"Are you alright?" Michael asked, his words cutting into the companionable silence that filled my apartment. It was the first words either of us had spoken beyond "where are the bandages," and "hold still," and "ow," and other things you say when you're patching each other up after clearing out a nest of cat-demons. But when we'd finished, I'd wordlessly offered him a beer- one of Mac's brew- and he'd stayed. I was glad. Sometimes a guy just doesn't want to be alone.
"It's a pretty shallow cut," I said, looking at the bandages on my left leg. "I'll heal. Pain's not too bad." Which was true, in a relative sort of way. I'd been hurt much worse before. It would have been much worse this time, too, if Michael hadn't been there to watch my back. I usually say that I work better alone, but teaming up with a Knight of the Cross was growing on me.
I'd met Michael Carpenter a couple years back. A little girl had been kidnapped by Fetches, and I nearly got killed trying to get her back. I would have gotten myself killed if Michael hadn't just happened to be walking by the abandoned warehouse where they'd holed up a few minutes after I ran in. And just happened to have his sword with him at the time.
That sort of thing happens to him a lot.
There aren't a lot of us in the know when it comes to things supernatural, and it's always good to have an ally when you're facing down the things that go bump in the night, so we quickly developed a working relationship that had by now drifted into the general area of friendship. I called him when I think I might need some backup, and he called me when he needed a wizard's perspective on something. Or a wizard's firepower. And then, generally speaking, afterwards we would drink beer and not talk much.
"That's not what I meant," Michael said. "You're upset about something."
"Yeah," I said, "Monsters snacking on innocent people. It's upsetting."
Michael just looked at me in that irritatingly serene way of his.
I gave in. He wasn't going to drop it. It was either spill, or kick him out, and I really didn't want to be alone. "Susan dumped me," I admitted. "Last night."
Michael nodded, not looking surprised in the least. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know you care a great deal for her."
"Yeah," I said bitterly, "well, she didn't really get that memo."
"What..." Michael said, then started over. "May I ask what happened?"
I shrugged. "What's there to tell? I screwed up one time too many." I wasn't quite sure exactly what I had done, exactly what had pushed Susan over the line- but that was part of the problem. I wasn't good at relationships. She'd been patient with me, but there's a limit to how much patience you can reasonably expect of a person.
He didn't say anything to that, and didn't seem to expect me to continue. I guess he can take a hint. We drank more beer. Or at least I did.
"You know," I said after awhile, surprising myself, "I've never been dumped before. It's an exciting new experience."
"Ah?" Michael prompted.
"Yeah," I said. "It sucks." Less than other ways to lose someone, said a treacherous voice in my head.
He chuckled a little at that. "So I've heard."
"No firsthand experience either, huh?" Given that I'd never heard Michael mention any relationships, ever, that didn't surprise me. "That celibacy thing you've got going?"
It was a few moments before Michael responded. "Not... exactly," he said hesitantly. "I was in love once. And loved in return." There was a familiar sort of pain in his eyes, that reminded me of...
"What happened to her?" I asked, though I could guess in rough terms already.
"He died in battle."
Which completely confirmed what I had suspected while simultaneously throwing me the mother of all curveballs. "Oh," I said articulately.
"David was another Knight of the Cross," Michael said. "He wielded the sword Esperachius. We fought together against- would it be too melodramatic to say the forces of evil?"
"Seems like a pretty accurate catch-all term to me," I said, mind still reeling a little from Michael? With a guy? What?.
Michael smiled slightly. "Well, then. We fought against the forces of evil, side by side. And then he died. Killed by... our enemies." He took a long breath, shaky and shallow. "I couldn't save him."
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
Michael shook his head. "It was years ago. I've made my peace with it."
"Which is why you haven't gotten involved with anyone since," I said, then winced. "Wait, no, I'm sorry, that was out of line."
"Yes, it was," Michael said mildly.
"I just," I hurried on, "Look, man, I..." My eyes, treacherously, were starting to water, and there was a knot in my throat. "Did I ever tell you anything about Elaine?"
I told him. I told him about Elaine, how she and I had fallen in love, our struggle living under Justin DuMorne. Her betrayal. I don't think I'd ever actually talked about her to anyone, before, and I found myself wondering why I was talking about her now, when by all rights I should be talking about Susan.
I guess my subconscious is just smarter than me about these things, though, because I eventually found myself saying, "It's probably better that Susan dumped me. It means she can't... it means I can't lose her some other way. Some worse way."
"Like you lost Elaine," Michael said.
"Yeah," I said, and wow did that sound obvious once I'd said it. "Okay, that's enough introspection for me." If I kept on this track I might figure out that I'd been sabotaging my relationship with Susan on purpose or something. Which I hadn't been. At least, I was pretty sure I hadn't been. I opened another bottle of beer- was it my third? Fourth? Fifth, even? "And now's when you tell me that I have to get over it, move on, learn to love again, all that bullshit, right?"
Michael shook his head and smiled sadly. "I'm not that much of a hypocrite, Harry."
Oh. Right. Speaking of... "So, um, you and David," I said. "You... you were together together, right? Because I'm not taking relationship advice from you if it was some sort of brotherly love thing and you're actually a forty year old virgin."
He laughed, rich and pleasant, though still tinged with sadness. "Yes, he and I were lovers. And I didn't think I was offering any relationship advice."
"Thought your church didn't approve of that sort of thing."
Michael shook his head. "I don't confuse church teachings with the will of God."
"And a good thing for me," I grinned, "Otherwise you might not be suffering a witch to live."
"Harry, I've told you before, that translation..." Michael started, but I waved him down.
"I know," I said. "You've told me before. I just mean... thanks. For, you know. Not getting on my case about the God thing."
The rest of the evening went quickly, talking of this and that but mostly not talking at all, just sitting. It was nice. Restful.
It felt really lonely when he left and I went off to bed alone, but I chalked that up to the beer.
Glad you like so far! There will be more when, um, I finish re-reading (well, skimming) Grave Peril and taking notes, because that's coming up soon in their future, and, um, well, that's going to happen a bit differently in this AU, isn't it.
It was a pretty nice holding cell, all things considered. They must have splurged when they renovated after the loup-garoup demolished the place the previous year.
"How long will we be in here, you you think?" Michael asked me.
I shrugged. "Murphy will probably show up in the early morning and sort things out, unless Father Forthill gets your message and bails us out first. Longer to get the Beetle out of impound."
"You would be the expert," Michael said, with a gentle humor.
"You bet I am. Last month, helping the cops take down a demon-summoning ritual killer. This month, getting arrested for disturbing the peace." I looked solemnly at him. "I'm giving you the full police tour, Michael. You're a lucky man."
He laughed. "Thank you, Harry. You sure know how to show a guy a good time."
"Hel- uh, heck yeah," I said. "You really never been arrested before? Running around with a big-ass sword, slaying evil things most of the cops don't believe exist? Is this one of those God perks or something?"
Michael shrugged. "Perhaps."
Michael and I had been working a lot together, lately. Taking down Kravos and his pet demon had been a pretty major production, of course, but in the weeks since, there had been an unprecedented amount of ghostly activity in and around Chicago. It started with small hauntings I could handle myself- could probably handle them blindfolded and handcuffed- but they'd been getting nastier and nastier. Tonight's spook, one Agatha Hagglethorn, had been a handful, and it was a damn good thing I had Michael as backup, even before my fairy godmother showed up.
What a night.
"It just bothers me," I said. "I mean, we bust our saving people from things they don't even acknowledge exist, and what thanks to we get? A night in the lockup. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."
"Because it's the right thing to do," Michael said. "You're a good man, Harry. You saved a dozen innocent lives this evening. Isn't that enough?"
