By Jeremy

May 13, 1998

Home felt strange to him now. Sixteen years of life had not erased all the good memories he had about Greenway, but fours years of action and recent events had greatly dampened them, making them hazy, unrealistic. He looked at streets he still remembered as if he'd been there only yesterday, but no longer felt the thrill he'd had of walking around and across them. He knew what this meant. This was his hometown, and so it was precious to him. But it was London which had become his home.

Besides, he hadn't come here for sight-seeing, but to study what he should do.

Thomas had said that today they would settle their arguments, and Jeremy totally agreed with the idea. It had gone on long enough, and there were a lot of reasons for things to stop. He had escape justice, and might do so a long time still, if he didn't act now, and decisively. It wasn't as easy as it would have been for others. Killing was a thing he despised, that he found base and, most of the time, brutal. Often, he'd been shocked and guilty when forced to shoot enemies in missions. Most of these men had just been doing their job.

However, he felt little distraction of this type with what he would do now. The guy had gone way, way past forgiveness by his acts, way past redemption. Way past human. The only thing he felt beside cold anger was the fact that it would irremediabely shatter any link he had to his foster parents. He's cut the cord, but this was going to have him throw it away, possibly forever. It was strange to him, when he realized he cared little about it. This was a mission. A personal one, but still a mission. Only three people knew about this: Julia, Cammy and Nathan, who'd just come back from his own personal quest in India. Nathan had been reluctant to let Jeremy go alone, and had protested vehemently.

"At least let me call up Alex. He's at Claudia's these days. I'm sure he'll help out!" the smaller man had pleaded. He had shaken his head.

"No, its not a good idea. Alex may help me to stop him, but to kill him? No. He doesn't have the reasons I have. He'd try to stop me. And I won't be able to afford it, so I'd fight him to get him out of my way. And I don't want that."

Nathan had seemed to understand this a little, but still hadn't let go of his arguments. "Tom is crazed, man! You said it yourself, you told me how bizarre, how totally monstrous he'd become. People like that may be a problem to fight, even for someone like you!"

"I know!" he'd retorted stiffly, then had relaxed his tone "I know it only too well. But you know that I have to try. I won't feel good otherwise. I already waited too long for this. This is overdue, and its between us. He made it completely personal with these children."

Still, hesitations. The crippled man wasn't convinced. He could understand him. Hell, in his position, he might have been even more adamant. But there was no time for that. He had sighed.

"Look, I wanted to tell you about it because, of all of us, you're the one who saw through him first and the one he personally hurt the most besides me. I wanted to tell you to also refrain from telling the others." a weak smile "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not too sure about that." Nate had stated bleakly,but had agreed to keep it for himself for a little wise. He had agreed with his last sentence - it had sounded like what Cammy had said, and what he thought.

Cammy...

She had argued long and hard against the entirety of his plan, and had put up excellent arguments against him going after the guy by himself. She had blamed it on pride, on stupid self-guilt and on the fact that he was too angry to see any of the clear facts in the situation. She'd been mostly right, he knew, but that didn't change the way he felt, what he thought that he should do, by himself. He had tried to explain his point of view, his reasons, but they probably sounded lame - Hell, they probably WERE when it was someone else who heard them - and she'd been utterly unconvinced. She had firmly told him that she was going as well, and nothing had seemed to look like she would be deterred.

He had loved her for that decision. But he'd also wanted her out of the situation, out of the hatred that would come to the fore in this particular battle. She,d never seem him completely hateful, and didn't want her to see it. Selfish, selfish boy he was. How much he knew. But it too had been unable to sway him from it all.

So he'd fled. Like a coward. He took a flight that was earlier than he'd told her and fled to America. He was realistic enough that he probably hadn't wrecked their relationship by it, but he knew that she would be furious at him. And hurt by it, by the fact that he just left her behind. He'd had many guilty fits when he'd been on board the plane, until he'd decided to push it to the back of his mind. It hadn't been easy, but at least, later, he could deal with it - and her - when everything was over. Right now hhe couldn't.

