Seven Days to Absolution

Blackadder theme ringtone

Rob: Hello?
Theo: Hey Rob, long time no speak…
Rob: ….. Jay? Jay, is that…?
Theo: Yeah
Rob: Holy fucking shit Jay! It’s been forever! Where have you been? How are you?
Theo: Quiet breath of a laugh. I’m… okay, I think. I’m still in America, have been since I left. How’s things there?
Rob: Never mind here, what happened? Why did you go? You got those docs I did for you, and then you just... disappeared.
Theo: I… can’t really talk about it right now...
Rob:　Oh… okay then…
Theo: Sorry. I’ll tell you soon, I promise. I just… can’t right now.
Rob: It’s alright Jay… Is something wrong? You sound upset…
Theo: Soft, tired sigh. Yeah… Yeah, something is very wrong…
Rob: Shit… What can I do to help?
Theo: I need… I was wondering if you could track down some people for me?
Rob: Can do boss. I just need a name and last known address, if you’ve got ‘em.
Theo: Yeah. They’re… old details, though…
Rob: That’s fine, I’ll see what I can do. Email them to me?
Theo: ………… On their way to you now.
Rob: …………. Got ‘em……… Oh…… Oh Jay…
Theo: Yeah…
Rob: Jay, I…….. I’ll see what I can do…
Theo: Thanks mate, I owe you one.
Rob: You owe me nothing. I’m just really glad to hear from you again.
Theo: Yeah… Sorry it’s been so long.
Rob: It has been too long, yeah… We’ve missed you…
Theo: We?
Rob: Me and Mitch
Theo: Surprised voice. Oh wow, you're still with Mitch?
Rob: Yeah, we're married now. We wanted to invite you, but... you know... we didn't know where you were.
Theo: You could have asked Cicci. She knew.
Rob: Oh... really? She always told us she didn't have a clue, said you just fucked off to America.
Theo: ….... Did she now?
Rob: Yeah... Is... is something wrong?
Theo: No more so than it was five minutes ago. Can you do me a huge favour though?
Rob: Sure, anything.
Theo: Can I borrow your sofa for a few days?
Rob: Fuck the sofa, you know you can borrow the bed any time
Theo: Actually looses a quiet laugh. I know... let me think on it, yeah?
Rob: Yeah yeah, course. When you coming?
Theo: About three or four days, if that's okay with you guys?
Rob: That'll be perfect! Oooh! I wont tell Mitch you're coming. It can be a surprise!
Theo: Yeah..... Can't guarantee I'll be great company, mind...
Rob: Oh....... You're actually..... going to see them?
Theo: Sort of, yeah... In a way...
Rob: Oh shit Jay... Just... please be careful, yeah?
Theo: Always am.
Rob: If there is ANYTHING you need, please let me know? We're always gunna be here for you.
Theo: I know. I appreciate it. You two have done so much for me... and congratulations on the wedding, by the way! Sorry I couldn't be there.
Rob: Thanks! And you'd have hated it anyway. Because I got to pick where we went for the honeymoon, he got to pick the theme. Star Wars, obviously. Here, I'll email you a picture...............
Theo: ….............. Laughs, loudly. What the FUCK, Rob?
Rob: I KNOW! He flipped his lid when he saw me! He threw such a strop because I looked hotter than he did, bless him.
Theo: Still laughing. Rob... mate... tight skimpy gold bikinis are NOT your look...
Rob: Also laughing. Oh shush up you big girl, not like you've not seen it a dozen times before.
Theo: I know, but... it's not normally quite so... squished...
Rob: Laughs louder, then stops. Oh wait... I can hear his key in the door, I'll have to shoot off so he doesn't get suspicious. Give me a call so I know you've landed safe, okay?
Theo: Of course, and I'll let you know soon as I can when I'll be arriving at yours. Thanks again, Rob.
Rob: Any time gorgeous. I'll speak to you very soon. Be careful okay?
Theo: I will be.
Rob: PROMISE ME you will be careful and not put yourself in danger.
Theo: I promise I will do all in my power to keep safe.
Rob: Right... thank you. Bye, Jay. It was good to hear from you again.
Theo: You too, Rob... Look after Mitch... and get the bed warm for when I get there...




Deep breaths... Many of deep breaths...

It was a long time before Theo stood up from the chair in his living room where he had folded after hearing the answer phone message, the laptop now closed on the desk. In his bedroom he rummaged in the wardrobe, found a large rucksack, and threw a handful of clothes and personal items inside. He wouldn't need much. How much could one person take in a lifetime? How much pain and misery and suffering could one person go through before they finally just snapped completely? History says not a lot. Theo had been through so very, very much. So much heartache and torment and torture that would likely have already broken many others. What was it that kept him going from one day to the next, kept him functioning and able? Perhaps it was sheer stubbornness, that deep inner bitterness and resentment that rebelled against everything that tried to hold him down, to hold him back. No matter what life tried to throw at him he would do everything he could to shrug it off. He was Theo Loving, and he wasn't going to be anybodies bitch any more. Was that it? Was it really that simple?

No, of course not. Nothing ever is.