I deflated a bit. That's one of the things I was coming to really appreciate about Michael. I could never stay angry around him long. "Yeah," I said. "I guess that's enough."
Michael and I took turns dozing for the next few hours. It was maybe a couple hours before dawn when an officer let us out of the cell, telling us we'd made bail.
"Thank God," Father Forthill said when we walked out. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and his sunken eyes were filled with fear. "Harry. Did you send a young lady to me last night?"
I'd nearly forgotten about her- Lydia, was it? She'd shown up at my office the previous afternoon, convinced a ghost was after her and that she was in danger. I'd given her a talisman and sent her off to weather the night at St. Mary of the Angels. "Yeah," I said. "Did she make it?"
Father Forthill looked around the waiting room, at the cops and other bystanders. "Maybe I'd better tell you in the car. I understand yours is impounded?"
My muscles ached, I had a splitting headache, and I wanted nothing more than to just fall into my own bed and sleep properly for a few hours, but instead I got into Forthill's car with Michael and got a whole heap of new problems on my plate. The girl, the priest explained, had made it safely to the church just before sundown. And just after sundown, something had tried to get in. Something malevolent, and powerful. He described how they'd heard it destroying things outside, calling her name, rattling the windows.
"It stopped after a few hours," Forthill said as we pulled into the parking lot behind the church. "I left her alone while I checked the doors and windows, and when I returned, she was gone."
"Gone?" I asked. "Left, or just gone?"
"I found one of the doors unlocked. I assume she left, Lord knows why. It was only then that I got your phone message- I'm sorry you had to wait so long at the police station."
"Sounds like it wouldn't have been safe to leave until then anyway," I said as I got out of the car. "Uh, thanks for bailing us out, by the way." Of course he would have bailed out Michael, but I was a little worried about whether he'd help me, as well. Michael was a believer, a church-goer, and Forthill's friend. I was just the weirdo wizard who dropped by begging for holy water.
It wasn't quite dawn yet, and though the sky was beginning to turn from black to purple, most of what light there was came from the streetlights. The spirit, or whatever it was, had done a number on the floodlights that usually lit the parking lot. And the rose bushes outside the church. And the cars. I shivered, and not just because of the chill air.
"Perhaps we should get indoors," Michael said quietly.
"Good thinking," I said. "That thing might come back. I'll check out the damage out here once the sun is up."
Being inside a church like St. Mary's is a little weird for me. I've never been quite comfortable around churches. I might joke with Michael about it, but there's a very real history of people like me being killed by the faithful. Not so much in recent years, but that's mostly because most churchgoers don't believe in magic anymore, not because they've softened their stance. Even now, some of the apprentices of White Council wizards were lucky to get out of their backwater towns or villages alive once they started manifesting their abilities and the local religious authorities (of whatever stripe) noticed. You can't get away with public witchburnings anymore, but that doesn't stop quiet vigilante disappearances.
On the other hand, there's a very real power in faith. It's why places like St. Mary's are safe havens from some of the nastier supernatural creatures out there. Magic is the stuff of life, and if you get enough people together with shared intentions, that can create some very real magical effects even if none of them are practitioners. The effect is particularly powerful in Catholic churches, which baffled me until the first time Michael dragged me to Mass with him. I'm not saying I believe anything about wine turning into Jesus's blood or anything, but it turns out that whatever else it does, transubstantiation raises a hell of a lot of magical energy, energy which then just sits there, supercharging the prayers and faith of the congregation.
The energy itself doesn't bother me- it's actually pretty pleasant, and like most background energy, easy to tune out, like white noise. Still, it feels a little weird to just stroll in. It may feel benevolent, but it's a powerful force that I don't quite understand, and that makes me nervous.
Father Forthill filled in a few more details of the previous night while feeding us coffee and toast. Once the sun was up Michael and I gave a more thorough inspection to the outside of the church- no blood or other signs of some human or animal, even a supernaturally powered one. We were dealing with a spook of some sort, alright.
Michael and I agreed to split up, him to search for Lydia, and me to go consult an expert on ghosts, specters, and other things dead. I did manage to catch Mortimer before he skipped town, and he confirmed what I already knew and a lot more besides. Something was stirring up the ghosts alright, and causing turbulence in the barrier between our world and the Nevernever. I headed home to consult Bob, and was instead whisked off to the house of Micky Malone. After destroying the truly nasty piece of spellwork someone had thrown off of him, I returned home, exhausted, no closer to finding Lydia, and with a whole lot to figure out.
At least I had my car back.
With his usual freaky timing Michael called a few minutes after I stepped through the door. He hadn't had any luck on the Lydia front either.
"I need to ask Bob a few things," I said.
Michael made an annoyed sound, the sort that meant he had just suppressed a remark about how I shouldn't be consorting with spirits and by the way would I like to come to Mass next Sunday.
In return, I sighed in the way that I used as shorthand for "Shut up, Michael, and stop trying to convert me." Weeks of nearly daily association made that sort of efficient communication both possible and essential. "I'll try a tracking spell on Lydia afterwards," I added.
"Do you need me to pick you up?" he asked. He'd seen my tracking spells in action.
"Nah," I said, "Murphy got the Beetle out of impound for me."
His disapproving grunt translated roughly as "I hope you didn't ask that nice policewoman to break the law for you." I ignored it.
"Oh," I said. "Michael. I think... look, whatever is out there, it's nasty, and by looking into it we're probably attracting it's attention. You should probably sleep behind wards tonight." Actually, St. Mary's would probably be even safer, but whatever had gotten Malone had gotten past his threshold. If it could do that, I had no guarantee my wards would protect me. I'd be a lot more comfortable with Michael to watch my back.
Yeah, selfish. So sue me.
"Alright," he said. "I'll head to your place before dark."
"Good," I said, making a mental note to be sure to be back myself to let him in.
"I should go. I still have a few leads myself," he said. "God go with you, Harry."
"You too," I said, and hung up.
Time to talk to Bob and figuring out what the hell I was getting myself into.
I'm not quite sure what you're counting as obvious reasons and what you aren't. But yes, turning a family man into a bachelor who doesn't want to get close to people because they'll DIE omg is having, er, interesting effects on his character. Not to mention throwing a wrench in the gears of Grave Peril starting quite soon, necessitating a Rather Different Series of Events. Though yes, I intend to paralel the rest of Grave Peril, have a bunch of stuff happen in the months following (including Charity showing up!), and then cover Summer Knight, because ZOMG Elaine. Not sure how far I'll continue paralling the books :)
OP here, filled with glee! And of course what's the one thing Harry and Charity have in common (other than magic and trust-issues and mutual liking with Michael)?
By the time I realized it was a dream- that I'd done this before, that this wasn't how it had gone- it was too late. The spell I'd used to bind Kravos's magic had rebounded back onto me. I frantically grasped at the substance of the dream, willing it to change- but it slipped past my control, twisting into out of my grasp as I watched the demon kill my friends and allies, one by one. The demon stalked towards me, huge and menacing. It grabbed me, lifted me into the air, as I struggled to impose my will on this false yet terrifyingly vivid reality.
The demon sank it's teeth into my belly, and I screamed. It wasn't the pain of flesh tearing, of my guts being torn out. It was a deeper, worse pain, leaving me feeling strangely hollow, like he was eating my very essence.
"This isn't real," I said. "This is just a dream."
"Little wizard, whoever told you that dreams aren't real?" The demon licked my blood off it's grotesque lips and bent it's head towards me again.
"Harry!" a voice- a familiar voice- said. I frowned. Michael- I had seen the demon kill him. I looked- yes, his body still lay limp, on the ground.
The demon had heard him too. He snarled, and dropped me from his grasp. I fell.
