Journal Entry – June 24, 2010
“Flynn has found a way back through the ether. And things have vastly changed.”
I remember sitting across from my brother Victor, hearing those words spoken to me just over a month ago. The apologetic way he looked at me, paired with the way his voice hardened at the delivery of his words, would have been enough to make me wince, but my mind couldn’t process the actual meaning of the words themselves. A dam of denial buckled, but refused to burst.
“Brother, I know we are not above jesting, you and I, but this is one joke I do not appreciate,” I said. I frowned at Victor.
Peter joined the discussion. “Dear brother, I can assure you we would never state as such to you in jest.”
“Nonsense.” My eyes shot to Peter, annoyance brewing in the storm forming within my gaze. “This shouldn’t be possible.” I looked at Victor again. “What do you mean ‘back through the ether’? He shouldn’t even exist any longer.”
Victor nodded. “He should not, from what Peter explained of the merge, yet he does. During an idle conversation looking back on the past year, his name was spoken. And he returned.” He quirked half a smile. “I nearly jumped out of my skin when it happened.”
Memories flashed through my mind of eight months prior to that discussion. I remember Peter and Victor sitting in my study, Peter drawing a deep breath and shutting his eyes as he prepared to kill his alter ego and integrate their personalities. As I watched my brother begin the struggle, I couldn’t help but feel my stomach sink, as though I was finally having a chance to bury old demons. ‘Goodbye, Flynn,’ I thought, glancing away for a moment lest Victor see the look in my eyes. ‘I wonder if I should feel as apathetic about watching you die as you did me.’ My sentiments might have startled me if I hadn’t been used to them by that point. I alone knew the truth and now the time had come to bury it in the ground.
For all intents and purposes, he was gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish. I never bothered to mask my loathe of him, but I hid behind the guise of telling others I despised him for the simple fact that he killed me. If not for The Fates, I would still be dead.
Simple fact, that. Compared to the full truth, it was indeed simple.
“You’re sure it was him?” I asked Victor, half-frowning, half-scowling, but attempting to rein in my crumbling reserve; swiftly reaching the point of not caring about my composure. I sighed and looked away. “Of course, I highly doubt Peter would play such a practical joke on you.” My eyes remained focused on the opposite wall, those old feelings beginning to strangle me. I squared my jaw and nodded once. “What called the devil back from the depths of hell where he belongs? A simple idle conversation mentioning his name? I have a hard time believing that.”
“Brother, it is exactly as Victor has said it to you,” Peter said.
“Nonsense. Utter nonsense.”
“He wanted to know why I was speaking of him,” Victor said.
“Oh, did he?” I stood and paced away, folding my arms across my chest. I refused to look at Peter and Victor. “I hardly see what he would stand to gain from being an interloper on an idle discussion.”
There was a pause before Victor responded. “From my understanding, he was not eavesdropping. It was the first conversation that caught his attention in all these months.” He hesitated briefly. “Because I said I somewhat missed bantering with him.”
My attention snapped back to Victor, an eyebrow raised. “How is it possible he heard any discussion? How is it possible he even exists? I fail to wrap my head around this, brother. And even more so how you could miss anything about that loathsome creature.” ‘I thought you hated him, too.’
He tensed slightly, then relaxed. “I know it is difficult to appreciate, brother, but I truly never did begrudge Flynn his existence, and I always respected him. I have no notion of what whim of the cosmos has allowed him to continue to exist, but I promise you that he does. And we are all here tonight because this time, he has been invited to stay.”
His words sent a blow to my stomach. I tried to shake it off, while unable to stop my facial expression from falling. Rage bubbled to the surface, barely suppressed. “By whose decree?”
Victor met my gaze measure for measure, his chin rising in something of a challenge, though he remained seated. “Mine. With Peter’s consent.”
I stared at him for a long time before disappointment filtered through my gaze. “Brother, what in God’s name are you thinking? I thought you much more sober-minded than that.”
The words impacted Victor. I watched them sting him, his expression falling slightly. The look in his eyes turned sober, somewhat apologetic. I wanted to sneer in revulsion. ‘You have no idea why you should even be sorry, Victor.’ “Things have changed, brother, I promise you,” he said. “In ways that I would have told you were impossible a year ago.”