He shook his head as he made his way toward the place he knew things would be settled. He took his time, it wasn't like the confrontation overjoyed him and anyway he didn't have fixed hours to show up. Tom would probably wait for him. Still, he took shortcuts, into the backstreets he knew so well and which had changed very little in four years. He passed some people that knew him and remembered him, and even stopped once or twice to chat a bit. It helped relieve some of the tension he felt.

Some seemed to see his apparent youth as a target, but they reconsidered when they took note of his athletic, well-toned body, of the fact that he wore black gauntlets that seemed well-used, that he held himself in a fully confident, unafraid matter and, mostly, because the tension gave him a fierce expression that gave even the staunchest troublemaker pause. He was left alone to go about his business.

Finally he came to the place he wanted. In front of him loomed an old, abandoned warehouse, that hadn't been in use for nearly half of his life. It had changed little since the last time he'd seen it - still its same old, decrepit thing. This was the place he knew it had began - the hatred, the craziness that had, for months afterward, locked off so much of him inside a shell of indifference. Only constant work and the precious support of the other SCD Elite had allowed him to crawl out of this funk. But, even though he had lived it down, he could still remember things just like it was yesterday.

...Alex, Claudia and he arriving by car, determined to save Melissa...

...Alex and he getting off, Claudia telling them to be careful, Alex telling her to go get some help...

...the scream...the agonizing, soul-rending death scream of Melissa, which had haunted him until Cammy had first shown up...

He closed his eyes as he remembered it all, the vivid despair, the rush, the fight, the discovery. The rage. Everything. It was so present, all of it, that he felt like he was THERE, on the eight day of January, nineteen ninety-five...

A presence was felt, a presence that was stronger and chaotic, but that he recognized. His eyes shot open, his mind gearing towards battle. His whole body tensed as he stared forward and saw someone emerge from the building, stepping just outside the huge front doors. He knew who it was, and his eyes narrowed.

Thomas Storm was there, his posture affable and confident, but underneath it hiding a stress that at least equaled his. He hadn't changed much, except to grow a little broader. His hair was black and were much wilder than he remembered, with locks sprouting in every direction, some partially hiding the burning, satisfied brown eyes which looked back at him. He was dressed in simple clothes - shirt, pants, the usual look of a normal young citizen, except for the fact that he too, wore fighting gloves. He had a wide grin on his lips.

"So, Jer." he said cheerfully "Come to settle things here."

Jeremy clenched his fists. "Yes. I have come for that. Its time for you to pay your dues. To Melissa, to those little kids, to everyone you hurt for absolutely no sane or good reason, you crazy monster!"

Tom spread his hands, his smile unwavering. "Ah, such a romantic. Such foolishness." his smile faded "Such blindness. I too wish to settle things. Come on in, cousin. Lets make it one for all of our combined hatred!" and with that, he ran inside the warehouse.

Cursing, Jeremy followed. Twenty meters to the door, a bare two seconds for him. He poked his head inside, no certain that this wasn't a trap. And then he felt glad for this personal paranoia, for the moment he did, he heard machinegun fire. He flung himself to the side, taking out his pistol and grimacing in disgust as he heard laughter from inside.

Then he relaxed and a gave a grim smile. So, the bastard wanted to play cheap ass, heh? Well, so could he! And he'd swiped some very useful gizmos from Mark with the purpose of fooling such cheap shots. He felt inside his pocket, found the objects he wanted. He looked back toward the entrance.

"All right, Tom." he hissed. "You gave the tone. I'll dance to it."

* * * * * * * * * *

Around the same time...

Cammy was fuming. She'd been fuming for the last few hours or so, and the level of her hurt and fury had barely been mollified by time. She had the firm intention of finding that damn CHEAP, MACHO, SELFISH Jeremy and break him into little itsy-bitsy pieces. Go without her! For her own good! AH! WHAT A DAMN MORON! When she'd get her hands on him she'd tell him a few things or two, if he was still bloody ALIVE when she'd finished trashing him. Although she knew that it came from frustration and worry, venting herself this way felt good, even if it was a tad unrealistic.

