Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Notes in Part 0
-------------------------

Among the Living: A Measure of Guilt

4.

Van Helsing stared at him and turned his head
slightly, questioning. But even in the near dark Carl
could see that familiar cloud pass over his features,
and he found himself growing angry with Van Helsing.
He couldn't give up and give in to this! Not him, he
couldn't lose heart. Not Gabriel Van Helsing.

It was Carl's turn to advance. "What in the hell is
wrong with you?" 

Van Helsing retreated until his back came up against
another tree. "Carl. . . ."

"You're delaying our return to Rome. You avoid
populated areas. You can't even stand to be near me."
He cringed. He'd meant to emphasize his last word, but
not to the degree he'd actually voiced. "You can't go
on this way." And neither can I, he thought.

Van Helsing stared at Carl, wide-eyed and silent.

"Talk to me." Carl held out both hands, palms up.
"Would that really be so difficult?"

Van Helsing shook his head. "There's nothing to talk
about. What's done is done, Carl. Let's get you back
to the fire."

Carl had expected resistance. Plan B, he thought. B
for bold. He still held his hands as if in alms.
Inside, he rattled with apprehension. Please, let this
be the right decision.

"Did you see the moon last night, Van Helsing?" 

Van Helsing flinched as if Carl had struck him. 

"It was beautiful. Didn't you think it was beautiful?"

Van Helsing closed his eyes and shook his head.  His
chest hitched. 

"I heard a wolf baying at it in the middle of the
night." Carl steeled himself, determined to follow
through. For a moment he didn't think he could say it,
but he forced the words out. "Was it you?" He set his
jaw and pretended to be genuinely curious.

"Carl, please. . . " Van Helsing drew a shaky breath. 

Carl wanted to grab him and tell him there was nothing
wrong with him, the evil was gone, he was sorry for
everything. Instead he said, sotto voce, "So was it
you then?"

Van Helsing hung his head. When he spoke again, his
voice was so soft, so filled with despair, Carl's
heart broke for the man. "I cannot help what I am,
what evil has done to me. How. . . how can you mock
me? How can you do this?"

Carl couldn't maintain the fa�ade any longer. He put
his fingers under the man's chin and lifted his face.
"Van Helsing, how can you do this to yourself?" When
Van Helsing only stared at Carl, he continued. "Of
course it wasn't you. Yet I think you fear hurting
someone. Hurting me."

Van Helsing drew a quick breath. 

Carl nodded. "I thought so. The werewolf is gone, Van
Helsing. You will harm no one."

Van Helsing grabbed the hand that supported his chin
and jerked it away, though he didn't let go. "You
don't know what's inside me." 

Carl shuddered at the certainty in Van Helsing's
voice. He watched Van Helsing struggle with what he
wanted to say, what he didn't want to say. Carl would
not look away from his eyes. 

Van Helsing took a deep breath. "Carl, I. . . "

Carl had imagined this part involving an embrace, but
as much as he wanted to console him, he was still
unsure. He squeezed the hand that still held his, and
placed his other hand on Van Helsing's shoulder.
"Please. Let it out. Tell me."

"I--I can't." Van Helsing tried to release Carl's
hand, but Carl held fast.

"You must. Gabriel. . . please." 

The two men stared at each other for several moments.
Van Helsing shook visibly, and finally let out the
breath he'd been holding. "I can still feel the wolf
within me." He pulled Carl's hand to his chest and
covered it with his own. "Here. I can feel its power
wanting to break free. Its needs. Its desires. It's
part of me, Carl. It is me. I don't even know who I am
anymore." Van Helsing laughed mirthlessly. "As if I
ever did."

"I know who you are." Carl thought he could feel Van
Helsing's heart pound through the layers of clothing
and leather. He tried to breathe steadily. "You're
Gabriel Van Helsing."

The pressure on the back of Carl's hand increased even
as Van Helsing shook his head and whispered: "I'm a
murderer. A monster. Unworthy of your concern."

Carl's voice broke. "No." He turned his hand
underneath Van Helsing's and curled his fingers around
the other man's. "You are. . . my friend." He squeezed
Van Helsing's hand and gently pulled on his shoulder.
"You're my friend."

The look on Van Helsing's face was something Carl
would remember until his last day on earth: unshed
tears in his eyes, an unspoken response on his tongue.
It was a look of relief and at the same time utter
disbelief. As if he'd expected Carl to confirm his
worthlessness, label him as evil and unreachable, and
he didn't quite know what to do when that reaction
never came.

Van Helsing made a soft sound in the back of his
throat as Carl pulled him in, cradling the back of his
head with one hand, Carl's other hand trapped between
them, their fingers still entwined. Van Helsing fell
into the embrace, slumping down, his head on Carl's
shoulder, one arm wrapped gently around Carl's back.

He expected me to reject him, Carl thought. Just as I
feared he would reject my help.

Carl felt a warm tear slip down his cheek, and found
he could manage no more than a whisper. "You're my
friend, damn it." His lips brushed Van Helsing's ear
as he spoke, the contact sending ripples through
Carl's stomach. Is that all this is, he thought, just
friendship? He momentarily felt ashamed. Then Van
Helsing's arm tightened around his back, and he
thought of the risks he'd taken in just the last few
moments. And how much he cared for the man who seemed
so broken in his arms. 

"You're not alone in this, Gabriel." Decisive in a way
he'd rarely been before, he pressed his lips against
Van Helsing's neck, below his ear. "Never alone." 

----------------------------
End 

Continued in Among the Living: 2. Reasons for Penance

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