I shook my head. “Flynn does not change, Victor. Flynn might mask himself for a time, but the moment your guard is down, he claims precisely what he came there for.” ‘I know this better than most.’ I sighed. “For all you know, he might have been waiting in the wings for a summon and is now delighted you’ve all fallen for the ruse that he comes in peace. Change and Flynn do not reside in the same reality.” ‘I made the mistake of thinking that once before. I made the mistake of thinking so many things could change.’
Victor quirked a half smile. “Then it is probably a good thing he has not been a part of this reality for some time.” His gaze turned cautious, not entirely pleading. “Meet him, brother. Talk to him and judge for yourself. We came here tonight with Flynn’s knowledge, and his willingness to stand in front of you and assert the truth for himself.”
Blinking, I raised an eyebrow. I murmured, not trusting my voice to speak much louder. “The devil listens to our discussion, brother? Have you come to trust him this much?” I looked away, trying to mask the pain in my eyes. “I have nothing to say to him. He can pull his tricks on you all you want to your downfall, but I know precisely the sort of monster you’re consorting with.”
Victor pushed to a stand. I looked back in time to see his temper flaring. “Do you think I would trade anything in this world just to consort with a devil, brother? That I would condemn Peter to sharing his body with a monster of nefarious intentions toward anyone in this room?”
I finally allowed my eyes to meet his again. “I don’t know what to think about this madness. We all agreed he was better banished or merged or whatever in the name of The Fates happened to him. Now you’ve granted him passage to stay?”
“I have.” Victor nodded. “Brother, when I say things have changed, it is doing the sum total of the situation an injustice. Flynn is looking at this world with new eyes, and a changed heart. He feels, Robin. I swear to you. And he wants another chance simply to experience what this world has to offer, not for decadence and blood, but in things that are worthwhile.”
‘He feels? For you, you mean.’ I frowned. “I don’t believe you.”
“Brother…” Peter spoke with a hint of irritation in his voice which only served to wound me further. “Would I be sitting here, so calm, if I suspected Flynn had nefarious intent? Who knows him better than I do? Not even you, Robin. You do not believe Victor, then fine, speak to Flynn for yourself and see. However, I believe you owe Victor an apology once all is said and done.”
Shaking my head, I glowered at Peter. “I care about the well-being of you all. Victor, you, John… Being under the same roof with that demon…”
“Who has changed, dear brother.” Peter sighed. “One chance. A few minutes, a few questions. Whatever it might take.”
I gritted my teeth. “You want me to talk to him? Then let him out.”
Victor nodded once at me, offering me a parting gaze which was somewhat unreadable. Looking at Peter, I watched him relax and felt a slight tinge of guilt over my behavior toward Victor. He took a deep breath and nodded, issuing a soft half-smile. I watched a silent form of communication be exchanged between them, undoubtedly telepathic, before Victor stepped close and took hold of Peter’s hand. “Flynn,” he said in a firm summon. “It’s time.”
Peter shut his eyes, a placid smile on his face until his eyes fluttered open again. He nodded once at Victor, but the look in his eyes had changed, something I couldn’t distinguish right away, but knew possessed the glint characteristic of Flynn. I squared my shoulders. ‘So, you return, assassin.’ I scowled with intense animosity at him when that gaze locked with mine and felt a flash of anger at how calmly he spoke. “Well… a party,” Flynn said, “And I have been invited. Although, it would seem certain receptions have turned chillier than I remember them.”
Victor shut his eyes, but smirked slightly. My eyes widened, then relaxed. ‘Glad to see you’re enjoying this, brother,’ I thought as he straightened his posture and his expression turned more neutral. He glanced at Lily first, then looked at me, pausing for a moment before saying, “I trust you at least believe this is not Peter playing a joke.”
I stared coldly at Flynn, swallowing hard once before nodding. “No, I know this devil far too well for me to say that. As for chilly receptions, I am hard-pressed to think of any reason why you deserve anything but.”
