If I fell

((Continued from - Can't drive 55 ))

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start
That you would love me more than her
- The Beatles

Ellis wiped the water off her face as she carried Simon up the juniper filled hill toward the Cape Cod house sitting back in the trees. She had forgotten about this place - what did Marthinus call it...Juniper Hill, she seemed to recall. The sweet smelling flowers were fragrant, even with the sea breeze blowing in from the Marina.

They had plunged into the marina, car and all. At over one hundred miles an hour, the car had turned into a squished soda can, shattering the front windshield and crumpling in the hood. Trails of blood dripped from her dangling hand as Ellis reached the front porch. It had been painful but tolerable and the cuts from the broken glass were already starting to heal. Still, she was exhausted and Simon was grunting softly on her shoulder as she opened the screen door.

'What's the code?'


Ellis stood looking at the door handle, blood pooling on the ground beneath her. If she broke the lock, a silent alarm would undoubtedly go off. Probably not a bad thing, it would just bring the Mercs. Ellis grabbed the handle and broke the door in with a single shove. She looked around for an alarm panel but found none. '
Meh,' she mumbled. It was more than likely hidden in the wall nearby. She ignored it and moved on.

She kept the house dark, moving effortlessly through the empty house. Stepping down into the sunken living room, she contemplated lowering Simon down on the couch but noticed the stairs through the kitchen entry way. Poking her head in the kitchen, she readjusted Simon on her shoulder and moved through it, to the flight of stairs on the other end of the large section. She slowly took the steps up, running her bloodied hand up the railing.

'Alrighty.' She crossed the hallway and pushed open the closest bedroom door. It opened up into the loft master bedroom - french doors leading to a patio, king sized bed and picture frames on the end tables. It was all very much lived in, much to her surprise. Ellis stood for a moment, her eyesbrows furrowed together. It all had a very familiar feeling and scent. Walking slowly over to the bed, she lowered Simon down. His arm slid off the side and she reached down, taking it and laying it across his chest. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she looked at the night table.

Ellis picked up the silver frame and looked at the picture. Drops of water fell on the glass and with her thumb she wiped it off the surface. It was a picture of Carol and Simon - the blond sitting in his lap, Carol's arm stretched out, holding the camera and Simon half smiling in the shadows of a half lit room. Ellis looked around, comparing the photo to the room and her eye caught the love seat in the corner behind her, next to the door.

She set the picture frame back down.

Looking at Simon she felt what only could be described as regret. With a large sigh she rolled him over and took his jacket off. Her finger caught the metal edge of one of the darts, nicking it slightly. She slipped off his button up and threw it on the ground in a wet heap. Turning him over onto his stomach, she surveyed the damage.

Two darts were sticking out of his back; his lower back and just below his right arm pit. With her fingernails she tried to take out the lower back dart, only to be rewarded with more cuts.

'Ok, let's get something to get those little fuckers out.'

Ellis walked down to the kitchen again, pulling open drawers. 'Where does one keep pliers, I wonder?' She talked out loud to herself, trying not to think about the picture frame upstairs. She wasn't jealous. It didn't matter. She would get the darts out, let the Mercs come and take him and be on her way. Opening another drawer she found assorted tools and plucked out a pair of pliers. Turning over the tool in her hand, she considered what had just transpired that night.

'You know I've bitten you before and I don't recall you ever having nightmares about it.'

Ellis smiled, remembering the softness of his humor, a rare occasion it was when he joked at all. Looking up her eyes fell on the magnetic butcher knife strip. She pulled a small paring knife off the end and twirled it in her hand as she looked back toward the stairs.

Simon Huntington 15 years ago
Soft. Mmphf.

Grunting half-heartedly into something soft, Simon tried to stand. His head began to throb in such epic proportions that he felt his stomach lurch, threatening to explode. Instead his mouth filled up with salty water, effectively choking him. Salt water?

His mind reeled as he tried to open his eyes, but his lids were just too heavy. A garbled noise penetrated his head, forcing his eyes to shut further. He could barely make out the words and he did not recognized the muffled voice.

Simon relaxed back onto the softness and tried not to throw up.
Ellis Duban 15 years ago
'This is gonna hurt a little.'