How much could one life take before everything collapsed in on itself. How much horror could one endure before they simply chose to end it all, to give up and run down that tunnel to see just what the light at the end of it held. Would it be heaven, hell, more of the same? To most people, more of the same would be hell. All of eternity roasting in a lake of fire would be nothing compared to what some people had endured throughout their lifetimes. Granted Theo had always had a roof over his head, but just what had he put up with in order to have that? How many children had suffered like he had? How many children had been forced to endure what he had, and how many of them had survived to tell the tale? Theo doubted there were many.

He had long thought that he had enjoyed life in the club in London, had found a peace and happiness there that he had never known before. It was only with the freedom that his escape to America offered that Theo realised just how very trapped he had been. He had been twisted and manipulated, used and abused all over again for the entertainment of another. But Cicci hadn't been like George. She had been subtle, a manipulative temptress that had taken the young and oh so very damaged man and twisted him into exactly what she wanted him to be. A high earner. A powerful and formidable toy that she had perfect control over. Someone that so very many would want to be with, and would pay handsomely in order to do so. She had given him the chance at a life, but it could only ever had been a life as she dictated it. She had tricked him into thinking that was what he wanted. In many ways, she was worse than George.

And now she was using Marcus to try to bring him home, to lure him back to her. Did she really think he was still her perfect little puppy, that he would go whimpering back to her with his tail between his legs as soon as he realised that she had the blue-eyed blonde at her every whim? It had been so very long since Theo had last seen Cicci, that perhaps she did still expect him to bow to her every demand. Last time they had seen each other, Theo would have crawled through broken glass had she asked him to. But that was a long time ago, and he was a very different man now. Perhaps only a few months ago her lure would have worked, would have drawn him in like a panicked puppy scared it had done something wrong to upset his mistress.

Perhaps in a way the lure had worked, but it was undoubtedly not in the way Cicci had intended. She wanted a frightened, submissive Jaybird to run back to her with apologies on his lips and a bowed head. How very surprised she was going to be a few days from now... But he had other errands to run first. Other places to go and people to see...

How much can a mind take before it finally snaps, before the fibres that hold a person together and keep them a sociable, functioning, predictable human being give way?
How far could one person be pushed before they fracture, before their morals and standards collapse and you are left with the base animal? The nightmare that lurks under the bed. The monster that wants nothing more than to take the horrors that have been inflicted on it and seek vengeance. The brutal, ugly creature out to destroy all those that had destroyed it.

Oh, he was going home alright. All the way back to the fucking start of it all.

God help the lot of them, because no one else will be able to...

This is a final call for all passengers on flight UA 714 to please make their way to gate seven. That is all passengers on flight UA 714 to LAX to make their way to gate seven.


Theo was already at the gate, the bag that contained his clothes and small essentials already checked in. The only hand luggage he carried was a small bag he had picked up at the airport that contained a few books and magazines he had also bought at the airport, and his ever-faithful MP3 player. It was going to be a very long, very boring day, of that he was certain. Fly from here to LA, then to NY, and then on to Manchester. A full day travelling. A full day before he would land in his home country and be able to start setting his past straight. So very much to do, so very little time to do it in…

Unlike the last time Theo had gone home, he knew this time that he would be returning to the states. Last time he had absolutely no intention to return to America, had thought he was leaving the infinately vast country behind him and settling back down in London. One letter had changed all that. Just one letter had sent him running back a week before his stay in London had come even close to finishing. He had thought there was nothing there for him, that he would be happier back in the familiarity of Soho’s back streets. That letter from Cecil had changed all that. He did have something there he wanted, something that he had to go back for, and it was then that he realised that America was where he belonged.

He didn’t have Cecil now. That was painfully clear and fresh in his mind. After almost a year of them being together, Cecil had left him. Theo knew it was for the best, that they would both have been destroyed had they stayed together, but that didn’t really make him feel any less bitter, didn’t make the wounds any less deep and agonising. He had genuinely believed that he could have had a life with the doctor, that they could have been together in a way that Theo had never imagined he could ever be with another person. That had been ripped out from under him in the most sick and twisted way, the mental scars sliced only deeper as he found out that Cecil had moved in with the monster he had spent so long running away from. Harry had won. Game, set and match.

But now a new game was in play, and this time, Theo was making up the rules.

The flight from Portland PDX to LAX was spent mostly trying to recover from that fucking ferry crossing. Theo absolutely detested the boat, and had remembered not to eat anything that morning so there was nothing for his stomach to eject as he once more hid as far into the bowels of the floating deathtrap as he could. Why a boat? Why a fucking boat? Planes he could cope with okay, but the idea of floating on the sea in a couple of tonnes of metal still terrified him. He had never even seen a beach before the first move to Green Ridge, and the sight of the vast ocean was still frightening. Something so incredibly huge and empty seeming from a distance, so very full of life and danger if you got too close. It was as awe-inspiring as it was terrifying, but he had no intentions of getting any closer than absolutely necessary. By the time the plane from LAX to JFK took off he was finally settling down again, forgetting about the horrifying boat crossing and starting to plan how the next week or so would unfold.

