FIC: the spot where I am mortal [forever knight]

[abby82]

the spot where I am mortal
by abby82


rating: PG-13 for some suggestiveness 
word count: 8573
disclaimer: I'm only borrowing them, no money is being made. Ownership lies elsewhere. Forever Knight was created by Jim Parriott & Barney Cohen.
author's note:  Hi, Hello! I come bearing a 15 year old fic on this the 30th anniversary of Forever Knight. I started writing it around the show’s 15th anniversary and it took that long for it to see the light of day. I kinda like the symmetry. Totally intentional…right? The story was inspired by an image of Geraint Wyn Davies from a 2006 episode of 24. He looked like an older, contemplative Nick looking outside the window of the loft.
story began: November 2007
story finished: May 2022
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr

summary: This will be his last sunrise here. Tomorrow he leaves...alone

now

There are ghosts in the second floor loft at 101 Gateway Lane. They’ve always been there, only before they would silently slip away at the approach of the space’s occupants. Discreetly, they would reenact scenes of the past in a continuous loop with no one ever the wiser. Nick Knight sees those ghosts now. At first they were painful; then he accepted them. They are, after all, a part of him and a part of this place. They haunt him incessantly, now. Even the pleasant and joyous ghosts. They remind him of the precious time that has slipped through his fingers and of the moments the loft has witnessed. Part of him can’t bear to leave. This loft has been his home for years now. It’s been their home. The other part of him wants to put as much distance between him and the ghosts of the past. Distance might not silence them, but Nick hopes that it will at least dull the voices. They’re the remnants of a life that at times no longer feels like his and they fill every nook and cranny of the space.

 

then

“Yeah, this is Nick Knight. I’m either in bed or incommunicado.”

 

In the beginning the unanswered ringing of the phone had been met with the short, husky, and slightly brash message. Nick hadn’t put much thought to it. It was the first thing that came to mind when he pressed record. It was also his first answering machine. He hadn’t needed one before, but his decision to re-enter society made it necessary. Even confined to the night shift Nick Knight needed to be accessible. A crooked smile had graced his features when he’d finished recording the message.

 

+

 

The blinds of the loft are open slightly, letting in the last rays of the late afternoon sun. The light that illuminates the room is not so much for Nick’s benefit but for Natalie’s. She had wanted to watch the Jay’s playoff game with him on TV but what she found instead was the landing just outside the elevator littered with old newspapers, motorcycle parts, grease, and one filthy vampire. In the background the radio is tuned into a station broadcasting the game, but that didn’t do much to ease her initial disappointment. Her response was a pout when Nick proceeded to sing the praises of the auditory experience a good radio announcer could provide. “Not as good as the visual experience,” she had muttered and had continued to shoot him daggers for a good part of the next half hour.

Now she’s perched on his piano bench like a pixie observing his handiwork. One of her legs hangs over the edge and she swings it back and forth trying to distract him. The Jays have fallen behind but every now and then she cocks her head to the side and turns her attention towards the sound of Tom Cheek’s voice as he relays the events of the game.

“You actually ever use this thing?” Natalie asks, her foot lightly kicking the motorcycle’s back tire.

“On occasion, but mostly when I first arrived in the city. It has been a while though...stop it,” he scolds.

She apparently doesn’t find him very threatening because instead of dutifully ceasing her teasing she sticks her tongue out at him and increases her playfulness. Nick can’t help but grin. It’s a little unsettling how comfortable she is with him but he does look forward to her company, even if she can really frustrate him sometimes. But then again when Nick accepted her offer to help in his search for his mortality he just about gave her carte blanche to pick at him literally and figuratively. Besides, she’s a pleasant departure from the type of existence he had been leading since he arrived in Toronto a few years ago.

“Wanna go for a spin when I’m done? It should be dark by then. There’s a helmet around here somewhere.”

The surprise in her eyes and the flattering rosiness that appears on her cheeks tells him that she hadn’t expected that kind of invitation.

“That’s a really tempting offer Nick but I’m afraid I can’t tonight. I kind of have a date.”

“’Kind of’? So who’s the lucky guy?” Nick asks, returning his attention back to the electrical wiring of his bike but curious about the guy Natalie would go for.

“He’s a stringer. The Star’s been using a lot of his stuff lately, rain check?”

“Sure thing, now do I detect a bit of pride in your voice,” Nick teases. “I take it this isn’t a first date.”

“Very astute of you, Detective Knight. No, it isn’t a first date.” Natalie smiles warmly. “It’s been pretty casual. His work is pretty erratic and God knows my hours aren’t exactly ideal for a budding romance.”

“So what’s on the agenda for the evening? A romantic candlelit dinner for two, a night at the ballet, and then you cap it all off with drinks at an upscale bar?

“Well, unfortunately my ball gown is at the cleaners, so that would be a big no to all of the above. Tom and I are going to check out the carnival that’s taken up shop over by the lake. He’s planning a fun filled evening complete with cotton candy, fake fortune tellers, and crooked Carney games.”