And I found myself on the floor of my bedroom. A terrible wrongness flickered over my skin in horrible cold waves. I shuddered in pain and terror as the thing tore away from me. All my instincts told me to run, but when I tried to stand the floor lurched under my feet, and I fell to me hands and knees again.
There was a horrible shrieking noise, and a yell- Michael? And then there was someone there with me- arms around me, safe, comforting. "Michael," I croaked. My head ached, and my throat burned. The gentle pleasure of the vampire venom was gone, but the fuzzyness remained and every sense, every touch and smell and sound, was magnified. The jumble was overwhelming.
"Harry," he said. "Thank the Lord. Are you alright?" His voice seemed to come from miles away and inside my ear, painful and reassuring. I placed one of the smells- vomit, which seemed to be related in some way to the burning in my throat. There was a roiling sickness in my stomach, and a hollow ache below that, where the demon had torn at me. I looked down at my soiled but intact shirt.
"Harry," Michael said again, and the reassuring bulk at my back went away. I gave an undignified whimper in protest, and then Michael's face came into view in front of me. He peered at me, looking concerned. I wondered, absently, why I'd never noticed the thin ring of blue around the edges of his deep brown eyes.
Right. He'd asked me a question. I blinked blearily at him, trying to clear the fog from my head. "I don't..." There was something, something important I had to tell him. I couldn't remember what it was. Something had happened. I needed to do something about it.
"Lab," I said. "I need..." Bob. I needed Bob. Bob could tell me what to do.
My head spun when he helped me to my feet, and my vision started going black around the edges. The world twisted and shifted horribly, and I clung to him like an anchor. I think I was sick again, at some point. Somehow, he maneuvered the two of us down the stepladder into the lab. It was dark, the only light coming from the lamps upstairs. He managed to steer me into the barely-visible circle built into the floor, and I reached out with my will to close it. It was an exhausting effort, like lifting a hundred-pound box after running a marathon, but the circle closed with a satisfying snap, and I relaxed into Michael's arms. Then I relaxed even further, all the way down to the floor. I leaned appreciatively against Michael's leg.
"Boss?" I heard Bob say.
Michael jerked a moment in surprise- he hadn't ever actually seen me talk to Bob before. "Harry?" he said quietly. "Is that..."
"Hey, Bob," I said wearily. "This is Michael. Michael, Bob."
"Charmed," Bob said absently. "You look awful, Harry. What happened?"
"Vampires," I said. I closed my eyes, fighting the venom hangover. "Drooled on me. Right in my mouth."
"Eeeeuuugh," Bob said.
"Did they bite you?" Michael asked quietly, kneeling down to support my precarious sitting position.
I considered. It was difficult to think, but I dredged up the memories of the fight. Struggling. One of them held me down, spat on my face, and then... I remembered the vampire's screams as a wall crumbled away and let the sunlight in. That's when I'd gotten away. "No," I said finally. "I don't think so."
"Even if they had," Bob said, "that wouldn't be enough to turn him. Believe me, if he was infected, we'd know it. But just vampires- Harry, your aura's showing all sorts of nasty damage. Vampires shouldn't have done that- not Red Court vampires, anyway. They were Red Court? The ones that drooled on you?"
I frowned. "Bianca's. Met 'em a few days ago. So yes."
"The ones that delivered that invitation?" Michael asked.
"Yeah," I said. Kyle and Kelly, their names were. They'd shown up on my doorstep a few days prior, delivering an invitation to attend a party celebrating the elevation of Bianca, the local vampire madam, to some sort of vampire aristocracy. I had, of course, refused. "They have Lydia," I added, since she had in fact been how I'd gotten into the whole mess. She'd been a prisoner, drugged and bound in the back of a windowless van. And I'd been an idiot and gotten myself ambushed before I could save her.
"Lord protect her," Michael said.
"I was thinking we could protect her," I said. "I mean, once I can stand up without falling over again."
"Speaking of," Bob said, "I heard you screaming an awful racket just now. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you."
I shook my head, once, which caused a herd of elephants to tromp through my head. It wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't been on fire. "Just a nightmare," I said. "Nasty one, too. Side effect of vamp spit?" I leaned my head back against Michael's chest, which seemed to help a bit with the flaming elephant problem.
"I don't think it was just a nightmare, Harry," Michael said. "I saw something, when you woke up. I think it tried to attack me, but left when I went for Amorrachius."
"By something, you mean..." Bob prompted.
"A ghost, perhaps? No solid form. It seemed to leave Harry's body as he woke."
A cold feeling came over me. "That... that shouldn't... How did it get past my wards?" I blinked. "Wait, Michael, how did you get past my wards? Not that I'm not grateful..."
"You left your door unlocked," Michael said. "I don't know about your wards. I didn't notice anything."
I winced. I barely remembered coming in, but it was completely plausible I hadn't had the spare thought to lock up behind me. Stars, what if it hadn't been Michael who came to the door?
"Harry's wards are rather lacking when it comes to keeping humans out," Bob said. "And since you're here on his invitation, the threshold wouldn't be backing them up. Though- when did you come in? Before or after whatever attacked Harry came in?"
"Just a few minutes ago," Michael said. "He was already screaming when I got in."
"So, whether you accidentally broke the wards or not- Harry, you should check on that once you're recovered a bit- that means that this thing, this Nightmare, got in while they were intact. Just like it got over Malone's threshold." Bob and I had discussed this earlier, I remembered- though he sounded less, well, terrified of the prospect now. Now he sounded almost excited, like he had solved some puzzle.
"You've got a theory?" I asked.
"Yes," Bob said, sounding very satisfied, "as a matter of fact, I do."
It was, as it turned out, a good theory. It explained a lot of things. He thought that the Nightmare, whatever it was, was attacking people in their dreams. Sufficient intense dreams apparently poke out as little bubbles into the Nevernever, giving this monster it's way in without even encountering a threshold. We discussed the possibilities a bit, as my brain began to untangle itself from the mess it was in. This was an unpleasant and difficult process, and it made rational thought somewhat slow and sloppy, but I managed eventually. I told them about the dream, about how it had deviated from the real fight with Kravos and his pet demon.
And then it hit me. "Stars and stones," I said. "Malone was at the fight against Kravos. This thing attacked him, and then me. What if it wasn't just taking an advantage of a nightmare I was already having? What if this Nightmare, this ghost, is the ghost of that demon we took down?"
Michael got it. "Going after the people responsible for it's death. Which means..."
I gulped. "Which means, we've got to warn Murphy."
********* (Authornon here... sorry I took so freaking long to write this part! I am still not quite happy with it, but it will do, I guess. I expect the next couple parts to take awhile as well, after that it should go more smoothly? I hope? Especially since every time I got stuck on this part I skipped ahead and wrote later bits?)
Michael drove. I curled up on on the passenger's seat of his truck, and tried, desperately, to center myself, to escape the mindless terror I kept falling into, to find some shred of power I had left. Turns out that when that dream-demon took a bite out of me, it did some very real damage. And now I was practically helpless. I could barely light a candle, let alone channel the forces of nature into great and powerful weapons.
Michael had called Murph. Funny thing, she'd just gotten off the phone with me. Or rather, with someone pretending to be me, and pretty damn well if Murphy was fooled. Bob said that since the Nightmare manifested as a representation of what it was made of, and it had taken a big bite out of me, it would probably be able to take my form. Wasn't that a pleasant thought. Oh, and those powers I was missing? Yeah, guess where they'd gone.
When we got to the station, Michael slung the big sports bag he carried Amorachius in his shoulder as we got out of his truck. I grabbed my staff, as much to lean on as for it's use as a weapon, and a lunch box packed with a few magical basics, and followed him as quickly as I could into the station.
"Did I come this way?" I asked the greying old sergeant at the desk.
