Chapter 1 - "Alone In a World That's So Cold"

"I know what I feel is real. I love you, and I don't want to destroy your life. I don't want you to feel obliged to protect me; I don't want to ruin what you've accomplished here, with Baby and your family," Anne said.

Spike took Anne's hand in his and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

"I want you to stay. Not because I feel obliged, but because I care for you. I want you here, where I can protect you, where I can love you. Here, where you're safe." Spike stood and pulled Anne up with him.

"Just say you'll stay with me…"

She nodded. "I'll stay." **

** From "Legacy" by Esme

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Wednesday 2:05 p.m.
July 25, 2018

Baby forced her hands to unclench from the gallery rail and turned away from the scene before her. She didn't want to see her husband kiss his new lover. She knew he had not yet taken the human girl to his bed but she knew it was only a matter of time. She'd seen that look of compassion and love on his face often enough. The only difference was that it had always been directed at her before.

Everything coalesced and became clear. It was all there in Spike's face when he looked at the frail, defenseless woman. It was in his soft smile and the tilt of his head. When he looked at Anne, his eyes were as bright and warm as the afternoon sunlight flooding Baby's garden.

Even here inside the house, she could still see the light glowing on his hair. He was a creature of light. Spike spent more time in the sunlight now than he did in the dark. Baby was now the one trapped in the shadows. She could no longer share the day with him the way that human child could. She was no longer his damsel in distress.

She didn't need his protection and strength. She had her own strength to rely on now. He had given that to her. He'd given her everything he had and now she was nearly a mirror image of what he had once been. And he had become something different. Baby had taken his hardness, allowing him to show the gentleness that was always inside him. She'd released the caring nature he hid while he unlocked the violence in her soul. She had become the monster he had pretended to be and secretly despised. No wonder he no longer wanted her.

Silently she moved inside and sat down at her desk. She pulled out a piece of paper and began to write.

My Dearest Spike,

It seems all I do anymore is make you miserable. You haven't been happy in a long time, but today I saw happiness on your face. It's about time. That girl makes you happy and I'm glad for that. I won't stand in your way.

I'll be all right and I'll call. Don't try to find me.

She didn't sign it. She didn't have a name anymore.

~~~~~

Interstate 10, east of Houston, Texas
Thursday, 1:05 a.m.
July 26, 2018

Jack Niemczyk glanced over at his lover. Baby hadn't said a word in over an hour. Of course, she hadn't said much before that. It was typical of her that after more than a year of not seeing her, she simply waltzed into his office and calmly announced that she was leaving town. "I'm gonna be gone for a while, Jack. You can come with me if you want to."

Arrogant attitude aside, the devastation in her eyes had frightened him. The pain she kept buried was all on the surface. When he'd agreed and said he only needed a few minutes to go home and pack, she'd said, "You don't need to bring anything. I'll buy you whatever you need. I got a suitcase full of money and some credit cards in a name nobody knows. I just need to leave right now."

He'd nodded and left with nothing but his badge, gun, phone, and laptop. It didn't matter how much time passed without her attention, in the end he still belonged to her. She'd given him freedom such as he'd never known. She'd taught him to live without boundaries. He'd be there for her if she needed him.

Besides, he'd missed her.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked. "You don't normally hand me the keys to your truck and tell me to pick a direction."

She made a noise that was some combination of a sniff, a humph, and a sigh. "You're the detective. What do you think?"

"That you're in a pissy mood." He eased off. She didn't need to fight. "I think you're hurting more than I've ever seen you hurt. You've left Spike. You want to tell me why?"

"No. But I will." She settled against the door and stared at Jack, wondering why he was the one she had gone to. "You know what I'm like, Jack. I think sometimes you're the only one who really sees me with no illusions." She turned away and contemplated the blacktop flowing beneath their wheels. "Spike hasn't seen the real me in a long time. He's been living with an illusion for years. I needed to leave before trying to hang onto that illusion destroys him." She took a breath that might have been a sigh. "He'll never be happy with me again. I'm not what he needs."

Jack nodded. He'd known about her marital problems from the very beginning. "Okay. I can see that. So why are you here? If you won't be with Spike, why are you headed west with me instead of headed straight for Beaumont?"

Jack caught the spasm of pain that crossed her face. "I swore to Spike that I'd never touch René again. I won't break that vow. I've hurt him enough. I won't add insult to that injury."

"So you're gonna be miserable for the rest of eternity just to spare Spike's feelings?" Jack asked.

"Pretty much," she snapped. "You're a sarcastic bastard, you know that?"

"Yeah. I know." He didn't sound bothered by the thought. His tone softened. "So you're gone for good then?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "There's no point in me staying if I just make him miserable."

"That makes sense." He watched tiny sparks of life bloom and die as insects impacted the windshield. "What's my place in this?"

"Whatever you want it to be, Jackie." She sounded tired.

"Third choice, huh?" He glanced at her but she didn't look back at him. "I can live with that." He thought for a while. "Companion. I want to be your companion. I want to hunt with you and have sex with you when you feel like it and learn everything I need to know to become a vampire." He set his jaw. "And when you think I'm ready, I want you to turn me."

"You saying you'll stay with me if I agree?"

"I'll stay with you regardless. But you asked what I wanted."

She laughed so softly he barely heard her. "All right. I won't deny you that wish. You've been completely loyal to me, Jack. Even when I was all nasty and demony, you stood by me. If Spike had found out you were in contact with me all last year, he'd have ripped your head off. You did a good job keeping the Feds confused, too."

Jack grinned. "My one great failure. I just couldn't seem to get a good handle on the Heartland Murderers." He sobered. "I was in Kansas, you know. I saw that town."

She swallowed and closed her eyes. "And you can still look at me?"

"Yes. I can still look at you because I see how much you regret it. I'll admit I came close to hunting you down myself that week. I wanted to stake you. But I knew that I had to give you a chance to get back … whatever it was you were missing. Besides, how could I say anything? How many times have you drained someone while I watched because I asked you to?"

"I'd have drained them anyway."

"Doesn't matter. I enjoyed watching you do it. Which one of us is the bigger monster? You at least need the blood to live. I just get off on it."

"That's a little too philosophical for me tonight, Jackie."

"Sorry. All I'm saying is that I'm here for as long as you want me."

She reached up and took his hand where his arm rested on the back of the seat. "Then I guess you're here forever."

~~~~~

Mobile, Alabama
Friday, 10:00 a.m.
July 27, 2018

Spike wasn't surprised that René's front door was unlocked. Who was going to rob the Master of Mobile? He stormed in and nearly collided with Sam Gerard. He ignored both his grandson's greetings and questions. Jean could deal with Sam. Spike headed straight for René's study. His son was seated with his feet propped on his desk, a nearly empty bottle of tequila and a glass on the blotter. "Where is she?" Spike demanded.

René looked at his sire blearily. He was on his third bottle since dawn and had just about reached a nice plateau of oblivion. "What?"

Spike grabbed René by the front of his shirt, pulling him halfway across the desk, spilling what little tequila remained in the bottle. "Where is Baby?" he snarled through clenched teeth. He ignored the glass as it rolled off the edge and shattered on the oak floor.

René's eyes held nothing but confusion. "What you talking about?"

Spike growled and shook him. Jean Claude laid a gently restraining hand on Spike's arm. He had been delayed when he paused to send Sam for Cordelia. "She's not here, Papa. Just smell. She hasn't been here," he said sadly.

René's alcohol-soaked brain slowly made enough connections to reach a conclusion that concerned him. "What's happened? Is something wrong with Maman?"

Spike released his son. René leaned on the desktop. Looking at him, really looking at his son and analyzing the scents and sights around him, Spike realized Jean was right. There was no scent of her in this house or on René. "Where can she be? I was certain she'd come here." This had been his only real hope of finding her. There was nowhere else for her to run. One good look at René's unkempt appearance further convinced Spike that Baby had not been in contact with her young husband. René, always so mindful of his appearance, was wearing a faded t-shirt and loose jeans that looked as though he had slept in them. His hair was too long and hadn't seen a barber's attention in weeks, and it had been at least two days since René had shaved. He was also mostly drunk.

Jean hated seeing René like that. He looked away and answered René's question, though he didn't want to add to his brother's concerns. "Maman left. We don't know where she is."

Sobriety hit René like a fist in the face. "Left? What you mean left? You mean left Spike?"

Jean nodded. René collapsed into his chair. He tried to say any of the several things that raced through his mind but none of them came out. He looked to his brother for answers.

Jean didn't want to have to explain how bad the last three months had been at Rue Royale. For the first three or four weeks, Jean had thought his parents' marriage had a chance. He thought they might be able to put it back together. But Baby drifted through the house as anchorless as she'd been the year before. She was perfectly lucid and had resumed her duties as matriarch, but her heart wasn't in it. She was distracted and withdrawn. Jean had glimpsed Baby more than once leaning against the closed door to René's room, not moving or saying anything, simply staring at it with hunger and grief in her eyes. He'd seen Spike turn away from watching her feed and refuse to hunt with her over and over, inventing a new excuse each time rather than admit that he couldn't stand to see her kill. She spent too much time hunting the alleys of New Orleans alone. Spike spent more and more time with Anne. Jean couldn't fault him there; he'd spent a fair amount of time with her as well. She needed them in ways that Baby didn't. How could Jean explain to René that things were no better than they'd been before he left? He didn't try. "She left a note telling us not to try and find her," Jean explained.

It made no sense to René. Baby wouldn't leave Spike. Ever. That had been an established fact in René's mind since the week he'd awoken as a vampire. He could never have Baby because she would never leave Spike. If that wasn't true then his whole unlife had been based on a lie. Everything he'd ever done had been for nothing. He tried to sense her through his consort bond. She'd become adept at blocking her feelings from her. He wanted to talk to her desperately. She was the only one who had the answers he needed. He could sense her presence letting him know she was alive and unharmed but he couldn't sense her emotions. She was out there somewhere but he had no idea where or why. This couldn't really be happening. René frowned. "She wouldn't leave for no reason. She's stayed through hell to be with you." He didn't add that she'd stayed even when they'd both wanted her to leave with nearly everything in their hearts. He stood and moved to stand before his father. He wasn't accounted the smartest member of the family but he wasn't stupid. "Why did she leave?"

"It's complicated. Since you left… Well, we tried, but it's been hard for us both. Things just won't seem to go back the way they were. She hasn't been… I don't think we…" Spike shook his head. How could he explain to René that the marriage they both wanted so desperately to succeed insisted on crumbling in their hands? "I was sure she'd come here," he whispered.

"She'd never come here. We both promised that we'd never…" René paused in mid-thought and stared at his father, an awful suspicion settling in his heart. "What did you do?" He was suddenly breathing. His study felt too close. He felt hemmed in and suffocated. When Spike didn't answer, René knew his suspicion was correct. Spike had said or done something to drive her away. "What did you do?" he demanded.

Spike's jaw clenched. René had no right to take that tone. "I have a friend who's in trouble. She's in real danger. Your mother overheard me talking to her."

This time it was René's jaw that clenched. This was about way more than a friend in trouble. René knew when Spike was prevaricating. And since when did Spike have friends that weren't Baby's friends as well? A premonition as ominous as an approaching storm gripped him. After all they'd done to try and put it all back together, Spike had messed it up. René's heart contracted. "What did you say?" he whispered.

Spike discovered he couldn't lie to his son when those teal eyes were fastened on him so intently. "I told Anne I loved her and I wanted her to stay at Rue Royale."

René had nearly been cleaved in half by an axe a few months earlier. He felt as though he were reliving that moment. Actually, an axe in the gut probably hurt less, he decided. Pain such as he'd never imagined was lancing through him. René had given up everything for Spike. He'd walked away from the only thing he cared about so Spike could have a chance to repair his marriage. He'd sacrificed any dream of happiness he'd ever have. René had crawled into a bottle and stayed there for the last three months so he wouldn't have to feel anything, and it had all been for Spike's sake. René had never felt so bereft or betrayed. He stared in disbelief at the man he had once loved and idolized. "Get out of my house," he whispered and walked from the room without another glance at his father.

Jean watched his brother go with acute distress on his face. He glanced toward his father and Spike signaled for him to go to René. Jean hurried after his brother.