“You don’t need to go to a carnival to know your future. I can do that right here,” Nick announces. He moves to grab a hold of her hand but when Natalie pointedly looks at his greasy hands he obligingly wipes them clean on a rag he’d been using. He makes a show of consulting her palm and tracing her life line while at the same time making speculative noises with his throat.

“Natalia,” he begins with a raspy, whispered and Russian accented voice. “The night shifts that plague you will at one point become a thing of the past. Patience will be required of you so rest easy knowing that there will be an end in sight. In the meantime cherish the sunrises you do see because you are clearly not a morning person.” Nick almost breaks down laughing at the sight of Natalie’s indignation towards his comment. “Your dependence on that wretched morning caffeinated drink is very evident. Oh, and what is this? Ah you are a blessed one aren’t you? The Moirae have smiled on you. You will find an amazing one day only sale on laundry detergent soon so please act fast, followed by the announcement that you have won a lifetime supply of cranberry juice.”

Her eyebrows shoot sky high and she tries to stifle a laugh.

“Cranberry juice?”

“Perhaps a red carbonated drink. It is not clear.” Nick proceeds to murmur indistinctly to himself as he pretends to decipher Natalie’s questionable future. He grabs her other hand in an attempt to appear thorough. “I got it! Definitely tomato juice,” he announces in his normal voice before he ducks Natalie’s attempt to whack him on the head. She loses her balance slightly and she reaches towards the piano to steady herself. Her hand lands on several keys and the sound of random notes fills the air between them. Natalie sheepishly rights herself but still manages a punch on his shoulder.

“If that’s true, that tomato juice is going in your veggie shakes.”

“Can I finish?” He asks and she hesitantly offers him her hand. It’s warm...and it’s soft. He likes that.

“Yes, Natalia, a number of people would kill to share your great fortune. Guard your bounty well. And now one final prediction, this evening’s gentleman friend will undoubtedly attempt to show you his affection in the giant airborne carriage. Do with that information what you choose,” Nick concludes with a self-satisfied smile and a wink.

“You know Nick I really don’t hope that you plan on making a career out of this because if it’s alright with you I’ll stick to the professional fakes. You just stick to police work.”

On the radio Tom Cheek picks that moment to launch into a series of verbal theatrics about the play in progress. Natalie turns away from him and towards the radio, her spine going taut in anticipation. “And a drive hit to right field, Sierra going back, looking up...and this game is tied, Roberto Alomar!”

“You know what that means.” She says turning back to him and flashing him a huge smile.

“Go team.”

 

now

From his perch by one of the windows Nick looks out into the late afternoon sun. It’s only an hour until sundown. This will be his last sunset here. Tomorrow he leaves...alone. The room is fully packed. Crates and boxes line the walls of the cavernous main room. Only the grand piano, ignored for months now and out of tune, and the leather couch remain where they’ve always been. Everything else, from the bedroom to the paintings and books have been meticulously packed away; leaving the space stripped of its personality. The movers will take it all tomorrow. The streaks of sunlight illuminate the forgotten piano as Nick makes his way to the instrument. He notes the fine film of dust that has accumulated on its surface. His fingers lightly play over the keys of the upper register, piercing the heavy silence in the loft before he retreats to the center of the room behind the couch.There’s no need for him to be there now but the loft calls out to him. The building that once offered him precious shelter and solitude now pleads with him to never forget; as if he ever could. Nick is here to answer that request one final time.

 

then

“You might be one of them someday but right now, right now I know exactly what you are.”

 

Janette was like a fine wine, absolutely intoxicating. When it came to her he could always be counted on to throw caution to the wind and that moment was no exception. It was the touch of her skin, the slinky texture of her dress, the heady aroma that was distinctly hers that captivated him. It had been centuries since their dalliance with domesticity and the wounds that had emerged from her rejection of him had long been healed. Nick had always been a romantic and he had wanted his love for Janette to be enough to sustain them both. She had been frightened of how much he had loved her and her instincts of self-preservation told her to run. He hadn’t known that then and he had hated her for it. His bruised ego wouldn’t let him see past his own pain. Janette had been right about one thing that day though. Since then there had been moments of renewed passions between them, but when it neared the time for him to leave and he lay awake in Janette’s arms and unable to sleep, he was further reminded of the world he was trying to free himself of. The quest for his humanity had become his reason for being and Janette was perfectly content with her existence as it was. There was no future for them and Nick accepted that. He and Janette wanted different things, but that didn’t mean he had to live like a monk.

 

+

 

The air outside is warm and the view of the harbor from the roof of his building is unobstructed. Recently building contractors have been sniffing around looking for prime real estate to develop and for the moment the neighborhood is devoid of construction cranes and makeshift protected sidewalks. Now if only Natalie would please decide to grace him with her presence. She’s on night shift rotation again and Nick is hoping that she’s able to trade off the rest of her shift before tonight’s festivities begin.

