TITLE: Something Lost, Something Found.

By : Aryea

CHAPTER 13

Nigel had seen the doctor, who had agreed that they should wait until next week to remove the bandages. Nigel was not happy about it, but he figured that the doctor knew best. Preston offered to stay with him, serious about making up for the past, and Nigel relented. He couldn’t really do for himself and it was just for a few more days. He gave Nigel a fold out cane to help him feel his way around until then, but Nigel really hated using it.

            It was the third evening after their return home and Nigel lay on the sofa listening to music and recalling the last several days He had been thoroughly embarrassed for having tossed his cookies in front of Sydney at the hotel, before they caught their plane home, but as she did with everything, Sydney took it in stride. Preston had returned with their food, but Nigel had been unable to eat anything because of what Sydney had told him. Even now he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he had died, actually been dead, as in no blood flow to the brain. Didn’t people suffer brain damage from that? How long had he been dead?

            He’d tried to get more information, fill in the details about what happened, but Sydney seemed reluctant to talk about it again. Her tears had upset him far more than he let on, he just wasn’t used to that from her, and so he did not broach the subject again, in case there was a repeat performance. He didn’t begrudge her crying, he’d meant what he had said that everyone lost it now and then, but he just hated to see her so distressed and was uncertain how to comfort her. He was never very good with a crying woman, he supposed that was the Englishman in him; such displays flustered him.

            He scowled as a clanging noise resounded from somewhere in the room, probably the kitchen. Preston was finally getting around to cleaning up their dishes from breakfast, no doubt.

            “It’s okay!” Preston called out. “I’m fine! Just dropped a pot!”

            Nigel ignored him. He wouldn’t care if his entire collection of cutlery flew out of the drawer and pinned his brother to the wall in a spastic crucifixion, really. Preston seemed adamant to point out everything he was doing whenever Nigel was in the room, as if trying to make up for his brother’s blindness. It was really starting to get on Nigel’s nerves. When had his brother turned into such a mindless, twit?

            Another bang and some clatter.

            “Sorry! Me again, I’m a bit of a clod this morning, it seems.”

            “Only this morning?” Nigel muttered to himself and turned up the stereo on the remote so that Phantom of the Opera drowned out his idiot brother.

            Preston scowled when the music increased. Nigel and his bloody symphonies. Not that he didn’t like the music himself, in that he and Nigel were much alike, but it seemed the Phantom of the Opera was all Nigel would listen to lately and it was bordering on Preston’s nerves. The music was masterful and touching, but also somewhat depressing and it concerned him that Nigel was listening to it too often.

            He tossed the uneaten ham and potatoes that he had cooked for breakfast, into the trash. Nigel had hardly touched his food again, and he worried that his little brother was losing too much weight.  He knew that Nigel was having nightmares at night and had been drinking heavily, until he refused to buy him any more wine or beer. From his bed on the sofa Preston would hear his brother crying out, whimpering and more often than not, screaming for Sydney. He’d gone in the first night, trying to calm Nigel, but that just angered his little brother. Once Nigel was awake and he realized what was going on, he’d scream at Preston to get out.    

            Preston wanted to call Sydney and tell her, hoping she could get Nigel to talk to someone about his nightmares, or at least eat something. He didn’t want to betray Nigel’s trust by bringing Sydney into it, he sensed that Nigel would be even angrier if he did that, but he didn’t know anyone else that was able to get through to his brother. His conscience was niggling at him, forcing him to own up to the fact that he had originally agreed to stick around, not for Nigel’s sake, but because it would make him look better in Sydney’s eyes.

However, he kept going over their last night in Egypt and he couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind. He had come back with the food and had accidentally heard some of their conversation in the bathroom; Sydney crying about losing Nigel and Nigel trying to comfort her. Preston had entertained the idea that once Nigel was better, he could once again try to pursue Sydney, thus his choice to remain in the States awhile, but after watching the torment that his brother was going through over his blindness, his cries for Sydney in the middle of the night, and the way that Sydney always seemed to redirect any of their conversations back to Nigel, he realized that his hopes were crushed. Whether she realized it or not, Sydney was in love with Nigel and Preston had little doubt that his brother felt the same about the beautiful relic hunter.

            He’d been having mixed feelings ever since they learned that Nigel was alive. He was happy, certainly, but at the same time, the more he saw Sydney and Nigel together, the more he realized how close they were and his chance of happiness with Sydney Fox was nothing more than a pipe dream. He considered his usual tactics of misdirection and manipulation to woo Sydney away from Nigel; he’d done it several times it the past with other women, but something held him back.