Spike hung his head and wondered how he had allowed things to come to this pass.

~~~~~

Cordelia crossed her arms and stared at her friend. "So she's run out on you again?"

Spike dug about in René's liquor cabinet. "I think I may have given her a bit of reason this time." He didn't look at his old friend. "How have you been, Cordy?"

She shrugged. "Separated from my husband."

Spike straightened with a bottle in his hand. He scooped up a couple of glasses and settled in a comfortable chair. He poured two drinks and motioned for her to join him. The bitterness of her statement made him hurt. "Yeah, I know. He spends all his time brooding in my library. Haven't been able to get to my books decently since you left."

She didn't smile. She found no humor in the dissolution of her marriage.

Spike searched her hazel eyes. "Seriously, how are you, Cordelia?"

She took the drink from his hand and sat down. "Awful. I've been awful. Big with the crying all day and all night. Pretty much ruined my complexion." She took a sip. "René helps. At least I'm not completely alone."

Spike nodded. He'd smelled René on her when she entered. René had probably smelled like her too but Spike had been too upset to notice. "I'm a little surprised at that."

Her eyes were hard when she looked up from the liquor. "Why? He's the only one of the family I have left." She looked back down at the glass in her hand. "And I'm the only one he has left." She swirled the liquor without really seeing it. "You know he's going to be dead before a year is out, don't you?" She looked into Spike's shocked blue eyes. "Oh come on! You don't think he can actually live like this, do you? He'll get so drunk one day that he'll forget it's daylight and he'll wander outside. Or someone will challenge him and he won't have the heart to fight like he needs to. You don't have to be jealous of him any more because he's not going to be around very long."

"I'm not jealous of René."

"Bull shit. You're so afraid of him you can't think rationally," she stated flatly. He was reminded that she was matriarch of House Aurelius and a powerful woman in her own right. "You felt the same way about Angel and look how that turned out. You never had a problem sharing her with me or Wesley because you're not jealous of us. But René's a different movie of the week. You're afraid she cares a little too much for him and he cares too much for her. Well, you're right; they do. But they care about you more. And you used that against them. So now René's doing as good an imitation of the walking dead as I've ever seen and Baby's run off alone. Don't worry about it, Spike. In a couple of years they'll probably both be dead and you can get on with your life." She set the glass down. "Oh wait, she dies and you die. Life sucks, doesn't it." She rose gracefully, ignoring the incredulity on his face. "You'd better figure out something soon to save them both because I promise you that they can't live apart from each other." She moved toward the door. "I used to like you, Spike. I thought you were a good man. Now I think you're a selfish bastard just like Angel." There was a wealth of pain in her voice when she continued. "The really awful part is that I still love you both." She opened the door. "You'd better leave. It wouldn't be good for René to find you here."

~~~~~

"Go away, Jean," René said as he stared out at the rose garden. The summer heat had stripped it of its blooms and banks of green stretched monotonously to the trees. "You can't save me this time."

"Frère, please." Jean reached out for him. He felt his brother's pain and wanted to ease it as he had done so many times before.

René pulled away. "There ain't nothing for you here, Jean. You should go back to New Orleans."

"You're here." Jean let his hand fall to his side. He needed René but he was willing to take his time. He often had to coax René to accept the comfort he offered.

"No, I ain't." René didn't turn to look at him. Heat waves shimmered on the bricks of the garden path, creating mirage puddles, illusory and false. Nothing moved in the heat. "I'm not really here. I'm not really anywhere. I don't exist anymore, Jean. There's just an empty shell here that looks like René Beaumont. He's dead. He's been dead for months."

Jean had seen René devastated by his abiding love for Baby many times over the past decade-and-a-half and Jean had always pulled him back from that brink. "M' coeur…"

René turned to face him and the words froze on Jean's lips. He'd never been as afraid as he was now. It was as though Jean was falling into a void that would pull all hope from him, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. René's eyes were as dead as he'd said he felt. There was no spark of life in his brother's eyes.

René's voice was as empty as his eyes. "Am I? How can I be? How can I be your heart, Jean? How can I be your heart when I don't have a heart no more? It's been ripped out. There ain't nothing inside me anymore." Jean fell back from the desolation in those beloved teal eyes. "You can't love me back to life this time, Jean. I don't want to live." René turned back to the vacant garden. "It's best you don't see me again."

"Please, René!" Jean reached for him one last time.

René stepped away so that Jean's fingertips simply brushed the material of his shirt, leaving them more apart than they were before. "Go back to New Orleans, Jean. I told you, there's nothing for you here. There's nothing here at all." He turned and slowly climbed the stairs, his shoulders bowed with the weight of a grief too great for him to bear.

Jean leaned his head against the warm glass of the window and cried silently, tears sliding down the glass like raindrops from a summer storm.

~~~~~

"Honey?" Cordy said tentatively as she sat down on the bed beside René. The face he turned toward her was unmarked by tears. René never cried anymore. He said he had no tears left. "Are you going after her?

"No." He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "If she was gonna come to me, she'd have come. She doesn't want to be here."

She nodded and placed a hand over his. "Can I get you anything?"

He shook his head. "No, cher. There's nothing you can do."

She wrapped her arms about him and kissed his lips. "I can do this." She deepened the kiss, holding him tightly until she felt his arms come up and around her, until she felt him moan and open his lips for her. She lay back and pulled him atop her. As he moved his mouth to her neck, she whispered to herself as much as to him, "I can prove you're not alone. I can prove I'm not alone." She held him to her closely. "I can do that. I need to do that." She placed her hand at the back of his head, caressing and gentle, forcing his lips in contact with her skin. "We can still do this." The tears René could no longer shed slid from her eyes. "It's all we have left."

~~~~~

Spike felt his sons' pain but knew he could offer no comfort to either them or Cordelia. He wondered if there was any comfort to be found anywhere. He picked up a framed photo from René's desk and stared at his wife's laughing face. "Where are you, dove?" He reached out through their bond and felt her pain. It was as great as his own. He wasn't sure what he felt but he suddenly wished she had been here. Contrary to Cordelia's opinion, right now he'd rather she was with René than out there somewhere alone. "Where have you hidden yourself, rose?" he asked the photo.

Chapter 2 - "How Could You Just Leave Me Standing"

Mobile, Alabama
Sunday, 6:13 p.m.
July 29, 2018

"René?" Sam never called his sire "Papa" or "Daddy" the way some of the other children did. They had been on a first-name basis since the night Sam awoke as a vampire. Sam was nearly thirty years older than René; it would have been silly for him to even pretend that the three-year-old vampire could be any sort of father figure. In formal situations, Sam was glad to address him as "Father." He was quite proud to be the son of René the Beautiful and part of the Order of Aurelius, but he was well aware of his sire's failings. One of those failings was René's use of alcohol to deaden his sorrows, and René had been failing quite spectacularly for the last three months. Sam had been trying to catch him at a halfway sober moment for two days. "I need to talk to you and you need to listen to what I'm telling you." He knew that half the time René simply ignored most of what was said to him. If he didn't hear it, he didn't have to deal with it.

His sire looked up at him and sighed. He knew it was useless to argue with his eldest. "I'm listening."

"I know you don't particularly care about much of anything right now but I think you still care a little bit about Jean Claude," he said severely. He felt many of René's problems stemmed from the fact that the family coddled René too much. While Sam had a great deal of sympathy for what his sire had been and was still going through, he didn't think letting René wallow in his grief and drink himself into oblivion daily was any help to the other man. Truth be known, he wanted to shake René until his sire's teeth rattled. He wanted to do the same to Spike and Baby. If Sam had his way, he'd lock the three of them in a room and keep them there until they came to their senses or killed each other. At this point, he didn't particularly care which option they chose.

René ran a hand through his hair. "Of course I care about Jean. He's about the only one left I care about. Why you think I sent him away? He don't need to see me like this. I don't need to hurt him no more than I already have."

Sam nodded slightly. "Yeah. I figured that. I don't necessarily agree it's a good idea but I figured that's between you and Jean." He leaned against the doorframe. "But this isn't about you and Jean and the way the two of you manage to completely fuck up your love lives over and over again. This is about Jean being in trouble and needing his brother."

René frowned up at Sam. "Jean's never in trouble. Jean don't know how to be in trouble."

"Well, maybe that wasn't the right way to describe it," Sam admitted. "But that doesn't change the fact that there's something bad going on with Jean and he needs you." Sam picked up the bottle of tequila before René could reach for it. "Question is, can you stay off this stuff long enough to be there for him? You still man enough to do that?"

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Sunday, 11:43 p.m.
July 29, 2018

René walked up behind where Jean was seated and simply placed his arms around his brother. His hands rested on Jean's chest, allowing him to feel his brother's quick intake of breath. "I'm so sorry, Jean," he said softly.

Jean closed his eyes and leaned his head back against Rene's abdomen. He swallowed against the constriction in his throat. He was so exhausted and felt so alone. He couldn't believe René was really here. For a moment, he thought it was a dream. He'd wanted René to be here with him so desperately that he wouldn't be surprised if his subconscious conjured an image of his brother based on that wish. God knew that he was tired enough to have fallen asleep. But the body behind him was reassuringly solid. The scents coming off it were right, cologne, cigars, too much tequila, and an overtone of Cordelia. That was interesting and what convinced him René's presence wasn't a dream. In Jean's dreams, René only spelled of Jean. René really was with him. Jean wanted to bow his head and cry. But he wouldn't. He couldn't; too many people depended on him, just like they always depended on him. He sighed. He was tired of being strong.

"How long does she have?" René asked quietly. He wasn't comfortable in hospitals. They made him nervous and tongue-tied.

Jean stared at the woman lying before him. With tubes, IVs, and sensors attached to her both-shrunken-and-swollen body, she looked nothing like the woman he had married. Marie had never been a great beauty but she had always been careful of her looks. Now chemotherapy and radiation treatments had taken her hair and blotched her skin. He was grateful she was mostly unaware of herself and everything around her. She'd have hated what the cancer had done to her form. "They say she could go any time."

René bit his lip. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure that there was anything to say. René's experience with death had generally been quick and violent. Slow lingering sickness was beyond his knowledge. "Why you here all by yourself? Where's her family? She married again, right?"

Jean took a deep breath. "The bastard couldn't take it. It was more than he could deal with," Jean explained bitterly. "He took off months ago. I really want to kill him… the way Maman or Wesley would." Jean let the anger flow away. All it did was tie his stomach in knots and make his head hurt. Thinking back over the last few months, he couldn't maintain the rage. "Sometimes I don't blame him. There are nights I want to run away, too."

René ran his hand over Jean's shoulder, trying to offer what support he could. "She doesn't even know who I am anymore," Jean continued bleakly. "Between the disease and the drugs, she doesn't really know she's even here. She doesn't recognize me or the girls."

René had heard that was often the case in situations like this. He vaguely remembered an uncle dying of bone cancer when he was a teenager. He remembered his mama being a wreck for what seemed like forever. He'd avoided the house as much as possible that year. A three-month stint in Juvenile Penitentiary had helped. "How are the girls doing?"

"Emilie wanted to turn her when she found out there was nothing the doctors could do. Marie refused." Jean remembered that discussion all too well. "She said she'd much rather be dead than be one of us." Even dying, Marie could be cruel. Jean sometimes wondered why he hadn't seen that aspect of her personality when he'd courted her. He smiled bitterly. At seventeen it was unlikely he saw much beyond her engaging smile and her tendency to act impressed by everything he said or did. "Catrin spends her days here. She's been wonderful. Rochelle… Well, Rochelle and Adrienne aren't dealing with this well."

"Catrin is like her daddy," René said with approval. "They okay with you being here?"

The bitterness didn't leave Jean's face and though René couldn't see it, he could feel it. "They were more than happy to have me here to take care of everything. It left them free to do whatever it is they feel they want to do." Jean knew he shouldn't be so angry with his daughters, but he couldn't help it. It seemed that because of who and what he was, he was supposed to have no feelings. And regardless of Marie's failings, she was still their mother. They should all be here, not just Catrin. He tried to shake off the mood. "Ignore me. I'm just tired."

