But I Might...
by Kathy Whelton
(c) 1999


They say that the sense of hearing is the last one to go--
at least now I know that's true. The sound from above me is
a reassuring one--it's the steady beat of my own heart, duly
measured and recorded by the wonders of modern technology. It's
a bit fast--the physician in me is screaming 'sinus
tachycardia'--a normal physiologic response to a profound loss of
circulating blood volume. All things considered, it could be far
worse. At least it's still beating--and more than once every ten
minutes.

Right now I'm more than happy to crawl into the safe haven that
modern medicine has to offer and hide here indefinitely. A nurse
floats into the room on a cushion of cool air and hangs yet
another unit of packed cells. How many is that now? Ten, maybe
--I've managed to lose count. I can tell by the squeak of her
shoe that it's the same nurse who has been here all day. Don't
they ever go home? She stops briefly at the figure of Joe Reese,
still slumped in the chair at the foot of my bed.

"Can I get you something, Captain? Another cup of coffee maybe?"
I hear her ask softly.

"No, that's all right. I'll float away if I drink another cup,"
he answers. I can imagine him forcing a smile, trying to be
polite. "Any change?" he asks wearily--it's been a very long day
for him as well.

I find myself straining to listen, curious as to her response.
It's an odd sensation to be eavesdropping on your own life, or
your own death, for that matter. Been there, done that.

"Her vital signs are stabilized," she responds. "We'll just have
to wait and see. Hopefully, she'll wake up soon."

It's the same answer she gave him an hour ago and I find myself
losing interest in their conversation.  Why isn't anyone giving
me the answer *I* need to know? In a flash of temper, I struggle,
once again, to open my eyes, to say something, *anything* to let
them now I'm present and accounted for. Nothing. The heartrate on
the monitor speeds slightly--the only response I can seem to
muster. My eyes remain shut as if lead weights were holding the
lids in place, my hands remain fixed at my side.

The chair groans as Joe Reese shifts his considerable bulk. Why
is he hanging around? That's one of the things my brain won't
quite allow me to process--another is why he showed up at
the loft at all. It's not that I'm not grateful--profoundly
grateful as a matter-of-fact. Of all the dumbass stunts to pull--
appealing to Nick at his weakest moment...

~~~~~~
"You want to hurt me, to kill me."

The cold blue of his eyes finally falters for an instant. "No,
but I might anyway."

~~~~~

And you did too, didn't you Nick? Just not in a way that was
visible to anyone else. The bandage on my neck itches
and I long to reach up and scratch it. This was nothing--a
mere underlining of our relationship--the punctuation, if
you will. For some reason I find that idea immensely amusing. How
would it seem if I rose from my sickbed laughing hysterically?
I feel the effort die in my throat, long before it has a chance
to greet the stillness in the room.

Dammit, Nick, where are you? *How* are you? A shudder goes
through my body, unable to block the memory of his voice, his
agonizing shriek as LaCroix plunges the shaft through his back.

No! I won't go there, not now when there's nothing I
can do about it. I force my thoughts back to the subject at
hand--I think that's supposed to be me. When did it stop being
me? That's the real question, isn't it, Nick? When did my life
stop being about me and become about you?

I shift slightly in the hospital bed--a definite
improvement from just a few hours ago. I'm also breathing on
my own which is a real achievement for anyone who has been
through what I have. I need to focus on the positives here--the
negatives will surface soon enough. They always do.

~~~~~~~
"Is that the curator from the museum?" I pause, startled by
the sound of her voice on Nick's answering machine. "What
happened last night?"

"I kissed her. Then I nearly killed her."

~~~~~~~

I knew it then, didn't I? Knew that my feelings had gone far
beyond our doctor-patient relationship, beyond even the
friendship that we continued to hide behind. I tried to
tell myself that the feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn't
jealousy--it was merely concern for you, for the pain I could
see stamped all over your face. I quashed the feeling
then--determined to be friend, confidant, doctor. Anything but
the one thing I really wanted to be.