He shrugged. “Fair enough, Robin. I did not expect you would be entirely pleased to see me and I cannot say I fault you.” He looked toward Lily. I tensed immediately. “Not to deviate from the matter at hand, but simply because I like to know precisely who I might be facing…” He smirked. “Assassins become irritable when there are too many unknowns in the equation.” His smirk relaxed. “But would this be Delilah by chance?”
‘Leave her alone, you bastard.’ My thoughts practically screamed the words. Victor nodded at Flynn. “It is indeed,” he said. “And Delilah, this is Flynn.” He smiled slightly. “Though he does borrow Peter’s form.”
Lily took a deep breath, then studied Flynn curiously. “And yet, he is definitely not Peter,” she said. I watched her smile and felt my heart sink while desperately trying to mask the reaction from my lover, knowing our blood bond to be potent enough for my feelings to betray me. Her eyes shifted from Flynn to Victor and back again. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not appropriately impressed, but I never thought I would meet you.”
He nodded once. “If my mission was to impress by virtue of my reputation, I would have granted you a far different show, I promise.” Flynn hummed. “I find myself in a far different position, however. You being the exception, the others gathered here have seen enough of my darker side. Flaunting it around would not only be counter-intuitive, but redundant. I wish to make amends. View me in a far more contrite posture.”
I blinked. “Why?” I asked. “What is your game, Flynn? What do you stand to gain from this charade?”
He regarded me with a sober expression on his face. “To answer your question would be to grant this is a charade. I will, however, respond to why I wish to make amends.” Flynn glanced at Victor and drew in a deep breath, then turned his attention to Lily and me. “I have been granted a second chance with far more extraordinary consequences than I dared imagine. A chance to know the children; a chance to bridge the gulf between us as brothers. And…” His gaze shifted back to Victor and I frowned, anticipating what he was to say next by the look I saw in his eyes. A look I never once saw directed at me. “… To experience love and revel in it, in depths I never knew I was capable of experiencing.”
Those words impacted like a sharpened edge, like the sword he had used to slaughter me twenty years in the past. I felt like stumbling backward, but stood completely still, hiding my pain behind loathe and my sadness behind utter hatred.
I have written several times in the past the phrase, ‘I wish I could have loved Peter the way he needed.’ There is a modicum of hypocrisy in the statement. In enumerating the list of people I’ve held at least a passing infatuation for, I’ve mentioned Sabrina and Timothy, Katerina and my enchanted night with Éilis. The reason I’ve qualified my relationship with Peter as being brothers and only that has much to do with what he became after I was brought back from the dead. The being I first encountered wasn’t the brother I remembered. In becoming a seer, Peter’s humanity morphed the vampire before me into a completely different creature. One I could only look upon, affectionately, as my immortal sibling.
The Flynn I knew, however… We had a history. When Sabrina first turned him, we hated each other and did nothing to mask that from one another. I called him a deathless mortal when his first few weeks found him conscience-laden. He called me pompous and arrogant, and lost in the past. Our animosity culminated in a sword match and when he managed to best me, I named him Flynn. It was meant to be an insult; I was naming him for our eldest immortal sibling, Patrick Flynn, whom Sabrina regarded as a mistake. ‘Your very existence is a mistake,’ was the silent jab I threw at him.
He, in turn, called me Robin.
I don’t know what it was about taking on the name of a brigand which changed things, but I slowly began taking him under my wing and training him to be a proper immortal. I taught Flynn how to use a sword until his abilities eclipsed mine. And I watched with pride as he started besting the instructors we flew in from the four corners of the world to make him a highly trained assassin. He might as well have been my child after a time, but just as these sentiments rose up within me, he became so loyal to Sabrina, I had to choke them back.
It didn’t make them go away, however. I spent the next four years protecting him, running errands for him if just to make sure I kept a sharp eye on what he was doing. When I was christened an elder by the surrounding covens, I realized how dangerous of a being Flynn was and had one chance to kill him, lest he bring about Armageddon. I couldn’t do it, though. I held a knife behind my back with one hand settled on his shoulder, but I tucked the blade away and joined him for a hunt instead. That was the moment I realized the truth.