This was truly the first time that he had ever seen Nigel really close to someone, so willing to give his life for them, while in the past Preston had been sure the women Nigel dated were merely a passing fancy and so easy pickings, this was different. The relationship between the American woman and his brother seemed to surpass all borders of any other relationship, they worked together, they were best friends, neither felt threatened by the other, and there seemed to be no stereotype of who was expected to do what. Their rolls reversed and interacted on a regular basis, practically unheard of, especially for a man and woman team.

The other thing that had changed his mind was when he realized how much skill and courage Nigel had developed, since working with Sydney, the likes of which staggered Preston, and the strength of which showed through when his little brother, blinded and practically defenseless, still managed to help Sydney fight and even used himself as a decoy when they were fleeing the temple. Preston couldn’t imagine having to rely on someone telling him where to walk, how far, or how many people were about to shoot him and still willing go into such a situation, he couldn’t do it with his sight, how Nigel could blind was beyond comprehension. Yet, that was how much Nigel trusted Sydney and Preston knew that no matter what he did, Sydney and he would never share that same kind of trust, that passion for adventure and self-sacrifice, that kind of love.

Having almost lost Nigel made Preston realize how much he had missed with his little brother, because of his own impetuousness. He knew that Nigel had never had any really close friends, had never had anyone he could count on, not even his own brother, and now, knowing that he could take that security away from Nigel, as he had with the museum job and so many other things, Preston realized that he wouldn’t. Nigel deserved to be happy and obviously Sydney Fox made him happy. Fate had thrust them together and Preston could not stand in the way of something so divine.

There was still a lot of resentment between them; their years apart could not be so easily erased, although both were trying harder to get along. Nigel was going stir crazy and was probably a lot more worried about his condition than he was letting on. Preston didn’t think Nigel was ready to redevelop their relationship, he had too much else on his plate. And so, he’d called Sydney and told her that he was flying back to England, he felt it best for Nigel to be under less stress and whether he meant to or not, Preston’s presence was causing stress in Nigel’s life.

            Sydney had sounded sorry that he was leaving, but she promised to look after Nigel and keep the older Bailey informed. She was on her way over now, although Preston still hadn’t told Nigel. He was going to a hotel for the remainder of the night, because his flight to Heathrow was very early the next morning. He tossed the towel on the counter and walked over to Nigel, who was stretched out on the sofa, listening to The Phantom of the Opera on his stereo.

            “Hey, Podge.” He tapped Nigel’s foot.

            “What?” Nigel replied pulling his feet up so Preston could sit down and turning down the music again. “And don’t call me Podge.”

            “Nigel then. Listen, old man, I’ve…I’ve got to get back to London, but if you want me to stay I’ll…”

            “No, that’s fine, Preston.” Nigel returned quietly-he almost sounded relieved and Preston knew he had done the right thing; Nigel still needed time. “You’re busy; I appreciate you staying this long, really.”

            “Yes, well, you are my brother-I could hardly leave you stranded.”

            “Hmmm.”

            “So, anyway, I fly out really early tomorrow, so I am grabbing a hotel by the airport.”

            Nigel nodded. “Okay.”

            Preston stared at him. It was so hard to tell what Nigel was thinking with his eyes bandaged, they were the windows to his soul, really. “I…well I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, Nigel.”

            “I don’t. I understand, Preston. Really, I promise you.”

            Preston sighed, relieved and stood up. “Well, I’ve asked Syd to come by; she’ll stay with you until…”

            “I don’t need anyone here, Preston-I’ll be fine.”

            “Nigel, you can’t see, you need someone to help you…”

            “Maybe it’s time I got used to being blind then!” Nigel snapped, and then just as quickly his anger faded and his tone became quiet again. “I don’t want Sydney hovering anymore than I want you to. You’re both busy and have better things to do.”

            “Well, I’m sorry, but we both disagree, right now, you’re more important to both Sydney and I, Nigel, so you may as well deal with it because she’ll be here any minute.”

            “You had no right telling her to come, Preston!”

            “Of course I do, I’m your older brother; I look out for you.”

            “Since when?” Nigel dipped his head. He couldn’t seem to control his anger lately; he was never this rude, not even to Preston. He wasn’t sleeping well, that had to be the reason. “I…I didn’t mean that. I…I’d just prefer to be alone, Preston. Please, let me be?”

            “Nigel, I…I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t leave unless I’m sure you’re being looked after. It’s only for another day and the bandages come off Tuesday, right? You won’t need any help then.”

            Nigel was silent, neither denying nor confirming Preston’s belief.

            “Nigel, listen. I know this probably isn’t the time, but…well, I want you to know…” Preston rose, all of a sudden nervous; this was much harder than it should be. They were both adults, why couldn’t they just accept their past mistakes and move on. “Po…Nigel,” he corrected. “Why…why do you hate me so much?”

            Nigel’s head darted upwards, startled. “Hate? I don’t hate you, Preston.”