A murmur of voices draws my attention back to the room around
me. It's later now--I'm not quite sure how I know that, I just
do. I also know that Joe Reese has left. Is he finally
gone for the night, or has he just stepped out to allow the
nurses some privacy?

I hear the nurse with the squeaky shoe intently reciting
the facts of my 'case' to a colleague--change of shift report,
that must be it. Apparently, she gets to go home after all.
Everyone gets to go home but me.

The pair approach my bedside with a quiet efficiency, carefully
checking all my lines and tubes. A sudden glare of light, first
in one eye, then the other, reassures them that there has been
no deterioration in my neurological status. I just wish I could
reassure myself. What if this is it? What if I'm trapped in this
limbo of an existence forever, only hearing of the world
whatever happens to pass by my bed? Again, I struggle to make
some sign that I am aware, that I can hear what they are saying,
but my body refuses to cooperate. I try to quell the sense of
panic that I feel rising within me. Surely *someone* will notice
that I'm in here.

The nurse's voice takes on a conspiratorial note as she relays
the circumstances of my injuries. The 'official' version is that
Reese found me in the alley down the block from Nick's loft,
my only apparent wounds being the ones on my neck. I take it from
her tone that not everyone buys the story Reese has concocted--I
can't say I blame them. I wouldn't have believed it, even
before...

~~~~~

"What--what the hell...? You were *dead* a minute ago. Who are
you? *What* are you?"

"Something very different from you."

~~~~

And you were so very, very, different, Nick. Did I even stand a
chance, or was my fate sealed from that moment on? I'd like to
think that I at least stood a fighting chance. How different
would my life have been if I had let you walk through those
morgue doors and out of my life? It was a 50/50 shot, you know,
that night you walked by me on the street. Heads--I turn around
and say something. Tails--I keep walking--right into the first
quart of Haagen-Dazs I could find. For the longest time I thought
I'd won that toss--funny how you can convince yourself of almost
anything.

The tape on my neck pulls against the skin. I guess I should have
taken the ice cream. It sure would have made life simpler,
and safer...if you happen to be into simple or safe. Me, I
prefer to have my heart ground up into a million little pieces
as often as possible, and you seemed all too happy to oblige
me at times.

~~~~

"I care about you, Nat--very much. I want you to be
happy, and last night I realized something."

"You did?" I look up at him--not quite daring to hope.

"I realized that if I wasn't careful, I could get in
the way of your happiness.

Look, I want you to know...I think it's good that you're
beginning to see someone. I'm truly happy for you and I won't
mess it up by interfering or doubting your judgment."

"I appreciate it. Thanks." I busy myself with a chart,
praying that he'll leave before he can see the disappointment
in my eyes.

~~~~~

You didn't get it then, did you, Nick? I know I could have told
you what I was thinking, what I was feeling, but you were always
so good at sensing the truth in other people--why was it you
couldn't see what was written all over my heart?

Or could you see it, Nick? The truth, *our truth*, is just so
damn scary. Is it just that you didn't want to face up to it?
There was a time when I thought I could handle anything, when I
was ready to take on the world for you. Somehow, ten units of
blood later, I'm not quite so sure.

The room is silent again. I hear the door creak and the heavy
scuff of a man's tread across the floor. Joe Reese? It must be. I
get a whiff of his cologne, now mixed with a heavy dose of
perspiration as he approaches me. I hear the clank of his wedding
band as he rests his hands on my bedside rails.

"What on earth did you get yourself into, Natalie?" He whispers,
yet I hear the undercurrent of tension in his voice. He pauses
at my bedside. Is he hoping for an answer, or dreading the
thought of what I might say? He knows. There's a sinking feeling
in my chest as I acknowledge it. He knows far more than he
should, far more than it is safe for him to know. But at the same
time, he doesn't know nearly enough.

"It's not what it looks like!" I want to shout it to the world,
but nothing comes out. I can't even manage to make a sound. Would
it matter if I could scream it at the top of my lungs? How
could anyone even begin to understand this? I can't understand it
myself, and I've been living it for the last six years.