The final plane was from JFK to Manchester. His home city, the place he was born. The place he was fairly certain he was going to die until he ran away, aged fifteen. He hadn't gone back to the sprawling city since that evening, since he had finally snapped and fled that farm house on Saddleworth moor that overlooked the flats and shopping centres below. He could remember very little of the city centre as he drove the rental Ford Focus through it, his bag on the back seat next to the carrier bag containing the things he had bought at the Morrisons he had stopped at earlier. It was just turning 10pm, the sun had finally disappeared completely behind the horizon and left deep blue clouds filling the sky. It was still very warm, but the rain was lashing down hard. It was going to storm tonight. But Manchester was not his real destination for tonight. Pulling into a layby he removed the mobile phone from his pocket, checking the address that Rob had messaged to him earlier. 13 Vicarage Hill, Keswick, Cumbria. He put the address into the TomTom sat nav that came with the car, checking the route. Only about two hours away if he put his foot down...

The motorway rolled beneath the wheels of the hunter green car like so many miles of black ribbon, the bustle and lights of the cities falling behind as he entered Cumbria, the Lake District. It made sense, really. The sleepy little towns where nothing much exciting ever happened, where everyone knew everyone else by first name, and there was fuck all to do but waste your life away. There had been a TV show about it a few years ago, about the chaos that one city boy could bring to the inbred little cottage lifestyles of the locals. Cumbria, where there is nothing to do but drink and fuck... and hide people like George.

Vicarage Hill was easy enough to find. The tree-littered quiet road was right on the edge of the village, each house blessed with a spacious garden and stunning views across the mountains that were literally on their doorstep. This was the kind of place Theo had always imagined himself living. Quiet and isolated, a place where he could feel alone but still have all the conveniences of a town nearby. Eventually he pulled up outside number 13, scanning eyes over the red brick cottage. A light was on in an upstairs room, smoke curling lazily from the chimney despite the fact it was a warm evening. Everything seemed so very serene and calm, so normal. Like a scene out of a whimsical novel. For a brief moment, Theo's mind and decision wavered. He knew intimately what kind of horror lurked inside that house, what monster lay in wait, but... could time heal? Could the monster that lived in that house really be the same as the one that had caused him so very much pain and suffering? Could time have changed that monster into the good, honest person that religious nutters always said lurked inside every human being?

Across the road from the house, there was a primary school...




It was twenty minutes before Theo found a bed and breakfast that had vacancies, and dumping his bag on the bed, he removed the small packet from the carrier bag and headed into the shower. Dying his hair blonde in the bathroom of some seedy little shithole of a hotel. How very call-boy-ish. It would not be much of a disguise, but hopefully enough that anyone who might recognise him would have to do a double-take. Of course, by the time they looked back, he would already be gone. He wasn't expecting to be recognised here, but when he headed down to London there would be countless people who would recall his features, and he didn't know when he would next have a chance to stop.

Theo headed to bed as soon as he was dried from the shower, exhausted from a very long day of travelling. As he lay in bed with his eyes closed, he ran through the list of everything that he would need the next day, finalising his plans. There was so very much to do, and so very little time to do it in. Tomorrow would be the biggest challenge Theo had faced since he ran away from the monster that now lived in that adorable little cottage by the mountains, since he had left never to return. Since he had exiled himself. Tomorrow would be the start of his new life. Tomorrow he would get his revenge.

The sleepy little village was about to get one hell of a wake up call...

Warning! This post gets VERY dark VERY quickly. It is not for the faint hearted or squeamish. This is a warning. You have been warned. Don't say I didn't warn you. That was a warning. You can't say I didn't warn you, because you totally got warned *nods*






“Hiya, my car broke down around the corner and my mobile's dead. Is it okay if I use your phone for a sec, mate?”


As soon as Theo had seen those ice blue eyes, he knew. The face was different, distorted with age and hair that had long since faded to grey, but those eyes were unmistakable. How many times had he been forced to stare into those eyes? For how many years had he had nightmares of those eyes watching him from the shadows, peeking over the end of his bed, waiting around every corner... Time had not been kind to the old bastard, had left his face covered in deep wrinkles and vein marks, but Theo knew. This was the monster that had ruined his entire life, had set all the wheels in motion that had led him to be the fucked up individual that he was. Everything bad that had happened in Theo's life had happened because of the man currently stood in the kitchen of that adorable little red brick cottage, watching him as he dialled a number into the phone that had been handed to him, his hands in fine leather gloves.

Theo could feel those eyes on him, could feel them staring at him. There had been no look of recognition on the old man's face as he had greeted Theo at the front door, but Theo was not surprised. He had been only fifteen years old, a young boy named Jaimie when they had last seen each other. Twenty years that felt like an entire lifetime. Theo could still remember that day clearly, the day that he had snapped and ran away. He had come downstairs to have an apple for breakfast, only to find the man that had spent the past eight years looking after him already awake and sat at the table. With a head held low and eyes cast to the floor the young boy had made his way to the cabinet to retrieve the fruit, only to hear the words that would cause him to snap completely uttered from cold, uncaring lips. “Uncle John and the boys will be round on Sunday for you, so don't eat anythin' Saturday. Oh, and that fuckin' nag has finally dropped. About time too. I'm going to the market on Saturday, get a decent lookin' one for you to work with.”

