- Complete
- R
Relationship(s):
Warning(s):
- Discussion - Other Trigger Topics
- Kidnapping
- Violence - Canon-Level
- Alternate Universe
- Angst
- First Time
- Romance
Author's Note:
Summary:
Author’s Note: Additional warning: John is subjected to an empathic assault by a guide.
Harold raked his hands through his hair in frustration. Nothing. How could there be nothing? Not even the slightest trace for him to follow. He glared at the screen. His computers were his babies and he treated them accordingly, but right now heâd be happy to throw the useless hunks of metal and wires across the room. John had been missing for over twelve hours and no matter how hard he tried, Harold could not find any sign of him. No one could. Fusco and Carter had come up empty, as had Elias.
Elias was even now scouring the city. He had not been able to find a trace of Johnâs scent after it disappeared a few blocks from where heâd been taken. If John wasnât found soon, Harold knew the cityâs underworld would feel the brunt of Eliasâ anger and grief. He might be a criminal, but he was also a Sentinel, and John was his alpha. Unofficial though it may be, it was also undeniable, and being Johnâs beta was something Elias took seriously. An honor he held dear.
Even now, one of Eliasâ men was standing outside the library keeping guard. Harold did his best to ignore the manâs empathic signature. He knew better than to try to get him to leave; Elias had been determined. Johnâs orders regarding Haroldâs protection had been very clear, apparently.
Harold snorted. Sentinels. Orders John and I will be talking about in great detail when he returns, Harold thought. In Haroldâs opinion Bear was protection enough, surely.
Not even the Machine could find a trace of John. In his desperation, Harold had broken his own rules, risked them all, by using an emergency back door to search for him. The Machine had seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and had done all it could, but to no avail.
Whoever had John had known to keep him away from any cameras, and knew how to cover their tracks. Despite this very troubling, yet telling development, Harold had distressingly few suspects, and still fewer clues.
âIf youâd bonded with him as you are meant to, you would have found him hours ago,â a gently chiding voice reminded him from above.
Harold ignored the flash of guilt and pain at the reminder of his unbonded status. He ignored the reminder his sentinelâs lack of desire for him. The dark, empty place inside his mind seemed to throb, the pain grew in intensity. Harold absently rubbed his temples. It was probably just his imagination. He looked up at Diana. The red tailed hawk perched haughtily on one of the library shelves and glared.
âStop trying to make me feel guilty. John doesnât want us and you know it. We are colleagues and friends thatâs all. I donât see you doing anything to help find him.â
âI know no such thing,â Diana snapped, glaring. Her talons dug into the wood and Harold winced. She was going to leave marks again.
He sighed heavily. This was an old argument. âPlease, I donât have the energy to get into this right now. You can remind me how selfish and idiotic I am later.â He gave her a pleading look.
Diana flapped her wings, uncharacteristically showing her agitation. She turned her back to him, without another word.
Harold felt another stab of guilt; none of this was Dianaâs fault. Harold knew that her inability to find Fidelis, Johnâs spirt guide, was deeply painful for her. The two spirit animals hated to be apart, much to Haroldâs embarrassment and Johnâs amusement.
The fact that Fidelis had not appeared to either of them was a very bad sign indeed. It most likely meant that John was severely incapacitated, perhaps even dead. No Harold told himself. I refuse to believe that. John is alive; he has to be. The alternative was unthinkable
Harold slumped back in his chair, ignoring the pain that flared in his neck and hip. Clearly he had been sitting for too long, and his muscles were stiff. If John were here, he would chide Harold for pushing himself too hard, and remind him to rest. Iâm sorry, John, he thought, I canât stop. His sentinel was missing, and Harold had to find him â or die trying. As a guide, he could do no less.
Sensing his rising distress, Diana flew over, and began grooming his hair in comfort.
Harold knew he was forgiven. âI know you miss them both too,â Harold told her. âWeâll get them back.â
Diana didnât look as certain but she didnât voice her doubts. âWhat are we going to do?â she asked.
Harold sighed. âI think you can guess what I have in mind.â
Diana looked at him worriedly. âI donât think we have any other choice. We have to find him, but it could be very dangerous.â
She was right. There was only one course of action left open to them. A course Harold was loath to take, but for his sentinel he wouldnât hesitate. Heâd been running for too long, it was time to face who and what he really was. He could only hope it wouldnât bring the government-run Sentinel and Guide center right to their door, which was something heâd been avoiding his entire life. However, he was willing to accept the necessary consequences, no matter how unpleasant, as long as John was safe.
With a shaking hand, he reached out and petted Diana, stroking her soft feathers and taking comfort from her nearness. There was one last thing he had to do. He walked back over to the desk and called Detective Fusco.
âGlasses, any news?â Fusco greeted him, the concern evident in his voice. Harold frowned at the nickname and huffed in annoyance. Diana pecked him in amusement. She knew he really didnât mind the other guideâs nickname for him. They both valued Fuscoâs friendship.
Harold did his best to affect his normal brisk and efficient tone. âIâm afraid not, detective, all my usual methods have proven ineffective. I do, however, expect to have some news and hopefully a location very soon. I called to make sure youâd be prepared to provide back up. I donât dare try to find him on my own. We donât know what shape heâll be in.â
Fusco was far more perceptive than most people gave him credit for. He was a high level guide. However, he preferred not to use his gifts. As a result, most people dismissed him out of hand. No one knew better than Harold that underestimating a guide was extremely ill considered.
âWhat are you going to do? How will you find him?â
âThat is none of your concern, just be ready, please, when I call,â Harold said firmly.
âWait, what are you going to do?â Fusco sounded very worried now. âWhat arenât you telling me? Someone has contacted you havenât they. Wait for me! Donât do something stupid, if anything happens to you John is going to have my head.â
âDonât be dramatic detective. I appreciate the concern, but I guarantee you that I am in no danger whatsoever,â Harold assured him
âLiar,â Diana whispered, right in his ear, so softly that he knew Fusco hadnât heard. She was scared, understandably so. He petted her gently offering what comfort he could. She would aid him in this despite the danger. She needed Fidelis just as much as he needed John.
It was clear from his tone that Fusco didnât believe him âHarold, pleaseââ he started, but Harold cut him off.
âJust be ready, please,â he said and he ended the call.
He regretted his treatment of his fellow guide but he couldnât tell anyone what he was about to attempt. Fusco would only try to stop him, or worse, try to help. If this failed, Harold would be the only one who suffered the consequences. And John, he reminded himself, but he pushed the thought aside. John would be fine without him if it came down to it. He has already proven that, Harold thought bitterly. Now, is not the time for this, he chastised himself. Regret was useless. Theyâd both made their choices. All that mattered was that his sentinel lived.
He made sure Bear had food and water, and took a few minutes to pet the distraught dog. âI know, boy, I miss him, too. Iâm going to do my best to bring him home,â he told Bear firmly.
Bear whined and licked his hand, making Harold smile.
He was far too frazzled. If this had a chance of working, he needed to be calm. He needed to eat, but he couldnât imagine keeping anything down. His stomach turned at the mere thought of food. Harold went to make a cup of green tea instead. It would help him relax, and the sugar would give him the energy he needed. Heâd meditate, find his center, and then begin his search. Hang on, John, Iâm coming, he thought. Donât you dare leave me.
****
Harold opened his eyes with a sigh. His attempt to calm himself hadnât been totally successful but he was as centered a he was likely to get under the circumstances. At least the meditation had left him feeling somewhat refreshed. He felt apprehension crawling over his skin; he feared that John was running out of time. He looked over at Diana. The hawk was watching him anxiously. They would share in this task.