René came around and squatted before Jean. "I'm here now. You can rest."

~~~~~

Marie died thirty-three hours later. There were arguments, recriminations, and hard words about the time of burial and the way the funeral should be conducted and even how Marie would be laid out. Disgusted at what he saw as disrespect and appalled by the pain it was all causing Jean, René finally stepped in. Sending Jean away, René faced his brother's children. "Your mother's dead. The least you can do is let your father bury her in peace!"

"That thing isn't my father," Adrienne spat. "My father died when I was five!" She faced him defiantly.

"If he's not your father then why has he taken care of you all these years, heh?" René asked bluntly. "You going to some fancy school on his money right now, ain't you?" His sardonic expression somehow aged him. "I don't see you giving the money back. Guess you don't mind him paying for everything regardless of whether he's your daddy or not. You awful young to be that big a hypocrite."

She didn't back down, though Rochelle looked embarrassed. She was attending a rather expensive university herself and had honestly never really thought about where the money for her tuition, housing, and clothes had come from. Adrienne stared at René in distaste. "I'm not the only one. I know who you are. He introduced you as his brother but you're his lover." The disgust that curled Adrienne's lip was so over-blown as to be nearly cartoonish. Unfortunately, it was also heartfelt.

René stared at her without flinching. "Yes, I am. Thank God. Jean's about the only decent thing I got in my life anymore," he said proudly. He wasn't going to get into his or Jean's private life. It wasn't germane to the matter at hand. "And that doesn't change the fact that you gotta bury your mama and that's hard enough without you all fighting. Jean ain't gonna be able to take much more."

Catrin nodded. "I don't care if he's really our father or not, he's acted like a father should. He was there when Robert ran out on Mama. I think the funeral should be held so he and Emilie can come." She faced her sisters. "None of you were there at the end, but he was." As was she. And as far as Catrin was concerned, that was the final word on the subject.

Emilie set her jaw. "I'm not coming anyway. I don't go where I'm not wanted. I'm not part of your family anymore. You've made that clear. That's fine; I have a better one now. So it doesn't matter whether it's set so I can come or not."

René grabbed her by the upper arm. He might not have any control over the other girls but Emilie was his niece. "Oh, you're going," he told her. "If I have to drag you there, you're going. Jean ain't just your father, he's your sire and, by God, you gonna be there for him. You so proud of the family, then it's time you started acting like a member of the family." She growled up at him. René growled back, the deep uncompromising growl of an undead alpha male.

Emilie's eyes grew big. That growl had nearly frozen her insides. She had forgotten that René was a master vampire, accounted a lord among their kind, and one of the heads of her clan. She had forgotten that her father held the same sort of power. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "Of course, I'll do whatever Father wants."

"You father wants you to show a little respect to your mother." René released her and sighed. "That's all Jean wants. He just wants to bury you mama decently." He looked at the four young women. "Now you make up your mind before he comes back. Whatever you decide, he don't need to see you fighting. Jean's had about all he can take."

René sat down in the back of the room with his arms crossed over his chest and yellow fire playing about the edges of his irises.

Jean Claude buried his human wife shortly after dusk two days later with all four of his daughters in attendance.

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Friday, 11:08 p.m.
August 3, 2018

Jean eased the wedding ring from his finger and set it carefully in the back of his jewelry chest. It felt odd to think he'd never wear it again.

"You sure you ready to do that?" René asked from his perch on the edge of Jean's bed. Jean looked exhausted. The funeral had been hard and though it was early for them, Jean had been up for well over twenty-four hours. René was worried. Even vampires needed to sleep sometimes.

Jean nodded. "It's time. I probably should have done it years ago but I just couldn't." He turned to look at René. "I still felt married, you know."

"I know," René said and went to him. He enveloped Jean in a gentle embrace. "And now you don't," he whispered. "How long you been helping Marie, frère?"

"Nearly eighteen months," Jean finally admitted.

René gasped. All through the turmoil and heartache the family had been facing for the last year-and-a-half, Jean had been secretly fighting his own battles alone. "Jean!" René couldn't even grasp the magnitude of how horrible that must have been. "Why you didn't tell some of us? Why you not come to me?"

Jean shook his head, unable to speak. All the months of helping care for Marie and his daughters, of trying to help René and Baby through madness, of watching both his families fall apart, of trying to hold it all together against impossible odds crashed in on him. He sagged against René.

René held his brother more tightly. "Oh Jean, I failed you so bad!" He wanted to cry for Jean. He wanted to go back and do everything over. "Sometimes, I'm so blind and stupid."

Jean gave a humph that might have been laughter. "I love you anyway."

René, who thought his heart dead and gone, felt it shatter at the underlying sincerity of those words. "I know you do, Jean." He led Jean to a chair and coaxed him to sit before kneeling before him. "You the best thing that ever happened to me."

Jean stared into that face that he dreamed about daily and felt only desolation. "Then why can't you love me? What is so wrong with me that you can't love me the way I love you?" The breath he drew was shaky. "I'd do anything for you, René. Anything. I'd share you with anyone you wanted me to. I'd be anything you wanted me to be. Why can't you love me!"

René tried to speak but nothing would come from his lips. The hurt in Jean's brown eyes was as sharp and cutting as Wesley's switchblade. And caused just as much pain. He shook his head.

"No," Jean said, unwilling to be put off again. "You tell me this time. You tell me why I'm not good enough. You tell me what I'm not doing right. You explain to me what I need to do to make you love me. Tell me why you're not in love with me like I'm in love with you."

"I wish to God I could, Jean," René said. He couldn't look at Jean anymore. He couldn't stand to see what he'd done to his brother. "I wish to God on high that I could love you the way you want me to." His own breathing was evident and unsteady. "I'd be the happiest man on the face of the planet if I loved you best." He took Jean's hands in his own, their fingers twining with the ease of long familiarity. "There ain't nothing wrong with you, Jean. You damn near perfect. But there's something wrong with me. And there always has been." He looked down at their clasped hands. "And I do love you. Hell, I am in love with you and have been for years. I just… I just love her more."

Jean sprang to his feet and pulled away. "Her! I'm tired of hearing about her. All I ever hear in this house is her. She isn't worthy of you! If she loved you like she says she does, she wouldn't have let you leave. Or she'd have gone with you." He gritted his teeth. "It's what I would have done!"

René stared at him in shock.

"If she loves you so much, how come she's not with you? How come she's off somewhere with that pet of hers?" His lip curled up in disgust. "She ain't alone, you know. She took Jack with her. She's never alone. She's always got one of us tagging along." He slammed his fist into the wall. His fury with his sire's consort and the entire situation returned as strong as it had ever been. "And you and Spike just let her do as she pleases." He shook his head. "At least Spike seems to be getting over it. But you're letting her kill you. She turned you down again and you just crawled off to Mobile and curled up in a ball to die." He was gasping now. His fury died and his greatest fear returned. "And how am I supposed to live if you die?" Tears filled his eyes but didn't fall. "You keep talking about how you're gonna die without her. Well, I'm gonna die without you." He turned away. "I been dying for months now."

"Mon Dieu, Jean!" René reached for him. "I never…"

Jean jerked away. "Don't touch me. I won't be able to bear it if you touch me." Jean clenched his teeth against the sobs trying to escape his chest. "Because that's all I really want. I just want you to touch me!" He stared at hole he'd made in the wall. "But I can't let you because I know you'll just leave again. And this time you won't come back." He refused to look at René. "And I'm gonna be alone again. And I can't stand it anymore. I can't… I just can't…"

René went to him, batting aside Jean's fists when Jean would have pushed him away again, and wrapped his arms tightly around his brother.

"You left me! I needed you and you left me!" Jean wailed, all the agony inside seeking release at last. "I needed you and you left me all alone!" The brothers sank to the floor together as the tears finally fell from Jean's eyes. "Everyone left me all alone! I didn't have anyone!"

René rocked him, nearly overcome by Jean's pain. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't see…"

"You never see. No one ever sees," Jean gasped, trying to fight the pain that was eating through his heart. "Anne doesn't see beyond Spike. Spike doesn't see beyond Anne and her. You've never seen past her." He wanted to push away from René and he wanted to hold him forever. In the end, he gave up and allowed René to continue holding him. "You never see me. No one ever sees me."

René placed his hands on either side of Jean's face, forcing Jean to look at him. "I see you now." And he did. For perhaps the first time, René saw past the image of quiet strength that Jean projected to the vulnerable man they'd all taken advantage of over and over again. They'd become so used to leaning on Jean that they forgot Jean might need someone to lean on occasionally. "All these years, I been an idiot." He kissed Jean softly. "I thought you was so strong and that you didn't need me. I thought I was just using you to get by my own pain and that if let myself love you, I'd just hurt you. Truth is you needed me as much as I needed you." He kissed Jean again, just as softly. "I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was keeping your heart safe. Instead, I was just keeping us apart." He shook his head. "When all that time, we could'a been loving each other."

Jean stared at him in disbelief. "What are you saying?" Jean whispered.

René smiled at him gently. "You swear to me that you don't mind that I love someone else, too. You swear to me that it ain't gonna break your heart that I'm married to her and I'm gonna stay that way."

Jean stared at him, frozen between hope and terror.

René's smile grew, though it remained just as gentle. "If you can live with that, I'm yours."

Jean had to take a couple of breaths before he could speak. "Hers first but then mine? You'll be mine?"

René nodded. "Yeah. And you'll be mine. We'll live together just like you always wanted. I won't be only yours but I will belong to you." He smoothed Jean's hair off his forehead. "I can't live here but I got a whole house back in Mobile. You come to Mobile with me? Cordelia's there and she's been real good to me. You'll like her. So, you want to do that? You want to come live with me in Mobile?"

Jean thought of everything that New Orleans held for him. Olivia wasn't here; she was already in Alabama. The children had Shelley. Even his father was all right. Spike had Anne now and he would be fine without Jean. Jean could do whatever he wanted. He wasn't needed here anymore. "Yes, I want to come live you."

~~~~~

Baby lifted her head from Jack's shoulder.

"What? What is it?" he asked.

She stared out at the Pacific. "It's René." She looked up at her companion and Jack was struck by the softness of her expression. She smiled slightly, the first smile Jack had seen since she returned to him. "He's happy."

Chapter 3 - "Maybe You're Just Like My Father... Tearful"

New Orleans, Louisiana
Saturday, 2:03 a.m.
August 4, 2018

Spike frowned at the open suitcase and the stack of shirts in Jean's hands. "What's this then?" he asked coldly. "Going somewhere?"

Jean flinched a bit, startled. It was a testament to how upset and exhausted he was that he had neither heard nor felt his father's approach. René, on the other hand, had been aware of Spike since the moment his sire had entered the house. René placed a calming hand on Jean's wrist, a silent way of saying he'd handle this conversation. "Yes, sir. Jean's gonna come stay with me a while."

The severity of Spike's expression didn't lessen. "Is he?" He considered his estranged son. "I was surprised to sense you here, René."

"I sent for him," Jean quickly said. "I needed him and I sent for him."

"Don't lie to me, Jean," Spike snapped softly. "I won't put up with that."

Jean hung his head. He just didn't want Spike and René to fight again. He wasn't in any shape to deal with that tonight. Something cold had grabbed hold of his intestines and was twisting them. He felt ill.

"Jean, why don't you take Cordy's present to Connor? It's in the back seat of my car." René tossed Jean his keys. "You go on. I need to talk to Papa."

Jean clenched the keys in his fist, concern in every line of his body.

"We're just gonna talk. I promise," René assured him.

Jean nodded gratefully. He really didn't think he could face the two of them arguing again. He knew that if he was faced with anything else tonight he'd shatter like dropped crystal. He hurried from the room.

Spike watched him go with hard eyes. "So you already have him lying to me again?"

René refused to be drawn into an argument. "He didn't send for me, no. But he wasn't lying when he said he needed me. He did and I found out and I came." He didn't give Spike a chance to say anything hard and sharp. "Jean buried Marie today."

Whatever Spike had been about to say died unspoken. "Marie?" He looked to René for an explanation, his animosity forgotten in his concern for Jean Claude. "His wife?"