Ellis watched Simon struggle to move on the bed as she twirled the paring knife in her right hand, pliers in her left. He seemed to give up after a few moments and his body went limp again on the bed. Walking over she grabbed a mint jar, emptying it on the floor carelessly and let a smile tug at her mouth as she looked at the darts in his back. Setting the bowl on the bed next to him, Ellis settled down and poised the knife over his back.

They were both banged up enough that his skin had become less resilient so Ellis cut into the flesh with the parring knife in an attempt to dig out the darts. Simon began to grunt softly at the pain.

'At ease,' Ellis murmured as she dug out the first dart. She cut the skin around the dart and with the pliers grabbed the tip and pulled it. It moved a half inch and then the pliers lost their hold.

'What the...?'

She clamped down again on the dart and this time tightly pulled back, successfully pulling it out along with some of his flesh.

'Oops, sorry about that.' She let the dart drop into the bowl next to him. Picking up the knife again she dug out the other dart and used the pliers to pull it out.

Examining the second one she realized what made these darts more than just a little annoying. They had reverse barbs on the tip, making it difficult to pull out the dart once it was inserted. Standing she walked over to the french doors and opened the curtain covering them to let in a little of the moon light to look at the dart closer. The moonlight gleamed off the metal and she looked at the mechanism closely, admiring it.

'Sneaky fuckers.'

Lowering the pliers she looked through the french door window panes and saw the garden beyond. Opening the french doors she inhaled deeply, smelling the junipers again and got a clear view of the garden below. It was breath taking and at the same time something inside her felt broken with realization.

This is where he took Carol to be alone.
Simon Huntington 15 years ago
The pain in his back was excruciating. His body tensed as someone ripped something out of his back. The pain lingered for a few moments and then stopped only to begin again. The second time his eyes opened, trying desperately to focus on anything in front of him and he recognized the soft scent coming from the soft thing he was laying on.

The sharp pain was finally gone and left in its place was a dull throb that matched his noticeably aching head. Simon shook his head slowly, forcing himself to wake up as he brought his hand up by his chest and planted it on...a bed? Lifting his head slowly he tried to focus on the bed he was laying on and recognized the soft linen sheets immediately. They were white with purple tulip trim - Carol's favorite.

Oh god, his mind whimpered and he put his face back down on the pillow.

There was movement to the right of him as he regained enough strength to push himself onto his back. His eyelids refused to cooperate, feeling fat and heavy. Simon tried to focus in on the figure in front of him. In the midst of that battle he lifted his hands and touched his head and discovered his hair was wet. Feeling down with his hands, he pulled at his chest, realizing his shirt was off and that he was completely...soaked?

With a low grumble Simon asked out loud to no one in particular,
'Why am I wet?'
Ellis Duban 15 years ago
Ellis dropped the pliers and dart on a table next to the french doors as Simon stirred restlessly on the bed. Checking her watch she noted the time; it had taken a good hour for the double dose of whatever was in those darts to start to wear off. An hour or a minute, anytime they were immobilized like that made them completely vulnerable.

Circling the bed she sat back down on Simon's right side, watching him slowly figure out what had happened. She couldn't help but grin at his helplessness.

'Yeah...that's a...long story.'
Simon Huntington 15 years ago
'I can't focus...my eyes.'

Simon's eyes rolled painfully back every time he tried to open them. All he could do was move his arms and rub his face with his hands. He had never felt so tired before. Fighting the thick blanket of sleep was seeping away any strength he was regaining, so he just dropped his hands to the side again, letting it take him. A question kept rising to the surface, something he could only barely recall. The events of the past hour were a blank and before that nothing - save for parking his car downtown. Thoughts of clarity came in waves - one moment he felt closer to the ever rising current of sleep, the next he was drowning in it again.

He was in the house in the marina, that much he could deduce. Someone was with him. Taking care of him. Someone with soft hands touching his face. He turned toward it, inhaling the scent deeply. It was familiar, warm and so soft.
Ellis Duban 15 years ago
Ellis sat on the bed with her back to him. She watched him from over her shoulder, groggy and painfully handsome with his shirt off and hair sticking up every where. He was as young as the day she met him. Her eyes traveled down from his hooded eyes, strong nose and long neck. His chest had a dusting of hair just below his collar bones and just below his nipples. Despite ridiculous human fantasies of vampires, his skin was not flawless. His first life was a harsh one - the sixth century left little to be desired and lacked comfort for the lower class. Simon was nothing but a poor constable and the scars on his arms and chest were testimony to it. His hands were large, strong but callused and she remembered every ridge, every line of them.