âAre you ready?â she asked.
He nodded, but before he could speak, Lionel Fusco came charging into the room. His spirit animal Sasha, a Siberian husky, bounding in after him. Diana flew over and landed on Sashaâs back pecking him in greeting, the two spirit animals began taking quietly.
Harold ignored then and turned his attention to the other man. âDetective, what on Earth are you doing here? We agreed youâd wait for my call,â Harold snapped annoyed. He needed Lionel ready to find John not here babysitting him.
Lionel seemed unperturbed by his anger. âNo, you agreed. I know youâre up to something and whatever it is, itâs dangerous. I may not be able to scan you, but I know when Iâm being lied to. Whatever it is, youâre going to need my help. I can sense it.â
Harold was surprised at the conviction in his voice. Lionel didnât much believe in what he called the voodoo part of being a guide. Lionel preferred to focus on the tangible rather than the spiritual. It was a preference he and Harold shared.
âIâm sorry, Lionel. What Iâm going to attempt is dangerous at best, and very⌠unconventional. If I thought I had a chance of finding him any other way I wouldnât do this.â
âIâm not sure what that means, but I would bet that whatever it is, you shouldnât be doing it on your own. Let me help or I will call Elias. I can drag him away from the search for John to come down here, and try to talk some sense into you, if thatâs what you want,â Fusco said stubbornly.
Harold gritted his teeth, his annoyance increasing. âLionel, Iâm trying to protect you. I have to do this, but you donât. Just leave me be, please.â
âStop trying to send me away. I am not leaving. Got it?â Lionel said forcefully. âI donât need your protection. I want to find John just as much as you do. Heâs my alpha and my friend. What will happen to the city if he isnât around to protect it? I know John trusts Elias, but I donât want him in charge. Do you?â
Harold decided it was best not to answer. He understood Johnâs reasons for choosing Elias to be his second. Although he hadnât agreed at first, he couldnât deny that overall the arrangement worked well, and crime was down to a historic low all over New York City. Even Fusco couldnât argue with the results. He suspected his reasons for professing to distrust Elias were more personal, but it was none of his business.
When Harold didnât answer, Lionel rubbed his hand over his face. Harold didnât need his empathy to know he was frustrated, and exhausted. âHarold, please, you have to trust me.â
Harold felt a tab of sympathy and remorse, his anger draining away. He knew Lionel cared about both him and John. Heâd been awake almost as long as Harold had.
Still he couldnât take the chance of his friend getting hurt; he was going to have to insist, and it would take time for Elias to arrive. Once his task was underway, it would be unlikely anyone would be able to interfere. He just needed to get Lionel out of the way.
Dianaâs voice interrupted his thoughts. âLet him help us, Harold.â
Startled, Harold looked over at her. She met his gaze. âDeep down, you know Iâm right. We need someone to keep an eye on us at the very least.â
Harold closed his eyes. Diana had a point, but the truth was, he was scared. It had been many years since heâd shared this part of himself with anyone. John would have to know, and Harold trusted him implicitly, but he had been hoping to keep this between the two them. If the center ever found out, his life would never be his own again. The old fear of discovery made his stomach twist, but Harold didnât allow it to engulf him. He didnât have the time to fall apart, not now.
Diana flew over to his side, landing on his shoulders. Her claws should have hurt him, but they didnât. Spirit animals could never hurt their human, no one really understood why. He petted her, glad for the comfort she offered. âWe can trust them. I promise. Sasha told me that they felt a need to come here, almost like they were being led to us.â
Harold gave her a small smile when Lionel groaned and glared at the husky. Sasha had no problem sharing information when she decided it was necessary, much to Lionelâs perpetual exasperation.
âAll right,â he agreed, âbut this stays between us. Understood?â
Lionel nodded. âUnderstood. What exactly are you going to do?â
Harold took a deep breath to steady himself. After this, there was no going back. âIâm going to scan for John until I find him.â
Lionel looked puzzled. âThatâs it? I donât understand. There are guides out there looking for him right now. They havenât been able to find a trace of him. If you have a search area why didnât you let anyone else know?â he demanded. Harold was grateful not to be able to feel his anger.
Harold shook his head. âI have no idea where John is, I promise you.â
âThen what are youâŚâ Fusco began.
Harold cut him off. “Let me finish, please. Iâm going to lower my shields and scan for him.”
âHow is that going to help? Heâs nowhere nearby. If he were, we would have found him by now,â Fusco said obviously losing patience. In agitation, he ran his hand through his hair.
Harold met Lionelâs eyes. Please. Donât be afraid of me, he thought. He took a steadying breath. âI believe they might be moving him to avoid the search teams. I have a way to work around that. Iâm going to scan the entire city, all at once.â
As he spoke, he began lowering his shields carefully one by one. It had been so long that they fought him constantly. His mind no longer wished to be unprotected, but Harold was determined, and within minutes only his primary shield was left. He knew his empathic power leaked out even though his shield.
Rather than lower it completely, he opened a door and allowed Lionel to feel his full power for the first time. Harold shuddered as Lionel automatically reached out and gently touched his mind to Haroldâs. It had been a very long time since heâd felt the touch of another guide. It was surprisingly pleasant. Like most guides, Lionel had a soothing presence.
Lionel was gaping in shock.
âHoly shit, youâre an alpha,â he breathed in wonder. âOne of the strongest Iâve ever felt.â He sounded almost reverent and it made Harold extremely uncomfortable. Alpha guides were rare. Alpha guides as powerful as Harold rarer still.
âYou feel amazing,â Lionel said almost dreamily. Sasha made her way over to her guide, butting his hand with her head. Lionel absently petted her in return.
Harold could feel their contentment at being in his presence and he stifled a groan. This reaction was why heâd learned to lock his empathy down in the first place. His potential power over other guides and mundanes alike was difficult for him to accept. Harold hastily closed the door in his shield.
âPlease get yourself under control, Detective,â Harold said sharply.
Lionel jumped as if startled. âIâm sorry. This is going to take some getting used to.â Lionel seemed to be gathering his wits. âI had no idea. I always assumed you were a level one. You should be the pride alpha, my alpha. Why are you hiding from us? Does John know?â His voice rose a bit hysterically at the end.
Even with his primary shield in place, Harold could feel Lionelâs pain. He inwardly flinched. He didnât deserve to be anyoneâs alpha. Instinctively Harold sent out waves of calm and reassurance. He could feel Lionel relax almost instantly. Sasha lay down, and yawned sleepily.
At the reminder of John, the dark place inside him seemed to throb. âThatâs really none of your business, and I wonât discuss it with you.â
Lionel looked like he wanted to argue, but seemed as if he recognized a losing battle when he saw one. He nodded reluctantly, and let the matter drop. âHow do we do this?â he asked.
Harold sensed his determination to succeed, and his desire to help as much as possible. It was a relief to have Lionelâs support. It was surprisingly comforting. Harold was grateful that Lionel didnât ask what they would do if John had been moved beyond their reach.
The simple truth was Harold had no idea.
However, with his empathy in full force, Harold was certain John was in the city. He was also certain this wouldnât be true for much longer, and if the kidnappers got John out of the city, heâd most likely be lost forever. Normally he didnât put much stock in these types of feelings, but this one was too strong to ignore.
Harold sat down and searched deep inside his mind until he found the place where he and his spirit guide were connected. He opened his shield completely, and was overwhelmed by the love and affection pouring of Diana. He had been alone for so long. Tears ran down his cheeks as he reveled in the feeling of renewed closeness between them.