René nodded. "Yeah." René ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He'd have to remember to get it cut. "Papa, Jean's a mess. He..." René shook his head at what Jean had done. He still couldn't quite comprehend the magnitude of how alone Jean had been. "For the last year-and-a-half he's been taking care of Marie." Spike frowned at him in confusion and René continued. "Yeah, with everything that was going on here with me and you and... everything, he had his own problems. And he didn't tell anybody. He'd take care of us and watch us drive ourselves crazy and near kill each other and then he'd go take care of his human family and watch his wife die little at a time. He was spending half his time here with us and half his time with them." He sank down in a chair, tired himself from the upheavals of the last week and the turmoil his life had become. And now the one person he thought might escape with minimal scars had ended up torn to shreds. Jean was in pieces and René wasn't sure exactly how he was going to put his brother back together. He intended to set his own problems aside and try his damnedest. He faced his father sadly. "All those times we thought he was out hunting or with one of his cher amies, he was with Marie. He and Catrin been doing it all themselves. There toward the end, he did everything for her, fed her, bathed her, everything. Everything's been for her or for us. He ain't done nothing for himself in months. He ain't been hunting in weeks as near as I can tell; he's been living off bottled blood. God knows when he's been sleeping."

"Bloody hell." Spike sank down on Jean's bed, appalled. "He never said a word."

René shook his head. "No, he never did. And we never noticed." He was furious at his own blindness. "Sam found out somehow and told me." He leaned against the back of Jean's wing chair. "I came. I know you don't want me here but Jean needed me. I've tried to stay out of your way. I been staying at a hotel. But Jean wasn't in no shape to drive himself home tonight and he didn't need to be alone."

Spike waved the explanation aside. "No, you did the right thing." In the days since he had last seen René, Spike had been doing a great deal of thinking. "And this is still your home. I told you that."

René shrugged. "I figured after last week... well..." He couldn't get the words right. "I didn't think I'd be real welcome here."

Spike had the grace to look uncomfortable. All his philosophical musings aside, he had been cold and angry when he saw René standing in Jean's room. He'd let his emotions lead him to say cutting things that he didn't necessarily mean. "When your mother left, I jumped to a conclusion that I shouldn't have," he said. "I was desperate. You were the only one I could think of that she'd go to." He looked at René unflinchingly. "I'm sorry. I should have known she wouldn't do that. She gave me her word. But more importantly, you gave me yours." Spike couldn't sit and say this. He got up and began to pace slowly. "It's pretty obvious from the shape you were in that you hadn't seen her." He paused and considered his son. René was sober and dressed in a dark suit--Spike assumed that was for the funeral--but René was rail thin and dark circles marked his eyes. For once, René's beauty appeared faded. "You look like hell, René."

Rene shrugged again. "You don't look so good yourself." Spike looked nearly as tired as René felt. Physically Spike appeared well but he projected an aura of weariness completely at odds with his normal manner.

Spike sucked his teeth. "I'm getting better. I'll work my way through this. I hope you do, too. I really do." Spike had Anne. And his anger at his wife aside, she had been right about one thing: Anne did make him happy. He simply had to find some way to reconcile his feelings for the two women that he cared about the most. Was this what Baby felt for René and him? Was this constant tug in two directions what she always experienced? He had to find his wife and bring her home.

He looked at Jean's suitcase. "I can't believe he didn't tell us!"

"You know how he is. He didn't want to worry us." René wondered how many other times Jean had dealt with some private trauma alone and they had all been too self-absorbed to notice.

Spike fingered one of Jean's silk shirts. "So he's been half-killing himself trying to do everything alone." Spike sat down again. "God, I've been blind."

"We all have," René said sadly. He looked down at his hands before facing his sire again. He wanted to be completely honest with Spike. He didn't want any more secrets or lies. "Papa. Me and Jean, we had a long talk. We decided it's best if we're together."

Spike's eyebrow climbed. "You mean together together?"

"Yes, sir. Jean's alone and so am I." He wasn't really sure how to explain. He wished he had Spike's faculty with words.

"What about...?"

Spike didn't have to word the question. René smiled bleakly. "That ain't gonna change. If it was, I'd have done something about it years ago and we wouldn't all be in this mess." He wasn't sure if his love for Baby was a blessing or a curse. It had opened his heart to feelings he had never thought possible. It had allowed him to find the gentleness he hadn't known he had, but it had also broken him and destroyed everything he cared about. "Jean knows that and he swears it don't matter. He says being with me even knowing the way I feel is better than being alone."

Spike nodded. Hadn't he heard nearly those exact words? Hadn't Baby sworn that his love for Buffy didn't matter because she could live with it? Hadn't he been exactly where René was? "It can work." Hadn't it worked for him? Hadn't two of the best decades of his life resulted from that decision? Some of his happiest memories had been forged with a woman he loved second-best. It had all gone to hell, it was true, but there had been a plethora of reasons for that. "Just don't either of you ever try to fool yourselves. That's when you end up heartbroken."

René nodded. He knew Spike spoke from experience. "Thank you, Sire." He looked down again. For the first time in two years, he felt connected to his sire. "You be alright here alone?"

Spike nodded. A sliver of warmth stole through him at the thought of his son's concern. "I'm not alone."

~~~~~

Connor closed the book on antique swords and set it aside. "It's pretty cool. Mom picks good presents sometimes." He smiled up at Jean. "Maybe we can look at it together next week? There's some stuff in there you'd like."

Jean smiled gently as he sat down beside Connor on the young man's bed. "I won't be here, fils," he said softly, patting Connor's hand. "I'm going away."

Connor felt his stomach clench. "For how long?" He didn't wait for Jean to answer. "Forever. You're leaving forever." That's what they always did wasn't it? They always left.

Jean nodded. "Yes, son. I'll come back to visit or when Papa needs me but I'm not going to live here anymore."

Anger settled into Connor's chest and he thrust out his jaw. He had no idea how much that action made him resemble his father. "Where are you going?"

Jean recognized the tightness of Connor's mouth for what it was. Nonetheless, he didn't try to sugarcoat his answer. He'd always been honest with Connor and it was one of the foundations of their relationship. "I'm going to Mobile. With René."

"René," Connor spat. "I don't like him." He crossed his arms, pulling away from Jean's touch.

"You don't know him," Jean corrected kindly.

"I know he made you unhappy. I know Uncle Spike hates him. I know he's sleeping with my mother." Connor's eyes turned hard and cold. "I don't need to know him to hate him."

Jean shook his head. "That's not the way to feel, fils. And your conclusions aren't all correct." He turned Connor's head so the young man had to look at him. "Spike doesn't hate René. They love each other. Fathers and sons can disagree and even fight but they still love each other through it all." He placed a hand on his surrogate son's shoulder.

Connor made a noise of disgust. "Yeah. Right."

Jean wasn't up to fighting that battle with the youth again. "It's true. And René didn't make me unhappy. In fact, tonight he made me happier than I've ever been." He smiled.

Connor snorted. "What'd he do? Ask you to marry him?" he said sarcastically.

Jean's smile turned to a grin. "Yes. That's exactly what he did."

Connor glared at him in disbelief. "God! This whole family is insane." He shook his head. "So with everything he's done and even knowing he's having sex with my mother, you're going off to Mobile with him!"

Jean nodded. "Yes, I am. Tonight." He considered the sixteen-year-old for a moment. "Connor, I'm going to be living with René and your mother. I don't have to tell you how things are with the family. If René is with her, and he is, then there is a very good chance that I'll be with her, too." His gaze was steady while Connor thought about that. He gave the youth time to reach the proper conclusions. "You know I care about you, Connor, and that means I won't lie to you. If I live in Mobile, I'll probably sleep with your mother, too."

Connor thought about the way his relatives handled relationships. "Oh yeah. That's probably a given." He imagined Jean and his mom as a couple and found that the image didn't sting the way visions of his mom and René did. He sighed. "I don't mind you and mom being together. I just don't like René." Connor had never been able to convince anyone to tell him everything that had happened over the last two years but he had some ideas. And in his scenarios, René had played the role of villain. He wasn't sure exactly how, but he knew René was pivotal to what had gone wrong with the family as a whole. He knew his father hated René even more than Uncle Spike did. Of course, considering the way Connor felt about his father, being hated by Angel was a mark in René's favor. Connor looked at the one person he'd thought he could rely on and realized he was going to be alone again. "I don't want you to go, Uncle Jean," Connor wailed and launched himself into Jean's arms.

Jean hugged the boy close. "I know, fils. I know." How could he explain to this child what was happening all around him? How could Jean tell him that yet another person he relied on was cracking under the strain of their emotional lives? That if he stayed Jean would join the growing list of family lunatics? "You could come, too. René wouldn't mind. I know he's offered before."

Connor shook his head and pretended he wasn't crying. "No. Mom didn't take me when she left," he said bitterly. "She didn't want me then so she doesn't need me there now. I'll stay here with Uncle Spike." Spike noticed him once in a while. Besides, what was there to do in Mobile? Could any place be more boring than Alabama? At least he could find something to do in New Orleans.

Jean sighed. "If that's what you really want. But you remember that you can always come to me."

Connor nodded and hugged Jean tightly. "I'll remember, Uncle Jean." He'd remember that you couldn't rely on anyone. He'd remember that they always left, even the ones that really loved you.

~~~~~

"You sure?" René said and adjusted the cell phone so it was more comfortable. "You magnifique, you know that? Yes, and incredibly beautiful, too." He laughed softly. "Yes, and a wonderful lover." The smile on his face could be heard in his voice. "What'd I do to deserve you, Cordelia?" He glanced up and directly into Angel's fist. René went down hard, the telephone bouncing across the carpet.

"Merde!" he cursed and kicked Angel in the abdomen as the larger man reached for him.

Angel staggered back but quickly recovered and headed for René again. As the Cajun vaulted to his feet, Angel growled and fire danced across his eyes. "You fucking bastard. You're sleeping with my wife? I'm gonna kill you," he snarled.

René deftly avoided the first two swings of Angel's fist but the third clipped his shoulder. He evaded the full force of the blow but it was still enough to send him back against the wall. He knew he couldn't allow himself to be trapped there. René was taller than Angel but the older vampire was much heavier and immensely strong.

Angel's fist dented Spike's silk-covered wall as René threw himself to one side. He managed to land a kick to Angel's ribs and another to his shoulder before a block from the Irishman sent him flying. He flipped in midair and landed on his feet with catlike grace. René relied on his legendarily fast reflexes and his own superior strength in battle but he knew he was no match for Angel. He could only hope to knock Angel unconscious or evade him and run. René hoped to reach the pocket doors on the other side of room. If he could get out of the house, he had a chance. He knew he was much faster than Angel and he knew every inch of the French Quarter.

He ran straight for one of the Louis XIV settees and vaulted off its sturdy seat. He sailed over Angel's head, thanking the architect for sixteen-foot ceilings, and landed in a roll. He sprang to his feet and dived for the door. As his fingers brushed the polished brass handle, Angel's hand closed around his ankle, jerking him back and away from freedom and hope.

"That was good," Angel said. "That was really good." He smirked. "I'm impressed."

René kicked him, the sole of his boot landing flatly against Angel's face. Angel snarled but didn't let go. René kicked again and Angel batted his foot away. The older vampire twisted René's ankle viciously, grinning as he heard bones pop and break. René roared in pain but managed to slam his uninjured foot into the side of Angel's head. He pounded his fist into Angel's face three times in rapid succession before he managed to break Angel's hold on his leg. He scrambled away as quickly as his injury would allow.

"Oh no. It isn't going to be that easy, boy," Angel grated as he wiped the blood from his lip. "I'm gonna break every bone in your body before I rip your head off."

René feared that Angel wasn't lying. He swung a chair at his great-grandsire. Angel blocked it with his forearm, shattering it. René held on to one of the fragments. "I'll do my best to kill you if I have to, Angelus."

