Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters.
Note: this was written for challenge #129, "The Road Not Taken" and contains some dialogue from Fated To Pretend, written by Gabrielle Stanton and Harry Werksman. As I said in the comments on part one, there's no shock twist or unforeseen drama here - this conclusion is all about the emotional fallout. With, I hope, a little clarity on my choice of title. I hope you enjoy it. Finally, and most importantly, my thanks to the ever-wonderful Grace
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--- Cul-de-sac ---
He could feel the sun.
Isolated, cocooned, Mick sensed the dawn, a prickle of discomfort heralding another day as body and soul longed to wake with the light. He shook off a shiver and swung open the freezer, stepping out into the cool blue. He grabbed his jeans from the back of the door and padded to the bathroom, patting down the pockets and pulling out his phone.
No calls.
No messages.
No e-mails.
The world was giving him a wide berth.
The first night, Josef had been his silent escort, solicitous, seeing to physical needs, evading the emotional fallout. They had avoided each other’s eye, moving slowly, softly, careful not to disturb silence’s spell.
The second night he had been alone. He’d stood at the foot of the stairs, motionless and silent except for his racing breath, a slug of dread rising from stomach to throat until exhaustion won. The itch beneath his skin that could only be soothed in ice compelled him, step by step, fists clenched tight, crescents of blood piercing each palm.
As the sun began its track across the sky on this new day, he was alone again.
For the first time since he was turned back, he faced himself in the mirror, examining the man, reflected. Cool fingers brushed over his breastbone, feeling for the telltale bump of bullet under bone, searching his reflection for the merest trace of healed bruise or fading scar, but there was nothing. No remnant of his brief life and violent death.
Into the shower, scalding water burning, welts rising on frigid skin. He stood it as long as he could before he succumbed, dialling down to cold, soothing relief.
His human failings had brought home the advantages vampire senses bestowed: speed, strength, acuity, but Mick felt sluggish, becalmed. It took him almost an hour to shower, shave and dress, finally pausing in front of the closet, fingering the dark coat, his last layer of armour against the day.
He closed his eyes, chin dropping to his chest.
Taking a deep breath he snatched it from its hook and swirled it over his shoulders, thrusting arms into sleeves that strained under the force.
“Come on, St. John. Places to go; people to see.”
He headed out, striding down the hallway, phone in hand. A brief call to leave a message for Guillermo with an order. He’d time his visit to the morgue carefully to avoid the inevitable questions. He remembered Guillermo’s presence at Anders’ office but he couldn't bear the play by play of what he’d seen, what he’d done and what he knew.
It was too soon.
He couldn’t use that excuse with Beth and Josef. Each had their own reasons for leaving him to his solitude over the preceding day and a half, but the longer he waited, the harder it would get.
The elevator pinged his arrival and he eased across the parking garage into the Benz, his finger hovering over the phone screen. Escape had tempted him. Pack a bag, throw it in the trunk and head out on the road. North, south, anywhere, to be in motion.
But escape meant leaving Beth behind. Thoughts of never seeing her again seared through his chest, a sense memory of the bullet’s track. In that final, fatal moment, life pumping and straining in every nerve, he'd lost everything; now he knew his resolve would never be strong enough to let her go. His urge to protect had dragged her deeper into his world and forced her to make a decision neither of them had foreseen. A decision he doubted he had the strength to make.
She could handle his secrets.
She wasn’t afraid.
She was stronger.
So he hit 'Call', hoping for voicemail, getting a breathless, almost whispered “Mick” midway through the first ring.
“Hey.”
“H-how are you?”
A tiny question with no simple answer, no small-talk escape route.
“I’ll tell you over dinner, if you’re still prepared to risk my cooking.”
In her hesitation he heard her pounding heartbeat, breath catching in her throat.
“Of course. I mean, yes. That would be…” Her words spilled and tumbled, anxious, relieved, hopeful.
Mick hadn’t worked out what he was going to say to her, but at least they’d be face to face.
“8 o’clock?”
“Okay.” A beat, “Mick, I…“ Her voice trailed off, silence taking over.
“Tonight, okay?”