Reaching out Ellis touched his face, the back of her hand dragging across the stubble of his chin. He turned into it, his hand reaching up and grabbing hers. Part of her wanted to pull away immediately - she had always been that way with him. They each had different definitions of physical touch and hers was shallow and selfish, but when he touched her...Ellis felt her eyes blur with the heaviness of tears.

'You asked me something.' Leaning over him, she whispered quietly. 'I'm not even sure if you can hear me, but if you ever deserved anything from me, Simon, the truth would be it.'

His eyes stopped trying to open and while still holding her hand he turned his face into it and sighed sleepily.

'You asked me why would, after everything that's happened...after you made whatever decisions you made,' she corrected herself, '...you had to make, after you took everything that might have meant anything to me away, why would I help you not once, but twice.' She stopped and smiled holding up her free hand, three fingers to his unseeing face, 'Well that's three you owe me now, junior.

'Why would I help you after you tried to kill me?'

Ellis' face curled up in confusion and she mouthed, "Wait - why would I?" She pulled away, looking down at her hands in front of her..

'Well...that's a pretty good question if you think about it. Why would I help you? Historically, you should be separated into a thousand pieces and buried all over the world. I mean...didn't we do that once to someone? I'm constantly asking myself why. But really, what you should be asking yourself here is...why do you care?'

Ellis looked back at him and was quite surprised to be seeing him looking back at her.
Simon Huntington 15 years ago
He'd recognize that hand anywhere and when the sound of her voice finally filtered in from the hazy fog, a cold realization settled over him and he remembered.

They were in the sewer discussing business, at least that's what he kept telling himself as he drove to meet her. It wasn't because he had been thinking of her or that he wanted to see her. Being close to her always had an affect on him - whether she was being cold or dismissive it still triggered something in him that reminded him of how she used to be. Her playfulness, the softness of her touch - how nothing mattered but him, right at that moment.

'Well...that's a pretty good question if you think about it. Why would I help you? Historically, you should be separated into a thousand pieces and buried all over the world. I mean...didn't we do that once to someone? I'm constantly asking myself why. But really, what you should be asking yourself here is...why do you care?'

His sense of worth was always tied in with how he could serve her. When that constant changed in his life, it shattered everything in him, making what he did that much easier. Looking at her now, with the trace of regret in her voice it was almost as if she understood that he had no other choice. He had finally confronted her, demanding to know what she wanted - whether it was all an act, a prelude to something diabolical to come or if she had changed. Then...

Simon reached behind and touched the tender spot on his back. Something had struck him in the back and then there was nothing. Shrugging he leaned back, putting his arms behind his head.

'What makes you think I do still care?'

The obvious answer to her question would be to say that he didn't. Was it the truth? Probably not, but at that moment, he was lost in the innocence of her face. Her hair was wet, jacket was soggy and her makeup wiped away. She was as beautiful as ever.

Simon leaned forward slowly and repositioned himself on the bed, resting back against the headboard after fluffing the wet pillows.

'The truth is - I'm just curious.' Simon shrugged. 'I don't know who you are anymore, to be honest.'

Her transition from exciting new lover to blood thirsty vampire and eventually to power hungry psycho had been so seamless that the progression was so natural. The one personality trait that Ellis had always lacked was remorse and he had seen more of it from her in the past two years than in the thousand plus he had know her. But he'd let her wonder where she stood in his life, if at all. Let her feel what he went through for so long.

Simon moved his legs off the bed and took a wobbly step as he rose to his feet. He steadied himself on the night table and his hand brushed up against the picture frame of him and Carol. Knocking it over he reached for it, sending it crashing to the floor breaking the glass. Without looking at Ellis he picked it up and slammed it back on the table.

'I take it back - I do know you. This, this...show of remorse and regret is just that.' He angrily reached for his wet shirt on the floor and snatched it up. 'It's BULLSHIT. When have you EVER been sorry for being the person you are. For being so fucking selfish.'

