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Well, odder, anyway. I'm sort of half-way into writing a James/Nikola piece, and this sort of came out as an addendum that took on a life of its own -_-;
Title: Legacy
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Sanctuary
Characters/Pairings: Declan Macrae, Nikola Tesla. Past Nikola/James and Declan/James. Sort of. *smiles sheepishly*
Summary: Disturbing a grieving vampire was one of the riskier things he'd done in a while
Wordcount: 1712
Notes/Warnings: Set just after 2x02, End of Nights II. Um. Odd.
Disclaimer: Not mine
Title: Legacy
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Sanctuary
Characters/Pairings: Declan Macrae, Nikola Tesla. Past Nikola/James and Declan/James. Sort of. *smiles sheepishly*
Summary: Disturbing a grieving vampire was one of the riskier things he'd done in a while
Wordcount: 1712
Notes/Warnings: Set just after 2x02, End of Nights II. Um. Odd.
Disclaimer: Not mine
Legacy
"I thought I might find you here," Declan said, very quietly, as he stepped into James' old room. What was left of it, anyway. The rebuilding efforts hadn't touched this area yet. Declan hadn't let them.
The figure waiting inside turned on a snarl, clawed hands sweeping up, and Declan raised his empty hands hurriedly, that age-old gesture for 'I'm unarmed, please don't kill me'. It tended to get a lot of wear, around the Sanctuary network, but even Declan had to admit that disturbing a grieving vampire was one of the riskier things he'd done in a while. Or it would have been, any other week but this one.
"It's just me," he soothed, keeping his hands raised and in plain sight, his tone level and sure. "The security measures aren't fully up yet, but I caught you on one of the remaining cameras. I didn't tell anyone."
Nikola Tesla quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. Still very much in his more feral face. Jumpy. They were all bloody jumpy, right now. "Didn't you?" the vampire purred, a rich heavy drawl that spoke more to teeth than seduction, though there was a little of that, too. James hadn't lied, all those stories he told.
"I thought you'd prefer some privacy," Declan offered, a little wryly. And then couldn't quite keep himself from adding: "You've always been discrete about your visits. I just thought you'd like to keep things that way."
Something flashed in the vampire's face, something surprised and predatory in black-glistening eyes and a disbelieving, appreciative quirk of a lip that revealed far too many teeth. Declan swallowed. Oh, that might not have been his wisest move, he did allow.
"So," Tesla purred, stalking closer, steps precise and careful in the hurricane of James' papers across the floor, a neat, deadly figment of the present in the detritus of the past. "James really did tell you about me, did he? I am surprised."
Declan raised his own eyebrow at that, couldn't quite help the challenging squaring of his shoulders towards the approaching vampire, the slightly affronted tilt of his chin. "You shouldn't be," he said, softly. Almost reproachfully. "There were few more private men than James Watson, but even he needed someone to confide in once in a while. Even he needed someone to trust."
Tesla paused, tilted his head to study Declan, a flash of humanity quite literally softening his eyes, his whole body, layered across the danger of him. Something human, layered over the predator. Despite himself, Declan had to find it fascinating. Just a little.
He'd been in this job a touch too long, maybe.
"And that was you, was it?" Tesla asked him softly, still studying him quietly. Still weighing Declan just as much as Declan was measuring him, with that same jagged softness Declan could feel in his own chest, that same aching grief that Declan understood so perfectly. It was why he'd come up here alone. It was why he'd had to speak, had to come.
"I like to think so," he answered, as quietly, meeting those black, inhuman eyes steadily. Acknowledging the depth of human feeling behind them. "Though in his defense, he probably wouldn't have told me about you if I hadn't found the notes you'd left him when you visited." He smiled, a little sadly. "He never did like asking me to keep secrets from the network, and he wouldn't tell yours to anyone."
Tesla flinched. Just a small thing, a little flicker through a neat figure, a quiver that Declan wouldn't have seen had the vampire not been standing so perfectly still. Tesla flinched.
"James always did keep his word," the vampire said, with an odd little smile. "Kept me secret for more than sixty years. Though I did keep a few of his in return." The smile flickered. "James was always the one of us who traded best in secrets."
Like a vampire, dead to all the world, including the Sanctuary network ... except for single evenings scattered across decades, sneaking into an old friend's room, just to touch something familiar. Just to kiss a man steeped in secrets, and remember better times together, and leave some jesting suggestions for better security as he left. Every time. Declan had seen the notes.