The death of Ginger, his pony and the only real friend he had ever had, had caused Jaimie's entire world to crumple. The house of cards that he had somehow managed to keep upright had collapsed completely, and even though he knew it would get him punished, he had wept openly and without care as to who saw it. That night, in huge amounts of pain and with tears streaming down his cheeks, the young boy had limped his way to the stables next to the house and curled up next to the fallen body of his best friend, burying his face against her neck and crying until there were simply no more tears left to fall. Ginger had been the only thing that had kept him going, kept him sane. Such terrible things he had been forced to do with her, to do to her, and yet she never showed him anything but love and kindness. And then she was gone...

Theo had to battle back the smug smirk that wanted to cross his lips as he noticed the scar on the old man's forehead. The scar from when he had belted the old bastard across the head with a bucket before fleeing into the night, never to return. He had headed for London that night, like every little boy running away from the northern cities did, and he had thought that his nightmares would be well and truly left behind. In a way they were. There were no news bulletins, no fliers or posters or appeals on the news. He had disappeared into the night, and no one in the world seemed to want to look for him. That was the last time he had ever gone by the name Jaimie...

“Hiya Rob...... yeah, cars down....... in a cottage....... yeah, I'm fine........ about an hour maybe...... yeah, I'll give you a call soon as I'm on my way....... right, speak to you soon..... You too. Bye.”

Theo hung up the phone, handing it to the older man with a small smile. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Of course he hadn't actually phoned Rob. The number that he had 'called' did not exist. On the outside Theo was calm and collected, just a tourist in a strange town with a car that couldn't handle the roads. On the inside, he was quaking. Even though he had never been in this house before, it was like he could feel the weight of the memories pressing down on him, making his thoughts heavy, his head ache. This was the man that had destroyed his young life, had ensured that he never had anything remotely resembling a childhood. This was the man that had caused him endless torment and misery, forced him to do things that no child should ever have to do. How many others had he infected? How many other lives had he destroyed? As furious as Theo was, as much as he hated the demon-spawn that stood in the room with him, he was completely terrified. This was the man that had made him crawl and beg, the man that had taken his innocence and violated him over and over again. Theo had hoped and prayed he would never even have to think about this living nightmare again, and now he was sharing breathing space with him. Fury and terror blended together, sending adrenaline pulsing through his veins, and the voice that left the throat of Theo Loving was cold as the Arctic and deathly quiet, the small pistol pulled from his pocket and held loosely at his side. “Sit the fuck down, George...”




In the living room. George sat on the sofa. Theo stood facing him, gun still in a gloved hand. A blunt razor blade on the coffee table between them. The curtains closed.

George: Why should I?
Theo: Because if you don't, I will.
George: And just how would that be worse?
Theo: Because I will make it drag out. I will make you feel every shred of pain for every second. I will keep you awake and conscious to feel every single fucking second. I will make you bleed so very fucking slowly you will beg for death... and I will make you wait. I will make you wait until your body can't bleed any more. I will make you beg and plead for your life like you did to me. You WILL beg...
George: snorts a laugh. You couldn't. You're weak. You've always been weak. A coward hiding away from reality, too scared to face what you were... what you still are. You're a fucking whore, Jaimie.
Theo: safety off, clicks back the hammer. Try me, please. I have been waiting twenty years for this. I want you to be a stubborn arsehole. I want to make you beg. Fucking try me...
George: I wont do it...
Theo: If you do it, that will be it. I will leave here, and I will destroy your sordid little collection. You will die a sad and lonely old man that no one knew.
George: And if I don't?
Theo: Then your life will end in agony, and you will die branded a kiddy fucking pervert, murdered by a vengeful father that would be cheered as a hero if anyone knew who it was. People will line up to piss on your grave, and even the worms will refuse to go near your mutilated corpse. You die a sad and lonely old man who committed suicide, or a perverted child porn maker that was brutally tortured to death like the monster that you are. Your choice...




In the living room. George sat on the sofa, blunt razor blade in hand. Theo stood facing him, gun still in a gloved hand. The curtains closed.

Theo: ….......... Wrist to elbow..... Wont take as long to... You know...
George: Yeah...
Theo: ….... Fucking do it then!
George: Fuck you! Fucking whore.
Theo: STOP calling me that you fucking paedo!
George: Oh very fucking original!
Theo: Shut the FUCK up!
George: Fuck off and shoot me then, you fucking coward.
Theo: NO! I will NOT be a murdering bastard like you!
George: I never killed anyone!
Theo: You near enough killed Jaimie...




In the living room. George sat on the sofa, hypodermic needle filled with a clear fluid in his hand. Blunt razor blade on the table between them. Theo stood facing him, gun still in a gloved hand. The curtains closed.

George: … What is it?
Theo: Sodium thiopental and potassium chloride mix. What they use for lethal injections. Make you fall asleep, then stop your heart. Wont feel a thing.
George: … Why?
Theo: Because unlike you, I have a heart. I have mercy. You need to die, but I am not a monster. I wont make you suffer like you made me...



Several hours later. Late at night. In the living room. George sprawled on the floor, blood dry where it had ran from his mouth and nose. Unseeing eyes open, bloodshot, no longer seeping the crimson liquid down cold cheeks. The smell of piss and shit filling the room, mingled with blood and stained the carpet a gruesome shade. Pale face contorted with a terrible agony that had lasted to the last beat of the now still heart. The hypodermic still in his hand, covered in his fingerprints and his alone. Neat bleach injection. What a horrific way to take your own life...