Simon pulled on the wet shirt as his voice grew louder until he realized that the shirt was a total loss. He then ripped it off, throwing it back on the ground.

'You'll never change, Ellis. This is who you are - you may have felt something for me in the beginning but that part of you is long gone.'

He stormed off to a wardrobe and threw open a door, almost ripping it off its hinges. Grabbing a shirt off a hanger, he caused an avalanche of clothes to the ground. And then he stopped. Taking the shirt in his hand he undid the buttons with his back to her and quietly finished his tirade.

'I don't care, E. I used to, very much so, but not anymore. I waited hundreds of years for you to love me back the way I loved you, but I don't have to wait anymore.'

Simon slipped on the shirt and finished buttoning it before he added with his voice just above a whisper, 'I don't need you anymore.'

Then he felt small fingers on his shoulder, turning him and as he struggled with his shirt, he looked into Ellis' tear stained face as she reached up and touched his face.
Ellis Duban 15 years ago
Ellis jumped when he slammed the picture frame down on the nightstand. His (and her) reaction was unexpected, to say the least. She lowered her eyes as Simon began slamming furniture, venting his rage about the coldness she had tainted her life. Hers and others around her. His words cut her deep.

'You'll never change, Ellis. This is who you are - you may have felt something for me in the beginning but that part of you is long gone.'

Ellis winced, shutting her eyes to prevent the tears welling up in them from spilling. When she opened them again her gaze fell on the shattered glass of the picture frame. Her eyes flicked up and with a pain she had never felt before, looked at the picture of a man so relaxed, so happy, so...in love.

'I don't care, E. I used to, very much so, but not anymore. I waited hundreds of years for you to love me back the way I loved you, but I don't have to wait anymore.'

Panic rose up into her throat as the deep seeded pain in her gut threatened to choke her. It wasn't suppose to be like this. Her life. Her death. Her return and ultimately her revenge. The path she walked wasn't by choice as a young woman. She was nothing but personal property and to survive meant to be cunning, ruthless and above all, living without regret. But now - this day, this very moment Ellis was tasting regret for the first time. True, untainted regret.

And it was bitter.

'I don't need you anymore.'

Ellis looked at the back of Simon's head as he hung it low. Without knowing it she had stood and walked up to him, touching him softly, wanting to so badly have him take those words back.

'I don't need you anymore.'

It rang in her ears.

He turned to face her as she touched his softly stubbled face. The raw emotion in his eyes read shock and the bitterest of resentment. She knew then that there was nothing she could say to him now to make him believe what she was going to say next.

'Simon, I...,' the words were thick in her mouth and were salty with her tears. She touched his face, running her thumbs over his cheek bones and dragging them down to his lips.

'I'm so...sorry.'

His reaction to those three little words were sharp, quick and painful. Simon grabbed her wrists painfully, squeezing them so tight that her fingers nearly turned white. It must have been a long time he had felt such hate toward her. Hate mixed in with adoring obsession. Ellis' eyes opened wide at the sudden pain and a sob rose up in her chest as he backed her up and pushed her back on the bed.
Simon Huntington 15 years ago
Simon threw her back on the bed with such force that it moved several feet away from the wall. He stood over her, hands balled up into fists, sneering down at her.

'You're sorry?' He asked quietly, clenching his fists tightly. 'You're...sorry, was it?' Then he roared at her, yelling at the top of his lungs.

'YOU'RE SORRY, ELLIS? After all these years...HUNDREDS OF YEARS ELLIS. OVER A THOUSAND...you say you're sorry and that's suppose to make it all better?'

He had never been so angry in his life. There she was, disheveled and cowering, the exact opposite of how he had ever known her. She had turned his life upside down, inside out and from one end of hell to the other but now...now she was sorry?

'It's a little fucking late for that.'

Something flickered in his mind just then, like someone had brushed up against his neck and his eyes looked over at the door, as did Ellis' and then they looked back at each other. The mercs had arrived, but it didn't matter.

'Yes, a little late,' he mumbled. He took a step away from her and nodded over to the door. The conversation was done. Ellis slowly slipped off the bed and stood in front of him, her mouth poised to say something but he just looked down at her, his eyes hooded and dark.

He was done.

'Just go.'

