Disclaimers:  Poltergeist the Legacy concept and characters belong to Trilogy et al.  Original characters belong to the author.  No copyright infringement is meant.
Spoilers:  Late Fourth Season and Series Finale.                                       Rating:  PG-14.
Suggested Reading:  Introduction to  Mysterious Ways (and its character backgrounds).

A New Beginning

© 1999, Debra Taylor

It had seemed like a good idea at the time . . . testing his son.  But almost everything he had thought was a good idea ended up blowing up in his face.  In this case, literally.  Winston Rayne had agreed not to interfere while the demon pretended to be him.

But never, in his wildest dreams, had Winston actually believed that Derek would blow up the House where he had grown up.  Never had he believed that Derek would actually give up his life for the Legacy.  Hadn't the boy learned anything from Winston's poor example?

And so, as his son blew up the House where he had grown up, Winston knew the bargain had been fulfilled.  The ghost immediately shielded his son as the House exploded around  them.  Winston held on tightly, feeling his son go limp in his arms.  The initial blast had knocked Derek unconscious, and Winston knew he could only protect his son from so much.

He made another rapid decision.  Still holding tightly to his son, Winston concentrated all of his power into teleporting Derek to safety . . . though not in this realm.  He arrived on his own plane of existence, exhausted.  A woman met him there and said, "I'll take it from here, Winston. You rest.  He'll have need of you later."

Winston eased his son to the ground, gently stroking salt and pepper strands of hair from Derek's forehead.  But instead of resting, Winston stayed put.  He had never been there for Derek when his son had needed him.  Winston would not leave him now.  The woman said, "Your desire does you credit, my friend.  But you must rest."

"I will rest when Derek is safe.  Not until then.  You gave up your life protecting your children, Deirdre.  And your second daughter would have given up her life to save you.  Unfortunately, I wasn't the parent you were.  I have much to atone for," Winston answered.

Deirdre McCormick Barton, wife of a precept, mother of another, bobbed her head and said, "We must wait until the heat from the blast dies.  Once it's sufficiently cool to return Derek to the site, we'll use one of the tunnels which Nick diagramed.  Winston . . . there are some injuries I can do nothing about.  But it is not time for him to join us."

Winston nodded, answering, "Do what you can, Deirdre." He paused, then added sadly, "If I had done right by my son the first time, none of this would have happened.  Deirdre, we aren't saving him so your husband or Horton can kill him, are we?"  Deirdre was shaking her head as soon as he asked.

"No.  My daughter will see to that," Deirdre replied. Winston said nothing . . . he didn't doubt his companion, but could Valerie Barton keep her father from killing his son? Deirdre added, "And don't underestimate my daughter.  Valerie is angry with Derek, yes.  But she's also fair, as we taught her."  Winston looked up from his son's still face.

"You might have," he said quietly, "but your husband did not.  Yes . . . Derek made a mistake when he believed Jonathan Boyle.  But he did it out of inexperience, not out of malice. Something which your husband has never understood."  Winston paused, then added bitterly, "And for myself, I would strike Boyle down myself, if I could."

"That is not your place.  Shhhh . . . he's awakening.  I know there are things you want to tell your son, and I have changes to make," Deirdre replied.  She closed her eyes, and a moment later, a young woman sat in her place.  Winston shook his head . . . after all this time, he still wasn't used to her morphing into other people.

*    *    *

He hurt.  Derek hadn't imagined that death would hurt so much.  And yet, as he opened his eyes, every part of his body ached.  A gentle hand was stroking his hair back, in a way Derek seemed to remember from childhood.  But that wasn't right, because . . .

His vision was blurry, like he had taken a knock to his head.  Derek made himself focus on the face hovering above him . . . his father?  Derek tried to frown, but his facial muscles wouldn't cooperate.  His father said softly, "It was a demon, son . . . a demon took my form to test you.  Shhh.  Don't try to talk.  There is too much I need to tell you."

Derek tried to swallow, found that he couldn't, and his father continued, "You always were stubborn.  Partly my own fault.  That was how I raised you.  Not to give up.  Once again, my poor parenting comes back to haunt me.  You've been badly hurt, Derek, but we won't let you die."