            “You said you don’t trust me.”

            “I never said that I hated you.”

            Preston was relieved to hear that at least, despite being aware of the fact that Nigel did not contradict the part about trusting him. “You do hate certain things about me, though. Right?”

            Nigel lowered his head again.

            “Nige, com’on, let’s get this out in the open and be done with it.”

            “I don’t know what you want me to say, Preston.”

            “Okay, fine, I’ll go first then. I…I admit that I have been…jealous of you for most of your life.”

            “Of me? Why?” Nigel actually seemed surprised.

            “Well, because of the way mum and dad fussed over you and…and the fact that you were so damn good at everything.”

            Nigel smirked and shook his head. “Yeah right, that’s me, Mr. Perfect. Ask Sydney, Preston, she’ll tell you all the things I’m awful at, or Claudia, she’s an expert on how big I suck.” His smirk filtered into a sad smile. “God, I miss her sometimes. Karen’s nice and all, but Claudia was… well…unique.”

            Preston smiled and settled on the sofa again, tentatively; this was a good start. “Nigel, I…maybe I don’t know you…scratch that, I know that I don’t know you as well as those ladies do, but…did you ever think that’s because you never let me get to know you?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, whenever we’re together we’re always fighting; you’ve got a wall up around you and won’t let me in, you always have done that, like you’re trying to prove that you don’t need me or my interference, my guidance, like you’re above me.”

            “I don’t!” Nigel insisted, aghast. Was that what Preston really thought, he couldn’t be further from the truth.

            “You went almost three years without even speaking to me, before I contacted Sydney about Elizabeth’s ring, Nigel,” Preston reminded. “What do you call that?”

            “Survival!” Nigel snapped and this time wasn’t sorry for it; if Preston finally wanted to hear the truth, than by God he would; all of it. “Everything I’ve ever had you’ve stolen from me, Preston. The job at the museum was the last straw. Why would I want to be around you; why would I put you in a position to betray me again?”

            Preston couldn’t deny that. “We’re still brothers, Nigel; you should have kept in touch. I had to find out that you were working for Sydney Fox from a newspaper article, for Christ’s sake.”

            Nigel almost smiled. “Really? What did the article say?”

            “It was…” Preston waved his hand, agitated. “Never mind that! Why didn’t you tell me you were working for her? You never even told me you had gone to America for God’s sake!”

            ‘I didn’t think it would matter to you, you were so busy with your new job and everything.”

            “Nigel! What if something happened? How would I have known how to get hold of you?”

            Nigel shrugged. “Several people knew where I was, Preston. If something happened, one of them would have contacted me.”

            “You tell everyone else and not me? Why?”

            Nigel was getting angrier. “Why do you think, you pompous ass? What possible reason could there be, you narcissistic ninny? I didn’t tell you because I knew, I just knew that if I told you I had been accepted for a job in America, working with one of the most renown Ancient Studies professors in the field that you would have caught the first plane over and tried to oust me from my position!”

            Preston rose and shoved his hands into his pockets, as he felt a twinge of guilt, for in reality, that had been his reaction when he first found out about Nigel’s new job. He’d been horribly envious, especially after he had seen a picture of Sydney Fox in that article he’d read, and he had immediately started thinking of ways to get Nigel’s job. He could just imagine the prestige and the envy of everyone he knew if he became a relic hunter.

            But he couldn’t just fly to the States, the museum kept him busy, as well as all his other interests, and when he finally came across a reason to bring his brother to London, he’d learned that there was much more to being a relic hunter than glamour and recognition; he’d realized that Nigel worked hard and was often in real danger while hunting those relics. By the time they had returned to help him find the vile, he recognized the change in Nigel, the hidden strength and new courage that being Sydney’s assistant had given his little brother; and Preston envied him that.

            “I…” He could lie and pretend that was never his intention, but lying to his brother while he was blind was too low, even for Preston. “You’re right, Nigel. I would have, and I…I’m very sorry for ever having considered it.”

            Nigel was stunned silent, he never expected Preston to admit to his treachery.

            “I’ll admit that I haven’t been a very good brother,” Preston continued. “But neither have you been, Nigel.”

            “Me? What the hell have I ever done to you?”

            “You…you never confided in me, you never…” Preston rose and tossed his hands up. “Everything I learned about you was from Mum and Dad, and when they…died, you just…closed yourself off.”

            “Because you shipped me off to boarding school! What did you think would happen, did you think I’d be happy to be sent away?”

            “That isn’t fair, Nige, I never wanted to send you away, but grandfather said it would be best. They didn’t think I could take care of you so…you were sent to school. I thought it would be fun for you, I loved boarding school when I was your age.”

            “It was a hideous place, Preston! I was lucky to survive it and I swear by all that I own that I shall never, ever send my kids away to one!”

