bring me across. That will not change anything. Not for Nick. It will hurt him, I think you know that. But, it will not change his desire for mortality. It will not stop him from fighting you. It probably won't even change his love for you." That last surprised him. LaCroix had been certain that the opposite would have been true. Nicholas would hate him for this betrayal. The bitterness and rage in his voice still rang in his ears after the last such struggle over a mortal they had had. Nicholas had nearly killed him then. "Of course it would change it. Does it really matter?" "I don't know. Does it?" She could see that he had already given this some thought and had not come to the same conclusion she had. Nick could not hate LaCroix. She knew that. He rebelled against his control, his destruction of humanity, the morality that allowed LaCroix to be the monster he was. But in his heart, Nick had a love for LaCroix. Despite everything that had happened between them. "Surely you know why Nick resists you like he does? It is not hatred." "Nicholas is a rebellious child." "No. He is a man. With a very different point of view from yours. And mine. He is not going to change for you or for me. He will continue to be what and who he is for his own reasons. The difference between you and me is that I want to help him achieve HIS goals. Not mine." He laughed. "And you have no ulterior motives? You do not deny that you love him. This is not altruism, doctor. It is selfishness. Greed." "Yes, it is selfish. My motives are not all so pure." She thought he looked a little surprised at that. "But that doesn't change anything. Nick does not want to be a vampire anymore. That is his choice. One he made long before I was born. My love for him has not altered anything. He remains committed to his decision. I remain committed to it because I love him. You remain committed only to your own self serving whims. Loving Nick means letting him be who he chooses to be. You are incapable of the emotion. Despite what you profess." His eyes remained fixed on her. Her words held no hollow falsehoods. No human parodies of truth. Her challenge was direct. Nicholas was his son. He loved him. He also created him. Nicholas' rebellion had been like a slap in the face. As much as LaCroix would like to deny it, Nicholas' lack of gratefulness for the gift he had given him was painful to him. It was a betrayal that touched him at his core. It was so painful because he did love his son. He had always loved him. That was the most surprising thing. The depth of his feeling for Nicholas. That had been a great source of irritation for him as well. He seemed totally unable to change the way he felt about the whole matter. Not a very pleasant realization for a vampire nearing the beginning of his third millennia. The lack of control was quite distressing. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 35) by Carrie Krumtum Laughter. It was the same laughter that he remembered. Hully was laughing at him again. Nick could feel the rage begin to build within him. It was taking every ounce of control he possessed to keep himself seated and his hands from around Hully's throat. Hully had been pretty cocky at the beginning of his interrogation. "I didn't see nothing. Just taking a shower, man. I don't give a shit what happened to him." He nodded towards Knight. Fred Robertson was more interested in Knight's reaction to Hully than he was in the crap Hully was feeding them. The look on Knight's face was hard to describe. A mixture of revulsion and restraint. That and the fact that Knight had both of his fist clenched beneath the table in his lap spoke of the struggle he was going through. Hully would be better served to shut up. Now. The tension in Knight was rising. "We already have several statements from other participants in the assault. We know what you did and when. We just want to know why you participated, as if we didn't know." The news that other inmates had already given statements wiped the smile off of his face. "I don't care what anybody said, I didn't do nothing to him." Knight had heard enough. Leaning forward and fixing Hully with a stare that Robertson had seen over and over that morning, he spoke in a tone so filled with menace that the hair on Robertson's neck stood on end. "I think it is time for you to tell us the truth. You were a part of the plan for the assault from the very beginning, weren't you?" Hully's face filled with an awareness of his plight. He was as guilty as sin. "Yeah, from the beginning." "Tell us about it. I don't want you to leave any detail out. The truth. All of it." Knight's voice remained menacing. "The whole truth. Yeah, I'll tell you the whole thing." Hully heard himself say. He simply had no choice. He told them the whole thing. "It's just so horrible. I can't believe that anyone could do such a thing. And Nick...." She had been trying to keep from shedding any tears. They fell anyway. Nick was a mystery to her, mostly. She really didn't know him well. But, she felt she could trust him with her life. And had, several times. Nick had placed himself in danger, over and over again to protect her, the captain, victims, criminals, even vampires, although he was unaware of the last groups identity. It was just like him to go undercover to try and nail dirty prison officials in an attempt to protect convicted felons from assault. But, then, to become a victim of the sexual assaults himself. It was just so hard to believe. What would she say to him when he got back? How would this change him? She was frightened for him. Rape was rape. She had seen how it devastated women who had been attacked. It must be even harder on men. They were supposed to be the strong one's. They were not emotionally prepared to handle something like this. Vachon had been listening to her in near silence. She appreciated him doing so. She just needed to vent. To talk about it, how it made her feel. He kept listening. She kept talking. Tiny sat next to Chap's bed in the infirmary. A guard listened to every word they said. The prison remained in lock down, but, someone had been sure to give Tiny permission to visit Chap when he came for his medication. "I just would have never figured Nick for a