"That he was," Declan nodded. A recognition of a fundamental truth, and also of an inherited responsibility. He'd been the one James had trusted with some of those secrets. He was the one responsible for them now. Responsible for the man in front of him, and the shared burden of grief. "And one doesn't work for him for years without learning a little something about discretion ..." he offered, very quietly.
Tesla smiled at him properly, then. Or perhaps Declan only thought so, because it was a human smile, the vampire slipping away beneath the man's skin as he watched, leaving only the glitter of blunt teeth, and a knowing shine in no-longer-black eyes. Declan could feel himself slump a little in relief, could feel some animal part of him relax as tooth and claw slipped away, and knew that the vampire saw it. Knew the acknowledgement of it was part of that little smile.
"I can see why he liked you," Tesla mused, watching him with tilted head and a shine in human eyes, a glimmer of sly intelligence perhaps altogether more dangerous than the vampire's visage he'd worn a second before, but Declan didn't mind that so much. Like he'd said. He'd worked for James Watson, not to mention Helen Magnus, for years. He couldn't match a vampire for strength, but he was more than confident he could hold his own in games of mental jousting, and didn't at all mind giving a grin to show it. Tesla smirked appreciatively at him. "Oh yes," the vampire murmured. "I can see why James would have liked you."
"He trusted me," Declan said, quietly. "I was proud to earn it." He had been. More than anything, he'd been proud to earn that.
"... He did more than that," Tesla said slowly, looking at him. James' papers beneath his feet, James' life strewn around his figure. He looked Declan up and down, that sharp, glittering intelligence in his eyes. "He was more than that, to you," Tesla said, very quietly, and it wasn't a question, as a sharp, cruel smirk crept across his features. It wasn't a question. "Were you proud to do that, too?"
For a second, Declan just stared. For a second, there was nothing but shock. And then ... he'd never been a violent man. The last thing he'd ever been was that. But for a moment, there, the fury was so startlingly, savagely deep that he almost tried it anyway. Almost lashed out despite everything he'd ever thought he'd been.
He didn't. In the end, he didn't. But it was a fight, and the vampire had to see that. Tesla had to have seen that.
"It wasn't like that," Declan managed, thick and strangled with anger. "It was never like that!"
Tesla smirked, every inch the predator once again, for all he wore a human face, but there was something still soft in his eyes. Something that didn't quite match. Something that loosened the fist of rage in Declan's chest.
"You can't think he loved you," the vampire said, soft and brutal. "James never let himself love anyone, after ... well."
He smiled, a sharp, black glitter. He didn't mean himself. Tesla wasn't calling himself James' last love. There was too much sorrow in his eyes for that, and Declan knew enough of the Five, knew enough of James, to guess. And to understand, seeing that the vampire knew it too. Seeing that Tesla understood James, and Declan, perhaps all too well. Well enough to test. Well enough to claw at a pain the echo of his own, and test the depth of it.
And damn him anyway, Declan had to respect him for that. He'd not believed James, when the man said he'd have to, but as ever, James Watson proved right in the end. Even in death.
"No," he said, very quietly. Making himself meet the vampire's eyes. Making Tesla see the steadiness there, the understanding. "I never thought he loved me. But he gave me his trust. He gave me that. And as I said," he smiled, sad and true, "... I was proud to earn it."
Something moved in Tesla's features, that same quirk of a lip, that same softening of his eyes, but it was slower, now. A slower, deeper appreciation, and when he measured Declan this time, there was nothing sneering in it, nothing predatory. The vampire grinned, hard and sad, such that Declan had to wonder if his response to every pain was to smile around it.
"I said you have big shoes to fill," Tesla looked at him, with tilted head and slow, steady measurement. "James left this place to you. He trusted you with it. You should make something of it." A small, strange smile. "If the Five can't be immortal, despite our best efforts ... someone should make sure we leave something solid behind instead. Something to make our deaths matter. James chose you for that. He trusted you for that."
"And I'll live up to it," Declan promised. No. Swore, to a man from another time, even as James had been. "I'll earn his trust. I give you my word."
"And for some reason," Tesla answered, slow and almost laughing, "I think it worth something." He grinned, bright and deep, and moved past Declan, shoved neatly past him in a predator's glide, and tossed back over his shoulder. "I'll let myself out. I always did. Oh, and MacRae?"
Declan turned to face him, turned to watch him go, James Watson's last visitor. "Yes?" he asked, as neutrally as he could, fighting his own wry little smile. Tesla's grin widened for him as he pointed back into the room.