It had been so long since heâd touched her with his mind. Heâd missed her so much. The loss of their connection was like a wound that had never fully healed. Through their connection, he was able to understand how much she had suffered, during their time apart. He was ashamed that heâd never given it much thought until now. His self-imposed isolation had carried a hefty price for both of them.
âIâve missed you, too. Thereâs no time for remorse,â Diana whispered in his mind. âWe both made this choice, and itâs kept us safe. Sometimes sacrifices are necessary.â
âThank you,â he sent back with all the gratitude and love he possessed.
He felt their connection intensify. Diana added her strength to his own, and he tentatively reached out with his mind, scanning the people nearby. Despite the long years of inactivity, he knew he could scan everyone for several blocks in any direction without trouble. The whole city, however, would strain even his considerable power
The feeling of so many minds pressing down on him was excruciatingly painful; they were so loud, and a cacophony of emotions filled his mind. There was so much input, he wasnât sure how to begin sorting it out, but he knew he had to, for Johnâs sake.
The temptation to retreat was strong, but he forced himself to continue. Working together, he and Diana found a way to bring order to the chaos. Heâd been worried that after so long he would become lost in the minds he touched, overrun by the sheer volume of emotion, but he managed to stay focused. Using the lightest mental touch he could, he stretched his senses further and further out, looking for the beloved mental presence that was uniquely Johnâs.
****
Lionel watched in amazement as Harold proceeded to scan the city of New York. He could hardly believe it was happening. Harold gasped in pain, and instinctively Lionel reached out to soothe his alpha, because no matter what Harold claimed, Lionel had recognized his alpha instantly.
Sasha nipped his hand gently. âNo donât break his concentration. He doesnât need us yet.â
Lionel now understood why heâd needed to be here today. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Suddenly, Diana began to fade away, becoming almost transparent. A shocked gasp escaped him. Lionel had never seen a spirit guide lose their corporeal form. In fact, hadnât even known such a thing was possible. It was an incredible sight.
He looked down at Sasha in question, but she looked as bewildered as he felt. âI canât be sure but I think they are sharing energy,â she said. âIt takes energy for us to hold this form and I think sheâs funneling as much as she can into Harold.â
Sweat began to run down Haroldâs face, and he grimaced with pain but he didnât open his eyes. More time passed, and he grew pale and swayed. He was weakening. Acting on an instinct Lionel didnât understand, he closed his eyes and pushed his empathic power toward Harold, offering it. At first, nothing happened, but then Lionel began to feel Harold siphoning off his power in short bursts. He had never felt anything like it in all his years of training. Heâd known Harold for years, trusted him, but this level of power was terrifying. He lost all sense of time.
Then he heard Haroldâs voice. The sound knocked him out of his meditative state. Haroldâs voice was filled with triumph, relief and a great deal of anger. âI found him â
Lionel felt incredibly drained, exhaustion clawed at him. I could sleep for a month, he thought. How was Harold even conscious? Harold was pale and shaking, but when Lionel looked into Haroldâs eyes, they were alert. He shivered at what he saw there. He almost pitied Johnâs kidnappers when Harold was done with them. Almost.
Harold stood up from the floor and swayed in exhaustion. Lionel reached out and caught him, with the detectiveâs help, he managed to remain upright. Sweat soaked his skin; he felt as if heâd run a marathon. Unfortunately, there was no time to rest. The need to rescue John was so intense that he didnât even try to fight it.
âHeâs on Staten Island. The kidnappers are holding him in an abandoned house.â Harold rattled off the address heâd found in the kidnapperâs mind. âHeâs been taken by a woman named Kara Stanton, an old partner of his. She a corrupt guide and therefore sheâs extremely dangerous. Tell all the search teams to be exceedingly cautious.â
He heard Lionel gasp. Corrupt was the worst thing anyone could say about a guide. Kara Stanton was a threat to everyone around her. A corrupt guide had the power to twist a personâs mind and use their emotions against them. Under the influence of corrupt guides, people had been known to commit acts of violence, or even in rare cases, go completely insane.
âI could barely feel Johnâs mind against my own. He was unconscious. Heâs probably going to need medical assistance. Call Will and have him meet us there.â
Harold tried not to think about how John had felt. The vibrant mind Harold had only allowed himself to touch once before had been subdued, as if John hadnât been entirely present. It had been terrifying. He feared John was already slipping away from him. He needed to get to John as soon as possible.
Lionel led him over to his computer chair, and then made the call to Elias. âEveryoneâs on their way. The closest team is 15 minutes out,â he reported briskly. âWeâre going to get John back,â he said, and there was a surprising amount of real conviction in his voice.
Harold could feel Lionelâs satisfaction that they had a location and his desire for vengeance, but Harold felt only relief at finally having found his sentinel. Heâd been somewhat shocked to learn Kara Stanton was now an online guide. It was unfortunate sheâd come online at all.
Lionelâs voice broke into his thoughts. âListen, Harold, I think you should stay here,â he said carefully.
Harold was shocked. âThere is no way Iâm not going with you. John needs me; I have to be with him,â he said. He locked gazes with Lionel. He wanted no misunderstandings. He would not be swayed.
Lionel looked at him pleadingly. âBe reasonable. I understand you want to hurt the people who took John, I feel the same, but itâs not worth it if it kills you. You can hardly stand, and Diana is fast asleep. Youâre not in any condition to go up against a corrupt guide, alpha or not.â
Harold sighed. Lionel didnât understand. He didnât care about vengeance; all he really cared about was John.
How much had he suffered alone with Kara for so many hours? Harold shivered as he remembered the feel of her rotting, damaged mind against his. A guide as sick as Kara would never be able to bond, but that didnât mean she didnât have the same need that all guides did for a bond with a sentinel. As angry as he was, the thought of killing her made his stomach turn. If she hadnât taken John, Harold would have pitted the poor woman.
Still, she would need to be stopped. The sad truth was that Kara was like a rabid animal. Her disease wasnât really her fault, but she had to be put down before she did irreparable damage to those around her. Sheâd clearly hurt John in some way.
For that she would pay, and Harold couldnât bring himself to regret her probable death. He had no wish to kill anyone, but he would do what was necessary. Still, it was a relief to know that if she survived their encounter, her ultimate fate wouldnât be his to decide. The final decision would fall to John.
âLionel, thatâs enough,â he said calmly, and he put just a little of his guide power into his voice to bring the point home.
Lionelâs shoulders slumped and he nodded in defeat.
âAs for Ms. Stanton, Iâm not really concerned about her power or her ultimate fate,â Harold admitted somewhat reluctantly. âShe is no match for me; itâs a simple fact. Once we get John back, sheâll be taken care of, but her fate wonât be my concern.â
Lionel look surprised. âActually, Harold, as the alpha guide of the territory, it will ultimately be your decision. Whether she lives or not. Unless you want to go back to pretending youâre a low level guide. Back to hiding, in which you can raise your shield, and you have my word this will stay between us. No one ever needs to know.â
Harold froze. Good God, Lionel was right. This was the moment he had always dreaded, but deep down heâd known the day would come. He remembered what it had been like to feel her once again. He remembered how incredible Johnâs mind had felt against his own. Could he live his whole life without ever feeling that again? Could he live with the loneliness? Harold found he didnât even have to think about his decision. He was so incredibly tired of being afraid. So tired of being alone.
I want John, if heâll have me, he thought longingly. Decision finally made, Harold felt relief and acceptance sweep over him. He knew this was right. Only Johnâs absence kept him from really feeling the wonder and joy of the moment. Beside him, Diana let out a joyous and triumphant screech. She had been right all along, he acknowledged.
His attention turned back to Lionel, and he favored the man with a small smile. âYouâre correct, of course. Letâs go. Iâll rest in the car on the way.â He knew he wouldnât sleep, but Lionel didnât need to know that.