The sound of the garage opening down below announces Natalie’s arrival home as Nick takes another sip from his beer. Wine just doesn’t seem appropriate for a summer night outside with the woman he loves and a Canada Day light show compliments of the city of Toronto. It’ll only be a matter of minutes before she finds his note downstairs alerting her to his whereabouts. The minutes tick by slowly for Nick before the rooftop door finally opens and she emerges still dressed from work but also bearing a bowl of popcorn.

“You made it,” Nick says, stating the obvious.

“Just barely,” she responds as she settles beside him on the blanket he’d spread out. “Dr. Horwitz was quoting protocol to me about whether or not regulations would allow him cover for me. What’s the point of having rules if you can’t break them, right Nick? I finally had to shock him into submission. I told him I had plans to have my wicked way with you tonight,” Natalie laughs softly as she peppers Nick’s lower jaw line with a few lingering kisses. “Next time you see him he’ll probably be acting appropriately scandalized, so don’t take it personally.”

“Well just as long as you don’t damage my reputation completely, I’m sure I can live with it.”

“When’s showtime?” she asks, popping a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth and accepting the beer bottle Nick offers her.

“About 30 minutes.”

“What are we gonna do till then?” Natalie asks innocently as she lightly walks her fingers over one of his denim clad thighs.

Nick shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know about you but I’ve already started my party,” He says pointing to the two empty beer bottles lined up next to a small cooler. Natalie doesn’t have time to respond before he reaches across to cup her face and gives her a confident, demanding kiss. “Don’t you know that all my parties involve you?”

“Yeah, well a girl likes to hear it every now and then,” she responds before she continues their kiss.

Their hands travel freely, loosening restrictive clothes, teasing sensitive skin, and building up the mutual need between them. Not even the start of the fireworks display over the harbor removes their attention from each other. The amount of desire Nick sees on Natalie’s face surprises and thrills him. The enormity of the situation is not lost to him. Taking the final step in their relationship had been something they’d held off on and it certainly wasn’t something they wanted to rush into.

Nick had been skittish that the vampire might make a re-appearance and even though Natalie knew that Nick loved her she didn’t want him to feel obligated to her if for some reason his feelings had changed.

“You’re not going to make a liar out of me are you Nick?” she asks with a devilish smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

They’d been pushing the boundaries of propriety recently and everything had been leading to this very moment.

She’s straddling his lap; her very professional skirt is stretched to its limits, exposing a tantalizing amount of thigh, where one of Nick’s hands firmly rests. The other hand spans the skin of her back underneath her silky camisole. Her blouse had long been discarded, having been declared nothing but a nuisance by both Nick and Natalie. Natalie’s nimble fingers had done a quick job on the buttons of his shirt leaving his skin partially exposed to the summer air and her caresses. However, by far the most exhilarating feeling at the moment comes from Natalie’s body pressed up against his in all the right places.

“Not if you promise to be gentle.” Nick teases as he lightly rubs the skin right above her clavicle. He kisses her once more savoring the taste of her. It’s mixed in with the slightest hint of popcorn and the beer she’d only taken a couple of sips from.

She tastes like home Nick decides.

now

 

Even in the relative seclusion of the loft the sounds of the neighborhood can faintly be heard. Nearby buildings, once abandoned and solitary, are now filled with an influx of shops and restaurants. Highly priced, swanky living spaces now accommodate the young and urban professionals and the disposable incomes that help support their lifestyles. The view from the rooftop of the building has certainly changed. Despite the pleas from building developers, the two city employees living in the area’s lone holdout had no intention of selling and relocating, and after a while they eventually gave up. The construction has revitalized the area and the city is very happy with the results. Nick remembers the look of ecstasy on Natalie’s face when she first tasted the gourmet coffee offered by one of the neighborhood cafes. After that he’d made it a point to make sure they had the exact same coffee in the loft at all times. He treasures the memory of the coffee tinged kisses he’d shared with her in the mornings over the years. Although now the smell of coffee makes him slightly queasy. That’s all right though. At best he was a sporadic coffee drinker. He could use some now though. Exhaustion threatens to put his final farewell on hold.

 

then

“You're wrong, Nicholas. We are each other. You will always be mine. Eternally!”

 

Watching LaCroix step into the sun’s rays and proclaim his dominance over him had dampened his chemically induced endorphin high. The sinking feeling that had then settled in his stomach had been a familiar one. Mortal, vampire, or something in between—LaCroix would never release his hold on his wayward creation. Would there ever be anything that would make LaCroix turn around and walk away from him forever? Nick doubted it. He would run and LaCroix would follow. As long as he remained a vampire and linked to him Nick knew that LaCroix would always be near; but it disturbed him to think that even if he were to become mortal LaCroix would find some way to still exert his control over him. So as LaCroix continued to verbally assault his long held desire, in much the same way as he had in the past, a stray thought crossed his mind. LaCroix had voiced his disdain of Nick’s aspirations countless times before and while they had shared years of amicable accord before Nick knew that as a vampire and a creation of LaCroix he had been for the most part a disappointment. He’d failed to live up to whatever promise LaCroix had seen in him that night in Paris. The rejection of his “gift” was the ultimate insult. LaCroix has eluded as much in the past. Why then was he still here? One could presume that someone of LaCroix stature and prominence would prefer to rid himself of such a poor pupil and cut his losses, literally. But not LaCroix. He wonders if for LaCroix it would be like cutting off his own limb so he chooses to stubbornly cling to his gangrenous appendage rather than admit defeat and sever it—sever him off. He was forever bound to LaCroix and it was a very sobering thought.