pig. He was on the level about the murder thing. I can tell. He's killed. Man, I liked him." Chap regarded his big visitor. Tiny had been the only visitor he had had since being sent to the infirmary. The news about Nick didn't surprise him as much as it did Tiny. There were a lot of things that aren't what they seem to be in the joint. "Maybe he has killed somebody. Like in the line of duty or something. Cops have to kill sometimes. I think Nick would feel bad about it anyway. Even if it was something he had to do. Man, I've killed somebody, and I know. It gets to ya. You think about that other guy being dead, ya know? How he ain't never going to live no more. It don't matter why you killed 'em. They're just as dead." "Yeah. Maybe." Tiny still didn't know if he bought it. Chap was right about one thing, though. Nick was the kind of guy that would carry it around with him. He was a guy with a heart. So was Chap. The guard nodded at him. "Well, Chap, I got to go. I'll see ya' before supper." "Okay, Tiny. Thanks for stopping, man. I needed another face." Chap looked at the face of his new friend and knew that it was just that. The face of a new friend. Because of Nick. Another good reason to pray for him. God sure could use unusual things to bring good into a man's life. For Chap and Tiny it had been an undercover cop and a beating. Usual things, indeed. The gold had partially faded from his eyes, but they still were not blue. LaCroix seemed to be deep in thought. She didn't know if what she had said was the cause of his reverie or if she had reopened an issue he had previously debated with himself. Either way, he was not as threatening at the moment. That was by no means an indication that he had changed his mind, she reminded herself. It was the nature of his relationship with Nicholas to always seem adversarial. Even in trivialities. He could remember a time when that was not so. When he had reveled in the bond he had shared with his son. And his daughter, now his no longer. When, like a family he had known far too briefly, they were for one another, the love and support every living thing must crave. Even vampires. But for LaCroix, it was the relationship with Nicholas that held the most pleasure and the most pain. Did he not, even now, have the watch in his pocket? The one that spoke of the eternal nature of their bond. The gift, once treasured, now returned. Another slap in the face. As he stared at the mortal before him it was obvious that his anger was, at least, partially misplaced. He was angry with Nicholas. He had taken this assignment and left without so much as a word to HIM. This mortal woman, she he would confide in. She it was that he trusted. The lessons of trust that he had tried to teach his son had fallen on deaf ears. LaCroix could kill the remainder of humanity and he doubted that Nicholas would heed him. His desire to regain his mortality was too strong. To ingrained to be dissuaded that way. His anger with the doctor was more a matter of jealousy than anything else, he now realized. Nicholas had been willing to do as she had suggested. And it had cost him. The doctor had made a mistake. That, she had admitted to. Medical science was not an exact science. Being the study of mortal physiology, it never would be. It did not alleviate her of her guilt. There must be a price to be paid for her folly. LaCroix was not sure, now, whether he was willing to risk the loss of his son for the rest of eternity for exacting that price. "Oh contraire, doctor. I am quite capable of the emotion you accuse me of being unable to experience." The ache in his heart was proof of that. The silent ache he had felt for only two individuals in his long existence. One with a soul, the other, without. Sister and brother. Human and vampire. His eyes were now pools of purest blue. The blue of a summer sky. She allowed herself the luxury of relaxing, ever so slightly. Her muscles had begun to ache from the constant tension and shivering she had been doing. "Then you should understand why I have done for Nick what I have done. Because he had asked for my help. Because I could do no less than everything for him." "Including allowing him to be injured." His tone remained accusatory and harsh. "Yes." She allowed the pain she felt at this fact to flood her voice. This was a pain she had yet to fully deal with herself. "Nick was willing to take the risk. I knew there was danger when he first suggested going into the prison and abstaining from the blood." "And what price should such a transgression cost, doctor? What penalty paid for your folly?" He bored into her with his stare. Now, she would live or die. Remain mortal or become a vampire. She had no idea what to say. None whatsoever. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 36) by Carrie Krumtum Knight needed a break. He looked incredibly tired. This wasn't a good idea, letting him in on all of the interrogations. At least, that was what Fred Robertson had thought at first. But the results Knight was able to get from the inmates involved in his assault had been astounding. Not one of the prisoners involved had, so far, denied their actions. They had full confessions from all of them. The only prisoner they had not interrogated, yet, was Griffin. Robertson knew he would be the hardest to get anything from and the hardest for Knight to deal with. He decided to take a break now and deal with Griffin in about an hour. That would give Knight a chance to rest some and the Solicitor General's office attorneys time to deal with the disposition of the statements from all the other inmates. Polchevsky was calling them the Knight confessions. Robertson laughed. The name had a snappy ring to it. Nick felt his fatigue. He had done a lot of healing the night before, had expended a lot of energy controlling his temper during the interrogations this morning. And, he was hungry. He let himself be escorted back to the conjugal suite. The room had been untouched, the guard outside the room had reported. Just as he had left instructions that it should be. He didn't want to have to explain the bottles of blood hidden within. He had barely opened one of the three remaining bottles when there was a knock at the door. Returning the bottle