Lionel couldnât hide his grin. He clearly didnât believe Harold. âYes, Alpha, whatever you say.â Lionel radiated joy; there was no other word for it.
Harold merely glared at him and called for Bear. However, he did graciously allow Lionel to help him down to the car.
****
The ride out to Staten Island seemed interminable. Harold surprised himself by drifting in an out of a doze, but it didnât help. He needed several hours of real rest to regain his strength. By the time they arrived, there were already several sentinel and guide pairs on the scene, as well as Elias and a few of his goons.
What were they doing out here? He quickly made his way toward the beta. âMr. Elias, Why havenât you gone in yet?â Harold demanded furiously.
He saw the moment the other Sentinel realized he was an Alpha; he stopped short for a moment, obviously shocked, but to his credit he didnât allow himself to become distracted. Elias quickly refocused on the matter at hand. Harold knew there would be many questions. If he were lucky, John would be the one who had to answer them.
Elias completely ignored Fusco and addressed Harold. âThe first team on the scene tried to go in and get him, despite not being a rescue team. When they got close, Stanton attacked them and empathically took out two of the guides instantly. They dropped to the floor, out cold as soon as they came into contact with her. As a result, she also incapacitated their sentinels. They almost went feral when their guides went down.â
Elias looked as angry as Harold felt. It radiated off him in waves. âDespite the urgency of the situation, I was reluctant to send anyone else in,â he admitted.
Harold nodded in acceptance. âIâm sorry, Elias. You did the right thing.â
This situation was getting worse. He had to put a stop to it. Harold was furious his people had been attacked.
âTheyâll be fine. Theyâve already regained consciousness. Sheâs not strong enough to do permanent damage, apparently. Elizabeth Burke reported Stanton is probably a level 4. Staton wants to talk to you. She promises she wonât hurt John or anyone else, if youâll surrender to her.â
Beside him Lionel shouted, âWhen pigs fly!â Sasha growled menacingly.
Harold put a calming hand on his arm. âDonât worry, Lionel. Iâm not going to give her a chance to take another hostage.â
Elias looked relieved. âIâm surprised but very pleased, to hear you say that. I thought I was going to have to knock you out to keep you from going in there.â
Harold snorted in disbelief. As if he would have allowed anyone to keep him from rescuing John. Elias clearly still underestimated him, as did Ms. Stanton. She clearly had no idea of his true power. He did not have the time or patience for this. If heâd been at full strength, heâd have been able to take her down without a problem, however, in his current state, he would need help. He wasnât going to allow this woman to spend one more moment with John than necessary, and heâd be damned if heâd negotiate with her.
âElias, I need all available guides here now. I have an idea how we can take her down.â
Elias looked like he wanted to question the order, but there was no doubt who was in charge. One look at Haroldâs face and he went to gather the other guides without a word.
âWhat are you planning, Alpha?â Lionel asked. There was not a hint of irony in his voice.
Harold stifled a groan. Heâd never have thought heâd miss hearing the detective call him Glasses, but suddenly those seemed like the good old days.
âI could normally take her on easily, but Iâm empathically exhausted right now. However, I think if I channel the power of all the guides present, I can direct it and shut her down. Hopefully without any more injuries or loss of life.â
âYouâre going to channel their power, the way you did mine,â Lionel said. It wasnât a question.
Harold nodded. âIâve only done it with one other person, the shaman who trained me, but in theory, a group shouldnât be much more difficult. How did you know to let me use your power by the way? It might help me show the others how to do it.â
Lionel shrugged. âIt was pure instinct; my alpha was suffering and needed my help. I opened my mind to you and sort of pushed my empathic power toward you. You did the rest.â
That answer brought up some interesting possibilities. âYou did it because I was your alpha, and I had need of it? Are you sure?â Harold asked seeking clarification. Could it really be that simple?
âLike I said, it was instinct but I think so.â
Harold saw the guides working their way towards him, their sentinels following protectively at their sides. It was time to shut Kara down; it was time to bring John home. She would never have the chance to hurt anyone again.
****
Harold woke up with a pounding headache and his mouth felt dry. What had happened? Where was he? He was so groggy. He tried to focus his eyes but everything was blurry. He closed his eyes again and groaned. Diana was lying next to him asleep. He reached out and petted her but she didnât stir. That was strange.
âEasy there,â a voice said softly, the tone gentle. âYouâve been out for more than a day. Take it slow.â
He recognized that voice. âWill?â he croaked and tried to clear his throat. âWill,â he managed to speak more loudly.
âYeah, Uncle Harold, itâs me. Iâm so happy to see youâre finally awake. Weâve all been so worried.â
âWhat happened?â Harold demanded. What was going on? He was forgetting something important? What was it? His head was so fuzzy. He couldn’t make his brain work. It was terrifying. He focused on Will’s voice, it was familiar and soothing. It calmed him somewhat.
âYouâve been unconscious. Youâre going to be fine. Do you know where you are?â Will asked quietly.
What? Unconscious? What had happened? Why couldnât he remember? Will isnât making any sense, Harold thought confused. Abruptly, his eyes felt heavy, like they were lined with lead, and he couldnât keep them open. They slid closed against his will, and he drifted back to sleep.
When he woke again, Haroldâs head was much clearer and he remembered everything that happened. Diana was nowhere to be found. Where was she?
He sat up, looked around, and realized he was in one of the unused rooms in the library; it had been cleaned out and a mini hospital set up. He was in a hospital bed, and he had all the standard equipment attached to him, including an IV. But where was John? He was absolutely certain John had been alive when Harold had rescued him on Staten Island. Why wasnât he here with Harold? He had to be all right. It was the only thing that mattered.
The memory of what heâd done rose up even though he tried to push it away. He remembered what it had felt like to shut Kara Stantonâs mind down â to feel her emotions and thoughts abruptly stop â and shuddered. He silently prayed to a God he wasnât even sure he believed in that heâd never have to do anything like that ever again.
Afterwards, heâd blacked out, his body finally giving in to the utter exhaustion. Heâd definitely pushed too hard. His primary shield had been in shreds. It must have mended while he was unconscious, because he wasnât getting any input at the moment.
Will entered the room. He looked relieved to see Harold awake and sitting up. âHey, youâre awake again? Do you know where you are?â
âThe Library,â Harold answered. âWhereâs Diana?â he asked worried for his spirit animal.
Will smiled. âThatâs good. You were pretty out of it the last couple of times youâve been awake. Donât worry, sheâs with some of the other spirit guides. She suffered no ill effects from your little stunt. Prepare yourself for a stern lecture though.â Will sounded amused. âSheâs been by your side constantly, and I thought she could use a break. Do you remember what happened to you?â
âYes, I remember everything. I took down Kara Stanton and saved John. Where is John?â
Will ignored the question, much to Haroldâs frustration. He was so tired of waiting to find out where John was. âLet me check you over, and then weâll talk,â he said, radiating authority.
It made Harold smile. He had always been so proud of Will. Only because it was Will did Harold agree. He impatiently waited through the entire exam.
âWell, Iâm glad to see youâre doing reasonably well. That was quite a stunt you pulled. You had us all worried, Uncle Harold.â
Will hesitated little too long. There was more, Harold realized. Something was very wrong. What was it Will was hiding? A horrible thought occurred to him. Surely, John couldnât be dead. He tried not to panic. If no one would tell him, perhaps he could find out for himself. Harold tried to discretely scan Will, and found a black hole where Willâs mind should be.