In the upstairs front bedroom. The cupboard door open. The boxes, files, hundreds of photo books and videos clear as day to see. No sign of a disturbance at all in the house. No fingerprints or sign of anyone ever having been in other than the owner. A sick and twisted perverted old paedo who finally felt the guilt and took his own life. The quiet, peaceful, serene community no more. Who knows what the neighbours could be up to behind closed doors...

A harsh wind was blowing across the moors, the heather and long stemmed mosses dancing and creating a moving carpet of colour and life. Even though the sun was beating down on the two figures as they walked, the wind gave the air a sharp chill and Theo pulled his jacket closer around him, thankful he had remembered to wear an extra shirt. Fine calfskin gloves covered his hands, keeping the chill out without restricting the movement of his fingers. That was the main issue with living so high above sea level, even in the height of summer it was windy and chilly. It didn’t overly affect Theo, these were the conditions he had grown more than used to living in, but a few temperate US summers had softened him a little and he had soon found himself wishing for a thicker jumper under the waterproof jacket that he wore. Conversation with the much older man walking beside him had been idle, the lazy pleasantries shared between two people who didn’t really know one another and were still unsure whether or not they actually liked each others company.

Theo: Thank you again for sorting this out on such short notice, sir.
William: William, please. And you're more'n welcome, Mister Gain.
Theo: Joe. So how long have you lived out here, William?”
William: All me life now. Parents moved 'ere from the city when I were a nip, been here since.
Theo: And you’ve always managed game?
William: A little. Used ta have a few small businesses, y’know. Retired three year ago. Had a friend look after t’ouse and land fer us while we were away, kept everythin’ runnin’.
Theo: Wow, that’s a lotta trust to put in one person.
William: Aye it is, but I’d trust him wi' me life.

Several large dogs loped around the vast field, rummaging through the long grasses and occasionally darting into the bushes in the hope of driving something out of hiding. It was very much the closed season for shooting, but it was amazing what money could buy you if you knew you were dealing with someone dodgy as fuck. Make the right offer in the right way, and you could get whatever it was you were after, particularly if you were smooth talking New York businessman 'Joe Gain', only in the country for a few days and willing to pay a handsome sum to sample shooting in the UK. One of the lurcher’s, a tall and elegant brindle with a white muzzle, barked as it flushed a hare out of a stocky bush a few feet away from the hunters. Too quick it was gone from sight, and the owner of the land sent the dogs further out so they might actually get a chance to aim before the quarry was able to dart to safety.

Joe Gain had been a rather impromptu name choice, created from remembering a bottle of Rogaine he had seen in the supermarket while getting the blonde dye for his hair. It worked though, and not a single question had been asked when he had said how much he would be willing to pay for the chance to shoot at UK prey. Because, you know, all the moose and coyotes and cougars in the states get boring after a while. Sometimes it takes shooting a mighty rabbit or pheasant to really feel like a man. Yeah right… Theo hadn't properly shot at quarry for many years, only having to despatch the occasional rabbit or fox that interfered with Hadley's livestock or crops. The electric fencing kept many of them out, but there was sometimes the rogue animal that got in, and it had to be dealt with before it caused too much disruption. One of Theo's fondest memories of his time in the states so far was the time he and Alex had gone “fox shooting” in the middle of the night. There was indeed a fox on the grounds, but it would be lucky that night, for neither man had been blessed with the inclination to shoot anything. Several beers, a packet of jaffa cakes and many stories shared back and forth, and both men had returned to their homes cold but smiling ear to ear.

He doubted today would have a similar ending...

Theo: So you got no family, William? If you don't mind me asking, of course.
William: Nah, not any more. Wife died three years ago, cancer.
Theo: … Oh... I'm... sorry to hear that...

Theo was quiet for a long moment, allowing that new discovery to sink in. He shouldn't have been surprised, not really. She would have been... what? At least sixty five by now. That family had never exactly been known for long lifespans, most of the grandparents never lived to see their grand-kids born. Maybe that was for the best, all things considered. And yet still this new discovery hit him harder than he ever could have predicted it would. It felt like a lead weight had been placed in his chest, causing his heart to beat erratically and his breathing to become laboured. He fought hard to maintain his outward calmness and serenity, but his thoughts were now even more troubled than they were before. Where was she now? Buried? Cremated? Had she died ignorant of the truth, never knowing what had happened in the very house that this land was attached to? In a way, Theo hoped she had. No one should ever have to know what horrors their neglect had caused for another. But in another, much darker and gradually becoming more dominant part of his mind, he hoped she had found out. He hoped she died guilt-ridden and remorseful. Crying preferably.

William: Yeah, it was real tough time. That's when I decided ta sell the businesses, just run the farm full time like.
Theo: Makes sense. You have stunning grounds here, just like I imagined they would be.
William: Ta. You not have much countryside where you are?
Theo: No, none at all. It's a two hour drive to get to good shooting territory. And you have all this literally on your doorstep...
William: Yeah. Hard work to keep up wi' like, but wouldn't 'av it any other way.
Theo: I can imagine. If I had something like this, I wouldn't swap it for the world.