Six years? How could the time have passed so quickly, almost
without my noticing it? At least I can't say that it's been
dull. I'm not sure the wonder of it has left me, even now, after
all I've seen, all that I've been through. Beings, walking this
earth in almost complete secrecy, unknown to the world at large.
How could anyone, let alone a scientist, be faced with that and
just walk away? And if I had known...what then? I have the
definite feeling it wouldn't have made a bit of difference, but
maybe...maybe. Dammit, maybe I could have at least had my guard
up, Nick.

~~~~~

"You want to hurt me, to kill me."

"No, but I might anyway."

~~~~~

What you didn't tell me was that there was more than one way
to drain the life out of a person. Did you know? It sure as hell
took me one damn long time to figure it out, but you've been at
this a whole lot longer than I have. I assumed that if you
weren't going for my neck, I was in the clear. Silly me. What I
didn't count on were a thousand-and-one subtle ways I could
lose myself to you.

~~~~~
"We've had a lot of suicides. With that, and all the
craziness, I think I can keep this hidden."

~~~~~~~

It always seemed like the reasonable thing to do--to
protect Nick's secret--*their* secret. It still seems
reasonable, I guess. What good would it do to even try to
tell? Even if anyone did believe me--does humanity really
need another bogeyman?

Joe Reese settles, once again, into the chair at the
foot of my bed. The exhaustion radiates off of him. Just
how long does he think he can sit there? Whatever it is that he's
waiting for, he seems determined to see it through to the end.
Determination is an admirable quality--at least I always
thought that it was. I was determined to see 'us' through
to the end as well. See where it got me? Maybe Joe Reese
should run now, while he still has the chance.

If anyone had told me eight years ago that I would do
the things I've done... Was that the first victim of the vampire,
Nick--my professional integrity? I think I lost that to you even
before I lost my heart. "That gang robbery victim?" I carefully
scan the roster of 'patients,' trying hard to make it look good.
"Nope, not here. There must be some mistake." My heart was in my
throat. Why couldn't anyone see I was lying? People believe what
they want to believe--isn't that how you explained it to me,
Nick? I guess you were right.

I wanted to believe that you loved me...

My heart jumps as I realize that someone is standing
over me. Nick...? No--I know now that I'd recognize you
in an instant--we'll never be strangers to one another again,
no matter how we may wish for it. Getting a glimpse into
someone's soul will do that to you. Getting a glimpse into
your soul was far more than even I ever bargained for. For
a moment, I clamp my eyes even more tightly shut--as if that
will somehow keep the visions of you and the things you've done
from playing in my head. How could I have ever thought I
understood what you were?

The soft sound of a woman's voice reaches my ear--the nurse
from the night shift, that must be who it is. "Natalie." She
places a warm hand on my forehead and begins stroking it gently.
"You're safe now...you're in the hospital and you're going to be
fine. You gave everyone quite a scare, but everything's going to
be all right. No one's going to hurt you here."

Her words roll effortlessly off her tongue as she goes through
her routine. If only I could believe that anything would ever be
right again. I hear the rattle of the machines around me as she
checks each one to be certain it's working as it should. Then,
suddenly, her hands are on me again, warm and strong, touching
me, caring for me as if I were a child. It's been so long since
I've felt the loving touch of another human being and it brings
the sting of tears to my eyes.

Was that yet another victim of the vampire, Nick--simple human
contact? I take a good look at the people around me and I
realize--there are none. The friends that I did have before I
met you have all gone, puzzled and a bit put off by my odd hours
and even odder excuses. Even dear Grace has somehow become a
non-entity in my life. Lora may have been wrong about a lot
of things, but she did score a direct hit with that one. My life
has become empty--frighteningly, excruciatingly, empty--devoid of
everyone and everything except for you.

As for family, I guess I can't hold you responsible for
that, at least no more responsible than I hold myself. Damn,
Richie, how *dare* you go and die on me? You're the one person
who might have had a chance of seeing what was happening to me
and of knocking some sense into this thick skull of mine--the one
person who I might have been able to turn to.

