Last Knight/First Night

Yet another take on Last Knight, if y'all can stomach it.... Little more of a pure take on it than "Loose Ends" was.

Disclaimers: I don't own FK or much of anything else.

Spoilers: Ashes to Ashes, Last Knight



Last Knight/First Night (01/02)
By Caroline LaRoche
May 3, 1999


< -- I never got to tell you how I felt about you. But maybe you knew. I hope you did. You changed me. You opened my eyes, and I'll always...and I'll always love you for that. I'll take you to Screed. You'll be with your friend.>

************************

She threw a last load of dirt on the grave, dropped the shovel, and rubbed bloody hands on her jeans. Reaching into a jacket pocket, Tracy withdrew a single callalily blossom and dropped it on top of the mound of dirt, the sole monument to a fallen conquistador.

A single tear fell on the grave; Tracy left a dirty smudge on her cheek where she angrily wiped it away. It was as much anger at her own helplessness as it was anger at Vachon for dying, at Divia for his demise.

"Goodbye Vachon." She gazed through hazy eyes at the Toronto skyline. "...good luck." With that, she turned and left, oblivious to the unshed tears that blinded her.

************************

Tracy returned to the site a week later, a fresh lily in hand to replace the old one. She could hardly accept that he was gone. Sitting on the bare ground, oblivious to the dirt, she spoke to Vachon as if he could hear her. Told him everything she could think of, trivial or otherwise, asked questions even though he couldn't answer. Asked advice he couldn't give, told dumb jokes he couldn't laugh at. She stayed for hours.

Tracy returned the next week, and the week after that, and after that, after that...telling news, anything she could think of, just to talk. Just to imagine he would listen.

And late one night....

"...Nick's being a pain about it, too, as usual. And I really wish he and Nat would just get over this secretive thing and admit they're seeing each other." A laugh. "Well, at least I'm done with a few cases for a while. Maybe I can relax for once...yeah, right. Nick'd find some way to stick me with paperwork, right?"

Before she could answer herself, the ground shifted. A pale hand shot out of the loosened dirt. Tracy screamed and jumped away. A second hand joined the first. Drawing her gun, Tracy watched in disbelief as the ground sifted and revealed a dark head and....

"Vachon?" She reholstered her revolver. "It can't be...."

"Little help, please?" That familiar lopsided smile, weak, but there.

"Oh my God, Vachon --" Tracy fell to her knees beside him and began working away at the damp sod surrounding him.

A half-hour later, a filthy Vachon sat on the ground next to Tracy, examining the flower that had so recently been all that had marked his resting place.

"I guess this means I'm going to have to use your shower again."

"Guess so."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"You were dead." Tracy finally broke the silence.

"Well, not quite."

"What happened? Exactly. Tell me."

"I saw a child in the alley outside of The Raven. She sounded like she was crying, so I went over to see what was the matter."

"Good little Boy Scout vampire."

He snorted. "Whatever. She attacked me, bit me...the pain...." He closed his eyes against the memory. "The pain was terrible. Then I started seeing her memories, her evil. I knew what she was doing. I knew what she would do and I was powerless to stop it. I was sure I was dying, it was so intense."

"But you _did_ die. I staked you. What the hell were you doing keeping a stake, anyway?"

Vachon smiled up at her. Pointedly (no pun) ignoring her latter remark, he continued. "True, and it was a very close call. But you missed."

"I...."

"I wasn't exactly looking very closely when I rushed you. It wasn't by much, but the stake missed my heart."

"You died."

"I thought I had. The pain was intense, and...I suppose I went into something of a comatose state while my body tried to overcome Divia's evil and heal itself.

"I heard you, though. I couldn't do anything, but I heard you when you talked to me."

"You heard...."

"Everything, querida. It was just a matter of my body recovering enough for me to answer." He took her hand and dropped a kiss on her palm.

"We could never work, though," she echoed earlier words in a whisper.

"Maybe we should try before we say 'never.'"

Abruptly, Tracy stood. "Shower. You're filthy. I'll go by the church and see if I can find you some clean clothes."