That at least was true. All his life Theo had wanted a house with some land, isolated and quiet, away from the chaos of city life. As much as he had thought he loved life in London, his heart was always in the endless miles of rolling fields beyond. A small farm house surrounded by paddocks containing horses, sheep and cows. An old orchard with pigs rummaging for the fallen fruit. Maybe a small fishing lake, a weeping willow's elegant branches draping into the water. The home of his dreams. Dreams that could never become a reality. The bark of one of the lurcher's snapped him out of his thoughts, a young grouse taking flight a few meters away from where the men stood. The rifle was raised, aimed, fired. The grouse kept flying.

Theo: Ah shit. Been so long since I shot at feather. Rusty.
William: So I see.
Theo: Well, means I'll just have to do better on the next one.
William: Too right. Can't have ya goin' home empty handed, ey?
Theo: No, that would suck... So... you never had any kids?
William: …........ Yeah, we had a boy... He... he was ran over when he was fifteen. Some fuckin' wog in a truck killed him... Our Jaimie...
Theo: …........ Oh............ I'm so sorry to hear that.....




Money can buy you anything, if you know how to promote it properly. With the right leverage it is possible to get anything you want, and if you know how the person you're dealing with reacts to the paper gold, the sky is your limit. It was only a few hours later that Theo found himself mounted on a grey gelding, riding across the field beside William, who was mounted on a bay mare. The day was slowly rolling into early evening, the wind beginning to die down but the evening chill beginning to settle. The breeze was ruffling short blonde-dyed hair, neither man wearing a helmet. The sun was just starting to dip behind the horizon, the street lights in the far distance coming on, and Theo's gloved fingers were buried deep into the horses' mane, hanging on for dear life. Apparently Joe Gain had never ridden a horse before, and would pay handsomely to be able to have the chance while he was in the UK. William had been only too willing to accept the money, and soon had his stable boy get the two horses tacked up for a quiet ride across the fields. William's seat was clearly shaky, no doubt never taught, just pottering around the fields as and when the mood took him. To look at Joe's position really wasn't all that much better, sitting awkwardly in the saddle and clinging to the poor nag. If Niall could see me now, I would get such a bollocking from him...

The news of what the word was about Jaimie's disappearance was yet another lead weight in Theo's chest, yet another part of the jigsaw that was distorted and gruesome beyond any hope of recovery. Of course the truth of what had happened had never come out, there would have been people out looking for him. There would have been newspaper reports and missing person posters. Instead there had been... nothing. It made sense now. Of course there had been no attempt to find him. Who goes out looking for a kid that got ran over, and should therefore be with his family?

But this raised one huge question... why had they said he was dead in the first place? As far as parents went there were hardly attentive, but why would they have lied like that? It made no sense. They would disappear for weeks at a time, off on one business trip or another. Theo held no delusions about it, he knew he had been unwanted and not loved or cared about. Birthdays and Christmas were things that happened to other people, to other kids. George saw to that. But... it still made no sense. If he went missing, why not just report him as missing? Why go to all the effort of saying he had been ran over?

Unless....

'Joe Gain' slowly started to gain confidence, using the horses neck to lever himself to an upright sitting position. The fingers of one hand stayed tangled in the geldings mane, holding on tightly, the others reaching for the pistol that was hidden under his jumper. The same one he had held in George's house the day before. The single shot rang out clear as thunder, piercing the quiet of the moorland air and sending both horses rearing up on their hindlegs in terror. Theo had been ready for it, feet out of the stirrups, leaning slightly to the side. As soon as the gelding's front feet left the earth he slid out of the saddle with well practised grace, landing on his feet at the horses side just as it's feet returned to earth and it bolted away from the frightening noise. The bay mare followed the grey, the pair of horses bolting across the field away from the source of their sudden terror. William had not been prepared like Theo had, was not able to predict the sudden violent reaction of the horse.

Theo walked up to the old man as he lay on the floor on his back, having been catapulted backwards off the spooked horse. Blood was already starting to seep into the grass from William's head. God only knew what injuries he had received... but he was still alive. Still awake. Still conscious. Good...

Theo: You knew, didn't you?
William: Wh... what just...
Theo: Doesn't matter. Answer the question.
William: Knew... what?
Theo: About George... You KNEW what he was doing to me, and you did nothing...
William: Wh... Who are you?
Theo: A ghost... I'm dead, William. You said so yourself. Ran over twenty years ago.
William: You... you can't be...
Theo: I. Am. Jaimie.
William: NO! No, you can't be...
Theo: You were home for my thirteen birthday. You'd been away for almost a month, but you were home on my birthday. You spoke to George, patted me on the head like a fucking dog, and then went again...
William: But... you can't...
Theo: He had some friends around that day, didn't he? You took money from them all... I remember now... Funny just how many “uncles” one kid can have...
William: I never... I never meant...
Theo: YOU KNEW! You KNEW what he was doing, and you took advantage. Only you.... Only you could. Only you would... Did mum know?
William: I ne--
Theo: Did. She. KNOW?
William: NO! She didn't know...
Theo: You TWAT!