to it's hiding place behind the headboard of the bed, he answered the door. "Excuse me, Detective Knight." It was Fitzgerald. "But another letter came in for you today, sir. I thought you might want it, unopened of course, so I thought I'd bring it to you right away." The fact that Fitzgerald now knew that Knight had been undercover was a point of some discomfort to him. He had never mistreated him, if he had, he would be under arrest as some of the other guards were now. Still, once you've judged a man to be a prisoner, it is hard to look at him in another light. "Thank you, officer." Nick took the letter and watched as Fitzgerald turned to go. "Officer Fitzgerald?" Fitzgerald turned back to him. "Yes, sir?" "I just wanted to thank you for the job you do with the inmates here. If there were more men like you, honest men, working here, there would have been no need for my having ever been in here. I just wanted you to hear that, from me." Nick extended his hand to the officer. "Thanks." Fitzgerald didn't know, at first, how to reply. His astonishment at the compliment made the detective smile. He settled for taking the proffered hand and nodding his head. It was the first time in over twenty years of service that anyone had said thank you to him. They shared the silence of the church. Tracy had talked about the fear she had had, the bad feelings about Nick's assignment, from the day he had left. About the assault and the beating he had taken. About how she thought he must be feeling. About her own feelings and fears. About facing him again. Tracy had talked. Vachon had listened. Her tears had dried and the comfort of his presence filled her need. Now, they shared the silence. '9 April Nick, I had a visitor tonight. An older man from your past. He was concerned about your absence. I guess there were just some people you didn't want to know where you were going. I want you to know that I honored this decision of yours. The decisions you make concerning the people in your past are yours to make. It is not my place to question that. Although my guest obviously did. If there is any information you would wish me to pass along in this regard I would be happy to do so. Just let me know. Please let me hear from you, Nick. I would like to know you are well. My prayers are that this is true. I pray for your well-being, physically and otherwise. We are more than body's, more than mind's. We are souls on our respective journey's. I pray your journey today is one of discovery and filled with the hope of promise. Nat' Nick had an overwhelming need to talk to her. Opening the door to his room he requested a phone be brought to him. The officer returned with a cellular phone in less than five minutes. Once alone again, he dialed her number. She returned his gaze. Whatever he had planned to do was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. He remained where he was. Too close to allow her to stand. Towering over her in expectation of her reply. They heard her answering machine play it's message followed by the beep. "Nat? Are you there? It's Nick. Nat?" Moving with speed beyond her visual power to perceive LaCroix answered the phone. "Nicholas, so nice to hear your voice. I hope you are well." LaCroix continued to fix Nat with his gaze. "LaCroix. What are you doing there? Where is Natalie?" Nick was instantly concerned. It was well into the day. If LaCroix was at Nat's apartment he would have to remain there the rest of the day. Why would he be there? Looking again at the letter in his hand the implications of LaCroix's visit struck him. His concern melted into fear for her safety. "LaCroix, if you hurt her..." "I assure you, Nicholas, she is quite well at the moment." He interrupted his son. "We were simply having a discussion." "About what, LaCroix? I thought we had agreed that you would let me live my life." "If I had stuck to our agreement, my boy, you would be dead right now." The tone he took with Nicholas was that of a patient parent chastising a wayward youth. Nick knew that LaCroix had saved his life. "I know. Nat told me. And I'm grateful. But what has that got to do with her?" She noted the look of surprise that flashed across his countenance and then was gone. Whatever Nick was saying to him was not what he had expected to hear. "Nicholas. If I had but known where you were, none of this misfortune needed to have befallen you. It ALL could have been prevented." So, he was blaming Nat for not revealing Nick's location to him when he had visited. Damn. It just never occurred to Nick to tell LaCroix. He would have only been angry. "It's not her fault, LaCroix. I wanted to do this, to take the assignment. She didn't tell you where I was because she thought that is what I wanted. I didn't tell you because I knew you would be angry. If you are going to blame anyone, blame me. Leave her out of it." He wouldn't be able to reach her. Whatever LaCroix had planned for her, it would be done long before he could get there, even if he braved the sunlight to do it. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 37) by Carrie Krumtum Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his link with his creator. He wanted to know what LaCroix's intentions were, if he could glean the information from their bond, and, he wasn't at all sure that he could. Beyond that, he wanted LaCroix to sense his own feelings on the matter clearly. Nat had no responsibility in his decision. "LaCroix, listen to me. Nat didn't want me to take this assignment from the beginning. She thought it to dangerous. It was me. I was the one who insisted on trying. You know I am telling you the truth. You always say that I can't lie to you. What do your senses tell you now?" Indeed, LaCroix felt the tremors of Nicholas' presence along the strands of their link. His effort to rescue his precious mortal love was admirable, if somewhat belated. Still, there was nothing but the wholesale air of truth in what he heard and felt from his son. And his concern for her carried with it the implied threat of his son's anger with LaCroix for his intrusion into her life. "There is more than enough blame to go around, Nicholas. I will not be discounted. Your lack of faith in me is distressing in the extreme. I