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 façade 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: A Measure of Guilt



Feedback is lovely!--csnshelley@yahoo.com



Cousin Shelley


http://www.geocities.com/csnshelley


http://www.livejournal.com/users/cousinshelley/