He hung up, tucked the phone into his pocket and started the car, jabbing his sunglasses on and throttling up. It was early, far too early even to consider waking Josef. He had the day and he’d spend it in the sun, in the life and heart of the city. Fuck the consequences.
*****************************
It was just past six o’clock when he pulled into Josef’s drive and strolled up the pathway to the house. Josef would usually be at his office but Mick had called ahead. This conversation wasn’t for eavesdropping ears or interruptions from Asia and beyond.
"Well, you look like death warmed over," Josef’s greeting as he glided across the room, heading for the bar.
Mick smiled, "Thank you, Josef. I can always rely on you to find the right words for any occasion."
"And what occasion is this? A celebration or a wake?" Josef spun on his heel, holding up a decanter of unquestionably fine Scotch.
Mick nodded; Josef poured. "A little of both, I guess."
Josef settled into a chair opposite Mick, his apparent nonchalance betrayed by the tiny tap tap tap of fingers against knee.
He kept his eyes on his drink, “How much do you remember?”
“You know what they say: hearing’s the last thing to go. I remember enough.”
Josef sighed his relief; there was no need for a recap of the night's events. He drained his glass, set it on the table and stared at Mick, assessing.
“So, do I need to be standing by with a flamethrower? Because if you’d really prefer death, it can be easily arranged.”
“I’m sure it can. But that won’t be necessary.” Mick sat forward, holding his friend’s gaze, “I understand, Josef, and I know it wasn’t easy.”
“That almost sounded like, ‘Thank you for saving my ass, Josef.’”
Mick smiled his lopsided smile, “It did, didn’t it?”
They drank.
"Have you seen Beth?"
Mick shook his head, "I’m-"
"Don't tell me,” Josef interrupted, sighing his exasperation. “You think avoiding her is a much better idea than, oh, I don’t know, actually talking to her. She-“
“If you’d let me finish,” Mick shushed him with a raised hand, “I’m having dinner with Beth later.”
Josef raised an appreciative eyebrow, “Not so long ago that sentence would have been accompanied by a huge grin.”
“Not so long ago everything was a lot simpler.”
“Ah yes – because that’s been the overriding characteristic of your relationship: simplicity.” Josef's snort was swallowed in Scotch as he took another gulp.
“We were both human.”
“And humans do such a good job of relationships.”
“Look, Josef, it’s complicated. You know it’s complicated, so just let it be… complicated.”
“It’d be a hell of a lot less complicated if you were dead,” Josef muttered.
“I became human in a vampire's world, the world I built for myself. I couldn't save Coraline. I saved Beth but nearly got myself killed in the process.”
That got Josef's attention, “So you’re giving up on the cure then?”
Mick shook his head. “No. It’s out there – and I’ll find it. And next time I’ll have a plan. I’ll make sure I don't put anyone else in danger. I’ll be prepared.”
“Quite the boy scout. And where does Beth fit in this utopian, well-planned future of yours?”
“That’s up to her.” Mick’s tone was soft, almost resigned.
“Oh for crying out loud. She’s done everything except skywrite ‘I’m in love with Mick St. John’ over LA.” Mick sighed in protest. ”I'm serious, Mick. You weren't there. Well, obviously you were there but you were roadkill, so you'll have to trust me on this. She was prepared to do anything so she didn’t lose you.”
“Why, Josef," Mick sat back in his chair, legs crossed, arms folded, "you almost sound like you approve.”
“Don’t tell anyone or I might find a way of setting the universe back in order. I’m just saying, you may be immortal again, but time’s a-wasting.”
Mick rose, “Very fatherly, Josef.”
“Yeah, well just remember you’re never too old to get spanked. Now get the hell out from under my feet.” He shooed Mick toward the door. “Some of us have work to do and you have a dinner to get ready.”
Mick grinned, heading for the exit. He paused, half-turned. There was something else Josef wanted to ask, he could sense it.
“What did it feel like?”
“Being human again?”
Josef nodded.
His question caught Mick unawares, emotion rising, unexpected tears brimming. He smiled, a brief, sad smile, “Warm. It felt warm, inside.”
*****************************
The remnants of their one-sided dinner were spread out across the rooftop, high above the city bustle, alone. Together.
