by Will Stanton » Mon Dec 04, 2017 9:42 pm
Will stood outside the charred remains of a house in Chelsea. By now, of course, all the looky-loos and emergency responders had long since gone, leaving some yellow caution tape, a drizzly day, and a man alone in his thoughts.
Usually, around Christmas time, Will would be at home. Home, indeed, was the watchword for Christmas. Whether that "home" was his parents' cabin back in upstate New York, his life with Sara and Robin in their apartment, time spent with Sam and Nailah and (when she could be bothered) Aria during what he jokingly called the 'interregnum', days with Onyx and Simon -- or, best of all, everyone, all at once. Family. That's who you spent Christmas with. Family.
This Christmas, of course, was different. For the first time -- well, the first time he had been conscious of it, at least -- there was no one. Sam and Tereza were gone, off to the Emerald Isles. And even then, it wasn't yet the same, and likely would never be the same. That's the nasty part of time -- it moves on. Not a problem for most people, but, well, when you're technically 13.82 billion years old (next February) and from an alternate dimension, these things sort of come up.
Which brings us back to the rain and the road and the man and the house in Chelsea.
Now, you see, Will had promised Sam they'd play things her way when it came to the Miriam Situation, and he did feel a little guilty about being here anyway. However, he rationalized, Sam didn't know Miriam. Not like he did. Sam didn't know what she was capable of, if given the right push -- or the wrong push, as the case may be. No one on Earth -- either Earth, for that matter -- was more familiar with what could happen than he was. And he would make damn sure that no on else could be that familiar yet again.
When he was honest with himself, he was still sore that he had been left behind on the vampire chase, because of his personal history with them, as well. His first kill had been a vampire; it had taken him down the path that inevitably led him to become the man he was today. And that one he had done on his own, as his own person with his own ideals, and not as the Champion. That had haunted him for...well, for years, to be honest. Maybe that, on some subconscious, trans-dimensional level, was why Sam hadn't gotten him for this mission; knowing how the last time he had faced off against these creatures of the night had affected him. Well, he'd just have to prove his mettle yet again. And if doing so brought him face to face with Melpomene...excuse me, Miriam...once again, so be it.
Will crossed the road and slipped into the alley between buildings. To any passive observer, they would have seen a green-haired boy go in, and a bloodhound come out the other end of the alley. And it didn't take long before the hound picked up, through the ashes and smoke, the familiar scent of trouble.
Assuming he could avoid the all-too-avid and presumptuous dogcatchers, he would eventually arrive at the Sheridan hotel where, shifting back to spandex and uniforms, he went in and strode to the front desk.
"Uh, hiya."