 

+

 

The first thing Nick notices when he walks into the room is Natalie standing by the counter in the kitchen nook. The TV is turned on to the evening news and it prattles on in the background. She doesn’t acknowledge his arrival but her back visibly straightens so it doesn’t go unnoticed. Her flight was scheduled to come in at noon and when he’d spoken to her on the phone earlier everything was running on schedule.

That phone call had been marked with awkward pauses and the physical distance between them equaled the emotional one. The memory of the words they’d said to each other the morning before she’d left hung between them. It was evident that neither one of them had wanted to broach the topic over the phone.

The day of her flight Nick had wanted to take Natalie to the airport. He didn’t want her to leave and let the state of things between them fester but work demanded his attention. During her week-long absence Nick had closed one case, opened two others, done leg work to assist in another and mulled over how he and Natalie were going to resolve their argument. They needed to talk first and foremost and not shut each other out.

He figured she’d be exhausted after a week away but apparently not too exhausted to spend her first evening home baking cupcakes. The sweet smell of the dessert fills the room as he watches her spread chocolate frosting on the cooled surfaces.

Nick removes his suit jacket and it’s promptly joined by his gun holster on the banister by the elevator. He noiselessly walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist in a tight embrace. He nuzzles her hair aside and buries his nose into her neck breathing in the scent of her and of the nearby chocolate.

“These aren’t for you,” she remarks with a small chuckle. Her tone is one of amusement and there’s a playful timbre to it. The disquiet atmosphere between them has vanished as if never there, but Nick knows that it lies just beneath the surface.

“But I’ve been really good lately,” he whispers into her ear. “And I think I deserve some type of positive reinforcement.” Nick finishes by snatching the knife she’d been using, causing her to turn around and reach for it halfheartedly. “Wait a minute don’t tell me you baked these for another man,” his eyes narrow in mock accusation.

“Nine actually and three women,” her easy smile lightens up her entire face, “And I’d watch it if I were you. Nothing good ever happens when someone stands between forensics and their chocolate fix.”

With her eyes firmly locked on his Natalie leans forward pressing her body up to his and swipes the frosting covered knife back from its thief.

He’d missed her. A week was too long for them to be apart and the feel of her body up against his reminds him of his desire and longing for her. Natalie had placed the knife back in the bowl but some of its contents had marred her thumb. Grabbing her wrist he edges her thumb towards his mouth and sucks it clean. Her breathing shallows at his gesture. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers as he leans forward to capture her lips. It’s been almost a year but he’s still surprised when the beast that used to inhabit him fails to make an appearance when his passion for Natalie rises.

“I’ve missed you too,” she answers back when they finally part for air. The simple gold band on the chain around her neck clinks ever so slightly on one of the buttons of her blouse. “I’ve been doing some thinking about how we left things. You’re right about the promotion. I was petty and childish and wasn’t thinking things through. I guess I wasn’t aware of all the residual fear I still have. You’re so precious to me Nick.”

“We’ll sit down and talk; lay everything out on the table, everything we’re afraid to say but need to. But first, come upstairs, I want to welcome you home properly.” Her hooded eyes and dilated pupils tell him his invitation won’t be denied.

 

now

Morning announces itself when streaks of sunlight stream across the floor. Nick hadn’t meant to doze off, but he did. The promise of rest had proved to be too much of an allure for his exhausted mind and body. Unfortunately it had not been a recuperative sleep that he had achieved. It had been a while since he’d had one of those. Nick runs a tired hand through his hair as he rights himself on the couch. The two gold bands around his neck clink together and Nick reaches for them to soothe their smooth surfaces. It’s an action that has become routine—to confirm that they exist and that they remain as perfect as the day they were purchased. As much as he would have liked to have joined himself in Holy Matrimony to Natalie, after everything they had gone through together it almost felt like an afterthought to do so. He knew Natalie loved him and he her and in the end that was the only validation they needed. The rings were the only nod to convention they ever did and even then they were worn in non traditional ways. The rings were never removed and on the day that Natalie removed the chain with her ring from her neck and placed it in his hand Nick broke down and wept full body wrenching tears like he never had before. That was the moment he realized he was truly losing her and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

 

then

“Hey listen partner I really wanna thank you for helping me out with Cohen. That’s another one I owe you buddy...See you in a week.
Hasta la bye bye.”