He blinked at me. "What?"
Michael put out a hand to steady me. "Did he come in just a few minutes ago?"
"Yeah," the sergeant said, peering at his clipboard. "Went up to see Lieutenant Murphy."
"Damn," I said. "Okay, I need to see her again. Could you buzz us through?"
He did. "What's going on here, Mr. Dresden?"
"Tell you when I figure it out," I said.
We hurried up the stairs to the S.I. office, on the fourth floor. It winded me more than it should have, but I pushed aside the pain in my lungs and nearly sprinted through the doors and into the big room where most of the officers of SI had their desks.
Murphy and Stallings stood in one corner of the room, in the middle of a crude circle of salt- I could see the reddish brown spot where one of them had closed it with their blood. Murphy had a hand on her gun, and a determined look on her face. In the other corner was Rudolph, being held in a chokehold by-
Myself.
I took a moment to stare at my double. He was dressed like I had been the night we took down Kravos. He had my face. He had used my face, my likeness, to get in here and threaten people. If Michael hadn't warned Murphy...
With a growl of rage I ran towards the thing wearing my body.
I heard Michael telling Murphy to stay where she was, heard his steps following mine, but all my effort was concentrated on taking down my double. I got my staff ready to wield as a simple blunt weapon, not stopping to futility try any magic.
The Nightmare dropped Rudolph and stepped towards me. "Ventas Servitas," he whispered, and I found myself knocked of my feet, pulled towards him. My vision started to go black around the edges, and when I got my bearings again, I was trapped, held in the same way Rudolph had been. Murphy, still in the circle, had gone pale. Michael stood a few yards away, Amorachius drawn and gleaming bright.
"Let him go," he said.
I felt the thin edge of a blade against my throat.
"Drop the sword, Knight," my double said. "Else I will slay him before you take another step."
"Michael, don't," I protested. "Don't trust him, he's-"
Michael, with a haunted look in his eyes, laid Ammorachius on the floor and stepped away from it. "Let him go," he said again.
To my surprise, my double did let me go, and I crumpled to the ground in a disoriented heap. I stared at the floor in confusion, and then looked up at the heavy thump and crash which I realized, after a moment, was the sound of Michael's entire body colliding with a set of metal shelves, followed by the shelves tipping over on top of him, along with the heavy binders they held. I could see him, still conscious but obviously struggling and in pain, trapped beneath the heavy shelves and their contents. The Nightmare stalked towards him.
And was waylaid by Murphy hitting him over the head with an iron crowbar.
He snarled and turned towards her, and I realized with a sick feeling to my stomach that she had broken the circle that had been keeping her and Stallings safe. "Forzare," he growled as he gestured at Stallings, and the officer was also knocked back against a wall. And then he grabbed at Murphy.
She put up a damn good fight. Despite the fact that, having taken my form, the thing had nearly two feet of height advantage on her and more strength, she had the skill to wield his own strength against him. Murphy could take me down easily. But that thing wasn't me. He had an endurance far more than a human would have, or he'd have gone down when she'd struck him with the crowbar. I wondered why he wasn't using magic. Was he tapped out?
And then he grappled her to the floor, pinning her down, and moved his hand into her head.
She screamed, not in pain, but in terror. I tried to summon any strength at all in me, magic or the simple physical ability to stand, but my muscles and mind both seemed entirely drained. My double looked almost blissful, completely absorbed in his task.
"Oh, Godson," a voice murmured into my ear, "what have you done to yourself?"
"Lea," I whispered in horror. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Why," she said with an almost musical laugh, "I've come to help you."
"Help me? You've got to be kidding."
"No, godson. I cannot face this creature for you, but I can give you some of your strength back. I can give you what you need to save these people. And all I ask, is that when you have, you fulfill the bargain you have already made, and come with me."
"You don't want me like this," I said. "Weak, and torn up. Wounded. Don't tell me you can just fix that."
"Oh, you will heal of those wounds in time," Lea said "And while you heal, such care I will take of you, such a pleasant passing of time."
Murphy kept screaming, but each time it was quieter, more muffled.
"Do you accept my bargain?" Lea asked. "You must act quickly, while the lady has mind left to save."
I stared at Murphy's wide eyes, feeling sick. "Yes," I said.
I felt Lea's lips brushing my forehead. "Then go, Godson."
And suddenly, the pain was gone, pain I hadn't even registered until I noticed it's absence. The sluggishness the vampire venom had left in it's wake was gone. I stood, with no weakness, no struggle, and simply having my normal physical strength back made me feel kind of like Superman.
But when I tried to gather my Will, it was as elusive as before. Lea hadn't restored my magical ability. Possibly hadn't been able to.
My eyes fell on Amorachius. I ran to where it lay abandoned on the ground. It thrummed with power in my hands as I advanced on my double.
He looked up just in time to throw an arm in the way as I swung towards him. The glancing blow hit with a flash of brilliant light, and he recoiled with a shrill scream. I readied for another swing as he scrambled away.
And then a cold, awful feeling came over the room, strangely familiar. It felt wrong and twisted, in just the way the barbed wire spell that had tormented Malone felt wrong and twisted. And then, the Nightmare smiled, and melted away into a sickly black fog.
The cold feeling passed. I heard Michael groan, and turned around to see him slowly crawling out from under the falled bookcase. "I'm okay," he said, wincing.
"Good," I said weakly, and turned towards Murphy. She stared up, unblinking, unmoving, lips still parted in a silent scream.
Lea stood next to her, flanked by two of her hounds. "And now, godson, it is time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain."
"Murphy's not safe yet," I protested. "I can't- I have to fix what that thing did to her. And kill it for good, before it comes back."
"You will come with me now," Lea said. "This instant." One of the hounds advanced towards me.
"No," I said, raising the sword again.
"Harry!" Michael yelled. "The sword can't be used-"
The hound leapt at me. I swung the sword wildly, and then-
I felt a jolt of pain and the sword flashed again. My hands went numb, and Amorachius fell from my grasp.
Lea grinned in triumph, but she reached not for me, but for the sword. "You are such a sweet boy," she said. "I must thank you for this, Harry. I could never have touched the sword if you had not betrayed it's purpose."
With that, she opened the barest glimmer of a doorway to the Nevernever and stepped through with her hounds, reality re-forming with barely a ripple behind her.
I stared at the spot she had been standing, unblinking.
"Harry," Michael said solemnly. His hand dropped on my shoulder.
"Oh god, Michael," I said, starting to shake. "What have I done? Michael, I-" I started to say, "I'm sorry," but that didn't even begin to cover it. How could I have been so- so stupid, so-
"Harry," Michael said. "There are people hurt."
Right. I made a quick survey. Stallings was winded and dazed, bruised but otherwise unharmed. Rudolph hadn't fared so well. He gibbered and babbled in terror, and I wondered if the Nightmare had done something to him, but he at least seemed aware of his surroundings. That just left Murphy.
She lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, unresponsive. I braced myself, looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of awareness. No soulgaze started. No response in her face. I felt for any spell like had been on Malone. Nothing. There was that, at least. I didn't think I could pull one of those out of anyone at the moment.
After a few moment's thought, I had Michael help me carry her back into the salt circle. I fixed where it had been scuffed out, and closed it with a tiny trickle of Will. I didn't know how to fix her, but at least I could keep her from suffering while I figured that out. It took several minutes for me to gather up the strength I needed, but I managed it. Murphy fell into a dreamless sleep, and I collapsed in exhaustion.
After some argument, Stallings called for help, with the story that Murphy had had some sort of seizure or fit, and then fallen unconscious. Michael's injuries and the fallen shelves were explained by him trying to restrain her, keep her from hurting herself. I'd rather have taken her somewhere with a good threshold, or to St. Mary's. There was nothing a hospital could do. But Stallings, being more experienced in reconciling the world of the supernatural to the world of bureaucracy, won out in the end.
