Characters beloved creations of James L. Parriot and Co.

m/m implied - for the Unnamed Faction

Alternate ending in response to the episode "Baby, Baby".

The whole episode was a visual treat; the interaction between Nicholas and LaCroix was stunning. LaCroix blowing Nick a kiss over the air was just perfect, and I could not let that go uncommented.
elfin

With thanks to Pfyre for beta reading on such short notice, and for the title!

"Holding To Eternity"
By elfin

LaCroix looked up, surprised to feel his son returning to the studio. He switched the transmission to music and waited for the door to open. Nicholas walked in slowly, and LaCroix fought to stop his aching heart showing in his features or arcing through their latent link with its strength. Instead, he carefully schooled his expression to one that Nicholas would be expecting to see, and gently smiled at his beloved protege.
"Legends, Nicholas." He spoke quietly. "Stories, beliefs that manipulate us. I told you that I didn't believe. I did not lie to you." Nick's quick glance was unreadable. "She is so like you, so willing to believe. Did the whole scenario not perfectly mirror my little wager with Thomas all those years ago?" LaCroix grinned, a little too self-satisfied, knowing how deeply Nicholas had already been cut tonight, and how he truly was twisting the knife. Nick continued to watch him, his fingers idly fiddling with some torn papers thrown to one side of the CERK studio console. "She, like you, believed that her salvation lay in legends, when she herself is a legend. So perfectly... tragic. Although, I must say, Nicholas, I was... proud of you, allowing her to continue. Did you really have to stay and watch?" Nick flinched slightly, and LaCroix backed off a little. "You do so enjoy torturing yourself, mon amis. I wish you didn't." LaCroix gave a small smile of what he hoped was some care.
"You kissed me."

LaCroix stopped, stunned, his eyes widening. It took a moment for him to regain his composure. "Ah. That. A gesture, of a father's love. I..." he floundered. It had just seemed appropriate. Maybe. He quirked his mouth into a smile, hoping Nicholas would not delve too deep. "Call it, sarcasm."
But Nick was shaking his head. "No. Not this time. You kissed me."
LaCroix stood, starting to pace on the other side of the console to his errant child. "All right, Nicholas. Yes, I made that small gesture of affection. I blew you a kiss over the airwaves of Toronto because for the very first time in so many centuries, I felt, finally, that you and I had a common bond." He turned, stopping, tilting his head slightly to regard his son in the dark light of the studio. "A child of yours had rejected you, spurned both your love and your eternal protection. Finally, you knew, if only for a moment, how you have made me feel for too long."

Nick took in what his father had said. His emotions were muddled. Even in this immortal life he could not, it seemed, do anything right. "I couldn't stand in her way. How could I deny her what I have searched so long to find?"
LaCroix leaned forward, palms flat on the console between them. "You did the right thing, Nicholas. Let it be. This once, forgive yourself." LaCroix's words were spoken with a tenderness that Nick had not heard in decades from his vampire master. The knife twisted a little deeper. He continued to play the scraps of paper through his fingers, fighting back the tears with ragged determination. "Tell me, Nicholas. Talk to me. All I can feel from you is a ... a thrumming pain. Tell me." LaCroix's insistent tone held less hiss than usual, and that pulled at Nick.

"I don't know. Throughout this whole thing, you've been there. From talking to me... reaching out over the radio as you so often do...." Nick managed a smile, and glanced at LaCroix, seeing the same expression reflected in that finely sculptured face. "You came when I called, gave me all the help I asked you for, even if you did make me beg...."
LaCroix shook his head slightly. "Oh Nicholas, mon cher Nicholah, when have I ever been able to refuse you anything?"
"Except my freedom." The words of an eternal request, this they were spoken with the lightness of habit, rather than the weight of hope. It was a minute change that LaCroix noticed instantly. He parted his lips to speak but Nick got in first, his voice little more than a murmur. "This has brought... an accord between us, LaCroix. One I would... regret losing at this time."

When LaCroix opened his mouth again, the words refused to come. At Nick's barely concealed chuckle, he shut it again. "I like to be able to surprise you, after all this time. I know... we have trouble with accords. But I just don't feel like fighting you any more. Not at the moment." Nick ducked his head to meet the other's icy gaze. "Please."
Finally, LaCroix found his tongue. "I'd... like that." Nick smiled, nodded, and burst into tears, the barriers finally crumbling. As he flattened his hands on the console, leaned foward and let the sobs rack through him, LaCroix's heart melted. Unable to ignore his son's anguish any longer, LaCroix moved around the console and wrapped Nicholas in strong, desperate arms. Turning, letting go, Nick sank into his father's embrace, strong and possessive. His sobs continued, his fingers clutching in the material of LaCroix's jacket, tears soaking the silk of his sire's shirt. LaCroix held him, enfolded him in the love that had always belonged to his golden, lost child. Long fingers combed gently through touseled blonde hair, as LaCroix whispered soothing nothings, snippets of old french remembered from so long ago.