 

Schanke’s message on the machine filled an empty room. He’d been in the shower when the call came in but he heard the message over the spray of the water. Afterwards he did get a chance to speak to Schanke one last time but that message was vintage Schanke—-full of bravado, humor, sarcasm, and a tiny twist of sincerity for good measure. Later, after the bomber's body had been locked away in the morgue, after the remains of the victims had been returned to their families, after he’d unpacked most of his belongings, after the memorial service, after he’d finally mustered the strength to clean out Schanke’s desk for Tracy, and after the funeral he couldn’t attend, Nick removed the tape from the answering machine and placed it away for safe keeping. Schanke didn’t belong among the relics of his previous lives but other than his memories, he had nothing left of his dear departed friend.

 

+

 

The rumbling of the loft’s elevator door breaks the silence that had settled in the loft. The light on the answering machine blinks announcing that Nick’s messages are waiting to be played. A lone lamp by the desk casts a soft glow against an otherwise dark room.

“Nat?” he calls out, looking up towards the bedroom but he gets no response. Her car is parked down below so she has to be there. The presence of her purse on the couch confirms his suspicions but Nick would feel better seeing her himself.

The further in he walks the more his eyes adjust to the darkness and he quickly realizes that she’s been in front of him the whole time—-sitting on the landing by the far staircase.

“Nat?” he calls again but she doesn’t move from her spot on the steps. One of her arms is wrapped around the railings, her head leans up on the banister. Nick crouches down in front of her but Natalie’s full attention is held by the brick wall behind him.

After a moment she tears her gaze from the space she’d been staring into and looks up at him. A glimmer of surprise crosses her face before quickly being replaced by something else that he recognizes but fails to understand. Drying tear tracks line her face. The pain that fills her eyes threatens to break his heart into a thousand pieces. At the sight of him her eyes had begun to shine with fresh tears that threatened to spill over.

“Nat, I’ve been worried,” He starts softly. “Grace called in a panic. She said you weren’t feeling well. That you left in a rush but she didn’t say why.”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t...it’s gone...I lost the baby...I’m so sorry Nick...I...”

Nick never lets her finish. The look he’d seen earlier—-it was shame. Nick knew it well and it killed him that Natalie was heaping the blame on herself. He sits next to her and promptly wraps his arms around her and pulls her to him. Natalie’s head lies on his chest and he strokes her hair with all the tenderness that he possesses.

“This isn’t your fault, Nat. You are not responsible. You know that. I know you do.”

He’s at a loss for words.

The gravity of the situation is starting to seep into his consciousness--miscarriage. It had always been a possibility but not one that either one of them had entertained for very long. Natalie was still young and healthy. News of the pregnancy had been a pleasant surprise. It was something that they’d spoken about but there had never been any actual movement towards it other than continuing to enjoy the relationship they were in.

“You’re my miracle Nick, but if God decides that he wants to send another one our way, well, I’m certainly not going to say no,” Natalie had told him just as they were dozing off one night. Her head had been resting on his bare chest and she turned it slightly to drop a kiss right above his beating heart. The soft rustle of the bed sheets accompanied the readjustment of her legs around his own and her tightening embrace around his waist. That night his dreams were visited by a young girl who’d inherited his and Fleur’s appetite for adventure and Natalie’s knowledgeable eyes. A studious young man with Richard Lambert’s spirit and his own mother’s infinite patience also entered his dreams.

Months later when Natalie had begun to feel queasy neither one of them had thought much about it. Stomach flu had already laid up half of the coroner’s office and she chalked it up to that. After that a missed period caused her some concern but as she phoned her doctor for a check up she assured him that she felt fine. Later, when she shared her news with him, her face glowing, he had lifted her up by the waist in excitement. She’d laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck in support.

He promised her on that day that he’d do everything in his power to protect them. Their little family would be safe from all natural and unnatural monsters.

The memory causes Nick’s vision to blur through his own tears and in response he tightens his hold on her. At that moment she chooses to look up at him and caresses his hair with one of her hands in comfort. Her other hand reaches for one of his and she holds it with a vise grip.

“We’re going to get through this. I know we are.”

He nods his head and she responds in a similar fashion. Together, at the base of the stairs Nick and Natalie silently cry for their lost child.

 

now

Nick traverses the outer wall of the loft; his hand rests against the cool brick as he traces the grooves of mortar with his fingertips. He’s almost there. The streaks of sun that normally hit his destination are absent in the light of the morning but that won’t make much difference. As he nears the far stairs he says a silent prayer to his and Natalie’s lost child. As he nears the spot where years ago an inflamed beam once threatened to impale him he says another prayer to the life lost that night. And when he reaches his destination he says a final prayer in thanks for the absolution given to him. The clean brick wall is a starch contrast to the scorch marks that still mark the elevator door on the opposite wall. One was a result of anger and the other of renewed hope. He and Natalie had embraced at that very spot the moment the realization had hit them.

“This is the spot where I am mortal.”

 

then

“Is what I am the thing that makes you so sad?”