This is great work: I love how strong your characterizations are. Sorry to see a story this enjoyable so long without an update, especially in such an under-trodden corner of the fandom, but life happens I suppose. But I really enjoyed reading what you have so far!!
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AU Harry/Michael, 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 10:56 pm (UTC)(link)"It's a pretty shallow cut," I said, looking at the bandages on my left leg. "I'll heal. Pain's not too bad." Which was true, in a relative sort of way. I'd been hurt much worse before. It would have been much worse this time, too, if Michael hadn't been there to watch my back. I usually say that I work better alone, but teaming up with a Knight of the Cross was growing on me.
I'd met Michael Carpenter a couple years back. A little girl had been kidnapped by Fetches, and I nearly got killed trying to get her back. I would have gotten myself killed if Michael hadn't just happened to be walking by the abandoned warehouse where they'd holed up a few minutes after I ran in. And just happened to have his sword with him at the time.
That sort of thing happens to him a lot.
There aren't a lot of us in the know when it comes to things supernatural, and it's always good to have an ally when you're facing down the things that go bump in the night, so we quickly developed a working relationship that had by now drifted into the general area of friendship. I called him when I think I might need some backup, and he called me when he needed a wizard's perspective on something. Or a wizard's firepower. And then, generally speaking, afterwards we would drink beer and not talk much.
"That's not what I meant," Michael said. "You're upset about something."
"Yeah," I said, "Monsters snacking on innocent people. It's upsetting."
Michael just looked at me in that irritatingly serene way of his.
I gave in. He wasn't going to drop it. It was either spill, or kick him out, and I really didn't want to be alone. "Susan dumped me," I admitted. "Last night."
Michael nodded, not looking surprised in the least. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know you care a great deal for her."
"Yeah," I said bitterly, "well, she didn't really get that memo."
"What..." Michael said, then started over. "May I ask what happened?"
I shrugged. "What's there to tell? I screwed up one time too many." I wasn't quite sure exactly what I had done, exactly what had pushed Susan over the line- but that was part of the problem. I wasn't good at relationships. She'd been patient with me, but there's a limit to how much patience you can reasonably expect of a person.
He didn't say anything to that, and didn't seem to expect me to continue. I guess he can take a hint. We drank more beer. Or at least I did.
"You know," I said after awhile, surprising myself, "I've never been dumped before. It's an exciting new experience."
"Ah?" Michael prompted.
"Yeah," I said. "It sucks." Less than other ways to lose someone, said a treacherous voice in my head.
He chuckled a little at that. "So I've heard."
"No firsthand experience either, huh?" Given that I'd never heard Michael mention any relationships, ever, that didn't surprise me. "That celibacy thing you've got going?"
It was a few moments before Michael responded. "Not... exactly," he said hesitantly. "I was in love once. And loved in return." There was a familiar sort of pain in his eyes, that reminded me of...
"What happened to her?" I asked, though I could guess in rough terms already.
"He died in battle."
Which completely confirmed what I had suspected while simultaneously throwing me the mother of all curveballs. "Oh," I said articulately.
"David was another Knight of the Cross," Michael said. "He wielded the sword Esperachius. We fought together against- would it be too melodramatic to say the forces of evil?"
"Seems like a pretty accurate catch-all term to me," I said, mind still reeling a little from Michael? With a guy? What?.
Michael smiled slightly. "Well, then. We fought against the forces of evil, side by side. And then he died. Killed by... our enemies." He took a long breath, shaky and shallow. "I couldn't save him."
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
Michael shook his head. "It was years ago. I've made my peace with it."
"Which is why you haven't gotten involved with anyone since," I said, then winced. "Wait, no, I'm sorry, that was out of line."
"Yes, it was," Michael said mildly.
"I just," I hurried on, "Look, man, I..." My eyes, treacherously, were starting to water, and there was a knot in my throat. "Did I ever tell you anything about Elaine?"
I told him. I told him about Elaine, how she and I had fallen in love, our struggle living under Justin DuMorne. Her betrayal. I don't think I'd ever actually talked about her to anyone, before, and I found myself wondering why I was talking about her now, when by all rights I should be talking about Susan.
I guess my subconscious is just smarter than me about these things, though, because I eventually found myself saying, "It's probably better that Susan dumped me. It means she can't... it means I can't lose her some other way. Some worse way."
"Like you lost Elaine," Michael said.
"Yeah," I said, and wow did that sound obvious once I'd said it. "Okay, that's enough introspection for me." If I kept on this track I might figure out that I'd been sabotaging my relationship with Susan on purpose or something. Which I hadn't been. At least, I was pretty sure I hadn't been. I opened another bottle of beer- was it my third? Fourth? Fifth, even? "And now's when you tell me that I have to get over it, move on, learn to love again, all that bullshit, right?"
Michael shook his head and smiled sadly. "I'm not that much of a hypocrite, Harry."
Oh. Right. Speaking of... "So, um, you and David," I said. "You... you were together together, right? Because I'm not taking relationship advice from you if it was some sort of brotherly love thing and you're actually a forty year old virgin."
He laughed, rich and pleasant, though still tinged with sadness. "Yes, he and I were lovers. And I didn't think I was offering any relationship advice."
"Thought your church didn't approve of that sort of thing."
Michael shook his head. "I don't confuse church teachings with the will of God."
"And a good thing for me," I grinned, "Otherwise you might not be suffering a witch to live."
"Harry, I've told you before, that translation..." Michael started, but I waved him down.
"I know," I said. "You've told me before. I just mean... thanks. For, you know. Not getting on my case about the God thing."
The rest of the evening went quickly, talking of this and that but mostly not talking at all, just sitting. It was nice. Restful.
It felt really lonely when he left and I went off to bed alone, but I chalked that up to the beer.
Re: AU Harry/Michael, 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-02 01:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: AU Harry/Michael, 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-02 05:32 am (UTC)(link)Authronon
(Anonymous) 2011-03-02 01:19 pm (UTC)(link)Re: AU Harry/Michael, 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-02 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)AU Harry/Michael, 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-03 06:37 pm (UTC)(link)"How long will we be in here, you you think?" Michael asked me.
I shrugged. "Murphy will probably show up in the early morning and sort things out, unless Father Forthill gets your message and bails us out first. Longer to get the Beetle out of impound."
"You would be the expert," Michael said, with a gentle humor.
"You bet I am. Last month, helping the cops take down a demon-summoning ritual killer. This month, getting arrested for disturbing the peace." I looked solemnly at him. "I'm giving you the full police tour, Michael. You're a lucky man."
He laughed. "Thank you, Harry. You sure know how to show a guy a good time."
"Hel- uh, heck yeah," I said. "You really never been arrested before? Running around with a big-ass sword, slaying evil things most of the cops don't believe exist? Is this one of those God perks or something?"
Michael shrugged. "Perhaps."
Michael and I had been working a lot together, lately. Taking down Kravos and his pet demon had been a pretty major production, of course, but in the weeks since, there had been an unprecedented amount of ghostly activity in and around Chicago. It started with small hauntings I could handle myself- could probably handle them blindfolded and handcuffed- but they'd been getting nastier and nastier. Tonight's spook, one Agatha Hagglethorn, had been a handful, and it was a damn good thing I had Michael as backup, even before my fairy godmother showed up.
What a night.
"It just bothers me," I said. "I mean, we bust our saving people from things they don't even acknowledge exist, and what thanks to we get? A night in the lockup. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."
"Because it's the right thing to do," Michael said. "You're a good man, Harry. You saved a dozen innocent lives this evening. Isn't that enough?"
