TITLE: Icarus Manor, chapter 18 AUTHOR: lillywhite1, but you can call me Casey. SUMMARY: In a mysterious mansion in a secluded part of North America, a man discovers that he is far from alone in the world. Here at Icarus Manor several species of non-human description live together to survive in a world that does not know they exist. LAST CHAPTER: Dominic returns to the pack to find it in ruin. THIS CHAPTER: Mr. Boyd makes a desperate attempt that leaves the house in shock. PAIRING: DM/BB, hints of EW/SA RATING: R FEEDBACK: is my neutella on a spoon that makes me go all gooey and melty and mmmmm... A/N: Text in asterisks (*) represents italics indicating remembering, creepy voice, thoughts, or general emphasis. This is a book and a work in progress. Be gentle. Comments to cswann1@gmail.com. Chapter 18 William's wings spread wide and pumped him towards the sun as he screamed in agony from his broken soul. Every inch of his power was extended now in this suicidal attempt to reach the sun. That fucking sun. The source of his pain; the residence of his sadistic God. He propelled himself both with his wings and his psychic powers towards heaven and the Creator he could not endure any longer. Aiming for the sun he climbed higher and higher reaching astonishing speeds and cursing the whole of the universe for his misfortune. The air around him grew thinner, his lungs straining to find all the oxygen they could. William shook off the blackness that crept up into his eyes, threatening to block out all light and send him crashing down. He continued to soar, determined to reach his impossible goal. How could everything be okay now that Dominic was gone? How could he ever let anyone in again? After all of this time, he never thought it would hurt so much, so fresh like it did when he lost Amespha. William broke through the clouds to see the sun clear and cruel before him. His mortal flesh felt the sting of cold, but he continued onward and upward. He thought of her laugh, her passion, even her glorious tears; all were proof of her life and how real she had been. He wanted all of that with Dominic. He wanted more. He wanted to be there when Dominic cried, when he danced with joy, or sang from ecstasy. Especially that. He wanted to make Dominic feel all that pleasure, that pure connection. It wasn't just sex to William; It was the baring of souls. It was the merging of all energies. And after so long being alone and separate and cloistered away, he wanted it more than ever, and now he was gone. He wanted to share those lazy days that crept by so slow they could have taken a century to go from sunrise to sunset. He wanted dark nights and midnight flights with his beloved cradled in his arms, protecting him from the wind. He wanted them to swim naked and unembarrassed, just free and streamlined as the bubbles and watery light played over them. Just to kiss him and embrace him and never have to restrain himself again. The air now ice cold around him, his mortal lungs nearly had stopped their futile search for air. The darkness threatened to take William's consciousness, but still his pain was too strong and he thrust further from the earth. William choked on his sobs. He never thought he would have begged to have as little time with Dominic as he had had with her. At least then he'd had some time, with Dominic things hadn't even begun. Not one deep secret shared; not one night of passion; not one chance to declare his love. He wanted time, he needed more time to find Dominic and charm him back to the manor house. But he would bet that a certain someone wouldn’t let that happen. He was just destined to feel pain for the rest of time infinite. Then all things went quiet, and as the blackness crept over the eyes in his mortal coil, William began to plummet back towards the earth he had loved so much. ~ Orlando and Elijah dashed outside at the sound of the explosion just in time to see a huge winged creature tear out of the roof of the manor house and up into the sky. The thing screamed at it went further up and through the clouds. Elijah cringed from the noise reverberating in his sensitive merman ears, before stopping suddenly. “Oh dear God.” “What the hell was that?” “That was Mr. Boyd!” The two thropes watched transfixed as the soaring bullet of white continued its upward climb. “Where the fuck is he going?!” Orlando had to shout over the excruciatingly loud telepathic scream. Viggo came rushing from the house to join them. “What is that?!” “Mr. Boyd blasted his way through the roof and shot into the sky!” “He must be crazy!” Orlando shouted, still trying to block his ears. Several other inhabitants of the house came outside to see what the matter was. They spilled out of the front door, crawled out of the garden and levitated in the windows, all eyes turned upwards. There was mumbling and glances shot. Even the ghosts looked