Nick shrugged contrarily “Why? Are you interested in him?”
Mark was tired of his jealousy. “He’s yours, Nick. Nothing sexual about it. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve already staked your claim on him. What I’m asking is....what’s his real problem? Why is he the way he is? Do you know?”
After a few seconds of deliberation, Nick began. “If you haven't noticed, he lives in a dark, troubled world. He's like a Poe character, always depressed and gloomy, and he's not happy unless his life is completely morbid. He thinks of death and hell and he's back to normal. It's the way he is.”
“I thought so. I think we need to work on that. I don't like troubled souls. He's going to be happy or I'm going to kick his unhappy ass.”
“What's worse about his gloom is that is rubs off on you. You can be in a perfectly wonderful mood and after a few minutes with him when he’s in that ‘persecuted mode’, you're as depressed as he is. He's just like that sometimes. I used to hate the way he made me feel, spent a lot my time either trying to cheer him up or staying away from him.”
“Why is he like that?”
“I don’t know. Lotta bad memories.”
Although Mark had given away his most phenomenal gift, his perception was still very vivid. “His are nothing compared to yours.”
“Mine are none of your business.”
“If they weren’t my business, I wouldn’t know about them.”
Nick’s wit failed him. “I’m going to bed.” he grumbled.
“Sometimes it helps to share your troubles.”
“No, it doesn’t. All it does is make other people miserable, too.” Nick said. “Thanks, Mark, but I don’t wanta talk about it. I’m going to bed, now. Good night.”
“Good night, Nick.”
_________________________________________________________
“Mark,” Nick whispered, “Listen.”
Mark sat up, trying to think clearly, to will away the drowsiness without sudden movements. “What is it?” he asked. “He's not breathing!”
Without question, Mark raised to his hands and knees, put his ear to Derek's face, then his chest. “Light the lamp!” he said in near panic. “Hurry up!”
Nick jumped out of his warm blanket, fumbled for a match and lit the old kerosene lantern. He stirred quickly in the smoldering fire for embers. He pitched on kindling for light and warmth, which miraculously established a small burst of flames. He sank to his knees beside Derek, watched as Mark performed CPR, first pumping his chest with two hands, then blowing precious air into his lungs, but, after several long seconds, his efforts were unrewarded. Not even a single twitch of an eyelid. Derek laid dead on the blankets.
“What are we gonna do?” Nick's voice trembled. He tried not to let the fear take him over, but it was filling him far past his emotional limits, spilling the overflow down into his chest. His multi-colored eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, his mouth hung loose with the fear that Derek Rayne was lost to them forever.
He pictured him lying in a casket, dead, then the vision was booted out with vehemence. His mind would not accept it.
Mark tried again, pumping the chest, blowing hard into his mouth, pumping again, blowing again. “Come on, damn it!” he said viciously as he pounded with the side of his fist on the dead man's chest. “Breathe, damn it, breathe! Derek, I swear, I'll kick your ass if you don't open your eyes right now and look at me! Come on!” He blew more air into him.
“He's not moving.” Nick sobbed. “Mark, he's not moving.”
Mark would not give up. Pounding again, the determination glowed on his face. He blew into him again, feeling the whoosh against his cheek as it was expelled, the first time it had been returned. “There.” he said, hope rising. “Nick, help me. He's trying to breathe.”
Nick listened at his chest, heard the faintest of heartbeats. He gave it a thrust with the heels of his hands. “It's working! Keep it up!”
Mark backed out of the way. “You’re the one with the power to heal, now, Nick. I gave that to you, remember? It’s up to you.”
Nick gazed at him in startled realization, then moved into action. He leaned to press his opened lips firmly against Derek’s, blew forcibly into him. He listened for the exhale, blew into him again. The taste oddly reminded him of apricots, which brought back the doctor’s speech about ketone acidosis, a condition marginal diabetics may acquire which causes the bittersweet, fruity smell of the breath. The lips were soft and plush beneath his, yielding at his every touch. Completely rejecting anything less than success, he bore down on him, gave him more air until he was certain that breathing would continue without his assistance. Derek took a long, jagged breath, followed it with a weak grunt and a choking sound.