"You had your chance at that," Angel growled. "And you threw it away." His hand closed over René's, squeezing and pulverizing the Cajun's slender fingers. Angel smiled. He crushed them slowing, enjoying the feeling as he felt the bones in René's hand grating against each other and the wood of the make-shift stake. He laughed when René finally screamed. He turned the splintered end of the chair arm toward René's chest. "Then again, maybe I'll just kill you and get it over with. You're not worth my attention, boy." René pushed back with all his strength, his uninjured hand clamped onto Angel's wrist. Angel's arm didn't budge and the older vampire grinned broadly. "You may have had my minions terrified of you but you just annoyed me. You never understood that you were there on my sufferance. I let you stay around to keep Baby warm at night. I could have killed you any time I wanted to. I just didn't want to." He ground the fingers of his free hand into the pressure point of René's hip, eliciting another cry from the injured man. "But now I do. Cordelia's mine! You dared to touch her, you piece of shit." He squeezed René's hand again, crushing more bones and pushing the stake a little closer to René's heart. René's cry of pain was as lovely as any he'd every heard. Angel had his heavy frame pushed against René's slighter one so René couldn't use his legs to kick or push Angel away. He leaned in and snarled, "You dared to touch my consort and that's why you're gonna die, you bastard." The jagged end of the stake snagged on René's shirt. René's arms trembled with the effort of holding the deadly wood away for a few more seconds but he knew he couldn't maintain the effort much longer. He slammed his forehead into Angel's face. Angel staggered back and growled, his eyes turning yellow. "That's it. Now I'm gonna dust you." He bent and picked up one of the broken chair legs.

Spike's forearm locked around Angel's throat. "Not tonight, Sire." He pulled Angel off-balance and forced him to the carpet. Beau and Jerry grabbed Angel's shoulders, helping their sire subdue their raging patriarch. Connor stared wide-eyed from the doorway. Jean ran to his brother. As two more of René's siblings appeared to help, Spike stepped away from Angel and went to his eldest sons. He knelt and quickly assessed René's injuries. "Not bad. You held your own remarkably well," he said. René nodded and leaned back against the wall gratefully. "Let's get you out of here," Spike said, pulling René's arm over his shoulder. Shrieks and shouts from the telephone lying on the floor attracted his attention. Spike picked it up and spoke a tentative "hello" into the receiver. "Yes, Cordelia, he's alive. A bit the worse for wear but he'll be fine." He looked at René. "She wants to talk to you." René nodded and Spike held the phone to his son's ear.

"I'm alright, Mémé," René assured her.

Spike raised an eyebrow as he plainly heard Cordelia's reply. "Well, you better be because if you aren't I'm coming to New Orleans and I'm gonna kick Angel's ass!"

René grinned. "I'd like to see that." He smiled at Jean and used his uninjured hand to squeeze Jean's, assuring Jean that he really was all right. "Don't worry about me, m' cher. Me and Jean, we'll be home before dawn." Jean nodded. There was no way he was going to let René stay in the same house as Angel for one moment longer than necessary.

"He hurt you, didn't he? That big idiot hurt you. You only tell me not to worry if you're hurt! Oh honey! I'm so sorry. I should have known he'd be like this. Sweetheart, you get Jean packed and get your cute ass home where I can take care of you both."

"I will, m' belle ami," René answered.

There was a brief pause. "He didn't hurt anything ... important did he? I mean, everything's still where it's supposed to be?"

Jean's eyebrow shot up to match Spike's.

"No, belle. Everything still where it's supposed to be." René shot a look of pure loathing at Angel. "I promise you, he didn't hurt nothing that you and Jean gonna be wanting later tonight." He allowed a purr to creep into his voice just for Angel's benefit. "I can still make you scream, sweet cher." It took all four of Spike's sons to hold Angel down.

Cordelia's laughter rang out over the long distance line.

René grinned. "I'll see you in a few hours, Mémé. Love you, cher," he concluded and Spike took the phone away.

He held it to his own ear for moment before walking over to Angel. His sire was sitting on the floor thinking of ways to kill René slowly and painfully. "She wants to talk to you," Spike said.

Stark terror settled on Angel's face. Spike almost felt sorry for him. Angel swallowed and took the phone. "Hi, honey," he said gently. He pressed the receiver tightly against his ear, trying to block most of Cordy's words from the other vampires in the room. He winced. "Honey, I... But baby, I..." He winced again. "I couldn't help it, Cordy. I smelled you all over him and then I heard your voice and what you were saying and I just lost it." The words "idiot" and "moron" were loud enough for the room to hear. "I know I don't have any right... I know that... But sweetie... But... I know that I.... Yes, dear. Yes, dear. But Cordy... Yes, dear. I'll never... No, dear." Angel screwed up his face as Cordelia's voice grew louder and words became intelligible to everyone.

"...Can't believe you were such a complete asshole. If you ever do anything like this again I'll dust you myself! Are you listening to me!"

Beau scrunched his face up in sympathy for Angel and was grateful he was single. His brothers looked uncomfortable and rather terrified. Her stay at Rue Royale had been enough to convince every male in the house that Cordelia Chase-Angel was a force beyond their comprehension.

"Yes, sweetie. I'm listening." Angel sneered at Spike's grin. He avoided looking at René at all and so didn't see the satisfied glee on the Cajun's face. Nor did he see Jean bury his face in René's chest to stifle his laughter. "Cordy, Cordy please. I just don't understand. You know how I feel. I could understand if it was someone else. But why him?" The pain that flashed across Angel's face was all too real. He listened in silence for several minutes, pain and regret sharing equally on his countenance. "I'm sorry, Cordy. I'm so sorry, honey. I'd take it all back if it could." He turned his back to the other vampires.

Spike jerked his head, signaling everyone but Jean and René from the room. Angel nodded at him gratefully. "I know I messed up, Cordy. I know that. I don't think about anything else anymore."

René's eyes turned hard and the amusement in them died. He knew how devastated Cordelia was. Didn't he hold her every day when she cried over Angel's betrayal and lies? Angelus could brood all he wanted but he wasn't doing anything to ease Cordelia's suffering. René despised him.

"I just want you to come home, Cordy," Angel said. "I'll do anything you want me to. Just please come home." He nodded unconsciously. "I know. I just keep hoping..." His shoulders slumped. "No, I understand." He listened some more, glancing at René frequently. Something besides hate appeared in his eyes. "Then I'm glad. I don't want you to be alone." He drew a long breath. "All right. I love you. All right." He turned off the phone and let it fall to the carpet again. He turned and faced the trio that was making its way slowly to the door. "René?"

The Cajun turned to face Angel. The desolation on Angel's face was plain and painful to see. "She said you're the only thing that's kept her alive and sane for the last three months. She said you're the only friend she has left."

"I try to take care of her," René said softly. Still the truth of his words rang in the room.

Angel nodded. He remembered how gentle and caring René had been with Baby when they all been on the run. He thought of Cordelia alone in a strange city with no family or friends except this man. He was suddenly glad René had been there. "Thank you," he said harshly and stalked from the room. He didn't speak to Connor as he passed. His son stared after him for a moment before returning to his room alone.

~~~~~

As Spike and Jean began to help René from the room once more, the phone lying on the carpet beeped demandingly. Jean picked it up and handed it to René. René didn't recognize the number but he answered it. The list of people who had his cell number was very short and they only called in emergencies. He nearly dropped the phone when he heard her voice. "Bébé?" Only Spike and Jean's support kept him on his feet. He hadn't heard her voice in over three months. Not since he'd left her here in this house. "Are you all right? We all been so worried about you!" He listened for a moment.

Spike stared at his son and tried to hear what his wife was saying. The connection was exceptionally clear and he could hear most of what she was saying.

"...know you're hurt. Are you all right?" Spike closed his eyes. There was deep concern in her voice. He could feel that concern through their link and he realized she had to have felt René's injuries through the bond she had with his son.

"I'm fine, cher." René could barely believe she was speaking to him. He missed her so and sometimes dreamed of just talking to her.

"No, you're not. You're hurt. I can feel it. Are you in trouble?" The fear she felt for him warmed René. She still cared and somehow that mattered more than any injury or pain he might be feeling.

"No, Bébé," he reassured her. "I had a fight with Angelus. I got a little bit squashed. I'll be fine." He couldn't sort out his emotions. He wanted to hold her and love her and shake her for being stupid. "Spike pulled Angel off before he could do anything permanent."

"Angelus!" She sounded terrified. "Don't go near Angelus, honey. He's too dangerous. How bad did he hurt you?"

"It's just my wrist and ankle. I've had worse." He quickly assured her and then gasped as he felt her open their bond for just a moment. Her love and concern flooded him and, for that moment, he felt whole. She softly withdrew until he could barely feel her presence, nothing more than a tingle at the back of his head. He felt bereft. "See," he said shakily. "I'm okay."

"Please be careful. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you." That was a lie. She knew that she'd go completely mad the day he died. She had no doubts about that.

René nodded and whatever else she said was lost to Spike as she lowered her voice. René listened to her whispers for a moment more. "I'll do that. Are you coming home? Oui, I understand, m' amour." He closed his eyes. "Mai oui, m' belle ange. Je t'aime, aussi," he whispered. He put away the phone with a sigh.

He kept his eyes closed a moment longer as though that could hold her to him for just a second more. Finally he opened them and turned to his sire. "Maman said to tell you she all right and you should stop worrying," he told Spike. "She says you need to go be happy like she told you to."

Spike shook his head. He'd hoped but hadn't really expected she'd talk to him. It didn't matter. He'd think of a way to find her eventually. "I'll never stop worrying. Just like you." He found most of the anger in his heart had died. It felt good not to be angry with René for a change. He wrapped René's arm more securely around his neck. "Let's get you out of here and get you patched up."

Jean nodded. He decided to ignore his mother's phone call. He was too tired to think about it. He focused on his brother. "Oui. You let Papa and me take care of you. We'll get you bandaged up and then you and I will head out for Mobile."

René nodded. "That's what I want."

Spike agreed. "I think that may be best for everyone right now. I'm glad the two of you have worked it out. It's about time someone around here had a little happiness."

Still, there was an emptiness in his heart as he watched Jean drive away two hours later. He hadn't faced life without Jean since he'd turn the young professor. He was suddenly unsure if he could run his empire without Jean's steady hand on the tiller. With that uncertainty nibbling at his heart, he turned his back on the Louisiana night and went in search of Anne.

Chapter 4 - "Maybe You're Just Like My Mother; She's Never Satisfied."

Siskiyou Coast, Oregon
Saturday 3:04 am
August 4, 2018

Baby pressed the "end" button and put the cell phone away. René's last words echoed and rolled through her mind. "Je t'aime, aussie." She closed her eyes and shivered. When his physical pain had burst across her mind she'd been terrified. The thought of René hurt and possibly dying scared her more than her own death. Then to hear his voice after all these months… to open their consort bond and truly feel him… she felt the fragile equilibrium she'd built crumble. How could she face eternity without him?

Jack wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. His new bond was stronger than his previous link to her. Now that he was her companion, he felt her emotions and physical sensations more completely. He'd caught the echo of René's injury and the full force of her reaction. Anxiety still radiated from her. "What did Beaumont say? Is he okay?"

She nodded. "He's okay. He said he loves me, too."

Jack held her as she stared out into the darkness. She'd finally told him about Beaumont and her uncontrollable love for the Cajun. She'd told him just about everything about her life over the last couple of weeks. But when she'd explained about Beaumont and told Jack that she'd never take another consort, Jack knew she truly intended to keep him with her forever. At some point in the not-too-distant future, she'd honor her promise and turn him and they would hunt the night together evermore. He would become her son and her sole companion. His was the deepest bond she was willing to form any longer. He wasn't sure if she'd eventually set up a kingdom of her own as Spike had done or if she'd simply wander the earth as Wesley and Drusilla did. He didn't care. If she chose to build an empire, he'd help her rule it. If she chose to drift as they'd been doing since they left New Orleans, he'd see the world. He would have immortality and freedom and the taste of warm blood. He could think of nothing else he required.

He drew a deep breath, wondering when that would become a matter of choice rather than a necessity of life. He doubted if he would miss breathing. He listened to the waves pounding the rocks at the base of the cliff, the swirling waters eating away at the rock and earth the way time ate away at his life. Unlike the cliffs, the surf would not wear him away to nothing. He'd defeat time and Death. He tightened his hold on her. She was his key. She'd give him that victory. His gratitude was boundless. He gazed out at the ocean and wondered what the night looked like to her.

"Do you want to go into town and hunt for a while?" he asked.

She shook her head. She trembled still, racked with the aftermath of emotions that swirled like the riptides below them. "No. I don't feel like killing anyone. Except maybe Angelus." She took a deep breath. That brief connection with René, that momentary opening of their consort bond, burned. René was a fire inside her heart. When she'd felt his injury she'd nearly ordered Jack to drive her to Mobile. She shivered again and tried to get the vision of René being hurt by Angelus out of her mind. It wouldn't stop. If she hadn't heard his voice and had that brief moment of contact to assure her that he really was all right, she'd be frantic. It took all her self-control even now to keep from going to Mobile just to touch him and see for herself that he was fine.

Jack didn't need to be psychic or bound to her to know what she was thinking. "You can go see him if you want to."

She shook her head. "I don't dare," she answered. "If I see him, I'll never be able to let him go again."

He shook his head. He didn't understand all the permutations of her convoluted relationships with her husbands and didn't really want to try. He couldn't understand why she was here with him. If she loved Beaumont so desperately why didn't she just say screw it and go to him? Why do this to herself when the answer was so simple?

"It's not," she told him when he asked. "It's not simple at all."

"Isn't it?" he asked. "The way I understand it, Spike's found someone new. Why should he care if you're with Beaumont? He doesn't seem to care if you're with me. Why is this different? Why is sex with me okay but sex with Beaumont is forbidden?"

"You're not a threat to Spike. René always has been." She thought for a moment. "There's something running really deep there that even I don't understand. I sometimes think it goes beyond me. I think sometimes that Spike feels René is the only one who can challenge him. Angel's always had the same reaction to René. There's something about René that both of them find threatening." She covered Jack's arms with her own, pulling him tightly to her. "I think René was born to conquer and rule and they can feel it. I think they're afraid he'll take it all away." She watched the night sparkle. "They don't understand that's not what he's all about."

Jack leaned his cheek against the top of her head. He'd see her through this and any of a thousand future hard times because she'd given him everything he'd ever wanted. He concentrated and sent his support through their link as she'd taught him. "What's he all about then?"

She turned in his encircling arms and pulled his head down to kiss him. She could feel him offering his strength, mental and physical, for her to lean on. She slid her hands inside his jacket and sought out his warm skin. He shivered at the coldness of her hands and tipped her back onto the leaves and grass. The echoes of René's love and need seared her mind and inflamed her veins. She fed that need to her Companion. She'd lose herself in Jack and accept the solace he offered. It was all she had left. As Jack bit her shoulder hard enough to cause her to gasp, she answered his question. "Love. René's all about love."