The warm hand is back, brushing the hair softly from my face.
"You sleep now," I can hear her say. "You let us know when you're
ready to come back."

Sleep. It sounds like a wonderful idea. I'd love to curl up
and sleep forever...well, maybe not forever. We've been there
already tonight, haven't we? How about for a good long while
then? Long enough to forget that tonight ever happened.

~~~~

"You don't want my love. It will only destroy you."

"There is a way--there's one cure we haven't tried. Janette
became mortal by making love to Robert--by taking just a
little at a time."

"It was a lot more complicated than that."

~~~~

Complicated--now there's an understatement for you. But then,
when has anything between us ever been simple? For years we
danced around the feelings we had for one another--too afraid
to admit what we felt, yet neither of us able to walk away.

What ever possessed me to think that Janette's cure might work?
If I'd made any mistake in the past, it was that I focused too
much on the scientific and too little on the metaphysical. I sure
picked a fine time to check the scientist at the door, didn't
I, Nick?  I don't think I've ever seen you so vulnerable, so
needy to be loved for everything that you are.  Was I so afraid
of you walking out that door that I would have said *anything* to
keep you? I guess I needed to be loved too, and the prospect of
facing life without you was just too much for me to bear.

Was that the third victim of the vampire, Nick--my self respect?
Because the woman who begged you tonight to stay, the woman who
was willing to do anything, to try *anything* to keep you, wasn't
the same woman you met in the morgue so very long ago. She was so
far removed from *me*, from what I used to be, that even I
don't recognize her anymore. I don't want to recognize her
anymore. As much as I might have needed you, Nick, I want *that*
me back just a little bit more. And I will get her back, Nick.
There will be no more offerings to the vampire--not if I have
anything to say about it.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I do not love this woman."

~~~~~~~

Yeah, right. I should be so lucky--we should *both* be
so lucky. If good fortune had anything at all to do with
this, our lives would never have crossed paths in the first
place. But they did cross, didn't they, Nick? Neither of us can
escape the truth anymore. Now we just have to try and figure out
how to live with the consequences.

That is assuming that Joe Reese arrived in time to find more than
a pile of ashes on the floor beside me. Damn! Why can't I
remember more? All I can remember is hearing LaCroix's voice...
and the agonized shriek of your voice.

I can feel my heart begin to race in my chest. I take a deep
breath and will it to slow to a normal rate. I'll be damned if I
survived all this only to die of an anxiety-induced heart attack.
But if you are alive, Nick, where are you and why the *hell*
isn't anyone saying *anything* about you? And if you are
dead...No! I won't let myself think that, I *can't* let myself
think that. I have to believe that you are still here with me, in
this life. You promised me--that I do remember.

I also remember what it was like before...before I ever met
you, before I somehow let myself become lost in you...before I
allowed myself to be consumed by you. Yeah, that's right, I said
'allowed myself' because that *is* what it comes down to in the
end, isn't it, Nick?  You may have been the one to siphon away my
spirit, little by little--that is the nature of your beast--but
*I* am the one who allowed it to happen, the one who let the
little things slide in my own life until there was nothing left
of me to lose.

~~~~~~~

"You want to hurt me, to kill me."