Nick covered his mouth again and gave him another blast of wind. Derek coughed, still weakly, moved lethargically, moaned and strangled. The gagging noises rose from deep in his chest to his throat.
For insurance, Nick gave him one final puff of air. The strangling was high in his throat now, coming into the mouth, ready to erupt. They hurried to roll him on his stomach, got a towel beneath his lips just in time to catch the blood mixture that was driven out of him.
“Derek!” Nick was rubbing his back, his arms, his shoulders, making his blood circulate, forcing his muscles, joints and dead flesh to come to life. With difficulty, Derek dragged in a deep breath, let it out, tried to clear his throat before he inhaled again.
Breathing on his own, Derek groaned in agony, then opened his eyes, gazing up at them in annoyance. “Why did you wake me up?” he mumbled.
“Because you were dead.” Nick said, his voice still shaking. He rolled him onto his back again. “You were dead, Derek. Come on. Get up. I'm not going to let that happen again. Get up and keep us company. We'll all keep each other company.” He was pitching back the covers, pulling Derek's legs to the edge, hauling him to his feet. “Come over by the fire. I know it's cold, but cold gets you awake. Get up.”
Mark did not interfere, in fact he thought it was a damn good idea to keep him awake and alert. He knew what he had to do. He had wasted enough time. It was high time to bring Penelope home.
__________________________________________________
“Where do you think you're going?” Derek demanded, barely able to hold up his head. He glared at Mark. “It's still very cold and foggy.”
“Should Nick go instead?” Mark asked, as if he had the ultimate point.
Derek glimpsed at Nick. “We shall all three go, but not today. We shall wait for the weather to clear.”
“We shall?” Mark stretched out a hand from the door. Five feet separated them. “Walk to me, Derek, come on. From Nick to me. Walk.”
“You know I can't.” Derek looked down.
“Then how will you go with us? Today or any day? You’re getting worse. I can’t let this go any longer. It has to be done and Penelope’s my responsibility.”
“Then leave me here and *both* of you go so you can watch each other's backs.”
“Somebody has to stay with you. Do you think we’re gonna leave you alone?” Derek looked tortured. “Be back in a little while.” Mark started out the door.
“Mark...” Nick had spoken. Mark stepped back in, waiting patiently for him to go on. “Be careful.”
“No problem.” He gave them his casual grin with an added wink and strolled away.
“What if she kills him?” Derek murmured.
“Mark's not just an idiot, you know.” Nick said. “He's been through a lot and he still doesn't act sad and gloomy all the time like you do. He's got heart.”
“I think of death and hell and I’m happy? That’s what you told him.”
Nick nodded knowingly. “You heard us talking last night.”
“Yes, I did. I'm not as dark and morbid as you made me sound.”
“You think you know everything.”
“No, I don't. I think I know more than you because you're young.”
“Maybe you do. But you need to listen to me, too. Especially now.”
“I do, Nick. I listen to you.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah, you do, sometimes.”
“You know I do. Everything you say is important to me.”
“Do you realize you’re wrong sometimes?”
“I realize it's possible.” Now, Derek was smiling. “But not very often.”
Nick grinned. “Truthfully, you're right. You're wrong very seldom. And there were a few times, those times when I was stubborn and angry that I should have had my ass kicked for being such an insolent brat. You were right and I was wrong and that was all there was to it.”
“There were also times when I was wrong. I remember times.”
“So do I, but let's not bring them up now. It would only make the day grayer than it already is. Let's think of something a little more cheerful to talk about.”
“Like what Mark's doing right now?”
“No, that's not cheerful.”
“Like what we'll do when this is all over and the lion's dead and I'm healed?”
“Yeah, that's a good one. We'll celebrate.”
Derek's eyes were hopeful. “I'll celebrate the rest of my life. This has been awful for me, Nick. I have found myself wishing I could just go ahead and die so it would end. I hate it.”