The wind whipped across the Saddleworth moors, making the grasses and long mosses dance like a living carpet. A grey horse stood loose in a field, untacked and grazing. A bay stood near it, still carrying its saddle and bridle. It's always a shame when a novice rider pushes their luck, goes out for a ride without someone to accompany them. You never knew what could happen. It was always worse when they didn't wear a helmet. Poor bastard fell off, cracked his skull open like a watermelon. If only he'd have had an experience rider with him...

Rob: ….... Fucking hell, Jay...
Theo: Yeah...
Rob: … No wonder you were so fucked up when we met...

Theo sat on the arm chair in the living room of the small apartment in Merton, just outside central London. There was a mug of tea in his hands, the brown liquid long gone cold. Across the room and to the side was a sofa where Rob sat, his fingers running idly through Mitch's short hair. The youngest of the three men was lay on the sofa, his head in his husbands lap, calm blue eyes watching Theo with their usual quiet intelligence. It had been almost four years since Theo and Mitch had last seen each other, and the reunion had been a mixture of gladness and silent sadness. The married pair had been able to tell instantly that something was very, very wrong with Theo, but only Rob had even the tiniest idea about what it could have been. Theo was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained, and he had told them everything. Every single little detail that he could recall from his past. These were the people that he had known since he had first moved to the city, the people that he had spent four years living with before he had moved into the club. He had abandoned all contact with them when he had fled to the states, and he realised now just how much of a mistake that had been. They had always been there since he was fifteen, he never should have just cut contact with them. Maybe they could have helped him through it all, made it so the past few days would never have had to have happened.

Theo hadn't known. There was no way he could have known. What little boy would ever have expected their father to have been capable of such things? He had never really known either of his parents, but he had always hung on to the thin belief that maybe they were not monsters. He had been unwanted, of that much he had always known, but to find out that his dad had not only known but encouraged what had happened upset him more than he would ever have been able to predict. Theo had always prided himself on being strong, powerful, immune to the fickleness of emotions. But he was hurting. Everything had finally caught up to him, and it was agonising.

He had watched it all. He had watched George pick up the hypodermic needle that the elderly man thought was filled with chemicals that would give him a quick, painless end. He had watched the look of confusion cross the wrinkled face as the arm started to itch and burn, and then he had watched that face become contorted with agony as the bleach began to spread through his body, destroying the blood vessels. It hadn't taken long for the powerful chemicals to spread, and soon blood was flowing from George's nose and mouth, leaking from the tear ducts in his bloodshot eyes. He had become that nightmarish vision, the true physical embodiment of all the pain and horror he had inflicted on Jaimie all those years ago. As George lay on the floor, convulsing and defecating as he lost control of his body, Theo had watched in silence. There was no smile on his face, no look of horror. Just cold, calm observance. Twenty years was a very long time to have to wait for justice.

Rob and Mitch had sat silent through it all, listening with quiet respect as Theo had told them everything. They had brought him tea when he needed it, handed him tissues and held him as he cried. It had all needed to come out, needed to be vented, and they had been there to hear it all. Theo felt guilty, suddenly turning up on their doorstep after so many years and just dumping all his issues on them, but he had known them for so very long, and he simply didn't have anyone else he could turn to any more. There was no one in America he could entrust with all of this, no one he would lay all this out in the open to. Not any more...




The cold night air was clinging to the balcony where Theo stood, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily into the dark sky. He wore nothing but his boxers, his skin goose-bumped from the chill of the air, and he leaned on the bannister surrounding the little balcony that was attached to the bedroom he was staying in. There was a glass of Pernod in his hand, the sounds of the city below, and a soft light coming from the room behind him. After what felt like an eternity the door behind him slid opened and closed again, and after a moment Rob was stood beside him. Theo did not care about Rob seeing his back, he'd seen it countless times before. He looked over his shoulder, saw Mitch curled up on the bed in the room beyond the door, and turned to Rob.

Theo: He okay?
Rob: Yeah, he's fine. He's happy... might be walking a bit funny tomorrow, but he's okay.
Theo: Tired, whisper quiet laugh. Poor thing...
Rob: … Jay... you know he's going to want to come with us tomorrow...
Theo: I know... But he can't. He'd get eaten alive in there.
Rob: Yeah. I remember what it's like... What are we going to say? He'll be upset if he thinks we're leaving him behind.
Theo: I don't know... give me some time to work on it. I'll think of something.
Rob: I just don't want you to get hurt, Jay. We've both missed you.
Theo: I know, I've missed you both too... I'm sorry I left it so long, and came back with all this bullshit.
Rob: Not your fault, we're just glad to see you again. Don't leave it so long again though, ey?
Theo: I wont, I promise. Regular contact from now on... Thanks for all of this, Rob. I do appreciate it, putting me up and that.
Rob: It's all good, I know you'd do the same for us. Just... promise me you're going to be careful tomorrow, please. These last few days have been bad, but... tomorrow will be worse...
Theo: I know...
Rob: Gently pulls him into a hug. I'll be there. I'll be watching your back.
Theo: I know. Thanks Rob...




And Rob was right. As Theo lay tangled on the bed in the apartment, he ran through in his mind all the things that could possibly go wrong the next day. The list was never ending. George committing suicide, his dad falling from the horse... small, trivial details. Tomorrow would be the real test, the real trial. Tomorrow would take more than just good luck if it was going to go anything liked Theo was hoping and praying it would, and he knew that luck was never on his side. Tomorrow would be the pivotal point, the day that decided the entire of the rest of Theo's life. He would either return to America in a few days having accomplished his mission, or he would fall completely. There would only be one shot at this, and if he failed, it would destroy them all.