Ellis dropped her eyes and turned away, heading for the door. Simon looked down at his shirt and sighed at the buttons.


Looking back up at Ellis he saw her expression had changed from drained and tired to startled again. She took two steps back toward him with an odd expression.

'What, Ellis?'

She reached out and grabbed his arms and then her legs buckled. Crumbling to a heap on the floor he reached out to grab her when he looked up passed her, just in time to see another dart hit him square in the chest. The world began to spin again like in the tunnel and stumbling toward the door, he got a final look at the assailant - a rather thick neck individual with a very twisted smile on his face.

Then there was nothing.
The Pipers 15 years ago
They were gone. Again.

Michaels fumed behind the wheel of the Piper's SUV. They had blocked Duban's path, forcing her into the water and still...they lost her. The LT had recalled all the Pipers back to the Den. Regroup and debrief. Fine, fine...still, he had not started the vehicle to return.

'Let's go, Michaels.'

They had circled the Marina as quietly as possible, avoiding the police by going on foot, checking for anything out of the ordinary but still keeping in contact, monitoring the police bands. Michaels gripped the steering wheel, grinding his teeth and was about to put the SUV in drive and head back when one of the police radios squawked loudly. All the Pipers in the SUV turned and listened.

'This is Dispatch, any units in the area - Juniper Hill district 5. Possible 459S (Burglar alarm, silent)'

Michaels snapped his fingers and pointed to the smaller Piper with the dusting of freckles across his nose that was manning the radio.

'Copy, Dispatch, 91 in patrol, 10-23 (stand by).' The Piper's green eyes flicked toward the second in command who grimaced and then nodded. 'En route, 10-4 (messaged received, understood).' With a noticeable glare, the green eyed Piper clicked off the radio and put his earphones back on.

Michaels put the SUV in drive and smiled.
The Pipers 15 years ago
There were only four Pipers but they were armed with the high powered dart guns and had stealth on their side. They circled the house on Juniper Hill and then silently dispersed to gain entry into the old Cape Cod style home. Michaels took the front and advanced quietly in human form, making almost no sound as he stepped quietly onto the property. The night was dark and windy providing no light to move by but also no light to be seen with. In the distance the rumbling of a lightning storm lit up the horizon briefly.

Moving onto the porch Michael's sense of smell twanged in recognition of a lingering smell. Looking down he saw the pool of blood and the broken lock on the door. In radio silence he clicked the command to enter but with caution.

They entered quietly, moving in the shadows of the home with their wolf eyes searching for any movement and relying on their sense of smell to find the pair which Michaels immediately recognized from over the half wall of the loft bedroom on the second floor. The Pipers moved through the house into the kitchen, their black tread combat boots making zero noise. Michaels motioned for two of the Pipers to head out and cover the balcony over looking the garden in the back and he took a silent step up the stairs.

'YOU'RE SORRY, ELLIS? After all these years...HUNDREDS OF YEARS ELLIS. OVER A THOUSAND...you say you're sorry and that's suppose to make it all better?'

Michaels crouched with the other Piper bringing up the rear behind him. He took another step up.

'It's a little fucking late for that.'

The couple were fighting....again. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, he dared himself and took three stair steps in a single movement.

'Just go.'

In the shadow of the stairs Michaels eyes peered over the top of the landing and into the open bedroom door. They were standing, looking at each other when the woman turned and headed for the door frame.

It was like shooting fucking fish in a barrel.



'What, Ellis?'

Michaels hit the woman in the shoulder with a dart and she crumbled to the floor in front of the man. The Pipers outside near the balcony burst through the french doors, shattering the glass as the Piper behind Michaels shot the male dead center in the chest.

With a smug smile Michaels advanced into the room and stood over the two vampires. In the month he had been in Nachton he had managed to do what the Pack could not do in hundreds of years. They were going to be pleased to hear of Michael's success. They had waited so long to capture the two.

Michael lowered his gun and knelt down next to Ellis Duban and brushed the hair out of her eyes. He grabbed her mouth roughly and pushed back her lips, exposing the fangs.

It wouldn't hurt the Commander and the Beta to wait a little longer.

((OOC - Ellis, Simon and the Pipers are out. Continued in the Park and Nature Preserve - Barrel of a Gun))