I wanted to love him. I wanted to pray one day he’d love me. I prevented Matthew’s coven from calling for his execution even after how many vampires he had slaughtered as an assassin. I did it all because for one brief, shining moment he finally betrayed his loyalties to Sabrina and let me conspire against her, telling me he wanted to be free. Mired in indecision, he didn’t know what to do with his new seer abilities and didn’t want to be anybody’s pawn. Daring myself to act upon my feelings for him, I offered him the neutrality he sought.
“I could use a bodyguard, Flynn,” I said as we stood on the streets of Philadelphia. “Not an assassin, but someone to help make the transition from Sabrina’s leadership to mine more seamless.”
He blinked. “You plan on taking the helm?”
I nodded. “I am her second.” I gazed at him across the expanse, my expression soft, entreating. “Would you be my guardian as I have been yours these past few years?”
He stared at me, searching me for what felt like endless minutes. I sensed his hesitation and continued, “No seducing. No manipulation.” ‘I love you, Flynn, and could never do that to you.’ “You wouldn’t be my servant, you would be my friend. I only seek your defense, Flynn, not for you to be a strong arm for my whims.” I paused, a solemn grin rising to the surface. “Unless your human destiny calls first to snatch you away.”
“Bah.” He flicked the notion away with the capricious flip of his hand. I almost chuckled. I knew how he felt about being drafted by the Supernatural Order. “Human destinies are for mortals and I am hardly mortal any longer.” He studied me again, a pensive look on his face. “Only a bodyguard and nothing more?”
“As surely as you named me Robin and I named you Flynn, I will never ask for you to be an assassin again.”
He nodded, discarding a cigarette he had been smoking. Flynn glanced away, then looked back at me. “I shall not stand in your way as the assassination is carried out. And, when you are finished, my sword will be used for your protection.”
I could not suppress the grin. “You agree then, brother?”
He smiled, too, and nodded. “Yes, I agree, Robin.”
A flash of sheer delight raced through me. I embraced him before he could protest, ignoring the awkward way he fell into it and patted his back as I thought of the feel of him in my arms. ‘It might take decades, but maybe someday you might enjoy being in mine.’ I pushed away before being tempted to kiss his neck or slide my hands across his back. They settled on his shoulders instead. “Very good, Flynn,” I said. I chuckled. “This is so much better than the thought of meeting you again someday as your adversary.”
He laughed. “I should say so, for your sake.”
The moment of jesting provoked a bout of laughter from me, in part because I knew exactly what I was thinking in that moment. “I can’t argue that much.” I sighed, relieved. “Oh goodness. This is the best I’ve felt in decades. Finally this can all be put behind us and the covens can be at peace.” I risked the chance of adding in my thoughts, ‘And maybe you might see me as something other than your brother with Sabrina out of the way. But only when you’re ready, Flynn.’
As I laid down to rest that morning, I thought of the veritable Pax Romana which laid before us. With Sabrina’s reign of terror ended, I would take over and would lead my immortal siblings as their mentor and friend. I figured Louis might be my second, or Matthew himself could send one of his children over to help me lead. And Flynn would stand guard as my closest confidante.
I had a week to muse on this thought; just one week to lose myself in possibility, daydreaming about the years to follow. I saw the day I could finally look Flynn in the eyes and tell him how I felt, his startled reaction, but him sinking closer, our lips meeting as I dared him to consider what loving me might be like. The first feverish coupling, his body finally mine to explore, and then lying in bed with him, hearing him joke about being the coven master’s consort. I pushed these thoughts out of the way the closer we came to Sabrina’s judgment hearing.
Seeing Flynn enter the room that night, though, completely shattered them.
I knew, with him armed the way he was, that something had changed in the week between our last talk and his entrance into the meeting hall. I remained too shocked, though, to do anything about it. He drew his sword and ran it through Matthew first before the other five coven masters, their seconds, and their bodyguards were decimated by Flynn. By the time I knocked myself out of my stupor to fetch a sword, I was the only one remaining. I begged of him to reconsider.
He responded by running me through the chest with a sword.