 

He’d had a difficult time grasping what Natalie told him that morning so instead he’d focused on what was in front of him. The slowly healing burns on his hands and face were the improbability he’d chosen to address, but the dejected look on Natalie’s face told him he needed to ask the question that had been gnawing at him for a while now. Natalie’s a fighter. He knew that even though his absent memory told him there was no way he could have. He also knew that it was one of the things that he loved about her, but sitting with her on his kitchen table he had begun to see her resolve crack. She’d put on a brave face and answered his questions like she was reciting them from some unseen textbook about him. But apparently that textbook had been censored because she couldn’t answer all his questions. During that time he saw her slowly retreat behind the walls where she obviously hid her heart. What he was kept them apart she had said but that was another improbability he couldn’t quite see, not really. Her hands had trembled slightly last night, but they quickly became confident with each passing moment. He’d felt like a drowning man being allowed his first sight of rapidly approaching land and he never wanted to let her go. He was certain she felt the same way, which is why when she placed her hands to his chest to put some token distance between them he’d ignored their push and held them close. When she’d murmured that they shouldn’t, he smiled and continued to assault her lips. Finally he conceded to her whispered claims that the level of intimacy they were rapidly heading towards wouldn’t be a good idea in light of his recent trauma. The sight of her flushed, slightly disheveled, and lips swollen made it difficult for him to leave her but he had. He’d gone upstairs certain that wouldn’t be the last time he tasted her. But later, Natalie’s somber words were a verbal acknowledgment of what had awoken him that night. His troubled dream had both exhilarated and terrified him. The idea of possessing Natalie so completely in that way was intoxicating. When he’d allowed himself to revisit that dream it shamed him though. Only the dark recesses of his mind had entertained the possibility of bringing Natalie across. Afterwards, he couldn’t quite look her in the eyes. He’d experienced normal human desires that night, but apparently the vampire hidden within him didn’t want to share. It longed to claim Natalie as its own. In retrospect he had looked at those few stolen moments as a curse rather than a blessing. They’d both been shown what they could have together, and then it was torn away from them.

 

+

 

“Your doctor called,” his toneless voice travels the distance from where he sits by the fireplace to the elevator where she stands, covered in snow flurries.

His announcement only causes the briefest of pauses but Nick manages to catch it. She’s going to fight him on this. He can tell. Her posture stiffens and she defiantly sets her jaw. Natalie removes her knit cap, scarf, and leather gloves in a methodical yet clipped manner.

“He shouldn’t have.”

“He was concerned. He said you didn’t show up for a scheduled appointment and that it was important he speak with you...very important.”

“He shouldn’t have done that either.”

“Natalie, talk to me.”

The request obviously throws her off balance because her gaze instantly softens. She’d probably been expecting anger from him, which he doesn’t deny experiencing, alongside the hurt, confusion, and extreme worry.

“It’s just a missed appointment Nick,” she says as she sheds her overcoat and walks towards him. “It’s no big deal. What he has to tell me isn’t news so...” There’s an odd mixture of nonchalance and weariness in her voice. She reaches down and gives him a lingering kiss. “The snow is really coming down out there. Looks like we’re gonna have to batter down the hatches. Not a bad way to spend the weekend if I do say so myself.”

She moves to look out the window but Nick reaches out to one of her hands and threads his fingers with hers.

“The news that isn’t news...what is it?”

She looks down at their joined hands momentarily before raising her eyes to meet his. There’s a hardness in her gaze and when she realizes that he sees it she goes back to looking at their hands.

“You know it’s kind of ironic,” She begins as if this was a conversation they’ve had before. “For someone who had all the time in the world we sure as hell didn’t get a whole lot of it.”

The pit in his stomach continues to grow with each passing second and while the concern in him desperately wants her to get to the point he stifles the urge to demand a straight answer and lets her get everything out on her own terms; or as much as his initial inquiry now allows her.

“How long did you think we’d have together Nick? A few years...a few decades...maybe we’d get to grow old together. Maybe you’d break my heart before that. Maybe I’d break yours. I guess we’ll never know now. You see Nick, as much as I want to sit here with you, curl up by the fire and then maybe make love to you as the snow covers the city in white, I can’t. We can’t.”

“Nat...”

Her eyes lock with his before she allows herself a slow exhale.

“I’m so sorry Nick but the news that isn’t news...I wouldn’t make any long plans that include me if I were you.” There’s a bitterness that laces her words and it cuts right through him. Natalie abruptly lets go of his hand and it angers him that his normally straight to the point Natalie is now being less than forthcoming. With a start Nick rises from his seat, fighting his temper, and wanting some answers that aren’t thinly veiled allusions.

“I didn’t know you were seeing a doctor.” He says, trying to find a different approach.

“I didn’t want to worry you if it wasn’t necessary. I was wrong about that.”

“I’m not the enemy, Nat. Don’t fight me.”

She doesn’t look at him.

“So that’s it. You’re just going to accept what you’ve been told at face value?” He says playing along. She’ll tell him. She just needs a little more time.

“Have a drink with me,” she says as she walks to the bookcase near the refrigerator and fishes out two glasses and a bottle of aged single malt scotch. Nick watches her actions with the slightest shred of incredulity. He decides it best to take her up on her offer.