She'd been a fool, too, to believe he'd simply given up and accepted the fact that she'd go with him. It had been completely uncharacteristic of him - he could be as stubborn as she when he believed he should do something, one of the reasons they'd bickered so much since moving in together - but she'd felt so triumphant, so glad, that she hadn't thought that he might do something behind her back. Foolish girl! She should be the last one to underestimate him like this, but she had. And then she'd found that note of apology and understood that she'd been had.

It had angered her. Enraged her. But mostly it had hurt. He'd just up and gone, and left her behind. She had never believe he would - leave without a good-bye - but he had and it made her ask herself some troubling questions. Why did it hurt so badly? Does it change something in what she felt about him? She had found that these two important questions were related in one single answer. I hurt badly BECAUSE nothing had changed. She still loved him, as she knew he loved her, and she had heard that it hurt one lover when the other did things that went against the most ardent wishes of the other. It had been her case, and it had been hard for her to handle.

Consequently, she had taken her anger as a shield, and now, even thought she knew she'd never be able to really hurt him, it felt good to have mental images of herself choking him. It helped her stay focused.

She didn't know the town well. This was Jeremy's home, not hers - and that had been an orphanage, of all things. She only came once to it, and only for a few days. And in those days, she hadn't been herself that much, so her memories of the layout were vague. But she remembered two addresses with clarity - they'd visited those often back in their visit. One was Mattew Storm's place, but it was out of the question. Jer would never stop by that place, not after what had happened the last time around.

The other address was the Levenson household - nice, red-bricked, two-storied house with a rather large lawn and many flowers in clumps, artfully placed. She was approaching that place right now, and found it much as she'd remembered, except that the flowers had been rearranged and that there was a young tree in the middle of the lawn. She knew that it was a long-shot, but the young woman, Claudia, had seemed like one of Jeremy's most trusted confidantes, and he might have told her some things. She walked up the tiled alley and knocked.

A few moments later the door opened, and a middle-aged woman, who looked like a more tired, plumper version of Claudia answered. "Yes, what may I do for you...officer?" she asked uncertainly.

Crap, that was true. She's kept her SCD uniform, which most give her a definite militaristic air. She tried to act casual but the times were far too urgent for that.

"Madam Levenson." she said quickly "Could you please tell your daughter that Cammy White is here. Its about Jeremy and its urgent."

The older woman looked at her a second more, then nodded and was off. She heard her steps fade away, her voice call faintly. Then a few seconds of silence. And then other foots steps, made by a woman and what could only be a very tall, bulky man came to her ears, fast, with a worried gait in them. A second later Claudia herself flung the door open, and behind her, and not surprisingly, there loomed the hulking figure of Alex Strongarm. Both looked extremely agitated.

Claudia was the first to speak. "Cammy, it is really you! What's going on, what's with the urgency?"

"Has something happened to Jer?" Alex added worriedly.

She looked at them both, her heart sinking. He hadn't come here. He'd told them nothing. In fact, Alex's presence was a testament to that, for the huge man would surely had gone with him, and they wouldn't look surprised to see her anyway. She bowed her head.

"So, he hasn't come here." she said bleakly. How was she to know where he'd gone, then? She couldn't search the whole TOWN! Her despair must have been apparent, for Claudia took her by the shoulders.

"I can see something's happened." she stated, pulling her inside. "So why don't you tell us what's going on, and maybe we could help?" Behind her, Alex nodded in fierce agreement. Cammy sighed and nodded. It was a faint hope, but at least these two, who's been there at the beginning, might have some ideas. So she started to tell them the story.

She told them of what had happened to young Laureen - the abuses she'd suffered, the fact that she was now pregnant with Thomas's child - and then about Henry Morton and his partner, who had been trapped and blown up by one of the madman's plots. And, with difficulty then, she recounted what had happened in the kindergarten, the horrible massacre that had occurred, Jeremy's helpless anger, the message, and then his departure. By the time she'd finished, both Alex and Claudia were white as sheets, and the big man was walking back and forth, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"Hell, I can understand why ol' Jer would want to take the guy out personally." he admitted, his voice edgy "If I'd known what he'd do, I can tell you both I would've let him finish the damn bastard off. Damn it! What a pain this all is. After all these years, this comes back to haunt us."

"What was the message that Tom left him?" asked Claudia.