I felt the blackness leeching through me, second death encroaching fast, with me turning to ash from the inside out. My final words to him were all the explanation I had a chance to offer. “I loved you as a brother, Flynn.” My final words; as close as I could come to telling him how I felt. I died that night with no hope of returning, until The Fates had other plans for me.
The person I returned to help was Peter. Now a fully-realized seer, I didn’t detect a trace of the assassin I had known. To prevent myself from becoming bitter, I treated him as a wholly separate person and dismissed all thought of Flynn. Even when the assassin became a split personality in Peter’s mind. I never spoke to Flynn directly. I avoided him at all costs. And I heartily encouraged the personality merger Peter and Victor placed in front of me as their way to make Peter whole again. After twenty years of shadows, I thought everything would be finished now.
Seeing him back only ripped the wounds open again.
I’ve watched in the periphery as he moves about among us, as though he deserves to be there. His arms wrapped around Victor… I don’t begrudge Victor at all what he shares with Flynn because I’m genuinely glad to see Flynn finally experience emotion. Victor looks exactly as I imagined myself in all those daydreams and my care for Victor as a brother makes me happy for his sake. I simply can’t let go of the shadows of the past for some reason.
It clouded my judgment to the point that I did something completely thoughtless last week. Flynn has been inhabiting his former lover Gabrielle’s body and Victor and Peter brought him over to ask Lily if she could furnish some temporary clothing for him. A redheaded woman, of all things. I could have cut the irony with a knife if I would have asked Flynn to furnish a blade. Somehow, our discussion looped around to the carnal as we sized up the assassin in the form of a female. I followed the compulsion to join Victor as he lured Flynn into the bedroom.
Yes, I finally had that coupling. Only it wasn’t as feverish and wasn’t as rich of an experience as I had the scene painted in my head. But I stole it because I felt it was my right, as though he owed me something after all the hell I’d endured because of him. Before the door even had a chance to shut, I knew I’d made a mistake, however, and this was only reaffirmed when Lydia had a poor reaction to hearing about what I’d done. She called me thoughtless and I attempted to tell her I thought of her all the time.
She nodded curtly in response to the last thing I’d said. “Right. Well.” She paused, then the words rushed out as a torrent. “But in regard to me being a thought… thanks for taking that an overarching accusation. To clarify, I was trying to say that when you fucked Flynn, you were thinking with your…” She stopped and closed her eyes. “Whatever. I get it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Lydia, I wasn’t thinking with that particular portion of my anatomy.” Realizing what had her so upset made me frown. I spoke before I could stop myself. “Do you want to know what I was thinking? I said childish form of retribution earlier for a reason. I was taking revenge on him. It doesn’t make what I did any more right, but it wasn’t about the opportunity to bed him.
“I am…” I swallowed hard and lowered my hand from her shoulder to intertwine my fingers on my lap. My eyes drifted downward. “Do you want me to tell you something I haven’t even told Lily? I am struggling a great deal with him being in our lives again. Lily knows that, just not the extent. How much bitterness I’ve been harboring over him.” I shrugged, drawing a shaky breath inward. “I came close to loving him once. I’ve never told a single, solitary soul that. I wanted to love your father, but I couldn’t the way he needed. Flynn, however…” I sighed. “I can sympathize with Victor’s position because while Flynn was still an assassin, I tried to be his mentor. I was grateful for those moments when he and I could forget about Sabrina and her demands on us. We were finally brothers in those moments.”
Nodding, I continued. “When he… agreed to be my bodyguard, I had the flicker of a hope that maybe someday… something more could exist between us. I knew it would take a long while, but I was willing to be patient. Instead, he betrayed me and ran a blade through my chest. My final words to him were, ‘I loved you as a brother,’ but had I more time, I might have said something else.” Lifting a hand, I swiped a rogue tear from my cheek, an overflow from the tense emotions still present after my fight with Lydia. I composed myself and finished speaking. “So, the other night, I was taking out my anger on him by stealing from him one of the things I never had the chance to experience. Take that however you want, but now you are the only soul on this mortal coil who knows the truth.”