            Preston was startled. “I…I didn’t know it would be so bad, I never knew you had a hard time, Nigel. You would never talk about it.”

            “Talk about it to whom, Preston? Grandfather didn’t care, he wanted me out from underfoot and you were so busy kissing up to him that you wouldn’t have cared either!”

            “That isn’t true!”

             The intercom buzzer sounded and both men looked toward it, even though Nigel couldn’t see it. “Don’t answer it!” Nigel insisted, he was in no shape or mood for visitors now.

            “Don’t be an idiot!” Preston snapped, his own anger far from settled, as he walked over and forced himself to sound pleasant as he pressed the talk button. “Yes?”

            “It’s us!” Karen and Sydney called.

Nigel became more distressed again. “Preston, please, tell her you changed your mind. Tell her I don’t need her to stay!”

             Preston scowled. “Why? I thought you and Syd were close, she has more right to be here than I do, she’s your good friend, right?” Nigel was silent as the buzzer rang again. “Why don’t you want Sydney here, Nigel?”

 Nigel shook his head, unable to reply.

            Preston snorted and said into the intercom. “Come on up, ladies!” He released the lock for the lobby door and watched as Nigel started to rise from the sofa. “Where do you think you’re going?”

            “To lie down, I’m tired.”

            “You’re always tired,” Preston retorted. “I don’t care what kind of mood you’re in, but I will not allow you to be rude to your company, Nigel.”

            Nigel spun toward Preston, and gripped the back of the sofa to catch himself. “Who the hell are you to tell me how to behave you arrogant pratt?”

“I’m you’re older brother and whether you like it or not, you owe me your respect!”

“Owe?” Nigel fairly screamed at him. “There are many things I owe you Preston, but not one of them comes even close to my respect!”

A knock on the door prevented Preston from making a stinging reply, and he quickly opened it, grateful for the distraction. “He’s in a mood ladies, be warned.”

            “He’ll be happy to see me,” Karen assured, putting on a bright face and pretending that she and Sydney had not heard the brother’s arguing from outside. “I’ve brought his favorite pizza for lunch.”

            Nigel could smell her perfume even before she reached him, as well as the meat lover’s pizza she brought with her.

            “Hiya, handsome,” she purred, folding her arms around him and squeezing him tight “Ooooohh, I missed you.” She ruffled his hair and pressed her body against his. “Not to worry, Nigel, I’ll let you feel your way all you want.”

            Nigel flushed, hugged her quickly, and then stepped back.

            “Stop scaring him, Karen,” Sydney laughed moving into the living room with Preston. “How are you feeling, Nigel.”

            “Fine.”

            “Then what’s this about being in a mood?”

            Nigel shrugged and allowed Karen to lead him back to the sofa. She set the pizza on the coffee table and settled beside him.

            “You’re so lucky you don’t have to be at the university-exam week is nuts. All the students are stressing out, they can’t remember what they’re doing…it’s crazy.”

            “Worse than it was last year, Nigel-what a headache.” Sydney agreed as she set the six pack of soda on the coffee table next to the pizza and discretely dropped her overnight bag by one of the chairs. Preston hadn’t been exaggerating; Nigel did appear to be in a state. Although, he managed to stay clean shaven, Sydney could tell immediately by the loose fit of his clothes that he had indeed lost weight and his face appeared haggard and drawn.

            Nigel didn’t say anything-he’d give anything to be among mid-term chaos at the University.

            “Where are your plates, Nigel,” Karen asked to break the sudden silence, as she rose from the sofa. “I’ll dish out the pizza.”

            “In the cupboard over the stove, but I’m not very hungry, Karen.”

            “You hardly touched your breakfast, Nigel,” Preston reminded.

            “Perhaps, I just don’t care for your cooking, Preston.”

            Preston bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with my cooking! I’m a very good cook!”

            “If you say so.”

            Sydney touched Preston’s arm and shook her head, she knew what Nigel was doing. “Anyway, have a piece of pizza, Nigel. We know you like that.”

            Nigel rose suddenly. “No thanks. You can have my share.”

            “Nigel!” Sydney exclaimed, surprised at her assistant’s rudeness. Nigel was never rude.

            Nigel ignored her and walked back to his room and closed the door.

            Preston growled in annoyance. “You see? Do you see what I’ve had to put up with? A Saint couldn’t talk with that…that…Argggg! I haven’t even the breath to insult him anymore!”

            Karen giggled and quickly smothered it when Sydney shot her a warning look.

            “Well, he’s been through a lot, Preston. You have to give him time; just don’t give up, okay?”

            Preston dropped down onto the sofa. “I am trying, Sydney. Truly I am, but he hasn’t given an inch!”

 

Continue to chapter 14