would have thought that, by now, you would know better." "She is an innocent. She would have told you if I had given her permission." "And how do you know that?" LaCroix was incredulous. The doctor would have done exactly as she saw fit to do. She was a woman of singular mindedness. "Because she wrote to ask me what I wanted her to do." Nick read the first half of the letter that he held in his hand to LaCroix. Nat saw that LaCroix's expression had change from incredulity to one of thoughtfulness. Whatever Nick was telling him must have had the ring of truth in it. "I see." "Leave her, LaCroix. You saved my life, and I am grateful. I am in your debt. That will not change, if you leave her." Nick knew he ran the risk of angering him. He would kill him if he harmed Nat in anyway. He would kill him, or die in the attempt. He was sure LaCroix could sense that across their link as well. It was a strange mixture of gratitude and anger that he felt from Nicholas. Familiar though. Nicholas had been the one to set the things in motion that resulted in his own injury. How ironic. How very typical. "Don't worry, Nicholas. She will be quite well on you return. I will expect a visit from you. Soon. We have much to discuss." At the other end of the line, Nick breathed a silent sigh of relief. "As soon as I am finished here. It is still day." "Yes, it is." LaCroix replied. And with that, he hung up. Damn. He redialed her number. LaCroix sat down on the couch again. She was about to ask him what had happened when the phone rang for the second time during their...conversation. This time, she rose and answered it. "Hello?" "Nat? It's me. Are you all right?" Nick's voice was filled with his concern for her. "Yes." Nat was sure that LaCroix could hear every syllable Nick was saying. Nick would know that as well. "Get out of there. Go to my place." He wanted to get her away from LaCroix. The last thing she needed to do was hang around there long enough for LaCroix to change his mind. Something he was very capable and likely of doing. "Nick..." She began. "Nat, just get out of there. I'll talk to you later. Do you understand?" He didn't feel that they had time to discuss this in committee. "Yes." She assured him. "Are you all right?" He sounded tired. "I'm fine." His response was filled with impatience. He was not the least bit concerned about himself at the moment. "Please do as I ask." "I will." If LaCroix let's me out of here, she thought. Nick needed to take care of himself. There was nothing he could do for her now. He was trapped in the prison until sunset. He needed rest. "Get some rest, Nick. I'll see you tonight." She hung up. LaCroix had half turned his head and waited for her to move back around into his field of vision. "How touching." "He sounded tired. He will require more time to get his full strength back." She explained. "I wasn't referring to your concern for his health." The look on his face was now the common mask of impenetrability that she was most used to seeing there. Rest. How could he rest? He spent the next hour drinking the rest of the contents of the bottle he had opened and worrying about her. He hadn't even thought about LaCroix blaming Nat. It was his fault that LaCroix had gone to her in the first place. He took a deep breath. Damn. Nat. He just wished he could be certain that he could trust LaCroix. He couldn't, of course. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 38) by Carrie Krumtum The loft was quiet. She decided to get some sleep. It would be several hours before sunset and time to pick Nick up at the prison. She would make it a point to be well on her way before dusk. LaCroix wouldn't leave her place until it was dark. The fact that he had let her go still surprised her. Surprised and frightened her. Just because she was still alive didn't necessarily mean she would stay that way... Vampires. What had happened to her since she had learned of their existence? Since one particular vampire changed her whole life. She lived in fear of the Enforcers, now in fear of LaCroix. She lived with her loneliness. Her need for Nick. Her love for him. A hopeless love. Sometimes, the hope of their relationship, it's promise, if Nick could become mortal again, filled her with a joy that she had never experienced before. At other times, the sadness of it all made her cry. What a life. Her life. She fell asleep on Nick's bed thinking about her life. How she really couldn't imagine it without him. "You know what? If I had known you were a cop, I would have done all the things you say I did to ya. And more." Griff said. All the heat in the world wouldn't make him admit to nothing. He had heard about all the confessions. He wasn't going to confess to taking a dump, much less doing anything to the newbe. This guy should be dead. He had been shanked in the heart. Griff couldn't believe that he was sitting across the table from him. He grinned. Why get all concerned anyway. He was doing life. What were they going to do to him? Make him live in two cells instead of one? Right. Robertson had noticed that Knight seemed even more fatigued when he returned from the break than he had before he went to get some rest. He seemed to be having a harder time now as well. Knight was sitting stiffly in his chair. His fists were clenched so tightly now that his fingers blanched white. What little color he did have had drained from his face. And his eyes! The look in his eyes gave Robertson the creeps. He addressed Griffin, "We have the guard who released you from solitary in custody. We have the statements from all of the other inmates. We have the eyewitness testimony of the victim. And still you insist that you had nothing to do with the assault on Detective Knight?" "That's right. I don't know nothing about nothing. But, I'm kind of sorry I missed all the excitement." He sat back in his chair and laughed. The sound of the laughter was the last sound he made before being pulled from his chair. Robertson hadn't even seen Knight move. The guard's reaction was far to slow to protect Griffin. And Griffin's attorney didn't seem to understand just what was going on. Griff could do nothing but stare at those eyes. Golden eyes, so filled with anger that he could hardly think. His