He sits at the kitchen table seconds before she approaches and places the glasses in front of him, pouring them each a drink. Together they sit in impenetrable silence, taking measured gulps from their glasses.

“I’ve done my research,” She begins after a while. “It’s not exactly my field so I made some phone calls, talked to people, read up all the literature. The conclusions are all the same. Dr. Miller wasn’t going to tell me anything I don’t already know and right now I really don’t want to be on the receiving end of a ‘Get your affairs in order’ speech.”

She’s dying. Natalie’s dying. That’s the big secret he’d wanted her to say...to share with him and even now she can’t quite say it. That’s the reason for all her evasiveness.

“I can’t just sit back and watch you wither away,” Nick tells the amber liquid in his glass.

“You were going to have to...before.” Nick raises his eyes to look at her and what he sees disturbs him. The truth in her statement reminds him of the countless times he’d thought about the eventuality of having to leave her if no cure could be found. All it would take is one overly observant person to ask the wrong questions to send him packing before he was ready.

“I know you don’t like it, but this is my decision. I’m not going to waste whatever time I have left chasing long shots.”

Nick looks at her and see steely determination.

“I need you, Nick. I’m going to need your strength...your courage."

“And what if I don’t have any to give,” he mutters stricken.

“I don’t believe that.”

He takes a long gulp of his drink and lets the alcohol burn his throat.

“Do you think this is easy, Nick? I’m terrified. I'm terrified and I’m angry. It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

“So when exactly were you planning on telling me, Nat?" He doesn't like the irritation in his tone but he presses on. She may have held back her fears but he won't do that. Nothing good can come from sanitizing their feelings. "When I get a phone call telling me that you've collapsed in the middle of the work day? Or perhaps when I find you dead in the middle of the living room? Why didn’t you come to me? You should never have had to carry this weight alone. No one should.”

He can’t quite forgive her...yet. It’s crazy. He should be holding her and whispering endearments into her hair, promising to find the best care possible for her but instead he finishes the last of his scotch and shakily reaches for the bottle to pour himself some more.

“Because in the end it’s just going to be me," she tells him sadly. "I need to come to terms with that.”

"So what do we do now? I can't...I won't lose you.”

“Can we sit and watch the snow fall?"

How could he deny her that?

Nick reaches across the table for her hand. He draws it to his lips and kisses it reverently. 

 

 

now

Nick surveys the main room from his spot on the second floor. He always liked the vantage point. The loft had plenty of interesting angles to explore. It was never intended as a living space, but its initial inhospitable air appealed to him. It didn’t remain that way, however. As he integrated back into the mortal world, he allowed his interests to shape the space into something much more intriguing. It became part artist’s studio and part expensive bachelor pad. Later, Natalie and then Schanke’s presence warmed the space into something resembling a home. It was a home he allowed himself to open to others. The people around him made his life in Toronto worth living.

 

then

“There are people here who care about you Nick. Who love and depend on you.”

 

I don’t want to go Nat but I feel like I’ve just been jolted awake from this pleasant dream. Most of the time I’m the one that does the leaving. It’s often painful, but the mortals I leave behind will shortly go back to their everyday lives. I’d forgotten how excruciating it is when I’m the one that’s left. You don’t know this but Janette’s gone too. Vampires move on all the time. There's nothing earth shattering there but everything that’s happened only further reminds me of what I’ve been doing these last few years, forming bonds to people and a life that I might not be able to hang on to any longer. I don’t want to leave Nat but it’s for the best. I don’t want you ripped away from me like that. You deserve better. Schanke, Cohen, all those people—they deserved better too.

 

+

 

“Nick…do you pray?”

Natalie’s question catches him momentarily off guard. 

“No,” he answers simply and hopefully closing the subject.

“Why not?”

He thinks back to the glass of blood he had after his shift ended. The blood he had before Natalie arrived at the loft, looking slightly tired from her day but contemplative.

“Prayer is a conversation with God. I’m not worthy of God’s love, Nat,” He hates saying it aloud. Giving his dark inner thoughts voice puts him in a melancholic mood. “I let the seduction of power, immortality, and carnal pleasures lure me away. I was weak. I’ve been paying for it ever since.”

“You’re saying you’re a sinner.”

Nicks turns to her, feeling both confident and stricken with his answer, “Yes.”

Natalie takes him in with her large, limpid eyes. He wants to be worthy. Why has it been so hard lately to feel worthy?

“It’s a very personal thing, isn’t it...prayer. To ask for forgiveness.”

Nick says nothing. Instead he turns his focus to the space where he houses several of his paintings.

“What’s mortality to you?”

He contemplates briefly the topic of their conversation before he answers her quietly…almost too quietly.

“Life…death…and everything in between.”

“All that is physical. Physical mortality is only half of the solution.”

“I’m not the most religious person in the world, but I do know that religion had a very strong influence on your mortal life. It’s something you’ve carried with you all these years.”

“Your point being?”