~~~~~

Mobile, Alabama
Saturday, 9:25 am
August 11, 2018

Jean gasped and threw his head back as René's hand tightened. "Oh God." Jean smiled down at his brother. "I've missed you so much."

René's answering smile warmed Jean more than living blood. "I missed you, too, m' frère. I don't think I realized how much until now." He slid one hand possessively across Jean's body while he repeated his earlier action with the other. Jean gasped again and moaned softly. "You like that, don't you?" René purred. "That's good, huh?" Jean bit his lip and nodded. René laughed quietly. He hadn't lied when he said he hadn't realized how much he missed Jean Claude. He'd been in Mobile for over eight years now but he still longed for those halcyon days when the core of the family had been together in New Orleans. He'd never been happier than he was when his parents, he, Claudia, and Jean had been together at la Maison du Rouge s'Elevé. In his heart, the house on Rue Royale was still home and a large part of the reason he felt that way was because Jean was there. For René, a bit of home resided wherever Jean was. Maybe Mobile would finally feel like home now that Jean was here, in René's house, in his bed.

René's smile grew as he shifted his hips against Jean and watched pleasure flit across his brother's face. Over the past week he had discovered that driving Jean completely to distraction was immensely fulfilling. He had never imagined that possessing Jean, taking the initiative, could feel so good. Giving Jean pleasure had become René's priority. Seeing to Jean's needs and wants now filled René's days and nights. Jean had become René's reason for being. He had sworn his existence to seeing that Jean was happy again. There was only Jean and Cordelia. Nothing else really mattered anymore.

Jean opened his eyes and took in René's smiling face. He could barely believe he was here. He had wanted this for so long. Being in René's house, acknowledged as René's lover, spending each night in his brother's company and each day in his bed, was all Jean had wished it could be. He was afraid to go to sleep each morning, fearful that he would awaken to discover it was a dream. He shifted forward and kissed René with all the love he felt.

René's smile remained in place when Jean withdrew from his lips. The glow in those brown eyes was worth more than the most expensive what-not in René's house. It was worth more than the house and everything in it. He pulled Jean's hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before releasing it. The pure love that flowed from Jean was sweeter than anything René had ever felt. He wanted to return that love. He wanted Jean to know how he felt. He wanted Jean to feel his love. He reached down and wrapped his hand around Jean again, his fingers sliding easily over Jean's flesh. Jean sighed in bliss. It felt good to not have to make all the decisions, to not be the one responsible for everything, to be the one who was cared for, for a change. He'd surrendered himself to René and gloried in allowing his brother control. It didn't matter that René was the one lying beneath Jean; René was in complete control of Jean's body at the moment. Jean shivered at René's touch. That one hand, so recently crushed and broken, now ruled Jean's existence. Jean's world had narrowed to the feel of René beneath him and that one hand bringing him such ecstasy. Jean bit his lip as René continued to manipulate him, making him tremble and pant.

René gently guided Jean further back, positioning and pressing Jean against him, and watched Jean's eye grow round and fill with disbelief. He smiled tenderly at his lover. He lifted his hips insistently, pressing against Jean. "Push, Jean," he whispered. He brought his hand up and caressed Jean's cheek, silencing his brother's questions before they were spoken. "Push."

With wonder lighting his face, Jean complied, easing into his beloved René until they were completely joined. He stilled, simply resting, locked in his lover's body, overcome by the feel of René around him. He'd never believed René would allow this. René had been so adamant for so many years that no man ever touch him this way. Jean had long ago given up any hope of ever sharing this sort of oneness with René. He was besieged by sensation and overwhelmed by emotion. He could only stare at his brother as his heart filled his chest to near bursting.

René continued stroking Jean's face with his thumb as he said, "You always told me that what happened to me was wrong and that it wasn't the way it should be." His smile was as loving as any Jean had ever seen on René's face. "You always told me that if it happened with someone who cared, if it happened with love, it could be good." He took Jean's hand again and kissed it. Ocean-blue eyes inundated Jean's senses and a whisper-soft voice filled Jean's being. "Make it good for me, Jean."

Panting with emotions he could barely contain, overwhelmed with the trust René had in him, Jean kissed René's hand before lacing their fingers together. "Oh, I will," he promised shakily. "I'm gonna make it so good for you. I'm gonna be better than anyone you ever had." Jean had never wanted anyone more than he wanted René at that moment. He was astounded that René trusted him so much and he intended to prove to René why he was worthy of that trust. Holding tightly to his lover's hands, never looking away from that adored face, he began to move gently and slowly. Jean Claude DuValliere was accounted the best lover, male or female, in all of south Louisiana and he intended to use every skill at his disposal to show René how good loving this way could be. He swore that René would have no regrets for the gift of trust and love he was giving Jean.

When the stars themselves exploded for René and he cried out his love for his brother, Jean's joy was boundless and he knew he had everything he could ever want.

~~~~~

René held Jean closely, stroking his face, his shoulders, with dulcet fingers. "Jean? Are you really mine?" He shifted so he could look at his lover. "Did you mean it all those times you said you wanted to be completely mine?"

Jean opened his eyes. "I am yours. I always have been, heart, mind, and body."

René reached under his pillow. "Then will you wear this?" He held out a gold ring, fleur de lys circling the band. "Your hand looks funny without a wedding ring," he continued. Jean looked up from the ring and was caught by René's eyes. There was fire in their teal depths. "I want to see my ring on your hand," René said intently. "And my mark on your neck."

Jean gasped.

"Will you, Jean? Will you wear my ring and my mark?" René's eyes never wavered.

The force of that deep aqua gaze held Jean immobile. "Yes," he breathed. "Gladly. Proudly."

Never breaking that contact, René slipped the ring on Jean's left hand. "Then listen to me. I swear I will love you for as long as I walk this earth. You are m' amant, m' époux, m' mari. I swear that you always be a part of me." Jean was drowning in that intense teal gaze. "Whether secretly or for the whole world to see, you mine. You belong to me." He bit into his wrist and held it out to Jean. Jean broke contact with René's eyes to stare at the dark blood welling from torn flesh. The scent of René's blood filled his nostrils and he took the proffered limb, lowering his lips to the wound. "No one and nothing can take you from me. M'appartient." René began to breathe raggedly as Jean drew blood from the twin gashes. "For all eternity you'll be part of me. Forever." He kissed a spot over Jean's heart before moving to his brother's throat, rubbing his face against Jean for a moment before his bones shifted and his fangs appeared. "Les miens!" He sank his teeth into Jean's artery and drank, joining them in a bond that only death would dissolve. Jean's cry of completion echoed through the house.

~~~~~

René tossed in his sleep. In his dream, he held Jean as he had only a few hours earlier, that same joy filling him. But now an edge of unease stole in, marring his bliss. As he spoke the binding words that made Jean his consort, the body he held began to change. Jean's hair turned long and red, his face and body softened until it was Baby René held. Love greater than any he'd ever felt flooded him. He could feel her body tight around him, her arms holding him to her. He could smell the scent of her hair and her skin. He could hear her soft voice encouraging him, begging him to make her his. As he lowered his head to her throat and bit deeply he felt her sharp teeth sink into him and the pull as his blood flowed into her. Her blood filled his throat and his seed filled her body. He felt her inside his heart and mind. Elation such as he'd never known filled him and he lifted his head to see her eyes shining with love for him. He pressed his lips to hers, focusing their love in that kiss. He needed only this to make him complete.

"Traitors." The hurt and loathing in that one word reverberated in the featureless room.

René turned his head and met Spike's pain-filled eyes. Jean stood two paces behind his father, desolate. "Traitors," Spike repeated before turning away and vanishing. Silent tears flowing from his sable eyes, Jean followed.

"No," René protested softly. "No, it's not like that…" Baby's weeping slashed René's heart and he reached to comfort her but, with anguish twisting her face, she melted away, leaving him alone in the tangled sheets. Only the echo of her sobs reverberating in his chest remained, leaving him hollow and empty.