Hang on Marcus, I'm coming...

“Well, this brings back some memories...”

It was strange how things worked out sometimes, how events in a persons life can twist and wind together to create mad moments that live on in memories forever. As Theo and Rob headed down Dean Street at 10pm on that rainy Sunday night, one evening not so long ago bubbled in Theo's consciousness. Last Halloween Hadley had held a masked ball, each and every staff member and student dressed up in finery likely never before seen in that nut house. So many people and so many costumes had made the hall a mass of colour and movement and life, and that evening was fondly embedded into Theo's memories. It was the night that he had been allowed to sample a bit of what childhood must have felt like for the average person, a sample of what life could have been like had he not been born into that particular family. It was the night he and Neva had played.

Like naughty school kids they had placed dares for each other, public displays of madness that could have been humiliating, but were nothing other than the merry entertainment that they had been intended to be. Neva's serenade, Theo's death scene, Neva's loud exclamation about needing the little ladies room, Theo dipping and greeting one of the teachers. Each had been entered into with gusto and giddy hearts, and it was with nothing but fondness that Theo looked back on that evening. It had been perhaps the most pivotal turning point since his arrival in the states. He had learned how to have fun and play, he had told Neva about his relationship, and most importantly, he had learned how to chill the fuck out. So many years of walking along a knife edge had made him constantly bristly and resistant to anything other than what he dictated, but playing that silly little game with Neva had taught him that it was okay to let go sometimes. He had learned that it didn't matter if he looked a bit silly in front of others, that it didn't matter if he allowed himself to have brief snippets of the childhood that had been denied to him. That it didn't matter if sometimes someone else made up the rules.

Tonight, however, he would be making all the rules.

Perhaps it was Theo needing a connection with something that he had nothing but love for that made him wear that Halloween costume again on that rainy evening in London, perhaps it was simply because he had nothing else that would be really suitable any more. Whatever the reason, Theo found himself inside the beating heart of the club with Rob at his side, the sleek highwayman get-up and half-face mask obscuring his features from easy recognition. Rob would likely go completely unrecognised, neither he or Mitch had any real liking of the club scene, but Theo had lived and worked inside these walls for over a decade, and he was surprised by how little it had changed. The same huge wooden doors at the entrance, the same dance floor surrounded by the same bars, the same cages hanging from the ceiling. The music was blaring but highly melodic, filling the room and sending the sweet vocals into the ears of the bodies moving in the darkened room.




Even though he had been away for over two years, Theo remembered. He remembered every shady little corner and every hidden passageway into the real workings of the club. This place had been his home, his lair, and he recalled it all as if he had never been away. Many of the faces were the same, people he had known and some he had worked with what now felt like a lifetime ago. That was the purpose behind coming on a Sunday, though. The club was busy and full of life, but it was less manic than it would have been on Friday or Saturday. Enough people to blend in with, but not so many that Theo couldn't keep a close eye on what was going on around him. Who was going where, who was doing what. Theo could easily remember room six's location but he did not head straight there, as much as he wanted to. It would have looked unusually suspect had two random newcomers headed straight into the club and immediately gone for the back rooms. The club made money from the main room, but it was in the secretive bowels of the building that the real trading took place.




It was just gone Midnight, Coldplay's 'Violet Hill' pouring through the air as a young woman in ballet boots and not much else danced on the platform in the centre of the room, gyrating around a man tied to a pole as people watched on. Theo and Rob leaned on the bar, chatting idly. To any people passing they were just two friends enjoying a night out, but they were carefully running down their plan one last time, making sure they had taken every possible precaution to try to avoid anything going horrifically wrong. They would only have a tight window of time and would need every ounce of luck they could muster on their side, but even if every possible thing they had planned for went as they wanted it to, there was still a whole world of things that could go wrong.

After what felt like an eternity the bouncer that was covering one of the doors into the clubs basement left, swapped for one that Theo did not recognise. This was their chance. After a moment they moved towards the door, hand in hand, Theo's head held low and his shoulders drooped slightly. The quieter and more reserved he could seem, the less likely he was to be recognised by anyone. As they moved down the stairs into the basement after a few quiet words, money and a key were exchanged between Rob and the bouncer the chances of Theo being recognised were dramatically increased, but he was hoping the disguise would last as long as humanly possible. The corridor downstairs was much quieter than the pounding noise of the main hall, still dimly lit with numbered doors along both sides. It was empty of other people, not surprising for coming on 1am on a Monday morning. Rob lead Theo by the hand down the corridor, pausing outside room number six. The small light above the door lock glowed red, showing the room was currently in use. Rob looked to Theo, who nodded once. Rob inserted the key, turning it and swinging the door open.

Theo looked into the room. Blinked. Then blinked again.

He saw the blue eyed blonde gagged and tied to the wall.

He saw the tattoo on his left calf.

He saw the oh so very familiar woman standing in front of him with a scalpel in her hand, staring at the newcomers.

He saw the blood.



And then he snapped...