VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, [10] ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 22:48:05 11/04/03 Tue
Author: Yarvarni
Subject: 8
In reply to: Yarvarni 's message, "Witchblade/The Pretender Crossover" on 22:29:45 11/04/03 Tue

Emotionally and mentally exhausted Ian fell into a deep sleep. Sara didn't know what else to do so she simply pulled the comforter onto both of them and held him throughout the night running the vision over and over, eventually she too slept. Aching muscles and a demanding bladder woke her, Ian had not moved at all during the night and obviously due to her stiffness neither had see. Ian was in a deep hopefully restorative sleep just like he had entered after finding the body in the wall. She sensed more than heard the door open and saw Jarod enter the room carrying a pot and spoon, sporting a wicked grin. She pointed a finger at him, "no!"

Jarod took in the room as well as its occupants, the lights were still on, Ian was still dressed from last evening sans his jacket. His normally quick reflex friend was dead to the world. "What happened?"

Not knowing how much to tell Jarod, Sara paraphrased the evening before, "he got drawn into a vision from his childhood, it was overwhelming."

"Irons?"

"Yeah."

"Should I get Syd?"

"I think its best just to let him sleep this off, I'm not going to leave him until he wakes up."

Jarod nodded in agreement, "let me know how he is. Syd and Parker are here if you need them."

"I will, thanks." Sara returned her attention the the man in her arms her discomfort pushed aside.

Jarod watched them for a moment before leaving. Ian had never really spoken about his childhood to him when they were younger. Jarod had always thought it strange that despite the conditions at The Centre, Ian seemed relieved to be there. What had Kenneth Irons done to his son? He had seen the scars covering his friend, he knew he had been locked inside a midevil torture device by his father but the true extent of abuse was unknown to him. He and Ian were buddies, not necessarily confidants. Jarod wandered back to the kitchen pondering his wisdom in bringing Ian in on this case. Parker had not wanted him to involve him in this, how much did she know of Ian's past. As usual anything said in confidence never passed her lips so she had given him no reasons behind her apprehension.

Sara picked up a photo it was of Katia holding a sleeping Ian cradled in her arms.

"He is so big I can barely hold him like a baby anymore," she said with a sigh as Kenneth slid in bed beside them. She shifts to her side placing Ian between them and rests her head on Kenneth's shoulder. He turns out the light on the bedside table then lays an arm across Ian and pulls her closer.

"I want this always, Katia."

"We always want what we can not have, Kenneth."

The next image Sara sees is Katia standing over the bed as if trying to commit the moment to memory.

Ian's dark head rests on his fathers chest an arm thrown across his waist. She leans over and kisses his cheek, "goodbye my sweet boy." She straightens a bit brushing back Kenneth's sleep touseled white gold hair, "I am so sorry my love." Tears in those russet eyes, she flees the room.

Flashes of Kenneth spending time with Ian as he got bigger, reading to him, laughing at his antics, teaching him the piano, watching as he held a large violin in little hands.

Five year old Ian watches patiently as his father's large hands gracefully depress the ivory keys, "see? Now you." As Irons slid over allowing Ian to clambor onto the bench, a shaken looking man bursts through the door.

"Sir, there is a woman at the door, she is in a bad way."

"Take her to the infirmary, call Immo, then the authorities." He turned back to Ian, "now, Ian, continue."

"Mama," Ian whispered.

Kenneth was up and out the door in an instant, he flew to the security guard who held the unmoving form in his arms. "Katia, Katia, what happened?" He took her from the bewildered man.
"He is safe and I am free...."she went limp in his arms.

"Call IMMO!" He laid her on the table in the infirmary.

Immo approached checked for a pulse, did a brief exam, listened for a heartbeat, finding none he turned to his longtime employer and friend, "she's gone, Kenneth, I'm sorry."

"No! No! Do something, don't just stand there, she spoke to me minutes ago. Do CPR!"

Immo shook his head, "her chest is crushed, CPR won't work. A miracle won't bring her back." She had been badly beaten no doubt succumbed to massive internal injuries.

"A miracle might not but I know something that will." Kenneth picked her up and carried her down the long corridor, he laid her before a glass case. He lifted the item from the case and placed it on her wrist. The stone of the Witchblade began to glow and after a long moment Katia took a deep breath much to Immo's horror. In the shadows terror showed on Ian's face, the boy had been forgotten in the commotion. Images of what would come to pass if his Papa allowed the mystical bracelet to remain on his Mama flooded through him. He ran to her side and ripped it from her wrist tossing it down the hall into the shadows.

"IAN!" Kenneth roared as Katia's body went limp before him.

"She is not a Wielder, Papa."

Enraged Kenneth backhanded the boy, "you know nothing!" He pulled her in his arms trying to will the spirit back into her cold lifeless body.