I deflated a bit. That's one of the things I was coming to really appreciate about Michael. I could never stay angry around him long. "Yeah," I said. "I guess that's enough."
Michael and I took turns dozing for the next few hours. It was maybe a couple hours before dawn when an officer let us out of the cell, telling us we'd made bail.
"Thank God," Father Forthill said when we walked out. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and his sunken eyes were filled with fear. "Harry. Did you send a young lady to me last night?"
I'd nearly forgotten about her- Lydia, was it? She'd shown up at my office the previous afternoon, convinced a ghost was after her and that she was in danger. I'd given her a talisman and sent her off to weather the night at St. Mary of the Angels. "Yeah," I said. "Did she make it?"
Father Forthill looked around the waiting room, at the cops and other bystanders. "Maybe I'd better tell you in the car. I understand yours is impounded?"
My muscles ached, I had a splitting headache, and I wanted nothing more than to just fall into my own bed and sleep properly for a few hours, but instead I got into Forthill's car with Michael and got a whole heap of new problems on my plate. The girl, the priest explained, had made it safely to the church just before sundown. And just after sundown, something had tried to get in. Something malevolent, and powerful. He described how they'd heard it destroying things outside, calling her name, rattling the windows.
"It stopped after a few hours," Forthill said as we pulled into the parking lot behind the church. "I left her alone while I checked the doors and windows, and when I returned, she was gone."
"Gone?" I asked. "Left, or just gone?"
"I found one of the doors unlocked. I assume she left, Lord knows why. It was only then that I got your phone message- I'm sorry you had to wait so long at the police station."
"Sounds like it wouldn't have been safe to leave until then anyway," I said as I got out of the car. "Uh, thanks for bailing us out, by the way." Of course he would have bailed out Michael, but I was a little worried about whether he'd help me, as well. Michael was a believer, a church-goer, and Forthill's friend. I was just the weirdo wizard who dropped by begging for holy water.
It wasn't quite dawn yet, and though the sky was beginning to turn from black to purple, most of what light there was came from the streetlights. The spirit, or whatever it was, had done a number on the floodlights that usually lit the parking lot. And the rose bushes outside the church. And the cars. I shivered, and not just because of the chill air.
"Perhaps we should get indoors," Michael said quietly.
"Good thinking," I said. "That thing might come back. I'll check out the damage out here once the sun is up."
Being inside a church like St. Mary's is a little weird for me. I've never been quite comfortable around churches. I might joke with Michael about it, but there's a very real history of people like me being killed by the faithful. Not so much in recent years, but that's mostly because most churchgoers don't believe in magic anymore, not because they've softened their stance. Even now, some of the apprentices of White Council wizards were lucky to get out of their backwater towns or villages alive once they started manifesting their abilities and the local religious authorities (of whatever stripe) noticed. You can't get away with public witchburnings anymore, but that doesn't stop quiet vigilante disappearances.
On the other hand, there's a very real power in faith. It's why places like St. Mary's are safe havens from some of the nastier supernatural creatures out there. Magic is the stuff of life, and if you get enough people together with shared intentions, that can create some very real magical effects even if none of them are practitioners. The effect is particularly powerful in Catholic churches, which baffled me until the first time Michael dragged me to Mass with him. I'm not saying I believe anything about wine turning into Jesus's blood or anything, but it turns out that whatever else it does, transubstantiation raises a hell of a lot of magical energy, energy which then just sits there, supercharging the prayers and faith of the congregation.
The energy itself doesn't bother me- it's actually pretty pleasant, and like most background energy, easy to tune out, like white noise. Still, it feels a little weird to just stroll in. It may feel benevolent, but it's a powerful force that I don't quite understand, and that makes me nervous.
Father Forthill filled in a few more details of the previous night while feeding us coffee and toast. Once the sun was up Michael and I gave a more thorough inspection to the outside of the church- no blood or other signs of some human or animal, even a supernaturally powered one. We were dealing with a spook of some sort, alright.
Michael and I agreed to split up, him to search for Lydia, and me to go consult an expert on ghosts, specters, and other things dead. I did manage to catch Mortimer before he skipped town, and he confirmed what I already knew and a lot more besides. Something was stirring up the ghosts alright, and causing turbulence in the barrier between our world and the Nevernever. I headed home to consult Bob, and was instead whisked off to the house of Micky Malone. After destroying the truly nasty piece of spellwork someone had thrown off of him, I returned home, exhausted, no closer to finding Lydia, and with a whole lot to figure out.
At least I had my car back.
With his usual freaky timing Michael called a few minutes after I stepped through the door. He hadn't had any luck on the Lydia front either.
"I need to ask Bob a few things," I said.
Michael made an annoyed sound, the sort that meant he had just suppressed a remark about how I shouldn't be consorting with spirits and by the way would I like to come to Mass next Sunday.
In return, I sighed in the way that I used as shorthand for "Shut up, Michael, and stop trying to convert me." Weeks of nearly daily association made that sort of efficient communication both possible and essential. "I'll try a tracking spell on Lydia afterwards," I added.
"Do you need me to pick you up?" he asked. He'd seen my tracking spells in action.
"Nah," I said, "Murphy got the Beetle out of impound for me."
His disapproving grunt translated roughly as "I hope you didn't ask that nice policewoman to break the law for you." I ignored it.
"Oh," I said. "Michael. I think... look, whatever is out there, it's nasty, and by looking into it we're probably attracting it's attention. You should probably sleep behind wards tonight." Actually, St. Mary's would probably be even safer, but whatever had gotten Malone had gotten past his threshold. If it could do that, I had no guarantee my wards would protect me. I'd be a lot more comfortable with Michael to watch my back.
Yeah, selfish. So sue me.
"Alright," he said. "I'll head to your place before dark."
"Good," I said, making a mental note to be sure to be back myself to let him in.
"I should go. I still have a few leads myself," he said. "God go with you, Harry."
"You too," I said, and hung up.
Time to talk to Bob and figuring out what the hell I was getting myself into.
Re: AU Harry/Michael, 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-03 09:13 pm (UTC)(link)Also, as a lapsed Catholic I particularly appreciated that detail about transubstantiation.
Re: AU Harry/Michael, 2/?
authornon Re: AU Harry/Michael, 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-04 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)Not to mention throwing a wrench in the gears of Grave Peril starting quite soon, necessitating a Rather Different Series of Events. Though yes, I intend to paralel the rest of Grave Peril, have a bunch of stuff happen in the months following (including Charity showing up!), and then cover Summer Knight, because ZOMG Elaine. Not sure how far I'll continue paralling the books :)
Re: AU Harry/Michael, 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-04 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)Michael knows they can take care of themselves!
AU Harry/Michael, 3/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-12 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)The demon sank it's teeth into my belly, and I screamed. It wasn't the pain of flesh tearing, of my guts being torn out. It was a deeper, worse pain, leaving me feeling strangely hollow, like he was eating my very essence.
"This isn't real," I said. "This is just a dream."
"Little wizard, whoever told you that dreams aren't real?" The demon licked my blood off it's grotesque lips and bent it's head towards me again.
"Harry!" a voice- a familiar voice- said. I frowned. Michael- I had seen the demon kill him. I looked- yes, his body still lay limp, on the ground.
The demon had heard him too. He snarled, and dropped me from his grasp. I fell.
And I found myself on the floor of my bedroom. A terrible wrongness flickered over my skin in horrible cold waves. I shuddered in pain and terror as the thing tore away from me. All my instincts told me to run, but when I tried to stand the floor lurched under my feet, and I fell to me hands and knees again.