His head throbbed. He ignored the pain, and anxiously reached out and tried to search for John with his mind, but all he felt was intense pain. Then he realized that beyond the pain there was nothing. The world around him seemed empty and devoid of life. He tried to read Will again, and he struggled to catch his breath, as the pain spiked. He couldnât feel anyone. He gasped and fell back against the pillows. What the hell? Harold valiantly tried not to panic, but he felt himself beginning to lose control.
âWhat is going on? I canât feel you. I canât feel John.â He felt the panic heâd been fighting off take hold. Cutting himself off deliberately was one thing, but this was something else. His empathic abilities had disappeared. He felt empty, like a vital part of had been ripped away.
âWhatâs wrong with me?â he demanded, His voice sounded harsh in his own ears. He could hear his desperation leaking out.
Will sighed. âYour empathic pathways are damaged. Donât worry, youâll recover. Youâve already healed some, believe it or not,â he said in his most reassuring tone. The one every doctor perfected.
Harold took several deep breaths. He was hanging by a thread but he knew he had to stay calm. âHow did this happen?â he asked impatiently. He needed answers now.
Will scoffed. âHow? Let me explain it to you. Despite the fact that you were already exhausted, you decided to take on a corrupted, unstable guide. You channeled massive amounts of power through your already taxed empathic pathways. You are stupidly lucky you didnât fry your brain permanently!â he barked, voice echoing unpleasantly in his head.
âOw, please donât yell.â Harold rubbed his temples. He stifled the urge to roll his eyes, surely that was overstating the case a bit. Heâd known what he was doing. He dismissed that for now. Will said he was recovering, and that was good enough for the moment. He wanted to know where his sentinel was.
Then he remembered. âAre the other guides all right?â he asked concerned. Had he hurt them? His stomach twisted.
Will nodded. âTheyâre fine. They were tired but suffered no other ill effects.â He spoke more gently.
Harold really looked at Will for the first time. He looked tired and there were bags under his eyes. His nephew was exhausted. It had clearly been a stressful time for him.
âIâm sorry, kid. I didnât know this would happen. Please, I need to know where John is.â
Will hesitated again, clearly reluctant to speak. He looked at Harold measuring. Harold felt fear and adrenaline rush through his body. What was going on?
âWhy wonât you tell me where John is?â he demanded sharply. He knew something was horribly wrong. His heart began to beat frantically, and he felt light headed. The machine next to him began to beep urgently.
Will looked at the machine in alarm. âYour heart is racing. Try to calm down. Take some slow deep breaths.â
Diana came flying into the room, calling Haroldâs name. She landed on the bed rail, and Harold immediately reached out for her. He lamented that he could not feel her emotions. It had only been a short time since heâd regained their connection, but he already missed it.
âJust tell me,â Harold demanded. âOr I swear Iâll get out of this bed and find him myself,â he threatened. Nothing would stop him
Will took a deep breath. Harold could hear the worry in his tone when he spoke. âOkay. I want you to prepare yourself it isnât good news.â He met Haroldâs gaze unflinchingly. Yet he said nothing else.
Harold glared and pulled back the sheet. He began an attempt to get out of bed. Will reached out and put a hand on his arm firmly, stopping Haroldâs admittedly feeble attempt at escape.
âJohnâs in a coma,â Will finally admitted gently. âI had one of my assistants scan him. Although, the EEG shows brain activity, Guide Watson reports receiving no input from him. Watson should have picked up some emotions at the very least. Heâs shut himself down completely and no one has been able to reach him. â
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Haroldâs whole world came crashing down around his ears.
****
Harold rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. He was at his wits end. He was sitting by Johnâs bedside, as he done every day since theyâd brought John home. Theyâd moved him to one of the safe houses and set up a temporary hospital. Elias had insisted on the increased security, and Harold hadnât disagreed. Johnâs safety was his top priority.
Harold was finally healed. His empathic power was pretty much back to normal, which meant that even with his primary shield up, and he could still feel the emotions of everyone around him pressing down on him. He had a nearly constant headache.
Members of the pride constantly surrounded him, and he felt as if he never had a momentâs peace. He knew they hovered out of concern for both their alphas, but it was becoming more than Harold could bear. The solution was obvious, but he didnât even consider raising even one of his secondary shields, he didnât want to take the chance heâs miss even a flicker of emotion from John.
The only thing keeping him from going completely insane was that he had been able spend almost all his time with John. Being close to his sentinel, touching him, seeing he was still alive, gave him a lifeline, and helped keep him calm.
Harold ran his hand over Johnâs hair. It felt soft against his fingers. âYou have to wake up, John. I need you. I was an idiot, I know. I should have told you how I felt, taken a chance, but I thought I was protecting you. I did some really idiotic and dangerous things to save you. Iâve been told repeatedly I could have died. Youâd be furious. Wake up and yell at me, please.â
There was no response from John, of course. He could admit he was disappointed. Waiting was getting increasingly difficult. Oh John, Harold thought, please help me be strong. His eyes watered and he felt tears running done his cheeks.
Diana rubbed her head against his. Hers were the only emotions Harold could stand; feeling her inside his mind, was a constant source of security.
âHeâll be okay, youâll see. You just have to have faith,â Diana whispered to him confidently.
âHow can you still have so much hope, thereâs been no sign of Fidelis,â Harold pointed out a bit harshly.
Diana pecked him gently in reproof. âI know heâs out there somewhere. I donât have to see him to know itâs true. Both he and John will come back to us, I can feel it. We have to be patient, and in the meantime, weâll take good care of him.â Harold and Diana had taken care of all of Johnâs needs themselves. He had turned down the offer of a nurse. It was the least he could do for their sentinel.
Harold shrugged helplessly. âIâm sorry. I know you miss them as well. Iâm going to do my best to believe. I just canât help but think I donât deserve someone as wonderful as John. What if Iâm being punished for my selfishness?â
Diana waved her wings in agitation. âDonât you say that, ever! You are an amazing man. Youâve done so much for people. Weâve made mistakes, thatâs true, but donât we deserve to be punished. Tell me, is John being punished, too?â
âOf course not,â Harold said shocked.
Diana didnât bother to respond she had made her point. Then she made the sound Harold recognized as a laugh.
âWhat?â Harold asked curiously.
âI was just thinking, if he saw us, heâd say we were using him as an excuse to hide.â
Harold laughed in surprise. âHeâd be right, of course.â He petted Diana to comfort them both.
Harold felt Lionel enter the room, and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes.
Lionel placed his hand on Haroldâs shoulder, and Harold got a blast of his emotions, even through the fabric of his suit. He managed not to flinch.
âStill nothing?â Lionel asked. It wasnât really a question
âIâm afraid not. Every time I touch his mind, I hit a brick wall. He isnât giving off any emotions and heâs not having dreams. Thereâs just nothing there. The EEG continues to indicate brain activity. I canât explain it.â Harold ran his hand over his face wearily before returning his gaze to Lionel. He knew Lionel wouldnât disturb him if it wasnât important.
Lionel nodded sadly. âIâm sorry to bother you, but it canât be helped. Two things. One, the latest number came in. Carter is working it. I thought youâd want to know.â
Harold nodded, and felt a pang of guilt that he hadnât given the Machine or the irrelevant list any thought.
âSecond, Peter Burke is here and heâs requesting permission to speak with you. I tried to put him off, but heâs insisting.â
Harold didnât really want to talk to anyone, but heâd decided to take on the role of Alpha, and heâd do his duty. Itâs what John would want. âAll right, let me get cleaned up. Ask him to wait.â He got up slowly ignoring the pain and stiffness in his body. He had never felt so old.