"I left some thoughts on the dresser, for your security once you rebuild." That dazzling, flashing grin. "It seemed ... appropriate. Old habits die hard."
"... Yes," Declan said softly, watching him go. Looking over at a fresh piece of paper among the many in the remains of James Watson's life, looking at a note to match the ones he'd once pulled from a box in the man's drawer, and unwittingly invited himself into James' confidences.
"I suppose they do at that."
"I thought I might find you here," Declan said, very quietly, as he stepped into James' old room. What was left of it, anyway. The rebuilding efforts hadn't touched this area yet. Declan hadn't let them.
The figure waiting inside turned on a snarl, clawed hands sweeping up, and Declan raised his empty hands hurriedly, that age-old gesture for 'I'm unarmed, please don't kill me'. It tended to get a lot of wear, around the Sanctuary network, but even Declan had to admit that disturbing a grieving vampire was one of the riskier things he'd done in a while. Or it would have been, any other week but this one.
"It's just me," he soothed, keeping his hands raised and in plain sight, his tone level and sure. "The security measures aren't fully up yet, but I caught you on one of the remaining cameras. I didn't tell anyone."
Nikola Tesla quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. Still very much in his more feral face. Jumpy. They were all bloody jumpy, right now. "Didn't you?" the vampire purred, a rich heavy drawl that spoke more to teeth than seduction, though there was a little of that, too. James hadn't lied, all those stories he told.
"I thought you'd prefer some privacy," Declan offered, a little wryly. And then couldn't quite keep himself from adding: "You've always been discrete about your visits. I just thought you'd like to keep things that way."
Something flashed in the vampire's face, something surprised and predatory in black-glistening eyes and a disbelieving, appreciative quirk of a lip that revealed far too many teeth. Declan swallowed. Oh, that might not have been his wisest move, he did allow.
"So," Tesla purred, stalking closer, steps precise and careful in the hurricane of James' papers across the floor, a neat, deadly figment of the present in the detritus of the past. "James really did tell you about me, did he? I am surprised."
Declan raised his own eyebrow at that, couldn't quite help the challenging squaring of his shoulders towards the approaching vampire, the slightly affronted tilt of his chin. "You shouldn't be," he said, softly. Almost reproachfully. "There were few more private men than James Watson, but even he needed someone to confide in once in a while. Even he needed someone to trust."
Tesla paused, tilted his head to study Declan, a flash of humanity quite literally softening his eyes, his whole body, layered across the danger of him. Something human, layered over the predator. Despite himself, Declan had to find it fascinating. Just a little.
He'd been in this job a touch too long, maybe.
"And that was you, was it?" Tesla asked him softly, still studying him quietly. Still weighing Declan just as much as Declan was measuring him, with that same jagged softness Declan could feel in his own chest, that same aching grief that Declan understood so perfectly. It was why he'd come up here alone. It was why he'd had to speak, had to come.
"I like to think so," he answered, as quietly, meeting those black, inhuman eyes steadily. Acknowledging the depth of human feeling behind them. "Though in his defense, he probably wouldn't have told me about you if I hadn't found the notes you'd left him when you visited." He smiled, a little sadly. "He never did like asking me to keep secrets from the network, and he wouldn't tell yours to anyone."
Tesla flinched. Just a small thing, a little flicker through a neat figure, a quiver that Declan wouldn't have seen had the vampire not been standing so perfectly still. Tesla flinched.
"James always did keep his word," the vampire said, with an odd little smile. "Kept me secret for more than sixty years. Though I did keep a few of his in return." The smile flickered. "James was always the one of us who traded best in secrets."
Like a vampire, dead to all the world, including the Sanctuary network ... except for single evenings scattered across decades, sneaking into an old friend's room, just to touch something familiar. Just to kiss a man steeped in secrets, and remember better times together, and leave some jesting suggestions for better security as he left. Every time. Declan had seen the notes.
"That he was," Declan nodded. A recognition of a fundamental truth, and also of an inherited responsibility. He'd been the one James had trusted with some of those secrets. He was the one responsible for them now. Responsible for the man in front of him, and the shared burden of grief. "And one doesn't work for him for years without learning a little something about discretion ..." he offered, very quietly.