He woke with a start. He sat up on the side of the bed and ran a hand through his still-too-long hair. He sat silently for several moments before he leaned over and kissed Jean's hair. Rising, he pulled on a pair of pants and looked back at his sleeping consort. He snatched two bottles of tequila from the Chinese armoire and headed for his study, closing the bedroom door soundlessly behind him.

~~~~~

Santa Monica, California
Saturday, 2:43 pm
August 11, 2018

Baby sat up in bed with a gasp. She clenched her fists in her hair, pressing her arms tightly to her head, and screamed. Jack rolled over and gathered her to him. He held her as she shivered and didn't ask why she had awoken screaming René's name. She'd tell him when she was ready. When she calmed enough, he made her a cup of tea and brought it to where she sat curled on a sofa staring out at the bougainvillea that covered the patio across the way. She smiled fleetingly up at him as she took the cup. He sat down beside her and pulled her against him. He knew his body warmth gave her comfort. He held her in silence as the clock ticked away and the tea turned cold beneath their hands. Rising he dumped the untouched tea and refilled the mug. He returned and settled them both in their previous positions. "You feel like talking yet?"

"René's claimed Jean," she said flatly.

He thought of her screams on waking. "And that's bad?"

"I don't know." She looked down at where his hands rested on her stomach. "Part of me thinks it's wonderful. They belong together and always have. But part of me is terrified that they're going to get hurt. Especially Jean. I'm afraid for Jean." She looked back out at the flowers across the narrow path from their hotel room. Hesitantly, then with more animation, she told him about the dream.

"Any idea what it means?" he asked after she finished her description.

"It means I was right to leave," she said sadly. "It means I can't ever go near Spike or René again."

He placed his hands over hers where they were wrapped about the mug. She was shivering with a coldness that had nothing to do with the temperature of the air. "Are you going to be able to do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head and leaned back onto him. "I don't know, but it looks like I don't have any choice." She drew a shaky breath. "How did I let it get so messed up, Jack? What happened?"

He shook his head. "You've never told me. I know about Beaumont but I don't pretend to understand any of the rest of it."

"You think love should be enough. You think that if you just love each other enough it should get you through anything, but it doesn't." She set the tea aside and curled up more closely to him. "It just makes it worse. The harder you love, the harder it hurts. And the more people you hurt." She lay her head on his chest and let the tears she'd been holding back since she left New Orleans flow. "Don't love me, Jack. Like me all you want to. Desire me and want me but for God's sake, don't love me."

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Saturday, 6:00 pm
August 11, 2018

"Spike?" Anne was surprised to find him in Baby's office. The Master had studiously avoided his wife's private rooms since she'd left him. He'd walked out on a meeting an hour and a half earlier without a word to anyone. She'd been searching the house for him. She never expected to find him here.

"I'm all right, pet." He stood at one of the windows, staring out at the courtyard. "The garden doesn't look well. It needs attention," he said. "The gardener can't seem to get it to flourish like it used to."

"The garden looks fine. The flowers are glorious." she said gently. He continued to look out at his courtyard. "This isn't about the garden, Spike."

"Yes, it is. It's dying without her here." He turned to face her. "And she's dying away from here." And he was dying without her. A bit at a time, they were both dying. "She's crying. I can feel it." He turned back to the window

Anne went to him and held him, lying her head against his back. "She'll be all right. You've told me how very strong she is."

The impressions flowing through him weren't indicative of strength, but the heartache of a broken woman alone and far from home. "She's not strong without me. I'm her strength. I always have been. She told me so back when I was her world." He was silent for several long minutes. "I wish we weren't joined, Anne," he said desolately. "I honestly wish Baby and I weren't a part of each other anymore." If they were separate, perhaps she could find some peace. Maybe he'd be able to let her go and they could both find some sort of tranquility. Or at least, surcease from the eternal ache that gnawed at them both.

She nodded. "So do I. She's hurt you so badly," Anne said.

"And I've hurt her," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't stay here like this. It isn't good for you." She took his hand. "Come outside. It's time for tea.

He let her lead him from the room and into the waning day. Anne looked back at him. She'd prove to him that his garden was very much alive and he needn't worry so. She looked about. The flowers were beautiful, rainbows of color flowing against soft foliage. Ferns fringed the fountain and ringed the small pool. Even in the heat of a New Orleans summer it was cool and inviting here. It was a beautiful garden. Spike had to see that.

She didn't notice that the sun didn't penetrate Baby's garden and the flowers she so admired grew and flourished in the shade. She didn't realize that too much exposure to sunlight would kill them.

Chapter 5 - "This Is What It Sounds Like When Doves Cry"

Santa Monica, California
Monday 6:34 a.m.
September 10, 2018

"The sun's coming up. Why don't you come inside?" Jack asked as he stepped up behind her.

Baby stared out at the Pacific. "I'm fine, Jackie. The light can't reach me here." The bulk of their hotel was between her and the incipient sunrise. It would be nearly noon before it could reach this western patio.

Jack nodded. He knew she was right; he just didn't like to take any chances. He also didn't like her choice of words. He wrapped his arms about her and settled her back against his chest. She continued to stare out over the broad stretch of sand to the water beyond. "What do you see?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered. "Just the ocean." She leaned against him. "I like the ocean. It doesn't really change. It appears to, but just below the surface it's always the same. It's the opposite of people."

She had never answered his original question. She didn't tell him that the real reason she stayed out each morning was to watch color bloom in the sky and water. If she were lucky, if the smog and fog were thin, then some mornings the sky would turn the blue of Spike's eyes. Other days, if she were lucky, she'd see the color of René's eyes reflected from the ocean. She'd thought of going to Cancun, where the sea was always the color of René's eyes and the sky the color of Spike's, but decided she couldn't bear to see that all the time. Occasionally was better. Occasionally was something she could stand. It was enough to remind her what colors were when everything had gone so gray and dreary but not so much as to be a constant reminder of what she was missing by living in the grayness.

Today the mists were too thick, the sky and water were washed out and dull, covered in a drab blanket. With a sigh, she let Jack lead her back inside.

"Why don't you get ready for bed?" he said. "Do you want me to fix you a drink?" She nodded and he stepped into the little kitchenette. He liked the old hotel she had found. Built in the heyday of Hollywood, it was tiny and intimate. The hardwood floors squeaked and the many-layered paint on the walls was thick as plaster. Bougainvillea flourished against the stucco and birds of paradise bloomed in big tubs beside the shadowy path that ran through the palm trees outside their door. It was shady and cool, a garden-like place removed from the hustle of L.A. From the balcony, he could see the steep stairs that led to a black iron gate and the beach beyond. They'd been here for nearly a month now and Jack felt quite comfortable in their apartment-like rooms. The staff knew them as Jack and Abby Wilson. No one bothered them. No one questioned them. One nice thing about L.A., no one thought it odd that they slept during the day and only came out at night. It was peaceful here.

The serenity of the little hotel didn't seem to be communicating itself to her, though. It had been over six weeks since they'd left New Orleans and if anything she seemed more despondent now than she had then. She was quieter with each new sunrise. She was changing before his eyes into a different person. Already she dressed differently. She'd eliminated the extravagant, provocative clothing that had so irritated him when he first met her. He hadn't seen her in anything but jeans and loose sweaters or shirts since they'd left Texas. Her nails were still long and well cared for but now they were left natural and no longer sported unusual colors. He would have bet that if the Powers That Be hadn't altered her hair color that it would no longer be red. Baby Roxton had vanished. Abby Wilson was a very different woman.

Jack wasn't sure that was a good thing. He wasn't sure how he felt about Abby. Of course, he wasn't sure how he felt about Baby, either. He rather missed the flamboyance. He missed the outrageous behavior. He wondered now how much of it had been an act. He wondered if he'd ever seen the real Baby.

He admitted that he looked different, too, but he'd been slowly changing over the last two years. His time with her, his knowledge of her world, had changed him, and his outer appearance was slowly catching up with his inner transformation. He wore suits less and less. He'd found he preferred jeans, chambray shirts, and cowboy boots. When the job required him to don a suit, they were the beautiful designer ones that Baby purchased for him, as far from the average agent's attire as this hotel was from Royal Street. The buttoned-down appearance he'd cultivated so carefully had died and been given away to GoodWill with the rest of his belongings from Chicago. Now he'd left even those in New Orleans. He smiled; he didn't even own a suit. Somewhere down the line, their wardrobes, once polar opposites, had met in the middle. He supposed they had, too.

Still, the changes in her concerned him. Daily she grew... duller, dimmer, as though light and color were leeching from her, and leaving her grayed and muted. She was fading away as he watched. She still hunted but the vibrancy there had gone. It worried him.

When she went into the bedroom to shower and get ready for bed, Jack stepped back outside. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number he'd been told to use only in dire emergencies. Well, he figured this was as dire a time as any he'd seen.

He waited patiently for the call to go through. "Spike? It's Jack. Can you come to L.A.?"

~~~~~

Mobile, Alabama
Monday 11:23 a.m.
September 10, 2018

Cordelia leaned nonchalantly against the doorway of the Master of Mobile's study watching Jean glare at René. She had been pleased when René brought Jean home. She had become René's acknowledged lover months earlier but she had no problems with René's change in marital status. She'd accepted Jean into the household as though his appearance was an expected event. Maybe it was. She'd believed that something would happen to pull René from the brink of utter destruction. She had to believe they were meant to recover somehow or there was no point in either of them continuing.

She'd hoped René would be happy, relatively speaking. René had become precious to her. She'd been here with René for months now and she'd come to know him well. He was not at all what she had thought he'd be when she asked him to let her leave New Orleans with him. She'd expected him to be self-centered and shallow like many extraordinarily handsome men were. She found that he was indeed self-centered but not selfish. He was consumed with pain at the loss of his love, as shattered as Cordelia herself. Yet he was willing to try to comfort her. He'd opened his heart and arms to her. She discovered that René Beaumont was as caring a man as any she'd ever met. He was kind and gentle, more so than she'd believed possible. She hadn't lied when she told Angel that René was the only thing that had kept her alive and sane since she'd left her husband.

When he had called her from New Orleans explaining Jean's state and that he was bringing his brother to live with them, she'd had the first glimmer of real hope she'd had in months. She'd been happy. She'd been even more so when René had told her of his and Jean's decision to finally engage in a real relationship. Their resulting marriage had been a surprise, albeit a pleasant one. Not that she didn't understand it; Jean DuValliere was infinitely claimable. She had been impressed with him when she'd lived at Rue Royale, even though she saw little of the crown prince. The past month had increased her respect for him. She was also becoming genuinely fond of him. She'd hope he would bring some happiness to the house. But the last week had been a nightmare. René had returned to drinking with a single-mindedness that surprised even Cordelia and she had watched him descend into the depths of alcohol-induced forgetfulness for days at time over the summer. He was worse than she'd ever seen him. And now, to Cordelia's relief, Jean had finally had enough and intended to do something about it.

Jean plucked the bottle from his husband's hand, barely suppressed rage in every line of his body. "You've got me. What do you need that for?" he asked through clenched teeth. Before René could answer, Jean continued. "If you're worried about hurting my feelings, let me explain to you that it hurts a hell of a lot more for you to turn to the liquor to get you past whatever it is she's done now...." He paused to keep from shouting. "...Than it does for me to help you."

Jean didn't care what new tragedy his mother had visited on his brother. He had only rage for her continuing interference in his life. He was sick of Baby and her needs and her inability to settle for one man. He was sick of René's continuing blindness where she was concerned. Why couldn't his brother see that he could let her go or he could let her destroy him? Jean had realized that long ago. He'd loved her once, too, before she became a force of destruction bound to rip his family apart. It had been bad enough to wake up alone the evening of his marriage, but to find that he was alone because René was drinking again had hurt more than Jean thought possible. But René had apologized and for another week Jean had lived perfection.

But far too quickly, René had slipped back into the habit of drinking. He bounced between devoted attentiveness and drunken stupors. A couple of times a week became every other day and now every night Jean woke alone to find René had spent his day downing tequila. Jean had tried to talk to him. Had tried to gently find out what was going on in his brother's head. He'd tried to convince René to leave the booze alone. He'd been ignored. Gentle and loving wasn't working. René was locked in his need for their mother again and Jean's anger exploded. Why couldn't René listen for once? Why couldn't he simply see? Why did he always want something he couldn't have? Why did he always ignore what was right in front of him?

Jean glared at his husband. Jean knew the deal he'd made to be with René. And it didn't include watching René drink himself to death. "I'll take being second to her but I won't take being second to a bottle of tequila," he spat.

René stared at his consort. He'd never felt such anger as was now flowing from Jean. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to... I didn't think..." He was barely conscious but Jean's rage and need burned through their consort link tying him to some sort of awareness.

"You never think, René; you just react. So I'll do the thinking." Jean tossed the bottle against the wall, not caring that it shattered. In fact, it rather pleased him to hear the glass as it tinkled to the floor. "I'm better at it anyway." He was more than capable of taking the initiative in their relationship if he needed to. And it appeared he definitely needed to.

Jean snarled down at his husband. René had spent the last four days of their marriage in a staggering drunk. Jean was completely tired of it. He grabbed René by the front of his shirt. "I may be marked as your property, but by God, I'm still your older brother and I can still kick the shit out of you if need be." He shook René. "I'm not gonna let you kill yourself. And you're not gonna drink yourself into oblivion every day." He would not allow René to destroy himself. Jean had finally achieved what he wanted: He was René's husband. He wasn't going to let his brother throw that away. Jean would see that somehow they found happiness, even if he had to half-kill René to achieve that. Jean wouldn't be pushed aside again. "You want to lose yourself; you lose yourself in me. You're mine!" He kissed René roughly. "And it's time you started acting like it."

Cordelia applauded. "Thank God. I thought I'd have to slap both of you."

Jean arched an eyebrow at her. He had no idea how long she'd been there or how much she'd heard. Cordelia still confused him sometimes. He had no idea how much or how little Cordelia's powers showed her of her life. Jean was used to Drusilla, who seemed to see all permutations of the future simultaneously. He was certain Cordelia didn't possess the gift to that extreme, but he was sure that her powers had to color her life. "Why?"