Vachon stood up, immediately stooping into a courtly bow. "Lead the way, my Lady."

Tracy just turned red and mumbled something about how she was going to need to vacuum her car after this.

******************************

Tracy had returned with clothing by the time Vachon stepped out of the shower. Getting the soil out of his hair had been the worst; it had turned to mud upon contact with water and refused to budge. He made a mental note to himself that he owed her a bottle of shampoo. Squeezing water out of his hair, he walked out of the bathroom to seek clothes.

A small pile sat on the end of Tracy's bed. She was lying horizontally across the bed, eyes closed, looking completely exhausted.

"Trace?" She opened her eyes a crack. "Hey. Tired?"

"Just a little. I've been having some trouble sleeping lately is all."

"You working tonight?"

She nodded.

"Don't you think you should stay home? Relax?"

"Slack?"

"Hey!"

Tracy smiled wanly. "Low blow. Sorry."

"You shouldn't go in if you're not feeling well."

"I'll be fine." She sat up. "I'm probably just coming down with the flu or something. I can probably beg off early if I'm feeling really awful."

He ran a hand through her hair. "You don't look well." Dark circles ringed her eyes, and her skin had taken on a chalky cast. Vachon felt a tremor of...dread? Was it dread that ran down his spine? "Don't work too hard. Tell Knight to do his share of paperwork for once."

"Right." Her cel rang. "Vetter...Right. I'll be right over." She snapped the device closed. "Duty calls. Will you stay?"

"If not, you know where to find me. And by all means, take it easy."

"I'll try." Tracy grabbed her coat and was out the door.

*********************************

Last Knight/First Night (02/02)

By Caroline LaRoche (May 3, 1999)


Vachon pondered how to spend the evening after Tracy left. He was hungry, no doubt, but did he dare show himself at The Raven? Who of the community would be left to see him, anyway? Dare he reveal himself?

Eventually, he trooped back to the church. Nothing had changed; Vachon was at once shocked and unsurprised to see that a coating of dust and a family of stray cats under the bed was all that was different. His stock of blood was well on its way to turning, but he sucked down several bottles without tasting to slake his thirst.

Then he sat...sat...it could have been minutes or hours; time is relative, after all.

<-...there's no suggestion of foul play and everyone seems satisfied that Laura Haynes is a suicide, so...
-So?
-So, I was thinking of writing it up as such and maybe logging off early for the night, Captain, I...I feel something coming on.
-Okay. Sure. The flu _is_ going around. Tell you what. Go home, get some rest, get in bed.>

An ill-begotten police scanner sat on an end table, and Vachon listened idly.

"All available units, we have an escaped transfer at the 96th precinct. Suspect is armed and considered dangerous...."

'96th....' It took a moment for Vachon to realize what that meant. "Tracy...."

He took to the air even as the scanner continued, "Paramedics to the 96th precinct. Officer down, repeat, we have an officer down...."

<-No!
-Tracy...Tracy.... We need some help in here!
-You could have trusted me.>

He came in through a window and hid in the shadows of the darkened locker room. Tracy was surrounded by mortals; officers, paramedics...and then there was Nick Knight.

"Left pupil fixed and dilated, no response. BP is 80 over 60. Let's get her out of here! Tell the ER I gave her 100 mg of Lidocaine at 23-45." The medics wheeled Tracy out on a gurney. It was a struggle for Vachon not to follow. He could already smell that she was dying. Knight gave the retreating figures an angst-filled look. Vachon turned and slunk out of the room.

<-Nick!
-If she dies, it's my fault.
-How do you know that's what she wants? And why is it so easy to
consider bringing her across....>

Vachon got to the room Tracy was occupying just in time to see Natalie Lambert stop Knight from bringing Tracy across. Good thing; recently dead or not, Vachon would have torn him limb-from-limb had he touched her. Vachon watched the exchange within the room from the window, but he found that he really didn't care what wa going on between the detective and the doctor. He just wanted them to leave so he could see Tracy. Alone.