Now Derek was truly confused . . . his head was pounding, and for the first time, he saw another face.  A young woman, around the same age as Nick, Kristen, and Alex.  Long, curly dark brown hair framing a pale, slim face.  Dark hazel eyes, a few shades darker than his own, filled with compassion.

She just smiled and said, "Do as your father says, Derek.  He shielded you when the House exploded, and brought you here to ensure your survival.  No, don't ask where 'here' is.  It would take too much time to explain.  I will take your hand now, and heal the most serious injuries.  While your father heals the injuries to your heart and soul."

With that, she took his hand and held it between her own two.  The pain began easing, and Derek's father said, "Look at me, son.  Yes, that's good.  I want you to listen to me.  At no time have I ever been disappointed in you.  If I had any source of disappointment, it was with myself.  You have become a man anyone would be proud to call 'son.'  And I am so sorry for the pain I've caused you."

Derek knew now that he was dead.  Either dead or dreaming, because his father would never say such things. Winston Rayne continued, "I never said them, true.  But I should have.  I should have never allowed you to think that you were a disappointment to me, never should have allowed you to think that I didn't love you.  I do.  Very much."

"Odd . . . the only real injuries he sustained were head injuries.  It's as if you weren't the only one shielding him, Winston.  Are you sure that you were the only one in the House when Derek detonated the explosives?" the girl asked, frowning thoughtfully.

"Of course not . . . you didn't really think I would stand by and let Derek kill himself, did you?" a second, equally familiar voice asked.  Derek's father and his companion both looked up as Kristen Adams joined them.  She sank to her knees, explaining, "When I realized what Derek was doing, I made my own plan.  I was in the Legacy, too, remember?"

"So you shielded him, too?" the woman asked and Kristen nodded with a mischievous grin.  The brunette shook her head in admiration, saying, "Well done, Kristen.  Very well done. I see that you're doing an admirable job of dividing your time between San Francisco and Baltimore."

"Well, I have people whom I love in both places . . . as well as Boston, but that will be corrected soon enough. Father Hughes was just made a bishop, so he'll be spending less time with Baltimore House.   And he's already picked out his replacement," Kristen said, her bright eyes sparkling. Derek wondered what she meant by that, then flinched as another lightning bolt of pain shot through his skull.

"So I've heard.  That will cut down on your travel time," the woman observed.  Kristen nodded, and the dark-haired woman continued, "But Winston has more things he needs to tell his son.  I'm almost finished healing him . . . now, there is nothing I can do about his head injury."

"So be it.  The others would be suspicious if he was unhurt," Winston said quietly.  He looked at the two women and said, "Thank you . . . both of you . . . for your help. Deirdre, as usual, you were right . . . I should have listened to you when you told me to rest.  I'd like to ask one more favor of you.  After I finish telling Derek everything, I'd like the two of you to return him."

"Of course we will, Winston.  Come, Kristen . . . we must find a tunnel which isn't badly collapsed and cool enough for Derek to rest.  Then, I think you should lead Nick Boyle to him," the woman called 'Deirdre' said.  Kristen bobbed her head and the two women disappeared.

Winston smiled at Derek, saying, "They're good women.  They talk too much sometimes, but they're good women.  Now.  As I was saying before Deirdre interrupted me, I want you to know how very much I love you.  I never told you, and that's been the greatest regret of my life."

Derek's father paused, then continued, "When you are returned to Earth, returned to San Francisco, you won't remember any of this.  In fact, there is much from the last few years which you won't remember.  But there is one thing you will remember.  I love you, son.  I always have.  And I will always watch over you."

Derek started to protest, but his father shushed him, saying, "No more talking, son.  Close your eyes."  Against his will, Derek found himself obeying his father's instructions, then felt lips brush across his forehead.  Winston Rayne murmured, "You must forget, Derek.  You must forget, and from that death, you will be reborn."  The blackness began to reclaim Derek, and he couldn't stop it.

Continued

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