There was a horrible shrieking noise, and a yell- Michael? And then there was someone there with me- arms around me, safe, comforting. "Michael," I croaked. My head ached, and my throat burned. The gentle pleasure of the vampire venom was gone, but the fuzzyness remained and every sense, every touch and smell and sound, was magnified. The jumble was overwhelming.
"Harry," he said. "Thank the Lord. Are you alright?" His voice seemed to come from miles away and inside my ear, painful and reassuring. I placed one of the smells- vomit, which seemed to be related in some way to the burning in my throat. There was a roiling sickness in my stomach, and a hollow ache below that, where the demon had torn at me. I looked down at my soiled but intact shirt.
"Harry," Michael said again, and the reassuring bulk at my back went away. I gave an undignified whimper in protest, and then Michael's face came into view in front of me. He peered at me, looking concerned. I wondered, absently, why I'd never noticed the thin ring of blue around the edges of his deep brown eyes.
Right. He'd asked me a question. I blinked blearily at him, trying to clear the fog from my head. "I don't..." There was something, something important I had to tell him. I couldn't remember what it was. Something had happened. I needed to do something about it.
"Lab," I said. "I need..." Bob. I needed Bob. Bob could tell me what to do.
My head spun when he helped me to my feet, and my vision started going black around the edges. The world twisted and shifted horribly, and I clung to him like an anchor. I think I was sick again, at some point. Somehow, he maneuvered the two of us down the stepladder into the lab. It was dark, the only light coming from the lamps upstairs. He managed to steer me into the barely-visible circle built into the floor, and I reached out with my will to close it. It was an exhausting effort, like lifting a hundred-pound box after running a marathon, but the circle closed with a satisfying snap, and I relaxed into Michael's arms. Then I relaxed even further, all the way down to the floor. I leaned appreciatively against Michael's leg.
"Boss?" I heard Bob say.
Michael jerked a moment in surprise- he hadn't ever actually seen me talk to Bob before. "Harry?" he said quietly. "Is that..."
"Hey, Bob," I said wearily. "This is Michael. Michael, Bob."
"Charmed," Bob said absently. "You look awful, Harry. What happened?"
"Vampires," I said. I closed my eyes, fighting the venom hangover. "Drooled on me. Right in my mouth."
"Eeeeuuugh," Bob said.
"Did they bite you?" Michael asked quietly, kneeling down to support my precarious sitting position.
I considered. It was difficult to think, but I dredged up the memories of the fight. Struggling. One of them held me down, spat on my face, and then... I remembered the vampire's screams as a wall crumbled away and let the sunlight in. That's when I'd gotten away. "No," I said finally. "I don't think so."
"Even if they had," Bob said, "that wouldn't be enough to turn him. Believe me, if he was infected, we'd know it. But just vampires- Harry, your aura's showing all sorts of nasty damage. Vampires shouldn't have done that- not Red Court vampires, anyway. They were Red Court? The ones that drooled on you?"
I frowned. "Bianca's. Met 'em a few days ago. So yes."
"The ones that delivered that invitation?" Michael asked.
"Yeah," I said. Kyle and Kelly, their names were. They'd shown up on my doorstep a few days prior, delivering an invitation to attend a party celebrating the elevation of Bianca, the local vampire madam, to some sort of vampire aristocracy. I had, of course, refused. "They have Lydia," I added, since she had in fact been how I'd gotten into the whole mess. She'd been a prisoner, drugged and bound in the back of a windowless van. And I'd been an idiot and gotten myself ambushed before I could save her.
"Lord protect her," Michael said.
"I was thinking we could protect her," I said. "I mean, once I can stand up without falling over again."
"Speaking of," Bob said, "I heard you screaming an awful racket just now. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you."
I shook my head, once, which caused a herd of elephants to tromp through my head. It wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't been on fire. "Just a nightmare," I said. "Nasty one, too. Side effect of vamp spit?" I leaned my head back against Michael's chest, which seemed to help a bit with the flaming elephant problem.
"I don't think it was just a nightmare, Harry," Michael said. "I saw something, when you woke up. I think it tried to attack me, but left when I went for Amorrachius."
"By something, you mean..." Bob prompted.
"A ghost, perhaps? No solid form. It seemed to leave Harry's body as he woke."
A cold feeling came over me. "That... that shouldn't... How did it get past my wards?" I blinked. "Wait, Michael, how did you get past my wards? Not that I'm not grateful..."
"You left your door unlocked," Michael said. "I don't know about your wards. I didn't notice anything."
I winced. I barely remembered coming in, but it was completely plausible I hadn't had the spare thought to lock up behind me. Stars, what if it hadn't been Michael who came to the door?
"Harry's wards are rather lacking when it comes to keeping humans out," Bob said. "And since you're here on his invitation, the threshold wouldn't be backing them up. Though- when did you come in? Before or after whatever attacked Harry came in?"
"Just a few minutes ago," Michael said. "He was already screaming when I got in."
"So, whether you accidentally broke the wards or not- Harry, you should check on that once you're recovered a bit- that means that this thing, this Nightmare, got in while they were intact. Just like it got over Malone's threshold." Bob and I had discussed this earlier, I remembered- though he sounded less, well, terrified of the prospect now. Now he sounded almost excited, like he had solved some puzzle.
"You've got a theory?" I asked.
"Yes," Bob said, sounding very satisfied, "as a matter of fact, I do."
It was, as it turned out, a good theory. It explained a lot of things. He thought that the Nightmare, whatever it was, was attacking people in their dreams. Sufficient intense dreams apparently poke out as little bubbles into the Nevernever, giving this monster it's way in without even encountering a threshold. We discussed the possibilities a bit, as my brain began to untangle itself from the mess it was in. This was an unpleasant and difficult process, and it made rational thought somewhat slow and sloppy, but I managed eventually. I told them about the dream, about how it had deviated from the real fight with Kravos and his pet demon.
And then it hit me. "Stars and stones," I said. "Malone was at the fight against Kravos. This thing attacked him, and then me. What if it wasn't just taking an advantage of a nightmare I was already having? What if this Nightmare, this ghost, is the ghost of that demon we took down?"
Michael got it. "Going after the people responsible for it's death. Which means..."
I gulped. "Which means, we've got to warn Murphy."
*********
(Authornon here... sorry I took so freaking long to write this part! I am still not quite happy with it, but it will do, I guess. I expect the next couple parts to take awhile as well, after that it should go more smoothly? I hope? Especially since every time I got stuck on this part I skipped ahead and wrote later bits?)
Re: AU Harry/Michael, 3/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-13 01:31 am (UTC)(link)Re: AU Harry/Michael, 3/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-14 08:04 pm (UTC)(link)AU Harry/Michael, 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-28 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)Michael had called Murph. Funny thing, she'd just gotten off the phone with me. Or rather, with someone pretending to be me, and pretty damn well if Murphy was fooled. Bob said that since the Nightmare manifested as a representation of what it was made of, and it had taken a big bite out of me, it would probably be able to take my form. Wasn't that a pleasant thought. Oh, and those powers I was missing? Yeah, guess where they'd gone.
When we got to the station, Michael slung the big sports bag he carried Amorachius in his shoulder as we got out of his truck. I grabbed my staff, as much to lean on as for it's use as a weapon, and a lunch box packed with a few magical basics, and followed him as quickly as I could into the station.
"Did I come this way?" I asked the greying old sergeant at the desk.
He blinked at me. "What?"
Michael put out a hand to steady me. "Did he come in just a few minutes ago?"
"Yeah," the sergeant said, peering at his clipboard. "Went up to see Lieutenant Murphy."
"Damn," I said. "Okay, I need to see her again. Could you buzz us through?"
He did. "What's going on here, Mr. Dresden?"
"Tell you when I figure it out," I said.