“You tried to die. Mark and I didn't let you.”
“I know. To keep a man alive against his will. There's something not quite religious about that. I'm not sure which rule you broke, but I'm sure I'll remember one.”
“I'll break all the rules to keep you alive. Don't you even think about dying any more because we won't let you. Is that clear?”
Derek tried to suppress a smile. “Very.” he answered. His weakness was so apparent that Nick sat down with him and wrapped his arms around him.
“How do you feel now? Better?” Nick asked hopefully.
“No, I feel simply dreadful.” Derek took a deep breath and leaned against him. “Mark should be in the Legacy.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s smart.”
“Too smart.”
“A man can be *too* smart?” Nick laughed.
“Do you really think I’m so morbid?” Derek asked.
“You’re the morbidest. Practically insane.” Nick answered teasingly. “There are many different kinds of insanity, you know that, you're the one who's always reading philosophy, theology, psychology, all that bullshit. You read it, but you don't think it pertains to your life because you think you’re above all that! *You* achieved a doctrine! Rules don't apply to you. You think you have more power because you've got this great mind.” Derek was on the verge of having his feelings hurt.
Nick continued. “I know more than you've ever given me credit for. You always sold me just a little short. I'm not complaining, because there's nothing really to complain about, but it's just a fact.”
“I'll never sell you short again.” Derek promised huskily.
Nick reached for the carbohydrate pills and a ration pack he had laid out for Derek's meal, murmuring, “Getting back to you being insane...”
“Yes, and what about that?” Derek drew back from him as if he'd just remembered he was offended about it.
“I wouldn't have you any other way.” Nick said, taking out a pill and giving it to him, following it with a swig from the water canteen. As he tore the foil off the ration pack, he went on, “Rachel and I had a talk about you one day. She said that you were insecure, that you were sometimes irrational, but that you were a genuinely decent man. She said that you had more courage than any man she had ever met. And do you know what?”
“What?”
“She was right. She was right.”
Derek swallowed a sob. “I love you, Nick.”
“I love you, too, Derek.” Nick hugged him tightly.
“I'm sorry. I've been such terrible company lately.” Derek said.
“Don’t be sorry. If this hadn't happened, would we be here like this now?” Nick consoled him, ran gentle fingers through his hair.
“Sometimes sadness has its rewards.”
Nick had to differ with him. “You love to be sad, don't you? You're content as hell sitting around brooding, mourning, summoning up all those horrible memories from years ago. Your mind is a dangerous place to go, you've got too many awful thoughts in there for me. You love it, though, don't you? You like the suffering.”
Derek shook his head. “I don't like it. How could anybody like to suffer?”
“You think that suffering gives you an edge on other people, don't you? You think that because you've had terrible experiences that you know more about everything than other people. That's the way you feel. You treat it like education. You think it makes you wise. But all it really does is make you miserable.”
With a twitch of his eyes, Derek bit into a cracker. Nick had made him think, had given him a theory to ponder. And after some time, he had to admit he wasn't altogether wrong. He cleared his throat, feeling his character had just been unveiled. “You don't have to say everything like you're the know-it-all, Nick. I suppose that what you're saying has some substance, but you don't need to get cocky about it.”
“Cock-a-doodle-doo.” Nick said softly.
Derek gave him a sidling grin. “You know what? I just got a taste for some fried chicken.”
Without missing a beat, Nick answered, “Fried foods are bad for you, remember?”
Derek turned his face to Nick’s and kissed his cheek, whispered in his ear, “You have Mark’s gift. He gave this to you?”
“Yeah, he gave it to me.” Even though it had been very minor, the kiss caused his heart to race. He wanted more.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He said he didn’t deserve it.”
“He thinks he’s going to die. He gave it to you for safekeeping.”
Nick shivered and tangled his fingers in Derek’s hair. Turning to face him, he opened his mouth, leaned forward and claimed Derek’s lips in a long, slow kiss.
Derek moaned in passion and clung to him.
To be continued...........
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