Ian approached slowly, tears streaming down his face, "Papa," he said softly placing a small hand on his father's arm.

Kenneth looked up at him, "you have killed her, boy!"

Seeing the fury in Kenneth's eyes Immo picked up the boy. "Papa...Papa, Paapaa!" Ian screamed as Immo carried him away.

Ian picked up the violin and began to practice. His Papa had not been to see him since his Mama died four days ago. If he would only could see him he could explain the visions but his door had been locked. Playing the violin always made his Papa happy maybe if he played well he would come. Ian got his wish, a haggard older, harder looking Kenneth entered the music room. He glared down at him. Ian stopped playing and tilted his head back to look up at his father, usually he knelt down so he didn't have to hurt his neck. He got overbalanced and fell dropping the precious violin on the marble floor, Kenneth snatched it up examining it for damage.

"You idiot, do you see what you have done? You have broken the bridge!"

"I..I...I didn't mean to. I'm so....so...sorry. I can fix it."

"How, Ian? How do you suppose you can repair all that you have ruined in the past week? Hmm?" There was venom in his smile "Can you return your mother to me?"

A shock of hair fell across tear filled amber eyes as he looked up at his father, "no."

"No, you can not and in your infinite youthful wisdom you wretched the only thing that could have saved her from her wrist and tossed it away. Why did you do that?"

"I saw the Withcblade form on Mama's arm, but she wasn't Mama, she looked like her but she didn't love us anymore. She was evil, it punished her because she wasn't one of them. You were wrong to use the Witchblade to fit your will."

Kenneth grabbed the violin gripping the neck in his hand he struck Ian across the shoulder sending him reeling and shattering the delicate instrument with the sheer force of the blow. "Do not dare to presume to tell me how to shape my will, boy." He nudged the unconcious crumpled form with his foot while picking up the phone, "Immo, I need you in the music room."

Immo appeared immediately rushing to Ian's side. Kenneth gave a sneer of disgust, "I want his hair cut and the staff informed that he is not to cross my path. His room is to be moved near your laboratory, he is not allowed upstairs unless accompanied by you or an instructor, there will be no more coddling of him by the staff am I understood?"

"Kenneth, he is your son."

"No, he is something I own. He is subject to my will." WIth that he was gone.

Immo shook his head worried at the turn his friend had taken hoping this mood would pass and he would realize Ian was not to blame in this. Ian sat up slowly with his help, large eyes blinked trying to take in everything that just occured. "Come along, Ian, lets get you to the infimary and check you out." Ian took the proffered hand and eased to his feet. They were almost out of the room when he turned and ran back stuffing the largest pieces of the shattered instruments in his pockets.

Sara slowly became aware of sleepy golden eyes peering up at her. Ian nuzzled the exposed swell of her breasts, "hmmmm, this is how I want to wake up every morning."

"Morning, Baby." What did she tell him about everything she just saw?

"Morning," he grinned a shyly. She kissed his forehead, not meeting his gaze. "You saw something didn't you? Something else?"

"Yeah, I did. She left and didn't come back for several years. When she did, she was injured badly. Dr. Immo was summoned but it was too late, she was too far gone. He took it badly and placed the Blade on her wrist." She paused looking deeply into his eyes for any recognition of this event.

"It did not work?"

"It revived her but she wasn't a Wielder, you knew that it would destroy her..." she let the sentence hang.

"I removed it didn't I?"

"Yeah, and tossed it down the hall. Ian, you did the right thing, you saw what it would do to her to try and wield."

"She died, he blamed me?"

"Yeah," she was going to regret saying this, regret giving any humanity to the man that so cruelly turned his back on his son. "Ian he was literally insane with grief, losing her destroyed whatever good resided in him. You look so much like her, I don't think he could bear seeing her in you."

"He hated me..."

"He loved you, I just don't think he could deal with losing her and you were the biggest reminder of her.....he sealed those photos, hid that painting...."

"Her death, the loss of her life drove him to deny me, to abuse me?"

"Ian, I think it would be best if you talked to Sydney about this. I can't be objective where he is concerned. I want to help and I will support you in any way I can but please don't ask me to make Kenneth Irons the victim in this, which is where I think you're going to end up with this. I think what little good that resided in him died along with her. You did nothing to deserve what he did to you. Do you undestand me?"

"Yes, I think so," he said hesitantly. "Sydney is going to have a field day with this."

"Why do you think she left?"

"I think she felt she was protecting both of you from someone...she did mention a husband."

"Perhaps I should look up some of those people I beat up for calling me a bastard and apologize to them."

"Not funny, Ian."

He smiled sadly kissing her on the cheek, "what is the old saying, laughing to keep from crying?"

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-5
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.