concerned. The telepathic scream faded, and then it stopped. The entire household stopped talking to watch the dot of white that was Mr. Boyd ascend into the glare of the sun. A moment passed in absolute suspense, then he began to fall and the screams were their own. Panic ripped through the crowd as the white blur that was their kind employer reddened as he caught fire. More screams, agonized bellows, and frantic twitterings followed from the many paranthropes gathered. “Listen!” Viggo shouted above the din, “I need your help! Those of you that are telekinetic, I need you to help me slow his fall! The rest of you, we need quiet to concentrate! Everyone focus on him!” Viggo turned from the crowd to see Mr. Boyd, now a ball of fire continuing to plummet. Viggo nearly lost his nerve. His voice cracked, “Raise your dominant hand towards him! Focus! Slow him down as best you can! We can save him!” Viggo felt a swell of psychokinetic power as half a dozen thropes raised their hands towards the sky. Viggo focused with all of his power on arresting the fall of the flaming streak of red. He pushed his mind to its very limits. He felt the tightening of air molecules around Mr. Boyd. Invisible things shifted. The crowd behind him was pumping every last drop of power they had into this mission. He felt connection with them, even Sean was there. Viggo was a little surprised. Sean was exceptionally concerned, strangely concerned. Viggo turned to see him there, staring hopelessly at the sky. Viggo turned his attention back to Mr. Boyd, and found it was beginning to work. They slowed his descent considerably, but he continued to hurtle through the clouds and down towards the unyielding earth. “Orlando!” Viggo shouted, “When he comes within your range, you need to put the fire out.” Viggo felt more than heard Orlando's panicked doubt. “You can do it. He needs you now.” Orlando nodded quickly as Viggo turned his full attention back to the falling star. They had stopped his acceleration and now his speed began to diminish, but it wasn't enough. As Mr. Boyd's figure assumed more detail than a dot, Viggo realized they weren't going to able to stop him. “Elijah, I need a clean blanket. One of Orlando's flame-proof ones.” Elijah was off. “Everyone focus as best you can! He's coming closer!” Viggo tried one last time to rally as much power as possible. He felt a strong, unexpected surge in their collective telekinetic web and Mr. Boyd's speed was reduced considerably. There was no time to question its origin. Their angelic employer hit the earth not two hundred yards off, and it was time to act. ~ Sean let his arm drop as a small army of thropes rushed past him to the site of Mr. Boyd's fall. He had tried to be subtle about helping, but he thought Viggo might have felt him there in the web. No matter. Viggo was too busy to find him out now. Sean ducked as Elijah rushed past him with the blanket that Viggo ordered him to get. Sean growled a little at the idea of someone being so short with his pure, beautiful 'Lijah. Everyone continued to rush past him as Sean ducked out of the light and back into the house, down to the dungeons. Sean fished the amulet out of his shirt and gazed at its deep purple gem. The spark at the center had grown a bit bigger than the last time he had seen it. *It means that your power is growing.* “I know that.” Sean said testily to the voice that followed him, “I even felt it. I may have saved his life. Now he'll have no choice but to promote me back to the job I once held.” *That is true, but one mustn't look too eager. He may suspect us.* “Yes,” Sean sighed inwardly and descended down the mossy, dank hallway, “I'll have to wait till he's healed somewhat, and conscious enough to listen to me.” Sean wished he wouldn't have to wait. He missed Elijah. *I know. But don't worry. When the time is right, and you reclaim everything that is yours, he will come to you and be yours as well.* “Mine.” Sean smiled wickedly. “Mine.” Sean peered into the Jujuah pen at Phobos and Deimos. The Ophid twins were keeping as still as they could to avoid waking the Jujuah nearby. They were pale and drawn from being in there so long, but Sean smiled nonetheless as one of them gave a sickly, pleading look from within the cage. He was no doubt full of the Jujuah toxins, and for some reason this struck Sean as excessively funny. His chuckle broadened to a maniacal howl as the Jujuah arched in terror to rediscover their intruders and begin their torture yet again. ~ Elijah and Orlando sat outside the good doctor Viggo's simple operating room and twiddled their thumbs. At least, Elijah was twiddling his with a nervous, confused vigor. Orlando wasn't twiddling really, but more munching rapidly. It had been eight solid hours since they had gone in there. Viggo had recruited a few “nurses” from the staff. Elijah thought he and Orlando would have been