Mon. Nov. 28
It's cold and foggy tonight. The fog horn blows every minute. I hear that damned buoy clang like a funeral bell. It's OK here in the boathouse. I have my sleeping bag, a pillow, a heater and a hot plate, a good light bulb. The beers stay cold at the end of their line off the pier. What more can a guy want?
Frances brought her forensics results by this afternoon. She tried to tell me about them, but I couldn't focus well enough to listen. I still can't focus. They'll have to wait a few days. I had just read Derek's letter when she arrived. I'm afraid I wasn't a very good host. When she told me about the fire in her lab, I told her to back off. Just drop it, and I wasn't very polite about it. I'll have to send her roses or something.
Oh, God, that letter. I can't even begin to come up with the words. I think it's made it all worse. Dad's letter's gone with the house, but I have Derek's. It's under my pillow. He wrote that God gave me a gift when He granted my father and me peace. God gave me an even greater gift when he gave me Derek's friendship.
I shouldn't have fallen for his damn trick. I should have stayed. I knew him well enough to guess what he was planning. He'd always go it alone when the stakes got too high. Hell, I fought taking the ring. I didn't want to hear what he had to say. He was trying to say good-bye. He knew. I knew, but I didn't have the guts to face it. Maybe if I'd have stayed, we'd have found another way, but I was hiding behind the idea that it was just another case. I was just trying to get through it - with blinders on. Please God, let him know how I felt about him. Derek, wherever you are, thank you for caring about me, putting up with all my shit, trusting me, and respecting me. I think maybe you're the first person who ever really did. I think maybe that's what love really is, or should be.
I haven't had a night without that dream - him & me in the portal chamber. He puts the ring in my hand and folds my fingers over it. "I knew this day would come," he said, "until this day is won or lost." I told him I didn't sign on to lose, but we did lose. Oh, we won the day, maybe even the millennium, but we lost the Legacy's greatest champion. How can that be called anything but a Pyrrhic victory? Satan has removed his greatest opponent from the field - or captured him.
Derek was the strongest, most dedicated man I've ever known. IMHO neither Sloan nor my Dad nor Richter could hold a candle. It terrifies me to think that he might have lost his battle. Yes, the explosives blew with the desired effect, but what of Derek's soul. Was it lost? Did he surrender & only the timer save us all?
The only time I ever saw him lose was when he was unable to resist or free himself of the demon that seemed to be Winston Rayne. That was Derek's weakness, the chink in his armor, and the Darkside knew it and used it. I think he feared that the demon was in some way his father. Part of me says no - that he couldn't possibly seriously believe that. It says that Derek never doubted his cause or himself, but I know better. What really scares me is that he might have been right. Perhaps Winston turned, or was "absorbed" - something - and Derek felt it. Sloan feared the same. I could see it in his eyes as he lured the demon into himself, then stepped into the circle. I knew that Sloan was sacrificing himself for us all, but, at that moment, I understood that in his heart he was doing it for Derek.
What if Derek succumbed again? I can't bear the thought of Derek Rayne being lost to Hell. If he was lost, what hope do any of us have. If Derek couldn't stand, how can I? It scares the shit out of me to think what a weapon the Darkside would have in him - not an enemy I ever want to face - a weapon truly capable of destroying the Legacy.
I'll do as he asked. I'll call Philip again. I'll make him talk to me, even if I have to fly back there & punch his teeth down his throat. Derek gave me his ring. It means that I have to pull us all together, and that I have to grow up. Even if the others don't stay, even if the team falls apart, I'll be there for them. I'll draw from the strength that Derek left in this ring. It will be my talisman. I can't put it on yet - one day - but I'll wear it around my neck for now.
I can't write anymore - not now. I can't think anymore. I guess I'll try to sleep and have that dream again. I need to find out more about those battles. He didn't mention them for no reason. But I don't have a computer to run to or a library with a history book. And I'm not ready to brown-nose those London bastards yet. So far I've had to kick two psychiatrists out, along with a priest, a minister, and a rabbi. Wonder who it will be next.
I'll call Alex in the morning. See how she's doing. Maybe she'll come over and bring me a laptop. I imagine he sent everyone else letters too. I hope the others have fared better than I have - but I hear that damned Dutch accent reading that letter in my mind.
God help me find my way, and, please, take care of Derek - he deserves your mercy
and your love more than anyone I've ever known - he tried so hard - and let him
know what he meant to me - what he'll always mean to me.
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