****
Peter Burke was waiting for him in the living room. The handsome FBI agent was a strong sentinel and a good man. Harold had always liked him. His thoughts tended to be quiet he didnât broadcast very much; Harold had discovered that he really appreciated that about him. His barn owl, Socrates, was sitting on one of the perches Harold had installed for Diana.
âAgent Burke, what can I do for you?â He gestured for the other man to sit on the sofa, and Harold took the chair opposite, wearily sinking into it.
âIâm sorry to bother you, sir. How is Alpha Reese doing?â Burke asked with concern once they were both comfortable. Burke didnât try to shake his hand and he got right down to business, two other very good traits as far as Harold was concerned.
âHe is still the same, unfortunately. Thereâs been no improvement since he started breathing on his own. I really have no explanation, no one does, but I suspect you already knew that, Agent Burke.â
Burke smiled. âYes, sir. Iâm sorry to hear thereâs been no improvement. I know you must be tired, Guide Finch, so Iâll get right to the point,â Burke said, forthright as always. The man was nothing if not efficient.
âIâm here to talk to you about Alpha Reese. I canât continue to hide his condition from the S and G center for much longer. Given Reeseâs already long absence, the head of the New York Center is starting to get suspicious. It wonât be long before we have the government crawling all over us.â
Harold heaved a sigh. He knew Burke was right. An alpha almost never left his territory for more than a week; Johnâs absence was going to draw attention very soon. Sentinels and guides werenât slaves, but their movements were watched closely by the government.
âIf the center finds out his condition, theyâll take him into protective custody. I wonât allow it,â Harold said firmly. He ignored the fear that roiled in his gut at the thought. âWe both know theyâll never accept Carl Elias as the cityâs alpha. Theyâll try to install someone loyal to them. That would be bad for everyone.â
The government had already taken too much from John. Harold would not allow them the chance to ever do it again. Heâd take John out of the country if it came down to it. He began making plans.
Burke nodded, seemingly oblivious to the direction of Haroldâs thoughts, but Harold wasnât fooled. Burke had caught the spike in his heartbeat, he was sure.
âThatâs true. But with all due respect, sir, you may not have a choice. Thereâs no denying the government likes to keep us on as short a leash as possible. If theyâve discovered weâve been lying to them, there will be consequences. My first loyalty is to my alphas, and the pride. But I have to work within the system or Iâll be no good to any of us. I have to do whatâs right for the entire pride.â
Harold understood that the politics of this situation had to be handled carefully. âI donât doubt your loyalty, Peter. What would you suggest as the best course of action?â
âBeta Elias and I have talked, and I think weâve come up with a cover story the center will buy. I can give you 24 maybe 48 hours more, but thatâs stretching it. If he wakes up by then, problem solved, if not Iâll have to take him in.â
âI appreciate you letting me know, Peter, and giving me a couple more days. I know you have to walk a very fine line. I promise to remand John into your custody in two days if necessary,â Harold lied easily.
Peter raised his eyebrow and it was the only indication heâd caught the lie but he didnât comment on it. âI appreciate that, sir,â he said blandly.
Once Peter had left, Harold allowed Lionel to force him to eat something. He knew he had to keep up his strength. He suspected heâd have to get used to the other guide mothering him. Fusco seemed to think of himself as Haroldâs protector, and he didnât have the heart to put a stop to it. Then he took up his vigil by Johnâs bedside once again.
âI wonât let them take you from me,â he promised. âJohn,â he whispered, âplease come back to me soon. I canât do this alone. I’m so afraid.â One way or another, they were running out of time. When the tears came, he allowed them to fall.
****
Time ticked away in the back of Haroldâs mind as he waited for their lives to implode. He hadnât wasted any times making plans for his and Johnâs departure. He felt terrible for abandoning the pride, but John was his first priority. He couldnât allow John to spend the rest of whatever time he had left in the governmentâs clutches. Whatâs worse, as they werenât officially bonded yet, they wouldnât even allow Harold to go with him. John would disappear down a dark hole, and while Harold had no doubt he could find him again, it was best to avoid the situation altogether.
âWhat do you think, John?â he murmured to his sentinel as he finished shaving him. âIâve always loved Italy, and I have an alias that has Italian citizenship.â
âYouâre leaving arenât you?â said a voice evenly from behind him, and Harold jumped startled. He belatedly realized that Will had entered the room; heâd been so preoccupied that heâd pushed the emotional feedback from Will into the background. He set the razor on the nightstand by the bed.
Will had noticed. âYou didnât realize I was here,â he said surprised. âDid you raise another shield?â
Harold shook his head. âNo, I sensed you, but I must have subconsciously recognized you, and ignored your emotions. Iâve never been able to do that before.â
âThatâs fascinating. You might be growing accustomed to the constant emotional feedback. Similar to when people stop hearing familiar noises or go nose blind to constant smells. Or it might be some sort of defense mechanism. Human beings are remarkably adaptable.â He sounded intrigued and excited.
Harold did not like the look in Willâs eyes. He saw where this was going. âStop looking at me like Iâm some sort of shiny new toy, kid. Whatever you have brewing in that mind of yours, the answer is no,â Harold said decisively.
âOh come on, Uncle Harold. Weâll have plenty of time to kill when we get wherever weâre going. Just a few tests couldnât hurt,â Will said in a teasing tone.
Harold felt a pang of alarm. âWhat are you talking about? You have a life here, you arenât going anywhere. I wonât let you ruin your life for us.â
âThereâs no way youâre turning John over to the center, and thereâs no way Iâm abandoning my patient. So I am going with you, end of story, old man. Besides youâre the only family I have left. â Harold could feel the strength of Willâs resolve. He would not be turned from this path easily.
Haroldâs heart swelled with affection. Will had grown into such a good man. He wanted to decline, but he knew he shouldnât dismiss the offer out of hand. It would be helpful to have someone he trusted along. With the help, they might be able to make this work.
âThank you, Will. Iâll agree, but with a couple of conditions. First off, it isnât forever. Youâll take a leave of absence. We can make it look like youâve gone back to work for Doctors Without Borders in some remote area, preferably one without reliable cell or Internet service. You need to stay safe.â He let Will feel his own determination to keep him out of danger.
Will looked startled, but he quickly regained his equilibrium and began to speak, but Harold held up his hand.
âOne last thing, I pay you a very good salary for your services.â
Will shook his head. âI canât let you do that,â he protested.
âItâs non-negotiable. If youâre going to be taking are of John, Iâll pay you what you deserve. I donât want you to suffer in any way for my mistakes. Take it or leave it.â
Will looked disgruntled but nodded. âIâm not happy about it, but I guess I donât have much choice. Iâll get ready to go into hiding,â Will said lightly.
âGood. We leave in about 36 hours. Will? Iâm so proud of you, and your father would be, too.â Harold felt tears burning in his eyes. He squeezed them shut for a moment. When he had himself under control, he looked at Will.
Will was the first to reach out, and Harold accepted the hug. He was pleased when the rush of Willâs emotions was easier to tolerate. Perhaps he was adapting? If so, it would be a huge relief. It was an unexpected but welcome surprise to realize his body was adjusting to his abilities.
Will turned to go but his words were echoing in Haroldâs mind. âGoing into hidingâ heâd said. Diana had mentioned them hiding too. Harold felt a twinge of guide intuition, and his gut twitched. It let him know he was on the right track. There was something there if only he could grasp it. His usually lighting quick mind was slow from exhaustion and stress.
Finally it clicked. What if John was hiding?
Harold had been such an idiot, how could he not have seen?
âWill!â he shouted. âCome here!â
Will came back and stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised in inquiry.
âHeâs hiding,â Harold said urgently.