“That you’ve neglected your spiritual well being.”

“Are you suggesting I say a few rosaries?” There’s a small amount of mockery in his tone. He’s not proud of it, but the direction of this conversation is making him defensive.

Natalie, to her credit, continues to look upon him thoughtfully.

“Forgiveness. It’s something you’ve never truly allowed yourself.”

“Nick, I've tried to help your body with varying levels of success. You’ve been a willing participant in exploring the boundaries of the scientific method. Perhaps in my complete faith in medical science, I’ve neglected my promise to help you find a cure by discounting other avenues. The mind is incredibly powerful. If you believe that you’re not worthy, then you’re setting yourself up for failure. Before God can forgive you, you have to forgive yourself.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Natalie Lambert?” He asks, partially amused.

“Hmm, I’ve just been doing some thinking. It’s been tough for you these last couple of months. Your support system is usually more diverse, and I see you somewhat unfocused. Like you’re just going through the motions. I’ve been wondering what could be done to redirect your focus.”

“Have you come to any conclusions?”

“I feel like you’re too hard on yourself. More so now than before.” 

Nick lets Natalie’s words settle. Once again, he takes in the loft around him. He has surrounded himself with depictions of the sun.  Abstract suns, bronzed suns, electronic suns—all of them fail to provide the warmth that the real sun would.  The shaft of light that he seeks remains elusive.

“I worry about you, Nick. Maybe I don’t say that enough.” 

“What brought this on? Are you doing okay?” He turns fully to watch her. There are dark smudges underneath her eyes and her clothing is a little rumpled. All that could be attributed to her long shift. Has she been taking care of herself? Is she sleeping properly? Is she eating?

“Oh, nothing really. I was going through the contents of my safe at home. It’s where I keep my notes and observations on you. I spent a good chunk of the weekend revisiting them. It just got me thinking and I thought I'd share with the class.”

She smiles softly at him and lays a warm hand on his arm before she squeezes it affectionately. She turns to leave before Nick stops her.

“Natalie?”

She quirks her head in question.

“I appreciate you,” He tells her honestly. “I haven’t been very good at saying it lately and maybe I have been neglectful of certain things in my life.” 

“It's just food for thought. It’s been one of those nights and my mind turned to you," For a brief instance, she looks almost sheepish. "I’ll see you tomorrow okay.”

“You can count on that.”

Natalie’s heels slowly retreat from the loft and the elevator activates as it lowers down to the ground level. With her departure, Nick is left alone in the quiet and solitude of his home.

 

now and tomorrow

 

In the grand scheme of things he and Natalie had spent precious little time together, but it was also more than he ever thought they would. Little did he know that a split second decision to interfere in a robbery would be his second life defining moment. They met, he snarled at her, and she stood her ground. He prophesied her death at his hands and she offered him help. She had faith in science and he was trying to restore faith in himself.  What was supposed to be a very detached arrangement between a vampire fast approaching the 800th year of his life and a young Toronto coroner working the nightshift on her 28th birthday turned into one of his most stable friendships ever. Out of that friendship grew a love that completely blindsided him. Their memories in this place were both good and bad. His memories were here too but now he needed to let go of this place. The ghosts can have it. There are still things Nick needed to do. He needed to pay Natalie a visit before his flight left, not to mention pick up a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He hated visiting her empty handed, though he knew that she didn’t mind. He also needed to pick up a newspaper. She’ll want to know how the Blue Jays did in their last game. She’ll probably know because it hasn’t been pretty for them lately. There’s a lot to do. Thankfully the cemetery is open early. He should know; he visits once a week.

When Nick’s time comes he’ll be buried next to the woman he loves. She may have gone on ahead without him, but she’ll be there waiting when he gets there. Until then Chicago will be his new home. He’d always liked it there. It was familiar and it wasn’t too far from Toronto, which had been important to him in deciding where to relocate. He didn’t want to be too far from Natalie. She’d liked Chicago too. Wrigley Field shared a lot of pleasant memories and in the end the decision had been easier than he’d anticipated.

With one final look around the loft Nick opened the elevator and let the door close behind him for the last time. He leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes as the car rumbled to life and began to protest its slow descent. “Come on old man,” he heard Natalie’s voice tease. “Old man?” responded his own disembodied voice. “I’ll show you ‘old man.’” Natalie’s voice erupted into a series of playful shrieks and giggles. “Nick no...Nick please...Ni--” Her voice is interrupted by the tell-tale sounds of two people sharing a passionate kiss. A content moan escaped Natalie’s lips followed by the sound of a hand hitting against a leather jacket. Nick smiled and chuckled softly at the memory of Natalie’s disapproving display of him manhandling her. “You should be grateful I still love you after a stunt like that. And I do, still love you.” “I love you too, Nat.” His voice had responded right before the elevator car finally arrived at its destination, causing Nick to open his eyes.

“Very much,” he whispered to the empty car, and Nick stepped out into the sun filled garage.

 

-30-

A/N: How did Nick become mortal? I haven't a *klew*.