Tesla smiled at him properly, then. Or perhaps Declan only thought so, because it was a human smile, the vampire slipping away beneath the man's skin as he watched, leaving only the glitter of blunt teeth, and a knowing shine in no-longer-black eyes. Declan could feel himself slump a little in relief, could feel some animal part of him relax as tooth and claw slipped away, and knew that the vampire saw it. Knew the acknowledgement of it was part of that little smile.
"I can see why he liked you," Tesla mused, watching him with tilted head and a shine in human eyes, a glimmer of sly intelligence perhaps altogether more dangerous than the vampire's visage he'd worn a second before, but Declan didn't mind that so much. Like he'd said. He'd worked for James Watson, not to mention Helen Magnus, for years. He couldn't match a vampire for strength, but he was more than confident he could hold his own in games of mental jousting, and didn't at all mind giving a grin to show it. Tesla smirked appreciatively at him. "Oh yes," the vampire murmured. "I can see why James would have liked you."
"He trusted me," Declan said, quietly. "I was proud to earn it." He had been. More than anything, he'd been proud to earn that.
"... He did more than that," Tesla said slowly, looking at him. James' papers beneath his feet, James' life strewn around his figure. He looked Declan up and down, that sharp, glittering intelligence in his eyes. "He was more than that, to you," Tesla said, very quietly, and it wasn't a question, as a sharp, cruel smirk crept across his features. It wasn't a question. "Were you proud to do that, too?"
For a second, Declan just stared. For a second, there was nothing but shock. And then ... he'd never been a violent man. The last thing he'd ever been was that. But for a moment, there, the fury was so startlingly, savagely deep that he almost tried it anyway. Almost lashed out despite everything he'd ever thought he'd been.
He didn't. In the end, he didn't. But it was a fight, and the vampire had to see that. Tesla had to have seen that.
"It wasn't like that," Declan managed, thick and strangled with anger. "It was never like that!"
Tesla smirked, every inch the predator once again, for all he wore a human face, but there was something still soft in his eyes. Something that didn't quite match. Something that loosened the fist of rage in Declan's chest.
"You can't think he loved you," the vampire said, soft and brutal. "James never let himself love anyone, after ... well."
He smiled, a sharp, black glitter. He didn't mean himself. Tesla wasn't calling himself James' last love. There was too much sorrow in his eyes for that, and Declan knew enough of the Five, knew enough of James, to guess. And to understand, seeing that the vampire knew it too. Seeing that Tesla understood James, and Declan, perhaps all too well. Well enough to test. Well enough to claw at a pain the echo of his own, and test the depth of it.
And damn him anyway, Declan had to respect him for that. He'd not believed James, when the man said he'd have to, but as ever, James Watson proved right in the end. Even in death.
"No," he said, very quietly. Making himself meet the vampire's eyes. Making Tesla see the steadiness there, the understanding. "I never thought he loved me. But he gave me his trust. He gave me that. And as I said," he smiled, sad and true, "... I was proud to earn it."
Something moved in Tesla's features, that same quirk of a lip, that same softening of his eyes, but it was slower, now. A slower, deeper appreciation, and when he measured Declan this time, there was nothing sneering in it, nothing predatory. The vampire grinned, hard and sad, such that Declan had to wonder if his response to every pain was to smile around it.
"I said you have big shoes to fill," Tesla looked at him, with tilted head and slow, steady measurement. "James left this place to you. He trusted you with it. You should make something of it." A small, strange smile. "If the Five can't be immortal, despite our best efforts ... someone should make sure we leave something solid behind instead. Something to make our deaths matter. James chose you for that. He trusted you for that."
"And I'll live up to it," Declan promised. No. Swore, to a man from another time, even as James had been. "I'll earn his trust. I give you my word."
"And for some reason," Tesla answered, slow and almost laughing, "I think it worth something." He grinned, bright and deep, and moved past Declan, shoved neatly past him in a predator's glide, and tossed back over his shoulder. "I'll let myself out. I always did. Oh, and MacRae?"
Declan turned to face him, turned to watch him go, James Watson's last visitor. "Yes?" he asked, as neutrally as he could, fighting his own wry little smile. Tesla's grin widened for him as he pointed back into the room.
"I left some thoughts on the dresser, for your security once you rebuild." That dazzling, flashing grin. "It seemed ... appropriate. Old habits die hard."
"... Yes," Declan said softly, watching him go. Looking over at a fresh piece of paper among the many in the remains of James Watson's life, looking at a note to match the ones he'd once pulled from a box in the man's drawer, and unwittingly invited himself into James' confidences.
"I suppose they do at that."
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