"Well, he said that he'd meet Jeremy 'where it all began', that's what I heard, anyway." she mused. She stopped when he saw the couple looking at each other in consternation and recognition. "What is it? You have an idea what that means?"

Alex nodded grimly, his eyes far away. "More than just an idea. I'm certain what that means. I just KNOW it. The old warehouse." Claudia nodded, her face drawn. Finally the braided woman couldn't stand the damn suspense anymore. She banged her hands together, getting their attention.

"Okay! Fine! An old warehouse it is, then! Now where the bloody Hell is it?" she asked, impatient, eager to get on with things. Every moment lost could be disastrous. Now that there was goal in sight, she had no intention of letting it go.

Claudia mused. "Up the George Boulevard, I think. Yes, that's it, in the north of town. It should...hey, Cammy, what are you doing?"

Cammy was already going for the door, with the firm idea of taking the rented car she had out for a spin up George Boulevard. She was more worried about Jeremy as time passed, and she just couldn't wait it out any longer. Consequently, she was more than a bit annoyed when a large - no, rather immense - muscular body put itself in front of her, temporarily cutting her off. She looked up at Alex's serious face.

"Do you think you'll go at it alone?" he said "This is my business too, now. I was there, and I share a good deal of responsibility. Now just give me a few minutes and I'll join you, we'll find Jer and take the damn guy together, okay?

She shook her head. "I won't wait. You want to go, you're welcome to do it, but I can't wait! Follow me as soon as you can, we might need you. But now that I know where Jeremy is, I'm going there. Now, step aside!"

Alex seemed about to argue, but finally moved out of the way, mumbling that she was as crazy as Jer. She probably was at that. But right now she didn't care. All she wanted was to see that madness through, and find the man she loved...and give him a darn trashing for leaving like this, ah!

"Thank you." she told them both, and sped out the door, down the alley, toward her car. Now she knew where the action was.

She had every intention of being part of that show.

* * * * * * * * * *

Around the same time...

This reunion was really better than Thomas had thought it would be. His cousin had come exactly when he had wanted him to, had done exactly what he wanted him too and now was pinned down on the other side of the wall, like he wanted him. The idea of bringing him some firepower to equal the odds had not been superfluous, as he'd feared. His cousin was far stronger than he'd thought even back there in Venice, and a direct hand-to hand conflict, hand-to-hand, could end only in disaster.

His cousin poked his sorry face inside, squeezing in two shots which ricocheted of some steel containers. He laughed as he fired back, his cousin ducking and running back to cover like the boneless dog that he was. It had been the third time yet that he'd tried such a stupid sortie, didn't he get some kind of clue? What a fool!

"You'll never get passed this spot that way, cousin!" he called with a chuckle "I've got the bigger gun and I've got more ammo. So its both strength and power on my side. So give it up!" He knew his cousin wouldn't give in so easily, but it felt good to underline the fact that he had the upper hand. After a while his cousin answered, his voice light, yet containing an edge that showed his hatred for him.

"You think I'm going to give up so easily?" he retorted "Oh, Tom, you've never known me very well, did you?"

"Touché! Its true, Jer, I don't know you much, but I've heard of you. You don't give up on a situation, especially when you have good reasons to win!" he paused " And maybe you do right now, maybe not. Who's to say?

"The dead can. Your dead." deadly, cold voice, all mirth away. So it was down to settling things, eh? Fine by him, he could swing it. There were many things he wanted to talk about with the man.

"So, how've you been these past years?" he asked.

"Better than you. How was the Asylum?"

He gritted his teeth. The asylum. The place of fools and crazies this damn Betrayer had sent him to. A hellish place, which was far worse than the worst of streets, because no true amount was allowed for people like him. It angered him to think of it, but he had asked for this discussion. Besides, more interesting things might happen this way.

"The Asylum...was Hell for me, you bastard." he hissed quite frankly "You would have done good never sending me there!"

A deep silence on the other side, followed by a humorless, dangerous chuckle. "You're quite right. I shouldn't have. I should have sent you TO hell to BEGIN WITH!!"

