That Hard Word

[Trevor Smokey]

A few days had passed since the incident with Peakins. Trevor now stood over a table, cigarette hanging from his mouth, rooting through a large box of belongings the confused officer had brought to his house. A gun, handcuffs, pepper spray, even his spare uniform. A small collection of CDs, his mobile phone, books concerning both American and British law, a watch, his wallet and various other bits a pieces.

Right at the bottom was a photo album. Instantly recognising it, Trevor wrenched it out and went across the room to sit down, flipping the album open on his lap and thumbing through the pages. Nearly every picture was of him and a woman, taken across several years and in many places. Relieved it hadn't been damaged in the box, Trevor closed it and held it close to his chest, letting out a deep sigh before shoving it away in the bookcase nearby.

The house was nice enough. A little old, but nice. Homely. It was no more than 30 meters from the church itself, and sat within the grounds, surrounded by mossy gravestones and fallen leaves.

He had been too stubborn to contact Brigid before now, having spent the lest few days sulking on his own, cleaning inside the church and sweeping up outside. But he wasn't going to last long by himself. Sooner or later, someone would come for him, and he was far from ready. He glanced over at the falcata that leant again the wall, and sighed again.

Pushing out of the seat, Trevor trundled over to the phone, stubbing the cigarette in the ash tray before scooping up the reciever. He hesitated for a moment, waving his head from side to side, before quickly punching Brigid's number into the phone before he could change his mind.

[Brigid Cassidy]

:: Brigid was sitting in front of the toaster, waiting for her pop tarts when the phone rang ::

"What's up, Smokey?"

[Trevor Smokey]

There was a brief silence as Trevor fiddled with the phone cord for a moment.

"I, err...I wanted to say sorry" was all he said.

[Brigid Cassidy]

:: She rolled her eyes, and shot the toaster with her finger as her breakfast popped up ::

"Forget it."

[Trevor Smokey]

Again, there was a silence.

"That's it? You're not gonna lecture me about anything? You screamed at me and broke my nose in the middle of Chicago just to..." he trailed off, letting out a groan. "You busy today?"

[Brigid Cassidy]

"Fiona does the lectures. I do face arranging."

:: She bit into a pop tart and chewed as she thought it over ::

"Not really. What's up?"

[Trevor Smokey]

"Wondered if you fancied catching up" he said, glancing again at the falcata. "The blade's getting a bit dusty."

[Brigid Cassidy]

"Alright. I'll come fetch you."

[Trevor Smokey]

"Alrighty. See ya soon" he replied, before putting down the phone and lighting up another cigarette.

Slumping back in his chair, he relaxed a little, feeling better for ringing her, and waited for a knock.

[Nikoleta]

Saint Henry's was the oldest church in Chicago that still was attached directly, and affiliated, to a cemetery, right off of Devon and Ridge. It was created in 1905 and was built in a neo-Gothic structure, clad in brick with ornamentation of limestone and bronze. The church has provided a warm and caring environment to those that worshiped here, has welcomed those that were in need, and had been the final resting place for many Chicago families for decades.

Out of the public eye, it has often been sanctuary for many Immortals passing through the city that wish to remove themselves from the Game on a temporary basis, for it is against the rules to fight amongst each other on holy ground. Often the Watchers and certain Churches have come to agreements on such protection, but only a few selected, and trusted, individuals know the truth.

Nikoleta had used this very church at one time back in 1915 for one of her students. A passenger aboard the Eastland was killed in the diaster that killed over 800 people. Nikoleta was there when he awoke from his first death and brought him here to St. Henry's to begin his indoctrination into the life of an Immortal.

And now news has reached her ears from Father Mathew that the grounds are sheltering a new Immortal once more. An Immortal that she was supposed to claim herself.

The old two story house still held warmth, but it clearly needed some tuckpointing done. Several of the bricks looked loose and so did the hand railing. When she grabbed it with a gloved hand it pushed back with a slight creak.

That was when she felt the tingling in the back of her mind that another Immortal was present. Trevor was inside and she gently rapped at the door to announce her presence, knowing they would have a most interesting conversation.