"No, but I might anyway."

~~~~~~~~

A sigh escapes my lips and I feel the rhythm of my heart begin
to calm itself. I guess you did try to tell me, didn't you,
Nick? I just didn't believe you--I *couldn't* believe you. Your
words told me one thing that night, but your eyes told me
another, and what I saw in your soul outweighed any sense of
caution that I could muster.

You were as helpless to stop this as I was.

Despite all your humanity--and in so many ways you are
the most 'mortal' man I have ever known--this is the beast,
your beast. This *is* what you are. I know that now. And, unless
someway, somehow, Janette's cure was successful--do I even dare
to hope that it could be true--then we *are* going to have to
find a way to deal with it. Because, like it or not, there is no
more hiding from the way we feel, no more secrets between us now.
I love you and you love me. I just don't know whether to
be thrilled about it, or just be plain scared to death.

I stir a bit in the bed--I'm definitely able to move more than I
was a few hours ago. Do I have the strength to deal with whatever
comes next? Can I find the strength to love you, yet hold on to
*me*, to what I am? Six years ago the answer would have been
unequivocally yes--the foolishness of innocence. Now, I just
don't know anymore--I'm out of answers, Nick, and there are way
too many questions.

The sound of Joe Reese's chair scraping across the floor startles
me from my reverie--something at the door has caught his
attention. The heavy thud of his feet making contact with the
floor reverberates throughout the room.

"Ah...you won't be needing that, Captain. This is already 
beginning to play a bit too much like a bad B-movie for my
taste."

Nick! My heart leaps anew in my chest. There's no mistaking the
soft timbre of his voice. He's alive. Thank God, he's alive.
All my doubts flee in an instant. For the first time, my eyelids
flutter and allow the light to enter.

Joe Reese glances anxiously towards an object now resting some
distance from his feet. A crucifix lies there in silent
accusation. Unquestionably, he knows what Nick is--and he's
afraid. Afraid enough to have armed himself against the monster.
"Knight...I..."

"Nick, is that you?" I don't know what surprises me more,
the fact that I can speak, or that my voice is scarcely
recognizable, even to my own ears. I muster every ounce of
strength I can realize to lift my hand towards the pair.

"I'm here, Nat." Nick steps quickly around Reese and the fallen
cross. I can feel his hand slide into mine--my heart sinks as
I realize it is still inhumanly cold. It seems that we've run out
of miracles--at least for the time being.

Nick drops on one knee and brushes his lips against the back
of my hand. He starts slowly--I can hear his pain in every
syllable. "I am...so...very...sorry, Nat. I just couldn't stop
myself." His darkest fears realized, and I'm the one who pushed
him into it.

"Shush, don't. I know." I gently caress the the curve of his
porcelain cheek with my hand. He's aged a thousand years since I
saw him last. "Don't blame yourself. It was my decision too, you
know." I blink back the bitter tears of disappointment--there'll
be time enough for tears later on. I have everything I need right
in front of me.

I drop the level of my voice so it is audible only to Nick's
sensitive hearing. "What's Joe Reese doing here?"

"More has happened than you probably realize." Nick makes no
effort to hide his words, it's as if he wants Reese to hear
what he's saying, as if he *needs* Reese to hear him. "The
Captain saved your life--both our lives, really. I think he's
here to protect you...from me. I can hardly fault him for that,
now can I?" he asks bitterly.

Reese takes a step back and the tension drains from
his face. I can almost see the detective in him putting the
pieces of the puzzle together. There's no revulsion in his
features, and, once again, I find myself filled with gratitude
towards him.

"Peaches!" I exclaim abruptly. That's it! I remember now--LaCroix
staking Nick, Reese coming to the loft, removing the stake from
Nick's chest... How could I ever forget? Lock the doors and turn
off the lights?! Damn the old buzzard, anyway! "Life is like a
ripe peach..."

Nick manages a wry grin. "So I've been told."

Faster than my eyes can follow, Nick is standing face-to-face
with Joe Reese. "I appreciate all that you've done for us, but
you *will* forget all you have seen and heard."

Joe Reese wavers for an instant, then straightens his shoulders.
"Um...I...I almost did forget what I came to tell you last
night--Tracy Vetter isn't dead."

I can feel myself drifting off again, my energies spent. What is
he saying? Something about Tracy being alive? Maybe we're not
quite out of miracles after all.

Right now, I need to sleep, to gather my strength for whatever
lies ahead for us. I'm still convinced that there is a future for
us, Nick Knight, only now it's up to us to decide what that
future holds.

The End


Author's note: Snippets of dialogue are from: Dark Knight I,
Only the Lonely, Be My Valentine, A More Permanent Hell and
Last Knight. Many thanks to the wonderful writers who have
taken us all on this voyage.