He tsked. Such hatred. Ah, how refreshing to see an opponent who did squawk in fear, who held his wits together. He liked it, liked it a lot. Why, the last who had managed to get close to this composure - no matter how hateful it was - had been Laureen. Which reminded him of something.

"Ah, yes. Just to know, is dear Laureen pregnant?"

"Now do you honestly think that even if I knew about it that I would tell YOU? That I would do that, after what you DID to her?" the voice was angrier now, losing a bit of focus. Good. "At any rate, its none of your concern!"

"Ah, but I think that it IS! After all, it takes two to conceive a child. And I happen to be male of the pair, and consequently the FATHER of this child!" he stated reasonably.

"You'd be the DONATOR. You're not the father by any means. You raped her, took her against her will, brutalized her, sequestered her. You're no father. Nothing that she carries, nothing that is hers, including the supposed child, is yours. Don't talk to me about fatherhood. Fatherhood involves love, compassion, understanding. Since when have you ever shown that, you fucking WORM?!?"

That last spout hurt. It touched him at a sensitive spot. He, INSENSIBLE? It was this damn world which was insensible. He was one of the few who saw it, who understood it! How dare he judge him!

"Don't be too quick to judge my actions. I've been compassionate. Look at these children I saved, in that lousy kindergarten!" He was being reasonable about this, but the darn guy was too foolish to understand his gesture, for his words seemed to irk him even more. But then again, he WAS a blind man.

"Saved?" he his, his voice reaching a crescendo of anger and hatred "You didn't SAVE them! You MURDERED them! Did they ask you to come? Did they ask you to die? No, I bet that if they ask you anything, it was to LIVE! And their parents? Did you ever think of how broken they'd be? Did you ever even THINK to look at them, look at them as their babies lay cold and unmoving?!? WELL I DID! I DID, AND IF ONLY FOR THAT, I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR HEAD OFF YOU LOUSY, STINKING, INHUMAN BASTARD!!!"

Thomas sighed, and tried to explain his point of view to the fool. "Their parents would have failed them, would have corrupted them, I only allowed them to maintain a state of purity and..." a laugh interrupted him, a long, foolish, mocking laugh that echoed up to him. It irked him to be interrupted such. "What's the joke, cousin?" he asked stiffly

"YOU'RE the joke! Because you actually BELIEVE what you're saying, believe that these parents worked to corrupt their children. Well, if that's being corrupted, bastard, than I say Long Live Corruption! They'd have been happy. I'm no mind reader but I could tell how most of these people were: young, nervous, uncertain. But, darn you, full of affection! These children would never have been sad or hungry or alone, not as long as these people were there. But you can't believe something as simple as that. You're pathetic."

"Shut up."

A chuckle. "To think that the people of London fear you so much. It proof that they don't know you at all. But I do Tom, I do!"

"Shut up!"

"They have an high opinion of you, you're a serious, calculating killer to them. You're not. Beyond the violence, you're just a damn bug: puny, useless, stupid!"

"SHUT UP! SHUDDAP SHUDDAP SHUDDAP!" he bellowed, unable to contain himself with these insulting jabs. "HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT MY VISION IS WRONG, YOU DAMN FOOL!!!"

"Its easy, man. Cuz it is." another laugh. He lost it, bellowed in rage, starting to fire in the direction the man hid, his riffle firing like crazy. It had no effect. The coward wouldn't show himself!

"Get out of there, you foolish dog!" he shouted "Lets end this once and for all!"

"I'll second the motion." said a voice right behind him. Jer's voice.

He turned around in shock, but before he could do anything his riffle was grabbed roughly and he received a kick in the stomach. The kick was extremely powerful, and he wasn't ready for such an attack. Such as it was he was flung backward, making his cushion out of a few poor, unsuspecting wooden boxes. He didn't get up right then and there, but rather looked at his cousin in both fascination and stunned horror.

"How can you...I thought..." he stammered.

"You don't think, Tom." Jeremy hissed. "You've got no grasp of tactics. Your methods are to lure and trap, nothing more. No finesse. Which means you tend to be caught flat-footed by any type of hoax." he tapped a device on the side of his face. " Like this device, of which I left another piece outside, so that you believe I was still up fron while I went around the building." his voice became deadly "Now get the Hell up and face me, Thomas. We finish this right here and now."