We hurried up the stairs to the S.I. office, on the fourth floor. It winded me more than it should have, but I pushed aside the pain in my lungs and nearly sprinted through the doors and into the big room where most of the officers of SI had their desks.
Murphy and Stallings stood in one corner of the room, in the middle of a crude circle of salt- I could see the reddish brown spot where one of them had closed it with their blood. Murphy had a hand on her gun, and a determined look on her face. In the other corner was Rudolph, being held in a chokehold by-
Myself.
I took a moment to stare at my double. He was dressed like I had been the night we took down Kravos. He had my face. He had used my face, my likeness, to get in here and threaten people. If Michael hadn't warned Murphy...
With a growl of rage I ran towards the thing wearing my body.
I heard Michael telling Murphy to stay where she was, heard his steps following mine, but all my effort was concentrated on taking down my double. I got my staff ready to wield as a simple blunt weapon, not stopping to futility try any magic.
The Nightmare dropped Rudolph and stepped towards me. "Ventas Servitas," he whispered, and I found myself knocked of my feet, pulled towards him. My vision started to go black around the edges, and when I got my bearings again, I was trapped, held in the same way Rudolph had been. Murphy, still in the circle, had gone pale. Michael stood a few yards away, Amorachius drawn and gleaming bright.
"Let him go," he said.
I felt the thin edge of a blade against my throat.
"Drop the sword, Knight," my double said. "Else I will slay him before you take another step."
"Michael, don't," I protested. "Don't trust him, he's-"
Michael, with a haunted look in his eyes, laid Ammorachius on the floor and stepped away from it. "Let him go," he said again.
To my surprise, my double did let me go, and I crumpled to the ground in a disoriented heap. I stared at the floor in confusion, and then looked up at the heavy thump and crash which I realized, after a moment, was the sound of Michael's entire body colliding with a set of metal shelves, followed by the shelves tipping over on top of him, along with the heavy binders they held. I could see him, still conscious but obviously struggling and in pain, trapped beneath the heavy shelves and their contents. The Nightmare stalked towards him.
And was waylaid by Murphy hitting him over the head with an iron crowbar.
He snarled and turned towards her, and I realized with a sick feeling to my stomach that she had broken the circle that had been keeping her and Stallings safe. "Forzare," he growled as he gestured at Stallings, and the officer was also knocked back against a wall. And then he grabbed at Murphy.
She put up a damn good fight. Despite the fact that, having taken my form, the thing had nearly two feet of height advantage on her and more strength, she had the skill to wield his own strength against him. Murphy could take me down easily. But that thing wasn't me. He had an endurance far more than a human would have, or he'd have gone down when she'd struck him with the crowbar. I wondered why he wasn't using magic. Was he tapped out?
And then he grappled her to the floor, pinning her down, and moved his hand into her head.
She screamed, not in pain, but in terror. I tried to summon any strength at all in me, magic or the simple physical ability to stand, but my muscles and mind both seemed entirely drained. My double looked almost blissful, completely absorbed in his task.
"Oh, Godson," a voice murmured into my ear, "what have you done to yourself?"
"Lea," I whispered in horror. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Why," she said with an almost musical laugh, "I've come to help you."
"Help me? You've got to be kidding."
"No, godson. I cannot face this creature for you, but I can give you some of your strength back. I can give you what you need to save these people. And all I ask, is that when you have, you fulfill the bargain you have already made, and come with me."
"You don't want me like this," I said. "Weak, and torn up. Wounded. Don't tell me you can just fix that."
"Oh, you will heal of those wounds in time," Lea said "And while you heal, such care I will take of you, such a pleasant passing of time."
Murphy kept screaming, but each time it was quieter, more muffled.
"Do you accept my bargain?" Lea asked. "You must act quickly, while the lady has mind left to save."
I stared at Murphy's wide eyes, feeling sick. "Yes," I said.
I felt Lea's lips brushing my forehead. "Then go, Godson."
And suddenly, the pain was gone, pain I hadn't even registered until I noticed it's absence. The sluggishness the vampire venom had left in it's wake was gone. I stood, with no weakness, no struggle, and simply having my normal physical strength back made me feel kind of like Superman.
But when I tried to gather my Will, it was as elusive as before. Lea hadn't restored my magical ability. Possibly hadn't been able to.
My eyes fell on Amorachius. I ran to where it lay abandoned on the ground. It thrummed with power in my hands as I advanced on my double.
He looked up just in time to throw an arm in the way as I swung towards him. The glancing blow hit with a flash of brilliant light, and he recoiled with a shrill scream. I readied for another swing as he scrambled away.
And then a cold, awful feeling came over the room, strangely familiar. It felt wrong and twisted, in just the way the barbed wire spell that had tormented Malone felt wrong and twisted. And then, the Nightmare smiled, and melted away into a sickly black fog.
The cold feeling passed. I heard Michael groan, and turned around to see him slowly crawling out from under the falled bookcase. "I'm okay," he said, wincing.
"Good," I said weakly, and turned towards Murphy. She stared up, unblinking, unmoving, lips still parted in a silent scream.
Lea stood next to her, flanked by two of her hounds. "And now, godson, it is time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain."
"Murphy's not safe yet," I protested. "I can't- I have to fix what that thing did to her. And kill it for good, before it comes back."
"You will come with me now," Lea said. "This instant." One of the hounds advanced towards me.
"No," I said, raising the sword again.
"Harry!" Michael yelled. "The sword can't be used-"
The hound leapt at me. I swung the sword wildly, and then-
I felt a jolt of pain and the sword flashed again. My hands went numb, and Amorachius fell from my grasp.
Lea grinned in triumph, but she reached not for me, but for the sword. "You are such a sweet boy," she said. "I must thank you for this, Harry. I could never have touched the sword if you had not betrayed it's purpose."
With that, she opened the barest glimmer of a doorway to the Nevernever and stepped through with her hounds, reality re-forming with barely a ripple behind her.
I stared at the spot she had been standing, unblinking.
"Harry," Michael said solemnly. His hand dropped on my shoulder.
"Oh god, Michael," I said, starting to shake. "What have I done? Michael, I-" I started to say, "I'm sorry," but that didn't even begin to cover it. How could I have been so- so stupid, so-
"Harry," Michael said. "There are people hurt."
Right. I made a quick survey. Stallings was winded and dazed, bruised but otherwise unharmed. Rudolph hadn't fared so well. He gibbered and babbled in terror, and I wondered if the Nightmare had done something to him, but he at least seemed aware of his surroundings. That just left Murphy.
She lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, unresponsive. I braced myself, looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of awareness. No soulgaze started. No response in her face. I felt for any spell like had been on Malone. Nothing. There was that, at least. I didn't think I could pull one of those out of anyone at the moment.
After a few moment's thought, I had Michael help me carry her back into the salt circle. I fixed where it had been scuffed out, and closed it with a tiny trickle of Will. I didn't know how to fix her, but at least I could keep her from suffering while I figured that out. It took several minutes for me to gather up the strength I needed, but I managed it. Murphy fell into a dreamless sleep, and I collapsed in exhaustion.
After some argument, Stallings called for help, with the story that Murphy had had some sort of seizure or fit, and then fallen unconscious. Michael's injuries and the fallen shelves were explained by him trying to restrain her, keep her from hurting herself. I'd rather have taken her somewhere with a good threshold, or to St. Mary's. There was nothing a hospital could do. But Stallings, being more experienced in reconciling the world of the supernatural to the world of bureaucracy, won out in the end.
Re: AU Harry/Michael, 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-28 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: AU Harry/Michael, 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-29 03:47 am (UTC)(link)Re: AU Harry/Michael, 4/?
(Anonymous) 2011-10-31 12:17 am (UTC)(link)