Nick tried to swallow against the rising hysteria, leaning closer into the strong, *real* body that held him tight. "I'm sorry, LaCroix ... I'm sorry. She ... did to me what I've been... doing to you for all this time.... I'm sorry. I never... never realized what I was ... doing to you. I'm sorry."
LaCroix rested his cheek in his son's soft hair, squeezing him gently, firmly, accepting his ramblings as just those. "Ssh, mon fils, ssh.... I won't let go until you're ready, I promise."
"Just... be here."
"Mais oui, I'm always here for you. Always."

Together they rode out the last waves of Nick's emotional unheaval, until he pulled back from LaCroix, who immediately released him, silently promising his son that this breakdown would never go outside these walls, and would never be thrown back in his face. LaCroix truly expected an abashed Nicholas to mutter some small words of thanks, and to be on his way. He was not prepared for the expression on his son's face when Nick looked up sheepishly.
"I guess... that was my way of saying... that I still do need you." His low, beautiful voice was choked, but the words had been clear. Once more surprised, shocked even, LaCroix took a step back. Nick smiled. "You don't believe me. Is my asking you for help really becoming..." he searched for the words in his memory, "a bad habit?"

Blinking back his own, sudden tears, LaCroix shook his head. "No. Not at all. I should like it... if you asked more often." He felt like a blind man findig his way in an alien place.
"Good." Nick stepped forward, back into the circle of his father's arms, where he knew now that he was more than welcome. With a small sigh, he leaned back against that strong frame. "I must look like something from a horror film."
"Nonsense, Nicholas. You're..." LaCroix tried to find an adequate word and failed. "you're beautiful. You're my son. You're..." He stopped. Too much, too soon.
But Nick had already sensed it, something he might actually want to hear from his father's lips. "What?"
"It... it's not important."
"Yes it is." Nick leaned back slightly, looking into his father's eyes and holding that gaze. He suddenly dropped all his mental barriers, too tired and too stung to keep them up at the moment.
LaCroix steadied himself as the flood of Nicholas' thoughts and emotions fed into him, and the words fell from his lips as if pushed. "You're why I want to hold on to my eternity."

Before any more foolish words could be forced from him, LaCroix dropped his mouth onto Nicholas' as it smiled at him. Nick started in surprise, but after a single moment's hesitation, he allowed the kiss, even parted his own lips and invited LaCroix's tongue into him. The younger vampire snaked his arms around his father, under the black jacket he wore, to pull him closer, to urge him on despite the chorus of protesting voices in his head. Brutally, Nick shut them all up. He wanted this, he needed this. Tomorrow... would come, and he would see then what his heart truly wanted to do next.

*

He awoke to a feeling of warmth and familiarity. Opening his deep blue eyes, he gazed around his loft from the couch on which he lay, wrapped in a large, soft black blanket. His initial thought was that he was alone. But his lips turned up into a smile when his senses told him that it was merely a trick of the light. LaCroix stepped from around the pillar and smiled down at his son. "Good morning, Nicholas," he murmured cautiously.

LaCroix had been unsure of the welcome he would receive if his unpredictable child awoke to find their naked bodies wound wonderfully around one another. But he had had no wish to leave... just in case. "Good morning, Lucien." Nick's eyes sparkled, and he sat up, graciously drawing the blanket around him, settling into one corner of the couch. "What are you doing out there?"
LaCroix recovered from the greeting with impressive speed. "Fixing us some breakfast, dearest. I don't know if you remember our little stop off at the Raven...?"
Nick nodded, still smiling. They had made desperate, almost violent love in the CERK studio, sharing blood as if each vampire needed the essence of the other to survive. After lying on the floor together for a time, they had decided to move before sunset, although it had still been some hours off, and had gone to the Raven. There, if Nick's memory served him correctly, they made no secret of how they had spent the past two hours, decending into the cellar to chose some bottles. In the musky damp, passion had overwhelmed them once more, driving them to take each other vicously, to exorcise the demons between them, to leave them in a wonderful daze. Final stop had been Nick's loft, where a couple of bottles of blood had lead them on to a gentler love making, touching and caressing as if for the first time.

Nick remembered every detail. He did not want to forget. Yawning luxuriously, he reached out a hand. "Come back to bed."
LaCroix picked up the bottle he had been warming, along with two glasses, and strode over to the centre of the lounge. "That's more of a couch, Nicholas. If you recall, you could not find the energy to move from there to the bedroom. In fact, I think your exact words were, 'I'm too shagged, LaCroix, let's sleep here.'"
Nick blushed slightly, looking up to meet his master's twinkling gaze. "I think I may be able to find the energy now." He rose to his feet. "If you're... free to stay."
LaCroix's eyes shadowed for a moment. "Nicholas... are you sure about this? I have to know...."
"LaCroix, I can't see into the future, especially not one as long and complictaed as ours is sure to be. But I want this and I can honestly say that it is a ... new exprience. One that makes me feel more complete and secure than I have felt in centuries." Nick reached up and touched LaCroix's cheek. "But if you don't...."
LaCroix smiled, placing a single, long finger against his son's lips. "I love you, Nicholas," he breathed. "Never, ever doubt that. I, at least, will always be here for you."

They climbed the stairs together, hand in hand, heart in heart, mind in mind. A rare occurrance for two very independent, very volatile vampires. Who always needed one another.

fin
elfin