Tom got up slowly, taking a slow fighting stance, a smirk appearing on his face. "So, this time you're the one who's gonna play the so-called brute. It must be a blow to your up-and-up set of morals, no?"

"That changes nothing, Tom." retorted the other man, taking a stance that was more refined and focused. "Today, I swear it, you're going to be killed by me, and we'll finally end this merry-go-round we've been playing!!!" he clenched his fists. "Bring it on!!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Around that time...

Cammy arrived near the warehouse - an ugly thing of old, rusty iron and rotting timber, to hear riffle shots being fired. She had frozen, taking out her gun, and putting herself at the ready, until she found herself near the entrance. She spotted something on the floor and recognized it - a speaker, to make the enemy believe one was in one direction while working to get at him from another. A common tactic, with a high degree of success. It must have been Jeremy who had tried it. But had it succeeded. She risked a look inside, and saw two people slugging it out with abandon. Not distinguishing things as well ads she could have, she scuttled nearer, using all the stealth that she had both learned and been 'programmed' with. They didn't see her coming at all, and she finally was able to see things clearer.

It was Jeremy and Thomas, fighting. She had surmised as much, but it still relieved her heart to be able to see him. The two were circling each other, looking for holes in the defense of the other. From the stances, she already knew that it was Jeremy who was winning. His defense was unbroken, he had hadn't broken a sweat, and wasn't even breathing hard. The other's posture didn't denote nearly the same skill and power, was lacking in confidence in itself - a dangerous thing for any fight - and,form the slight heave she perceived, the man was already starting to strain.

Suddenly Thomas lashed out with his fist, directed at his opponent's face, It was skillfully done, but to people with SCD training it was old and easy to see, and Jeremy was one of the best fighters in the whole SCD and MI6. He blocked it, but it was a faint, to direct attention on one punch so that the other could take a devastating shot at the ribs. However, he'd seen it as well, shifted,let the arm pass next to him, blocked it there. The taller cousin was now in quite a bit of a squeeze, his defense opened by default. Jeremy did not waste second. His knee made the man collapse in two, followed by a palm strike in the face and a back kick that sent him crashing against boxes. The man fumbled a bit, getting up with a slowness that seemed almost insulting to Cammy. As for her partner, he only stood there, waiting, an hateful sneer on his face.

"Come on, Tom!" he called, his voice harsh and cold. "Can't you do any better than that? What a waste of space you are!"

His only answer was a growl, and the man started toward him again, spinning to deliver a kick. Gracefully, Jeremy skidded to the side, giving the man three shots to his unprotected flank before he could recover. The man did, lashing out with high kick - mid kick - low kick combo that would have brought many professional fighters flat on their backs. But the man in front of him had gone up against expert killers, Tournaments, Circle Operatives and even a whole Shadowlaw base. He saw the combo and blocked it as it came, first the high, then the mid, and caught the low kick, grasping the booted foot and jerking it upward with all of his strength. This brought the man crashing backward, his breath cut off. Jeremy chuckled at the side, still absolutely not tired.

"Seems like you don't want to fight me anymore, Tom." he hissed "You're running low on power, aren't you!"

"Damn you!" said Thomas, coming to his feet charging again.

Again they clashed, and Cammy clearly saw that Jeremy was only using a fraction of his strength, purposefully holding back his full power. Thomas was a good fighter, better than the average, but he wouldn't have lasted thirty seconds against one of the Shadowlaw dolls Juli and Juni, and Jeremy could probably stand up to them BOTH, like she herself had. Yes, he was lengthening the fight, and, for the first time, he saw something that, while not really surprising in this situation, shocked her.

Jeremy was actually enjoying seeing another, inferior, fighter suffer.

Still, the fight was turning in his advantage, and she saw that with each punch came a little more strength, each kick came a bit quicker. He was starting to stop holding it back, starting to let loose with his strength at the one she knew he wanted to kill. And Thomas must have been feeling that, for his efforts became more forceful, more frantic. He was scared. The bastard was scared. And with good reason.