Lydia sat still for a few moments, lost in thought. Slowly, she unfolded her hands and reached over, placing one hand on top of mine. She didn’t speak at first, but I saw the tears rolling down her cheeks as her eyes lifted and looked just as glassy as mine felt. Through the haze of bitterness settling on me, I saw understanding in the way she looked at me. I waited patiently for her to speak.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For that, that you had to steal something you wanted.” Lydia pressed her lips together in a gesture which looked designed to try and hold back her tears. It only worked marginally. Her hand tightened over mine. “And… As horrible as it might be… That actually makes me feel better. I really didn’t get why you would sleep with Flynn, and it really hurt… that you got so swept up in it that you didn’t think about me. But… if you loved him…” Her other hand joined the first in resting atop mine. She continued looking at me. “I’m sorry, for what that must feel like, having to hold it in. If… if you ever want to talk about it, it’s okay.” A shaky smile surfaced on her lips.
I clasped my hands around hers, shuddering with the way it felt to tell someone what I’d been holding in for so long. My face contorted as I felt more tears begin to form. I tried hard to stop them from falling. “I feel that blade perpetually in my chest when he’s around, a stóirín. And it only makes me more bitter that he doesn’t realize he did more than turn me to dust that day.”
She nodded slowly, her smile turning wan. “He broke your heart. And then the Fates threw you and Dad together, and you’ve been walking around with the reminder of what you lost a chance to. What got stolen.” Lydia quieted for a moment. “And now he’s back. Actually back.” Her eyes locked with mine again. She added softly, “And in love with someone else.”
The words cut, themselves a reminder of how hurt seeing the first loving glance Flynn ever exchanged with Victor made me feel. My Adam’s apple bobbed with the force of how hard I swallowed and I laughed sardonically. “This is why I fought the way I did with Victor over his return. Flynn? Love? The man was incapable of it. He loved himself and precious little more than that.” The reminder of my bitterness forced me to lower my eyes again. “I am not… I do not… resent Victor for having what he does with Flynn. He is… absolutely right that Flynn has changed and for the better.” A sad smile found its way onto my face as I looked at Lydia again. “It would never be me, though. And it never could now, because I couldn’t trust him to open myself up to him as much as I was starting to before.”
She squeezed my hands, a tear falling even as she smiled softly. “Never say never. It might be a one in a million, but if one day he figures this all out, it’s a maybe. And you could move forward from there.” She sighed, then huffed a soft laugh. “But it might take a while.”
Sighing, I smiled softly. “I think that time passed over twenty years ago, a stóirín, but I admire you for being so optimistic.” I leaned forward and kissed her, lingering close to her and drawing in a deep breath before pulling back. “I am perfectly content with you and Lily. I don’t need another lover. It’s just… difficult… having old wounds reopened like this. With your father… I had to set it in my mind he was a completely different being than the brother I alm…” I sighed. “I… fell in love with. And for all intents and purposes, he is different. The man in that woman’s body, though…” Shaking my head, I trailed off.
Lydia recommended I not sleep with him again, as much to prevent any hurt against her as to stop me from wounding myself. I agreed, and took one step further, deciding against bedding Peter or Victor casually, too. Considering my proclivities, it was a lot for me to surrender, but I need to get my bearings back again. I am spiraling and need a place to land.
So, here I sit now, staring at this book with my pen jotting down things I can’t tell anyone else. If I told Lily, it would put her in the position of needing to keep something from her maker, because I don’t want Victor to know under any circumstances. He loves Flynn just as deeply as he loves my brother. I took enough of Victor’s blood when I was injured to feel the occasional sharp prick of emotion from him whenever we’re in the same room. I want Flynn to know what that feels like. I wouldn’t even care if Victor decided he wanted to join in marriage with Flynn as he had with Peter because that will mean Flynn has changed permanently.
What I wrestle with is how I’m supposed to react to all of this.
I’ve been thinking of asking Lily and Lydia if they wouldn’t mind a holiday, but haven’t thought of the right way to bring this up. Lydia, I could tell, but Lily… I don’t know how I’d explain why I needed it. Every time I’m mired in turmoil, my native country calls my name and beckons me back to its emerald shores. I hear Ireland’s siren song resonating through my soul again.
Sláinte,
Michael