Eventually, Knight walked out, trailed by Dr. Lambert. Vachon slid through the window and flipped off the fluorescent ceiling panels; Tracy was asleep, probably comatose, from the looks of her injuries. The comforting gloom wouldn't bother her; he didn't want to have to see her, not well, anyway, in the state she was in.

He pulled a chair up to the side of her bed and took her limp, cool hand. The smell of death clung to her and permeated the whole room; it was entirely likely that she would not live through the night.

"Querida," he began, absently brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from her cheek, "querida, I know you can't answer me, but I need you to listen to me now, like I listened to you.

"I love you; loved you the first time I saw you, after that plane crash. That's why I helped you, protected you; I didn't know how else to express what I felt. And when you were there for me...I felt validated. Whole. Like a part of me I never knew I was missing had suddenly appeared."

Throughout his speech, Tracy hadn't moved. Only the slow, regular beeping of the heart monitor indicated that she was still alive.

"I hope you can trust me. This is the only way; you are dying and I don't think I could go on without you." Rising from his chair, Vachon listened for nearby mortals. Hearing none, he closed the door and shut off the pesky monitor. He kissed her cheek. "I told you to stay home." Her heartbeat was weak, but pounded like a drum in his ears.

The vampire was quickly seizing control, and Vachon quickly submitted to the Beast. Eyes normally chocolate-brown turned burning gold; fangs dropped. He could see the pulse in her neck in the carotid, saw as the heart weakened ever so slightly, and he could hold back no longer.

Gently, carefully, he sank razor-sharp canines into the artery. Tracy's blood was as intoxicating as wine, and the essence of callalilies and apricots flooded Vachon's senses. Too, he could see her memories, her experiences. It was torture to pull away, but not to would have meant her certain death.

Checking again for the presence of mortals -- with any luck, the heart monitor hadn't been connected to the nurses' station -- Vachon bit his wrist and held it to Tracy's lips, hoping she still had enough life and fight left in her to seize this last opportunity to live.

Then, for the first time in too long, she twitched. A finger, an eyelid, then she was sucking at the wound in front of her; an eternity and a blink, the intimate exchange over far too soon. He unwound the bandage from her head as she dozed, and carefully placed her in one of the sadistically hard visitor chairs.

The nurses' station was almost empty; the two nurses on call were engrossed in an infomercial and hadn't noticed the expiration of one of their patients. Vachon unplugged the monitor that had been attached to Tracy, then set to the nurses.

"Your patient, Tracy Vetter, is dead. The body has been released to the custody of the family." He would have to whammy the other two Vetters before all was said and done, but for now his worry was getting her the heck out of the hospital without a detour through Dr. Lambert's morgue.

"Vetter is dead..." one of the women repeated dazedly. "Should we tell the family?"

"They have been informed."

"Very good, doctor."

Tracy was blinking at the dull hospital room in awe; Vachon smiled.

"There are colors in here...."

"Just you wait."

"Javier, I'm hungry."

Inwardly, a shiver of pure happiness and pleasure as she called him by his given name. "I know. We'll go back to the church and I'll find you something yummy." He picked her up and prepared to take flight out the window.

"Javier?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you?"

"Why?"

"I would have died. I _knew_ I was dying. You cared enough to bring me back."

Vachon shrugged and would have turned red had it been at all possible for him to do so. He took to the air.

<-Tracy Vetter passed away twenty minutes ago.>

*******************************************

Finita???????


Thanks to everyone for _not_ beating me too badly for taking a bit to get this posted. I'm not making any disparaging comments about nurses' performances -- that just fit the story. Keep watching, maybe you'll see a sequel if y'all are good and eat all your peas.....

Comments to::Caroline
*Dark Perk, Vaquera, Mikie, Nick-Knack Caddy Whack, T & V Pack*

"You have to dance like no one's watching and love like it's never going to hurt."
"Go swallow a sock." Tracy

Return to Last Knight - NOT Page
Auntie Ren's Forever Knight Page
Auntie Ren's Dark Perk Page
Auntie Ren's Forever Knight Fiction