Then Thomas came crashing into another box, and this time seemed to be even more dazed than before, his movements more sluggish. Jeremy waited, impatient, tense, angry, ready to go in for the kill. The next pass would be the last pass, it seemed. This fight would end easily for Jeremy. She had been wrong to worry, it seemed - which didn't mean she wasn't going to whump him some!

"All right, Tom." he growled " Time to end this all!"

Then, surprisingly, with more speed than he should have been able to achieve, Thomas sat up a pointed a gun directly into Jeremy's face, which stood barely five meters from it. It was a point-blank shot, with the chances to miss nearly nil.

OHGODNOHESGOTTAGUNJERLOOKOUT...

Tom fired.

Jeremy jerked at this. And he started to fall.

"Indeed." said Tom, as the body fell.

Cammy's heart froze as she saw this. This wasn't possible. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be! He had won, he was fine! But no, the body did not move, it lay there as that - that bastard stood up with a grin. She felt a void form within her, and her vision clouded.

"N...no." she whispered brokenly.

"I win, Jer!" said Tom triumphantly.

And it was at that moment that she blacked out.

* * * * * * * * * *

The following moment...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

'Jesus, did somebody just die?'

That was the first thought that popped into Jeremy's mind as he recovered from a temporary blackout. He felt groggy, and something hurt at the side of his head. He touched it and winced, and his fingers came up tinged with red. It wasn't a dangerous cut, but it was a sore one. But what had happened, The vents were jumbled up for a moment, and then he remembered. He'd been shot. Or rather nearly so.

It had been his fault, anyway! He'd been so angry, so pleased to finally be able to give the bastard something back, that he'd held out his true strength, had damn well played with the guy, like a cat played with a mouse. And he'd adored it for a few moments. It shamed him, for this wasn't in his nature, but that was how he'd felt. Unfortunately for him, the mouse had had some more serious teeth than he had first thought, and he'd barely seen the shot in time. He'd twisted his head to the right, and, it seemed, had changed a death wound into a very minor wound. In short, he'd been lucky.

What was that ruckus? He opened his eyes. And they widened. 'Cammy!' he thought, stunned 'What is she doing here?'

Whatever the answer was, she was tearing into Thomas with abandon, which explained why he was still alive. She wasn't pulling her punches, hitting him with frightening strength and aggressivity, her kicks and punches devastatingly precise. Thomas was trying his very best to hold out against it, but he was already bleeding, his face battered, huffing to regain his breath. This was the state he would have brought him in, if the guy hadn't fired. But she was doing a pretty good job of it all! Finally she summoned chi - he could feel it ebbing from her, and launched one of her attacks.

"CANNON DRILL!!!"

Jeremy cringed as the man was pushed toward the far back,through the hole that he'd done because of one of his Flare Talons. There was a crash on the other side, and then nothing. Cammy tensed herself, and it was clear that she was about to follow to tear the guy apart some more. He stood up with a groan.

"I think he's out cold with that Cannon Drill." he mumbled, more to himself, but that caused her to take a look in his direction. He was appalled by the look of hatred and grief etched upon her face. But then it changed, became surprised and confused, as if she was seeing something she shouldn't be seeing. He suddenly understood. She'd seen him get shot. She thought he'd been killed. Darn it all, he should have finished it off quickly instead of...damn it all!

She took a tentative step towards him, her eyes full of hope, disbelieving. "Jer? Is...is that really you?"

He gave an irritated but fond shrug. "Well unless I got a twin I didn't tell you about, I'd say I'm really me, and that I'll probably end up being me for a while-whoa, hey! Hey...Cammy? Love?" he said as he was suddenly wordlessly hugged, and he clutched at as if he was about to go up in smoke.

"I thought you were dead!" she screeched, and clutched him tighter. Feeling sorry she'd had to see that, cursing the lack of action on his part that had caused it, he started to hug her back, but stopped as a voice rang out.

"Oh, how very romantic." slurred a voice in a sneering tone. They whirled to find Thomas standing - albeit unsteadily - holding a riffle, the very riffle that he'd taken from the madman and flung through the hole before the fight - pointed at them. "Now hands up. Game's over and I win."