head was pinned back against the wall, he couldn't look away from those eyes. He felt his mind drawn into those eyes. Then he heard a voice in his head. A voice so filled with power and threat that he could feel nothing but terror at the sound of it. And his terror rose so rapidly that he pissed in his pants. "You think this is funny? Do you? DO YOU?" He shook his head minutely. It was all the movement the grip around his throat allowed. "KNIGHT!" Robertson shouted. "Let him go, Knight. Come on. This isn't the way. Knight!" "You have only one chance to live. You have one chance. Tell the truth. The whole truth. You got that? GOT IT?!" Griff nodded his head. He was trying to break free of the grip on his throat. It was getting hard to breath. He would tell them everything. He just wanted to get away from those eyes, that voice, that grip. He just wanted away from this guy. Nick felt the guard's pull on the back of his shirt. Robertson was shouting at him. He let go of Griffin and stepped back closing his eyes to prevent anyone else from seeing the flames that danced there. He just couldn't listen to another second of that smug laugh. That mocking laugh. That laugh that reminded him of the pain. Centuries of pain that had seemed to return to him yesterday. In the midst of the attack, when he listened to the laughter, the mocking, the ripping apart of his physical body, his weak body, the body that he wanted to be human again, he could hear the mocking laughter of his creator. His quest to be mortal, human, was not a whim, it was the salvation of his soul. He would never give it up. Not for LaCroix, and not for men such as these. Men who sought to control him and others like him, the victims who cannot live without hope. Griffin, Hardesty, Conley, LaCroix. They were alike in this one respect. They sought to dominate without understanding or caring. They sought to destroy a man's dreams. Break a man's spirit. Only this time, they had chosen the wrong man. He would not let himself be destroyed. He would not relinquish his hope. Ever. The guard continued to hold to Knight until Robertson nodded to him. Knight remained unmoving for several minutes. Griffin had retreated behind his attorney and was blabbering about telling them everything if they just kept Knight away from him. Whatever Griffin had seen in Knights face, it had him sufficiently scared. Fear could motivate. It would also be considered intimidation. Coercion. There was a fine line between admissible confessions and coerced confessions. Knight had crossed the line. Not that it really mattered. There was enough evidence to convict Griffin without a confession. Still, Knight had been involved enough. Robertson could tell that he was not able to deal with these interrogations anymore. "Look, Knight. I think you've had enough. We'll take it from here." Nick took a deep breath. He was settling down now. Enough to look back at Fred Robertson and the guard with clear blue eyes, anyway. "Yeah. I've had enough." The tone in his voice made Griffin shrink back against the far wall. "Why don't you go get some more rest. You look like hell." Knight did. How he found the strength to pull Griffin out of his chair like he did was a complete mystery to Robertson. But then, Knight seemed to be a complete mystery period. "Thanks." Nick waited for the guard to unlock the door and he headed back to the room. His thoughts were on the battle he waged within to control his anger. It wouldn't do to leave a line of drained bodies in the corridors of the prison. It just wouldn't do. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 39) by Carrie Krumtum The assignment had had a marginal success. The warden, corrupt guards and inmates who were responsible for the death of Billy Talvert would meet justice. Polchevsky had been to the room to tell him that the interrogations with Conley and Hardesty were going well. They were spending so much time pointing the finger at each other that they were hanging themselves. McCabe had confessed. Griffin had refused to leave the interrogation room until he had been allowed to confess. The Solicitor General was happy with everything but the fact of his assault. There was a commendation waiting for him. So much for success. The other reason he had been willing to take the assignment had been his own personal agenda. And that now lay in a shambles. He had not been able to eat enough protein to meet his needs. As a matter of fact, he had noted no change in the vampire at all. Nothing but weakness, dizziness and hunger. What if Nat had been wrong? Or what if it was the diet? How would he know? If Nat is right about the blood, and the problem had been the diet Nick had been eating, how long would the conversion take? If Nat was right.... Nat. What about the danger he had placed her in? LaCroix. Of course, he would blame Nat. She was convenient. LaCroix could never see that it was his own attempts to control Nick that pushed him away. Nick just couldn't continue to be the killer he had been. The vampire. He had to escape. Or die trying. Even a death like that he had almost suffered in this prison. There was no way he could make LaCroix understand. Understand that the assault and stabbing was preferable to an eternity of damnation. He was already in hell. How could what happened to him be worse? Oh, but it had been. In it's own way. The pain. The memories of all the violations. How many lives had he ripped apart? How many men and women had HE violated, playing God? How many? The assault was nothing more than a reminder that he was subject to the evil of inhumanity just as his own victims had been. The thought did not lessen the pain. It merely placed it in some semblance of order for him. A framework of reference to help him handle the pain. Handle it until the pain faded. The pain always faded. But not the guilt. Never the guilt. That he would carry with him. It was his penance. The wages of his evil. What about the innocent victims? Like Billy Talvert. Like Chap. He decided to go and see Chap. He hadn't seen him since before Chap had been beaten. He needed to see him. To apologize. Pain. Guilt. Anger. He could sense all of theses things in Nicholas. LaCroix scanned the books that lined the shelves