âWhat?â Will asked, clearly confused and somewhat alarmed. âDo you feel sick? Are you in pain?â he demanded hurriedly.
Harold shook his head forcefully. He could feel himself almost vibrating with impatience and excitement. He was going to get his Sentinel back!
âThink about it⌠he was alone and vulnerable. He had a corrupt guide tried to force a bond on him. That bitch tried to rape his mind, so John did the only thing he could, he shut himself down and protected his mind. He erected a wall around it, and heâs hiding.â
That might explain why Fidelis had disappeared as well. Neither of them could spare the energy for Fidelis to manifest himself. It was a good a theory as any. Iâm so sorry, John, he thought. I should have seen.
Will seemed amused. âIâve never heard you swear before, Uncle Harold. I think I like it.â
Harold glared at him. It was not the time for jests. John was still waiting for him, and Harold was unforgivably late.
âOk, sorry.â Will looked suitably contrite. âIâve never heard of a sentinel doing that, but letâs say for the moment that youâre right. Heâs safe now, so why hasnât he woken up,â Will asked in a more serious tone.
The answer was obvious to Harold. âHe doesnât know heâs safe. He doesnât realize itâs time to come home.â Haroldâs voice broke and the guilt he felt threatened to overwhelm him. He had let his sentinel down, again.
Diana came flying in from the living room where Harold had sent her to spend some time with Sasha and a few of the other animals.
âHarold, whatâs wrong? I can feel itâs something about John and Fidelis.â she asked urgently. The downside of their resurgent connection, Harold reflected, was that absolutely nothing ever got past her.
Harold filled her in, and she flapped her wings in excitement.
âWe have to go get him. Let them know itâs safe right now. He must be so scared.â Even if he couldnât show himself, Fidelis would never abandon John. He would be watching him form the spirit plane, no doubt.
âWait a minute, go in to get them? How are you going to do that? You just almost died!â Will sounded frantic.
Harold sent out calming waves. âI know youâre worried and that you want to protect me, but youâre a mundane. You canât really understand what this means to me. I have to try, I donât have a choice. Asking me not to do this is like asking me to stop breathing or to cut off my arm.â
Will visibly flinched. Not being a sentinel or guide had always bothered him. Heâd wanted to follow in his fatherâs footsteps.
âIâm sorry,â Harold said. He hadnât meant to hurt Willâs feelings. âI was just making a point.â
âDo you even know what you have to do?â Will asked quietly.
âIâm not technically a shaman, but given my raw power, Iâve received a lot of the same training. I witnessed my teacher enter a traumatized manâs mind. He was in a catatonic state, and my teacher was able to bring him back. He explained the process to me. It was one of the most amazing things Iâve ever seen. It also scared me to death.â
He felt Willâs rising sympathy and awe. âUncle Harold. Iâve never heard of a guide doing something like that. I donât really know what to say.â
Harold sighed. âIâve never wanted this kind of power, and Iâve been running from it for a long time. This is only the second time it has ever seemed like a blessing, and Iâm going to use it. End of discussion,â he said with absolute certainty. He would let no one stop him.
****
Unfortunately it wasnât the end. Will, never one to give in, called in backup. As a result, Harold spent a precious hour arguing with Lionel and Elias. It was surreal to see the two men fighting on the same side for once. Iâm so glad I could bring them together, Harold thought sarcastically. They understood his need to save his sentinel, but they were determined to keep Harold safe. It was incredibly annoying.
Harold remained implacable in his resolve. When the argument began to dissolve into a shouting match, he finally lost his patience. âI let you have your say out of respect, but enough is enough. This is happening. Do what you need to do to satisfy yourselves Iâll be safe, but I am doing this, nothing any of you say will stop me.â
No one looked happy, but they agreed, and Harold left to prepare. He went to sleep for six precious hours because he needed to be well rested and have his mind clear. Then he ate a light meal, and meditated. Heâd forgotten how much easier it was with his connection to Diana open and healthy. She helped him find his center far more quickly than heâd been able to in the past.
He consented to allowing Fusco and Elizabeth Burke to monitor him, and finally he was ready. This time he was bringing John home for good, or heâd die trying.
âWe can do this,â Diana whispered for his ears alone. âRemember to have faith.â
Harold nodded. He would try. Theyâd decided Diana would be staying behind if possible. He wasnât sure if heâd drag her in with him. âIf you arenât there with me, I promise Iâll bring John back to us.â
He lay down next to John on the bed, and placed his hand against the side of his head. He felt out with is empathy and reached for Johnâs mind. He hit the wall as heâd done so many times before, but this time he didnât turn away. He focused on projecting himself into Johnâs mind, just as he would when he was entering the spirit plane. He pushed his astral self along the bridge his empathy had created between them. He slid into Johnâs mind with surprising ease, almost as if John sensed Harold meant him no harm. The thought eased a bit of Haroldâs guilt and renewed his hope this would work. He had to trust John.
He opened his eyes and found himself face to face with a brick wall. It represented the barrier John had erected around his mind. Harold new a lot of what heâd see and hear on the other side would be symbolic; there might be obstacles heâd have to overcome, but he was determined. He hoped that John would ease his way through once he realized it was Harold trying to find him and not Kara Stanton.
He looked at the wall; it appeared solid. It also seemed to go on for miles in both directions. Acting on instinct, he touched the wall and projected feelings of safety. He let John feel all his love, and how much Harold missed him, needed him. After several moments, he felt something give way in Johnâs mind. He pushed harder, and in response, the wall in front of him seemed to shimmer, and then the part of disappeared completely.
Harold wasnât really all that surprised. He moved through the wall and found himself standing on a city street. Harold recognized the location immediately and smiled. Of course, John would hide in New York. It was his territory, his city to protect, and no one loved New York City more than John.
Harold realized he was only a few blocks from the library; could it really be that simple? He tried not to think about what it meant that Johnâs safe place was the library. He couldnât become distracted. There was always the danger of losing his way. Harold took a deep breath. He had to focus on the task at hand. He turned down the street, walking toward the library.
Suddenly, there was a large White Siberian tiger standing in his path. The animal was majestic in its beauty but it was currently growling and showing off its big teeth. Fidelis! Despite his less than warm welcome, Harold was overjoyed to see Johnâs spirit animal.
âFidelis,â he said softly, âitâs Harold. Iâm not going to hurt you. Iâm here to find John.â
Fidelis didnât answer, and instead he growled like his true animal counterpart might. Ah just a representation of John then. A protector of sorts, Harold thought, more than a little disappointed. Would they ever see Fidelis again? Had he been damaged somehow? Harold forced himself not to think the worst. There was no time to become distracted, he needed to focus.
He needed to find a way to make it past; he reached out and slowly held out his hands projecting as much positive emotion as he could. As he did so, the animal stopped growling and stared at him curiously. Then he sniffed him, and abruptly relaxed. The tiger reached out with his big tongue and licked Haroldâs face. Harold grimaced â and heâd swear the animal was laughing at him â then in a flash of light, he disappeared leaving Harold free to continue on.
He wondered if there would be any more obstacles. He didnât meet any as he came to the library exactly where heâd expected it to be. He entered cautiously, and as he turned to head toward where his computer and library should be, he heard the sound of a gun clicking and came face to face with John, who was pointing a gun straight at Haroldâs heart.
John was wearing one of his suits, and he looked pale and tired. His face was bruised. A personâs mental projection was usually the best version of themselves; that John appeared like this said a lot about how heâd been feeling while he was being held captive.
âJohn, stop, please itâs me Harold.â He stayed perfectly still, and tried to will John to see the truth.