“Talbot took a bunch of cops round to Anders’. Place was immaculate.”
“Yeah, well, the Cleaner is very good at what she does. No-one will ever find any evidence of what happened there.”
“He had a lot of questions. I told him I was unconscious most of the time and I don’t remember much.”
Mick scowled, “He should just be happy he’s alive.”
“He doesn’t strike me as someone who likes unanswered questions.”
Beth bit into a succulent strawberry.
“How is everything?”
“Delicious,” she nodded.
“Good," Mick laughed, "I was worried about the seasoning.”
Dinner complete, the time for smalltalk was over.
Beth took the initiative, “I don’t know what to say about what happened. Part of you must hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“You nearly died saving me and then-“
“Then you saved me.” Mick’s tone was even, his voice calm, soft, warm.
Beth struggled for words, “I thought… Josef thought… I’m not…”
Mick set his glass down, inching closer, “You both did what you thought was right.”
“Were we right?” She had to know. If he’d never be able to accept the decision she’d made, she had to know. If this was the end, she had to know.
Mick shrugged, a small smile warming her, “I wanted to be human, not dead.”
“And now?”
“You were only in danger from Anders because I was human – I couldn’t protect you. I told you I didn’t want to have any regrets. I couldn’t have lived with myself if something had happened to you. If Anders had-“
“He didn’t.” She reached forward to take his hand. “He didn’t, Mick.” She stroked her thumb over his palm, “How does it feel?”
Mick pulled away, frowning, trying to find the words to describe the emotions of the last 36 hours.
“Strange. I wasn’t ready. I thought I’d have more time. I thought we’d have more time.”
“We have time.” She dipped to meet his eye, “We have time. I’m human and you’re a vampire but it doesn’t mean we’re back to where we started. I’m not sorry you’re alive – because you are alive, Mick.”
“I’m not sorry either. Given the alternative, I can live with this. I just… I just don’t want you getting hurt.” He squeezed her hand, relishing her warmth, her touch.
“Maybe you’re afraid of getting hurt. It’s ironic – you weren’t afraid when you were human but now you’re immortal it’s fear that’s keeping us apart.”
“Being human almost got both of us killed. Humans and vampires… It’s not safe in my world, the world I brought you into.”
He stood, thrusting his hands into his pockets, turning his back to her, the flickering candles catching his restless, angry shadow.
Beth moved to stand beside him, slipping her arm into the crook of his elbow. “It’s where we are and we’ll figure it out, somehow.” She pulled him round to face her, “Give us a chance to figure it out.”
For the first time that evening, Mick looked at her. Really looked at her. Dark circles under her eyes betrayed sleepless nights; her swollen lower lip, remnants of Anders’ handiwork; taut lines of tension across her jaw. The breeze whipped stray strands of hair across her face, but she didn’t flinch, waiting, needing his answer.
Mick reached out to brush them away, stroking his thumb across her cheek.
“I just need a little time.”
“Don’t take too long." She turned into his touch, placing a soft kiss against his palm. "I almost lost you and I don’t want to waste another moment.”
She reached out, stroking fingers through his curls, resting her fingers to his jaw.
Toe to toe, eye to eye, heart to heart. He could feel her need, her hope, her love, reaching out, pulling him close.
Irresistible.
He leaned into her kiss. Her soft, sweet breath, intoxicating. The feel of her pressing close, holding tight as her fingers trailed across the back of his neck, stroking, soothing. He gave up, let go, sinking into her warmth, the power of her care overwhelming him in the bittersweet moment.
A well of sorrow for what might have been surged within. Of all the things he'd done and failed to do when he was human, this was the regret he'd carry forever - not losing his life, but losing his chance to kiss her, to be with her, man to woman.
But she was right about one thing. They were alive.
There was life; there was hope; there was tomorrow.
It's sort of left me tongue-tied, but I loved all the emotions and the depth of feelings. And I'm glad Beth didn't walk away on the rooftop. 
That was for part one, btw. Part two here? All Red... I supplied nothing, nada, nyet, goose egg, zippo, zilch... 
Happiness kinda trapped him here, in spite of himself, 
for MLC.
)