in Natalie Lambert's apartment. Medical books, novels, mostly romances, and poetry. There was also a book on archeology with an inscription from Nicholas on the title page. It read: To Nat, who looks for the reasons and searches for answers on my behalf. I am grateful. Nick. He is grateful to her. HER. What about his own kind? What about his creator? LaCroix slammed the book shut and replaced it. He knew why Nicholas would not feel those things for him. Not now. Nicholas could not accept his vampiric nature. He never really had. From the very beginning LaCroix knew that that had been true. Nicholas had played at the game of his life for centuries. But he had never been able to get past the guilt. The human conscience. He had remained bound to his humanity. Dr. Lambert was merely the newest symbol of his glorified dream. She had become the image of his grail. Not that LaCroix couldn't sense a real love between them. Nicholas had tried to hide his feelings for her. With nominal success. But as time had passed and the links to this present life he attempted to lead in their world strengthened, the fact of their love became more and more obvious. He understood. Far more than either of them would care to believe.... Nicholas would have to continue his quest until he was convinced it was futile. Who knew how long that would take? LaCroix could be patient. This mortal lifetime was all too short. This mortal love would wither and die. LaCroix would be waiting for Nicholas when it did. If, as Dr. Lambert had suggested, Nicholas still had a love for him, he would return. LaCroix would wait. He could afford to be patient. He had the time... Chap smiled at his visitor. Nick looked really pale. Nick was up and around, though, while he was still in bed. But then, Nick was young and strong. You had to be to go through all the crap he had been through. Not that he looked it when Chap first laid eyes on him. Nick had proven to be a surprise to everyone. A big surprise. "How are you doing?" Nick asked. Chap still had the bruises that were proof of the beating he had taken. "Doc says I'm going to be just fine. Just not as young as I used to be. Not like you." Nick returned Chap's smile, although for a different reason than Chap thought. "I'm glad to hear that." "Yeah, me too. Listen, Nick." Chap sat up a little more in his bed. "I hear you're a cop. Undercover and all. That right?" Nodding his head he answered, "Yeah, that's right." "Why'd you bother to come in here? We're all just cons. Nobody's. Why'd you let yourself be put through all this for us? I don't get it." Chap really wanted to know what would make a young man risk his life for a group of felons he had never met before. It had been his experience that no one does nothing for you unless there's something in it for them. What didn't make sense to Chap was what could possibly be in this for Nick. Nick looked thoughtful for a moment before he replied. "I guess it's because I don't believe that anyone is expendable. No one is unimportant. Someone needed to care that Billy Talvert died. That men like you would be victimized by men like Griffin." Chap regarded him for a minute. Nick was telling him the straight stuff. Of that he was sure. But that wasn't all of it. "There are other reasons too, aren't there?" Nick smiled again. "Yeah." He wasn't willing to elaborate anymore. It was obvious that Nick wasn't going to explain his other reasons. Chap could understand that. There are just something's that a man can't explain, or shouldn't have too. Nick was an honorable man. That was enough for Chap. The smile disappeared from Nick's face and was replaced with one of supplication. "Chap. I wanted to say that I'm sorry you got hurt. I never wanted anyone else to be injured. Not on my account." "Nick. It wasn't your fault. Guy's like Griff, they always try to get to guy's like us. You and me, we're just another target to him. It's okay. I been in here long enough to know the score on that one." Chap told him. Nick regarded his new friend. "Thanks." "Don't sweat it. You know something, Nick?" Chap had a mischievous look on his face. He grinned. "What?" "I never met a cop before that I could honestly say I liked. Until now. Who would have thought, huh? That I'd meet a cop in the joint. And that I'd be able to call him a friend." Chap extended his hand to his new friend. Nick took the hand offered to him. "A friend." All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Part 40) by Carrie Krumtum Driving with tears in your eyes is not all that difficult. She had been doing it for nearly an hour now. It was a relief of the tension. A release of all the pent up concern and fear and anger and guilt. It was how she coped with it all, now. Nick was safe. He would live. Thank God. She may have been wrong about the blood. Maybe it was too soon to tell about that. There were other variables she needed to consider in regards to this issue. The nature of Nick's diet, the levels of stress he was under, the length of time of Nick's abstinence. There were just too many questions concerning it to declare that avenue closed yet. And then there was LaCroix. What was she going to tell Nick? That was a dumb question, she told herself. She would tell him everything. Nick wouldn't settle for less. Not if there was a danger to her. That was her Nick. Her Nick. The pain rose into her throat and the tears renewed their trek down her face. What must it be like for him? The pain of the assault. The fear of LaCroix's threat to her. The confrontation with his attackers. His failure to come across. God. She hurt for him. And because of him. What her feelings for him did to her. Made her ache. She wanted to be there for him and be a thousand miles away. She wanted to be held by him and never see him again. She wanted to give herself to him and run from the horror of what he had been, still was to some degree. It was insanity. Her life, her reality. She was sure that if she tried to explain it to anyone else, they would surely think her insane. So, lost in the turmoil of her emotions, of her life, she cried as she drove towards the center of the storm. Tracy prepared to go on shift. She hadn't been home that long. A couple of hours. She had slept for several