better choices, but Viggo said they were too close to Mr. Boyd to assist. Elijah harumphed for a half hour, then decided that Viggo was right. Originally, there had been several other thropes there waiting with them. The midget troll from the third floor was very sweet and waited with them about four hours before he had to return to some minor construction. The three dryads had stayed for a while, but they always had and always would feel uncomfortable around Orlando due to a small accident that had happened a few years ago. It really hadn't been Orlando's fault, but one of the dryads was still sporting a knot from where Orlando's marshmallow stick had been cut. Trees didn't tend to forgive easily. Oh well. The crowd had thinned out over the course of the surgery, the most patient being left behind. It seemed unfair to Elijah how often lately he'd found himself waiting here. First Dominic, now Mr. Boyd. Orlando shucked another cellophane wrapper from another sandwich. This would make...Elijah had lost count. “How many of those things do you have in there?” Orlando looked up from his sandwich, a large piece of spinach sticking out of his well- shaped mouth, “Huh?” “Thank you for the front row seat to 'What's in my mouth?'” “Oh, c'mon Lij.” “You've been eating nearly non-stop. I mean, I know your metabolism is huge, but I've *never* seen you eat this much.” Orlando dodged the implicit question, “Do you want some? I've got tuna here somewhere.” He searched the mass of wrappers, “I've got turkey with Swiss, ham with Swiss, ham and turkey with Swiss, steak and Swiss, chicken salad with Swiss-“ “I've never seen you eat Swiss cheese before. I thought you hated it.” “I know,” Orlando looked momentarily confused at his sandwich before shoving the rest of it in his mouth, “Can't seem to get enough of it lately.” “Is there something wrong with you? How are you feeling?” Elijah was almost grateful for the distraction. “I've been fine,” Orlando waved off his friend's concern, “My stomach has been a bit fragile, but hell, if it can't keep up with me, fuck it. It'll be forced to.” Orlando smiled as he chewed. “Well, be careful. You'll ruin your girlish figure.” Orlando gasped with mock surprise, “How dare you. Don't even joke about that.” A couple of new sandwiches were unwrapped, and the door the operating room opened as if on cue. ~ Viggo, poor Viggo emerged and sat down gratefully on the bench next to Elijah. Elijah tried his best not to cringe from blood that covered about ninety-three percent of Viggo's sterile white clothes. He looked as if he'd aged ten years in that room. His whole demeanor was defeated: slouched and huddled as if to hide from the memory of what had just transpired before him. Elijah remembered. *Viggo struggled to climb down into the crater that had formed around their beloved employer's body. Orlando had done well in putting out the flames and Elijah tossed the blanket to Viggo.* *Mr. Boyd was unrecognizable. His face was seared and gone. Several fingers had been burned right to the bone, or were missing completely. His clothes had probably caught fire first and were long gone. And where once his beautiful white wings had been, stumps protruded from his broken body, shredded and incinerated, but somehow, he was breathing. Elijah almost fell to his knees at that point. He almost succumbed to his despair on the spot, but Viggo shouted commands and wrapped what was left of Mr. Boyd in the blanket. With the help of a few able-bodies thropes, they carried their wounded angel down to the infirmary.* “We’ve done everything possible. It’s a miracle that he’s alive, but then again,” Viggo shrugged, “he’s an angel, isn’t he?” The three friends sat in dumbfounded silence. It seemed the only explanation. “Apparently.” Orlando’s words were muffled by turkey. “I wish it wasn’t. There is nothing in any medical book anywhere that says how to treat an angel.” Viggo sighed, defeated. “What about the general stuff? Numbweed works on pretty much anyone.” Viggo nodded, “Yes, it does. I’m just afraid to experiment on him in such a fragile state. I don’t want to…” Viggo choked a little, “…push him over the edge.” “So, what can we do?” Elijah gazed on Viggo with electric blue eyes. “Nothing. I’ll keep researching, but he’ll have to heal himself in the meantime, and,” Viggo swallowed, “he’s lost more blood than I thought his body could hold.” ~ William found himself somewhere inexplicably familiar when he opened his eyes. He looked about him at the pillars and empty doorways leading to everywhere possible. People walked past him in their self-absorbed state of intense thought as well as complete awareness. This was where souls went before they came back again to Earth. It couldn’t be, but it most definitely was the very, very outer edge of heaven. He was home. ~ Thanks for reading! Please email comments to cswann1@gmail.com.