[Trevor Smokey]

The Buzz rang about Trevor's head much sooner than he had expected. It was stronger than usual, much the same as it had been when he first met Brigid. Maybe it was just being on holy land or something. He didn't really know.

Standing up from the worn out chair, he headed out into the hall and towards the door. Shoving the cigarette in his mouth, he tugged on the handle and pulled open the door.

"Hey Brig...err, hi there..." he said, taken back by the sight of another woman at his doorstep. His hand rested atop the door as he loomed in the doorway. His stomach turned to butterflies in an instant. But still, he was on holy ground.

"Can I help you love?"

[Nikoleta]

He tried to play it off cool, but she could sense the fear. Regardless of where it took place, the meeting of another Immortal that was not affiliated with your mentor caused severe anxiety. Were they here to say hello? Perhaps they were a friend of your mentor. Or worse, they had come upon sacred ground as a warning that your head was next.

"Hello." Nikoleta smiled politely with much warmth, which was far warmer then it was outside. It was chilly out, but the suede jacket helped to keep it off her skin. "I just wanted to chat for a bit if you had the time. And regardless of where we stand, I'm not here for trouble. I promise."

His mentor probably had instilled fear in him, which was good, but it was uncertain how much he knew of other Immortals. She would have to earn his trust if this was to work and take things slow.

[Trevor Smokey]

Plucking the cigarette from his mouth, Trevor eyed the woman carefully. She didn't seem to be carrying a weapon, though it wouldn't have suprised him if she was.

"Errr, I guess..." he said hesitantly. Standing aside, he held the door open for the immortal, inviting her out of the cold. "Do you even know who I am?" he asked.

[Nikoleta]

She rubbed the sides of her arms and stepped in, nodding in gratitude. "Thank you and yes, I do.

You are Trevor Smokey. An ex-Chicago officer that was killed on a drug raid. You were pronounced dead on the scene and taken to the morgue, where upon you awoke from your first death. You escaped and then found your way into an awaiting Immortal that took you in as their student and gave you a home here."

At the end of that summation, the Immortal had taken off her gloves and looked down at his weapon. A falcata. An interesting choice. It was created to solely slash and cut, which had the power of an axe behind it.

"Was this your choice?" She asked, peering down at the weapon.

[Trevor Smokey]

Trevor stayed silent for a moment, almost transfixed at how accurate the woman's account of events was. He snapped out of it quickly. He supposed she could have been a friend of Brigid's.

"Uh...yeah...I chose it...there, something wrong with it?"

[Nikoleta]

"Good." Her brown eyes approved when she set them upon the young Immortal. "That weapon is your life and will eventually become a part of you, an extension of your arm. It will take time for that to happen. Which is why you are at St. Henry's."

She motioned to the chair, "Mind if I sit?"

[Trevor Smokey]

"Uh, go ahead" Trevor replied, still in a state of confusion. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation.

"Sorry, uh, but, who are you?" he asked, half smiling.

[Nikoleta]

"Who am I?" She parroted him as she sat down. "I am the Immortal that has been following you since you arrived in Chicago three years ago and felt that you were one of us. For three years, I did my research on you and watched you from afar, but just close enough so I could be there when you awoke from your first death."

Nikoleta swallowed hard and looked up at him apologetically, "You should not have woken up alone and confused and for that I am sorry."

[Trevor Smokey]

Trevor's eyes widened. He stubbed out his cigarette in the almost full ash tray, tilting his head, his eyebrows knitted.

"You've been watching me? You've known about this for 3 years? I..."

He held his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples, before sliding his palm down the side of his face and letting his arm hang again.

"Why?"

[Nikoleta]

"Why have I been watching you?" She asked and his silence was meant for her to continue.

"Often when an Immortal senses one of us that has not suffered their first death, we decide to take them as our student. So we stay hidden from obvious sight and wait. Unfortunately it was not until your first death could I make myself known to you and what you were. I do have some contacts within the Chicago police and made sure they kept an eye on you. It was how I knew you died in that raid."