hours at the church, surrounded by Vachon's arms. He had held her. He had listened to her. He had just been there for her. And he was a vampire. This was crazy, she told herself. Really crazy. She was falling in love with a vampire. A vampire, for crying out loud. What would her parents think of that? They would think she was certifiable, that's what they would think. Especially her father. He was such a skeptic. Just like Nick. Thank God for that. Nick was coming back tonight. Reese had called to tell her that Natalie was on her way to the prison right now to pick him up. She couldn't wait to see him. To make sure he was all right. To beat some sense into that thick skull of his. She was never going to let him do anything like this again. Not as long as he was her partner. And, despite all the ribbing she took from him, she was very happy that he was still her partner. Very happy. The news of Nick's return had spread in the precinct. The squad room had been decorated. The Solicitor General had sent a letter of thanks to the Commissioner. Nick was a legend in his own time. He would return to the precinct to a warm welcome tonight. Reese sat in his office and thought about how that might make Nick feel. Not that he could change it. The news of Nick's assault had spread like wildfire. He had been through one hell of an ordeal. He might not find all of the fuss quite as heart warming as it was intended. He just hoped that Nick would heal, really heal after everything calmed down. He was a good man. A good detective. Hell, he had just proven he was one of the best. He was in the air at the first hint of nightfall. He had a monologue to deliver and a son to chastise. His evenings schedule was already quite full. "Are you sure you're feeling strong enough to travel?" Randy Polchevsky asked Knight. "Yeah, I'm sure. I've got to get out of here sometime. Might as well be tonight. Dr. Lambert will be with me, if I need anything. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Nick replied. Randy had been checking in on him almost hourly all afternoon. Nick just wanted to be out of the prison. To be away from the smell of the place. There was so much he needed to do, not the least of which was to deal with LaCroix. And Nat. There was a lot that still needed to be discussed between them. The memory of the fear in her voice haunted him. She had called to say she was on the way to the prison. She had spent the day at his loft since leaving LaCroix. And her voice had been filled with a fear that spoke of the trouble she was having in dealing with all of this. He wouldn't be able to see her soon enough to suit him. By the time she arrived at the prison it was fully dark. Her eyes had cleared some, but there was still evidence of her tears in her face. She freshened up her make-up as best she could and went to the yard door. Now that she was there, all she really wanted was to see Nick again. To be sure that he was all right. All thoughts of running from him were gone. He still needed her. She would be there for him. There was no other choice for her, not now. God help me, she prayed, I love him. After Randy had left, Nick made sure he disposed of the last bottle of blood. He had drank all that remained of the blood that day. It would be a while before he was able to get back to his own loft and then to the butcher's for a fresh supply. He felt nearly one hundred percent now. But he still fatigued a bit too easily. It would take a few more days for him to feel completely normal. Physically anyway. The rest would take longer. Making sure he had the library book and her letters, Nick left the room and headed for the door that he had entered the prison through. It seemed so long ago now. Too long ago in a life that had lasted centuries. Before he could round the corner of the building just above the administrative offices he sensed her. He could hear the heart beat that had become an unconscious part of his world. He could smell her, the scent of her blood, his shampoo on her hair, her perfume, and the faint odor of tears recently shed. The knowledge of that last fact made him long to hold her. To comfort her. This was all very hard on her as well. He had known it would be even before he accepted the assignment. The events of the past twenty four hours had proven to be more that either of them had bargained for. He rounded the corner of the corridor to see her moving up the hallway towards him in the company of a guard. She stopped when she saw him. The look on her face spoke of her turmoil, her fear. She needed him as much as he needed her. Nick could tell by the look on her face that she had struggled with her need today. He moved to her and took her into his embrace. They held each other. He held her to dispel her fear. She held him to dispel his pain. They held to each other as if to a lifeline. In the midst of a prison, as they shared that moment of comfort, they found the strength to believe that they both would be free. That they both were free. Free to love each other. All the freedom that they needed, they had, in each other. All comments and virtual chocolate to Carrie, Proud Knightie Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com This story is based on characters created by J. Parriott and B. Cohen for the TV series Forever Knight. Knight Confessions (Epilog) by Carrie Krumtum They ate their dinner as they talked. Nick was eating his usual, steak tartar. Nat had ordered the halibut. She loved sea food. They had tickets to see A Winter's Tale that evening. Tonight was the first time they had been out since Nick had returned from prison. The invitation had surprised Nat. Nick had been so introspective lately. And with good reason. They had talked almost daily since the assault. Nick was dealing with his anger and guilt. The assault had dredged up some old pain as well. Pain associated with Nick's relationship with LaCroix. That was by far the hardest thing for him to deal with. Ever since the night she brought him home... Nick had seen LaCroix that night. At the club after his monologue. A monologue about the wounds ungrateful and rebellious children give their parents. He had challenged LaCroix about his confrontation with Nat. "She is an innocent, LaCroix. Your