"Him drinking and you moping," she explained. "I've had about all of it I can stand. You don't mope well, Jean. It's not becoming at all." She hadn't liked seeing the brown-eyed Cajun so hurt by René's actions. Jean had enough problems without René adding to them. Much as she loved René, she wanted to smack him for how he was acting. She moved closer to them and addressed René severely. "Jean's right. You don't need booze." He needed to quit hiding from his problems. And he wasn't the only one. She smiled at Jean. "You just need us."

Jean's other eyebrow joined the first. René simply looked confused.

"It's time the three of us had a long talk." She folded her arms across her chest. "René, you need to get your shit together." Before he could protest, she continued. "And so do I." She looked at Jean. "I'm through crying. I've thought about it for the past week. I can sit here and cry my life away or I can start living again. I've decided to live." Angel had hurt her beyond her ability to measure but part of the blame was her own. She'd been willfully blind to what was going on around her. If she'd paid attention earlier she might have been able to stop what later occurred or at least have walked away before her heart was completely engaged. She had watched René spiral downward for over a week now and seen herself reflected in his pain-filled teal eyes. She'd decided she wasn't going to be that pathetic. And she wasn't going to let René self-destruct, either. He'd been there for her and she'd be there for him.

She turned back to René. "When you first brought Jean home, you were better, then you went all Wuthering Heights on me again." She joined the pair and stroked René's cheek. "I don't know what's going on under that perfect hair of yours--which, by the way, is so unfair; you're a guy, you don't need perfect hair!--but you'd better get your head on straight." She glared accusingly at him, though the hand on his face was still gentle and soothing. "And right now." He wisely kept silent. She focused on the other brother and smiled. "Looks like I'm not going to have to use the speech I had prepared for you," she said and held out her hand to him. "Nice to see at least one man in the family has some sense."

"Thank you," Jean said sardonically. He wasn't particularly afraid of Cordelia. In fact, he'd found he liked her a great deal. He took the hand she offered and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

Her smile softened. "Well, since you and I have our acts together, you think we can get Hamlet here straightened out?"

Jean smiled back. "You mean the two of us? Together?"

She pulled his fingers to her lips, letting him know exactly what she had in mind. She took René's hand and smiled at him, waiting until he smiled back at her. She looked up at Jean. "No. I mean the three of us, together."

~~~~~

Santa Monica, California
Monday 11:53 p.m.
September 10, 2018

Baby was so out of it, so withdrawn, she didn't realize Spike was nearby until he knocked on the door of their suite. She looked in horror at her Companion as she sensed her spouse. "What have you done, Jack?" she breathed.

"Saved your life. Or ended mine," he answered and opened the door. "Come in, Spike," he said, ignoring her glare.

Spike inclined his head sharply as he stepped across the threshold. "Thanks for the call." He looked Jack up and down. A smirk appeared. "You're dressing like René these days," Spike said.

Jack bristled. "René has two pounds of silver on his boots. His shirts are silk, loud, and he wears them half-unbuttoned so he can show off that body he's so damned proud of. His jeans are so tight it's a wonder he can walk. He wears more jewelry than I own. He's an affront to decently dressed men everywhere." He folded his arms and glared at the Master of New Orleans, ignoring the fact that Spike's dress sense was nearly as outrageous as René's. "I am not dressing like him."

Spike laughed and started to retort when he saw his consort. Whatever he'd been about to say fled his mind. He brushed past Jack. "Pet." He stared down at her, all his well-rehearsed speeches suddenly seeming amazingly inadequate. He dropped down so he was on her level. "I..." There was only one thing burning in his mind. "Why, pet? Why did you leave?" Finding her note had been as bad as anything he could remember. Discovering she'd really left without a word of goodbye had hurt.

Jack moved past them both and went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He wasn't going to leave them alone: they might kill each other. He'd give them what privacy he could but he'd be nearby in case Spike walked out. If that happened, Baby would need him.

She shook her head. "I had to," she whispered. "I wasn't helping anything by staying."

Anger flashed through Spike. "And running out on me without a word helped?" He wanted to shake her. He wanted to bang her head against the wall.

"I didn't run out on you," she retorted. "I saw you with that girl and I just knew you didn't need me anymore." She set her jaw. "And I can tell by the smell that I was right. You've taken her as your lover."

Spike stood and moved away. He wasn't ashamed of taking Anne as his lover. So why did he feel so awful? He allowed the anger he felt to drown that touch of guilt. "Well, I didn't have anything to stop me, now did I? My wife didn't want me anymore." Saying the words hurt. Unwanted. Just like he'd always been.

"I never said that!" Baby countered and clenched her fists. "I never said I didn't want you. I said you needed to be happy." He was being obtuse again. How could he think she actually wanted to leave? Why was he always so blind?

"So you left me so I'd be happy?" Spike glared at her. Perhaps she was still insane. That was the only explanation that made sense. "You broke my heart so I'd be happy?"

"You don't look or smell very heartbroken to me," she snapped. She'd known he was going to take the human woman as his lover. It was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? He'd done what she'd hoped he'd do. Why did it twist her insides?

Jack poured his coffee and turned up the stereo so he didn't have to listen to them argue. For once, he was glad he didn't have vampire hearing. He sighed. He had a feeling he'd be staying in California for the foreseeable future at this rate. He'd never met two people more determined to make themselves miserable. The stereo didn't completely cover the recriminations and counter-recriminations that flooded the tiny living room. He shook his head. To any half-intelligent outsider it was obvious that they were both completely in love with each other and miserable apart. Why couldn't they see it? Jack wanted to knock their heads together. He listened as the argument escalated. He could read the words beneath each statement. He heard Baby's unspoken plea for Spike to just say he loved and needed her. He heard Spike's cry for Baby to say she still wanted him more than anyone else. Unfortunately, both of them were deaf to what the other was really saying. He rolled his eyes.

Trying to ignore the marriage imploding five feet from him, he tried to find something to focus on and concentrated on the love song on the stereo. He thought a moment and set his cup down on the counter with a click. He looked at the combatants and frowned. "Shut up! Both of you! Just shut up," he ordered.

Baby blinked at him. Spike snarled.

Jack ignored them both and hit repeat on the stereo. "Put your teeth back. Just shut up and listen for a minute." He turned up the volume.

Looking at the pages of my life,
Faded memories of me and you,
Mistakes you know I've made a few.
I took some shots and fell from time to time.
Baby, you were there to pull me through.
We've been around the block a time or two.
I'm gonna lay it on the line.
Ask me how we've come this far.
The answer's written in my eyes.

Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.

I've lived, I've loved, I've lost, I've paid some dues, baby.
We've been to hell and back again.
Through it all you're always my best friend.
For all the words I didn't say and all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way.

Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.

You can take this world away.
You're everything I am.
Just read the lines upon my face.
I'm all about lovin' you.

Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.

All about lovin' you.

He watched their faces as the song played out and grinned. "Now, can either of you tell me that isn't the pair of you?" They didn't say anything but he was fine with that. "Spike, do you want to divorce Baby and marry this new girl?"

"No!" Spike said instantly. "I would never..."

"Good," Jack interrupted. "Baby? Do you want to divorce Spike? Do you want to be free?"

"No!" She was as emphatic as Spike.

"Good." Jack didn't give her a chance to say anything else. "So neither one of you want to end your marriage. So far, so good." He thought a moment. "Baby, you say you left so Spike could be happy. Spike, are you happy without Baby?"

"No," Spike said forcefully and faced his consort. "I'm miserable without her."

Jack nodded and thought back over the last month. "Well, I can vouch for the fact that she's miserable without you." He looked at his mistress. "Your plan didn't work. He's not happy; you're not happy. Time to rethink the plan. Sounds like it's time to go home to me." He held his hand up. "I know. You're afraid too much has happened. That love isn't enough to see the two of you through. Well, it won't be if you two don't stop acting like idiots. But it's a hell of a good start. I think you two need to admit up front that you can't stand being apart. It's true, isn't it?"

Spike looked at Jack with new eyes. He had no idea the puppy was so insightful. "Yeah, it's true. I can't stand that house without her in it."

The look on Baby's face was everything Jack could have hoped for. "Good. Tell her about it."

Spike complied. He decided to be completely honest. He remembered a time when he didn't stop to think about how something would sound before he said it to Baby. "Anne helps, but she isn't you. The house is empty without you. I hate it."

Jack nodded. "Baby, do you like it here? Am I enough? I'm not, am I? I'm not him." The soft look in his green eyes told her that he didn't mind.

"No," she answered. "You've been wonderful, Jack, but you're right. You're not Spike."

He smiled and placed a hand on Baby's cheek. "I know that. It doesn't bother me. But seeing you waste away does." He focused on Spike. "She's a wreck. Has been for the last month. She gets worse each day. I'm betting you do, too." He smiled. "You need to talk. Not argue. Talk." He looked down at his lover. "Tell him how you really feel. Talk. You told me that the two of you used to talk about everything. Well, do that again for a change." He picked up his jacket. "I'm going for a walk." He left without another word.

Spike gazed at the door. "He's not what I expected."

Baby smiled softly. "He's something else, that's for sure." She looked up him. "He's right. We don't talk anymore."

Spike nodded. "I've missed that. More than anything, I miss talking to you." He came and sat down beside her. "I think of something or something happens and I turn to tell you about it and ... I don't know what happens. It just doesn't come out." He took her hand. "I saw a street musician yesterday and I thought of how much he'd have amused you. I wanted to tell you about him but..."

"But I wasn't there," she said sorrowfully.

"No, well, yes." He shook his head. "That's not the point. Even if you'd been there I don't think I would have. I can't seem to think of the words anymore."

She looked down at their hands. It looked so right, his hand holding hers. "Why? You've never had trouble with words. You're better with words than anyone I know."

"Am I?" he asked. "What can I tell you anymore, rose? What can I say that would interest you since..." He stopped abruptly.

"Since what, Spike? What changed?" She squeezed his fingers. "What did I do to make you hate me? I know there's René, but things had gone bad long before that. I just wish I knew what I did." She continued to look down, unable to meet his eyes. "I'd take it back."

He looked down at their hands as well. His wedding bands glittered on her finger. That had never changed. Whatever body she wore, his rings were always on her finger. Jack's song played over; he'd left it on repeat. "You didn't need me anymore," Spike said softly.

She looked at him in shock. She reached out and tilted his head up. "I'll always need you," she said. "Look at me, Spike." He looked the way he did in Sunnydale, the way he'd looked in Mexico. Buffy had caused that look and Baby had hated her for it. Now Baby herself was the one causing it because he thought she no longer needed him. She smiled sadly. "I need you so much; I'm dying without you. You're what keeps me alive."

A muscle in his jaw jumped uncontrollably. He'd lived in constant fear for four years of her leaving, and as he feared it had happened. Now he realized that he'd brought it on. He'd been so afraid she'd leave he began pushing her away. And she'd finally run. He took in everything about her and realized the truth of her words. She was fading away. For lack of his attention. Not René, not Jack, not Angel. Him. She needed him. She didn't necessarily need him to protect her or care for her but she desperately needed his attention. The band that had been squeezing his heart for years loosened and fell away. She might not need his strength but she needed his time and his love. And he needed her just as desperately. Her warmth no longer lay in her body, it lay in her eyes. The humanity he craved was still there, she just no longer wore it on the surface. She was his wife still. She was still the woman he fell in love with.

Something she hadn't seen in a long time shone from his face. He kissed her hand and smiled at her. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "I want to tell you about a street musician I saw yesterday," he began. "And then I want tell you about how silly Beau's newest childe is. And then I want to tell you how much I love you."

Jack's song continued to play and Spike decided to take the singer's advice.

Through it all you're always my best friend.
For all the words I didn't say and all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way.

She smiled and tears sprang into her eyes. "Please. I want to hear about all of that. I want to hear anything you want to tell me."

He smiled back. "I want to tell you everything. I've got four years of things I want to tell you, dove." He leaned over her, unable any longer to remain at even the smallest distance from her. He had to hold her again. "Tell me I'll have the chance to do that. Tell me you'll come home."

She looked up into eyes she searched the skies for each morning. She caressed one perfectly chiseled cheek. "You're holding me, aren't you? I am home."

When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.

His lips found hers as the song played its ending and began again.

~Fin~

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