John growled, and Harold got a blast of anger. âI donât know how you finally got in here, but Iâll kill you for daring to use his face. I wonât let you trick me.â He smiled menacingly.
âJohn, itâs me. Iâm real. Please, love, you donât want to hurt me. Kara is gone. I put her down myself; sheâll never hurt you again,â Harold begged, all the while, cursing his little slip. John wasnât ready to hear terms of endearment from him. He didnât try to force John to calm down; he didnât want to use his gifts without permission.
John frowned and gazed at him intently. âYou do smell like him, old books and ridiculously expensive aftershave. His scent is right. How are you doing that?â he asked curiously.
Before Harold could decide on an answer, Johnâs eyes turned cold. âBut you made a mistake,â he said triumphantly. âHarold would never call me love. I know you arenât real.â
Harold made a pained sound. How would John ever forgive him? âJohn, I swear to you, I speak the truth. I promised Iâd always tell you the truth remember?â Harold pleaded. He willed John to see his sincerity.
âIâm not sure I believe you. Prove to me itâs really you. If you canât, Iâll shoot you. I told Kara Iâd rather be dead than bond with her, and I meant it.â
âAll right,â Harold agreed easily. âAsk me something only the real me would know the answer to. Something Kara couldnât possibly know,â he said eager to prove he spoke the truth. He longed to get closer to John.
Harold could see John beginning to waver, he wanted to believe. Still his aim was steady. The mix of disbelief and hope he felt form John was intense. He hated that John was so conflicted.
âWhen we were sitting on the bench, shortly after we met, you remember?â John asked in a measured tone. He was carefully not to let any of his emotions color his voice. Always so cautious and careful, his John. Haroldâs heart felt like it would burst with the swell of love the thought provoked.
Harold nodded. Everything about that day was engraved into his mind.
âI asked you, âWhat would happen if I stayed?â What did you say?â John asked. The gun in his hand never wavered.
âI told you weâd both probably wind up dead. For real this time. I promised you the truth, although I havenât always kept that promise. For that I am so so sorry, John. Iâm asking you to trust me again now.â Harold met Johnâs gaze unafraid.
John looked shocked, and then his face crumpled. Harold was shocked to see tears in his eyes. John never cried. âHaroldââ his voice broke. âItâs really you.
âItâs really you,â he repeated.
Harold felt relief and wonder exploding from John Haroldâs heart broke in response. They had both suffered so much because of Haroldâs cowardice.
John put down the gun and pulled Harold into a rib-crushing hug. It should have hurt but it didnât. Harold joyfully hugged him back.
He pulled back and stroked Haroldâs cheek. Then John seemed to come back to himself, and abruptly pulled back. âIâm sorry, Harold; I know you arenât interested in bonding with me.â
He tried to pull away completely, but Harold did not let go.
âNo, Iâm sorry, John. Iâve made so many mistakes when it comes to us. Iâve deprived us both of something so important and fundamental to us. When I thought Iâd lost you, I realized Iâd had a thousand regrets, and I promised myself if you returned to me Iâd try to make it right.â He tried to let his sincerity show.
John smiled indulgently, and laid a finger on Haroldâs lips. âIt has to be you. No one else can talk so much. What are you saying, Harold?â he asked teasingly. âIn plain English this time.â
He could feel Johnâs amusement. Harold snorted mildly offended. It wasnât his fault John was terse at the best of times. The man could be entirely impossible.
âYou are impossible. You know exactly what Iâm talking about,â Harold huffed. âHowever, just so there arenât any misunderstandings, I have something important to tell you.â Harold took a deep breath. âJohn Reese, Iâd be honored if youâd consent to bond with me. I understand you might need some time to accept me, after everything youâve been through, but Iâm willing to wait until you feel comfortable,â Harold said earnestly. He would wait forever if necessary.
John laughed big and open. Harold could feel any lingering doubt John possessed melt away into joy. âYouâll give me time, will you? What she did was horrible, but itâs because of you that I was able to fight her off. My mind recoiled from her touch because it wasnât yours.â
Harold was startled to realize the emotion he was now feeling from John was love. Love so strong it humbled him and rocked him to his very core. He opened his shield and let John feel the strength of his love in return.
John gasped and rocked backward as if surprised, and then tightened his hold on Harold. He buried his face in Haroldâs shoulder, clearly trying to get ahold of his feelings. âI never thought anyone would feel this way about me,â he murmured. Harold could feel his awe. âYou are amazing, Harold. I donât deserve you.â
âReally?â he asked incredulously. âThatâs utter bullshit and you know it,â he said as anger flashed through his heart. It was all he could think to say to Johnâs ridiculous statement. His voice trembled slightly. âDonât be an idiot, John Reese. If thereâs one thing Iâve learned, itâs that we absolutely deserve each other.â
John laughed. âIâm a bad influence on you, Harold. I think I like it,â John said and he cupped Haroldâs cheek with is palm. âEach other huh?â he whispered tenderly. âI like the sound of that.â
Their gazes locked. âHarold, you had me from the moment you told me I needed a purpose. Well actually, from the moment your bodyguards kidnapped me. You donât think I could have gotten away? They were mundane and no match for me, even in my weakened state. The truth is I smelled you on them and I was intrigued by your scent, and I knew I had to meet you. The moment I saw you I knew you were my guide.â
Harold sighed. âOf course you did. Why didnât you say anything? I always assumed you didnât want me.â
John smiled sadly. âOh I wanted you, Harold, so much, but I didnât think I was worthy of you. I have done so many terrible things, and when I realized you never used your guide gifts, I knew you wouldnât want to run the city with me. I didnât want to force you. I never dared to hope that youâd want me back.â
Harold laughed softly. âOh god, John, we are both such idiots. I want to have everything with you. Please.â
John smiled brightly, and he radiated happiness and love. It was almost a living thing. Harold was sure it matched his own. âIâm going to hold you to that, Harold. And to answer your question, I want nothing more than to bond with you and spend every day by your side.â
Harold nodded, too overcome to speak. After all, it wasnât every day a man got everything he wanted. He took Johnâs had in his. He wanted to touch John forever; he could feel the impulse was mutual.
Once he trusted his voice, he said, âLetâs go home. Everyoneâs waiting for us. We have time to figure everything out.â
John nodded, but he looked uncertain. âIâm not sure what to do,â he admitted.
Harold lifted their joined hands and kissed Johnâs knuckles. âJust let go, imagine all this fading away. Donât be afraid. Iâll guide us out.â
John closed his eyes and everything around them began to fade away.
Harold slowly opened his eyes. He looked up, and met Johnâs blue eyed gaze.
âGuide,â John said quietly. His voice was hoarse from disuse, but it was the most beautiful sound Harold had ever heard.
âSentinel,â he responded, as their emotions surrounded them. He thought his heart would burst from their combined happiness and love. Harold had never felt so content. Johnâs warmth seeped into Haroldâs body and he finally relaxed. He reached out and touched Johnâs face tenderly. John pulled him closer, and Harold felt him take several deep breaths. Harold recognized that John was grounding himself with Haroldâs scent.
He leaned over and their lips met. It was a gentle kiss but full of promise, the promise of much more to come. It was just what they both needed. There would be time later for passion, once John was healed. There were a lot of things they needed to figure out, but lying in his sentinelâs arms, everything was finally right in Haroldâs world. Whatever came next they would face it together.
The moment was broken when a large white tiger pounced onto the bed with a joyous roar, followed closely by a red-tailed hawk. Harold found he didnât mind. The truth was, he wouldnât have it any other way.

Awesome fusion. Very well done. Thanks for sharing.
Wow, I really love this. thanks so much for sharing your story.
Wonderful crossover, great read, thank you.