argument, if you have one, is with me." "She is unharmed. I cease to see the relevance of your concern." LaCroix's dismissive tone had only angered him. "I do not want a threat hanging over Natalie's head. I want you to promise to leave her out of anything problem that you may have with me." Nick could only hope that he would sense any duplicity in the link that he shared with LaCroix. LaCroix had regarded him for several seconds. "I am the one who made you, Nicholas. You would do well to remember that when next you contemplate overlooking the need to inform me of things that might be concern to me." Nick returned his creators gaze. "I'm sorry about that. And I am grateful. You saved my life. I am in you debt." "Yes, you are, Nicholas. I will be watching. There will be a time when I shall ask for payment." LaCroix turned from him to return to the recording studio. Nick looked after him. He had the distinct feeling that LaCroix would honor his agreement to leave his life be. As long as Nick was willing to give him some room in his life. As long as he was a vampire, there would always be a place in his life for LaCroix. For good or bad, he did not know. Until he achieved mortality, he would always be a child of LaCroix. Natalie had struggled with her feelings as well. She had been very concerned about her role in the weakness Nick had experienced as a result of the abstinence from the blood. Nick had tried to reassure her that he did not feel she was at fault. Nick had considered the kind of diet he had been eating during his incarceration. The foods he had described didn't hold very high protein values. Instead, they were high in carbohydrates. What Nick would need, if he was ever to convert from a blood protein diet to solids was a very high protein content in his food. They had agreed to try again to limit his blood intake, but they would take it slowly. Her fear had begun waned as the days went by without any further contact with LaCroix. Nick had dealt with LaCroix. They seemed to have come to some sort of understanding. Nick would give him a place in his life, and LaCroix would leave Nick's life decisions to Nick. At least it seemed to be working out that way for the past few weeks... He was staring at her. She noticed that this time he had eaten almost all of his dinner. "You ate very well. I think you deserve a reward for your efforts." She smiled at him. "I've got it already." He returned her smile. "Oh really. And just what might that be?" His smile seemed to brighten the room. "I get to spend my time with the most beautiful woman in the city." He noted her blush and it made him laugh. He meant every word of it. Being with her made him feel joy. It was a simple freedom. One he would never lose his appreciation for. "Tiny. You've got a visitor." Fitzgerald told him. He hadn't had a visitor in almost ten years. "Who is it?" Tiny asked as he stood up and headed out of his cell to follow Fitzgerald to the visiting hall. Fitzgerald smiled. "Just a guy who says he's here to see you." It didn't really matter who it was. Tiny would go and see him. It might be another ten years before he got another visitor. Although, the past few weeks had been better time to serve. Chap had proved to be a good friend. He had taught Tiny to play chess. To Chap's delight, Tiny had proven to have a knack for the game and was learning rapidly. Just yesterday Tiny had taken Chap's king for the first time. If there was one good thing that came out of the big shake up since Nick had arrived, it was his friendship with Chap. Tiny entered the visiting hall and sat down at the table that the guard indicated. The door to the other end of the room opened and his visitor entered. Tiny couldn't believe his eyes. His visitor reached his table and extended his hand to Tiny. "It's good to see you." Nick said. He took the hand that was proffered. Nick was the last person in the world that he had expected to see there. Tiny had figured that Nick would never want to see the prison again. If it had been him that had gone through the mill, he sure as hell would never have come back. But, like Tiny had told Chap, Nick was just chock full of surprises. Nick sat down across from Tiny at the table. The look of open surprise on the big man's face made him smile. "How have you been?" Tiny finally found his tongue. "Just the same. Ornery as hell." Laughing, Nick again noted the irregularity of the big man's heart rate and the slight difficulty breathing that he was having. Nick had noted in Tiny's prison file that he had no living family. The last visitor he had had was a woman, his girlfriend before incarceration, ten years ago. Nick felt like it was the least he could do to visit Tiny. He had been corresponding with Chap since he had left the prison. Chap kept him informed on Tiny's progress with his chess playing and had promised to keep Nick's pending visit a secret. The two men talked about the changes in the prison since Nick's stint on the inside. Tiny talked about the changes in the behavior of Griff and the hounds. They had become like different men. It was weird, but it made life in the cell block easier on everyone else. The guards treated the inmates better and the new warden, though an ass, was a distinct improvement over Hardesty. They visited for nearly an hour. The guard moved to the table to lead Tiny back to his cell. Nick held up his hand and asked the guard to wait a minute. He left the room briefly and returned with a note from the warden for the guard instructing him to allow Nick to give the present he now held to Tiny. "Go ahead, open it." Nick told Tiny, with obvious pleasure. "What is it?" Tiny looked at the present. He couldn't even remember the last present he had been given. "Just open it. You'll see." Nick was grinning from ear to ear. Tiny removed the wrapping paper and opened the cardboard box that the paper had surrounded. He pulled out a chess board and chess pieces. Hand carved pieces made of wood. Black walnut and pine. They were beautiful. He turned the pieces over in his big hands. When he looked up into Nick's face there were tears in his eyes. "Damned it you still aren't just chock full of surprises." It was all he said. End Carrie, Proud Knightie CKrumtum@gnn.com