Jeremy took something from his belt as Cammy hid him from the guy for a moment then, held up his hands. Cammy did the same with a defiant glare. Thomas smirked at them, his face horribly battered.

"Its a feisty bitch you got, Jer." he said "I can see why you hang out with her. She's the exact violent type you need."

The smaller Storm smirked in his turn, and moved in front of Cammy, his hands always up. This seemed to amuse Thomas, who laughed despite his pain.

"You think you can save her? Think again! These bullets will go right through you. I'll kill you both!"

Jeremy's smirk became a nasty smile. "Nope. Sorry buddy. You can't want to know why?" he asked "Two reasons. First, cuz I emptied the riffle before fighting you. And two, its because of this." and with that he showed what he had in his hand: a black cylinder with a red button on top. Thomas looked at it, then back at him.

"Thats..."

"Right. Its Hell for you, hope you like it down in the Abyss." and he pressed the switch. As he did so, he turned around and tackled Cammy to the ground. The explosive he'd set up exploded, cutting the monster that Thomas Storm had become to shred before he could even scream, sending small burning shards on them. Jeremy looked at the stunned Cammy under him and smiled.

"Blow any idiots who don't pay attention to places an enemy has already tempered with. Castillo rule number four!" he said brightly.

* * * * * * * * * *

That night...

"Will you stop that?!? I've already apologized FOUR times!" said Jeremy irritably.

Cammy didn't answer, just lay there on her side of the hotel bed, looking away from him. She'd chewed him out a while after they'd gotten out of the warehouse, to a point that she was half-convinced she'd deafened his ears permanently. He'd apologized profusely for the situation that had been generated, but as time passed he became a bit grumpy himself, finally falling silent what remained of the way. Since then, she'd barely talked to him, still feeling something that prevented anything but a snarl or an irritated huff on her part. She didn't feel so bad about it, even though it meant a lonely night. She'd even considered ordering him to sleep on the couch - why not, it had happened once, when they'd been on edge after a mission - but something had held her back.

Next to her, Jeremy mumbled something under his breath, and then she felt an added weight on the other side of the bed. Then there was a frustrated sigh, a mumbled 'g'night' and finally the click of the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. For long moments, neither stirred, and she was starting to think he had drifted off to sleep - this had after all been a very active day for him.

And finally she spoke, speaking the words that had been within her ever since the shot of Thomas's gun. She wasn't surprised by them one bit, for they had occupied all her thoughts up until now.

"I saw you die." she said softly. Faint rustle of the sheets, a shifting of weight. He was looking at her now, awaiting the rest. "I saw the gone, the shot. I saw you jerk from the impact. And I-I s-s-saw your body f-fall." she closed her eyes. "Do you know how that felt? To think that you were dead? To think that I'd lost you just like that? Our love - there's still something missing, something we haven't done, and I want you with me, all the while, up until we find it, and after that for as long as we breathe." she was babbling now, she felt it, and shut her mouth tightly. And then she felt hands touch her gently, tentatively, and she closed her eyes, even though it was dark. She knew now why she didn't tell him to go sleep on the couch - because if things had been a little different, she wouldn't have been feeling those hands, touching her lovingly, in a way that she had never allowed any other man to. She shivered.

"I'm really sorry." he said softly. "I just wanted to settle my own hatred my own way. I never, ever meant to hurt you like that, my actions didn't mean it."

"If I hadn't been there, you would have died." she stated, fighting the pain she felt just by evoking this evidence.

"But I'm not, thanks to you." he answered back, his hand gently brushing her shoulder and arm, softly caressing. She couldn't take this anymore. She opened her own lamps and turned to face him, her eyes shadowed.

He looked right back at her, bemused and sad, the only sign of the terrible battle he'd almost lost his life in a H-Twenty-Eight Patch he'd carried amongst his things. His face was drawn a bit, tense and more than a little guilty. And it was that guilt she hung into to continue this last tirade, while she still wanted to.

"I thought you trusted me." she whispered "We're partners, no? No, not just partners, we're lovers. Aren't lovers supposed to trust and respect each other?"

"Of course!"

"Then why did you leave without a word?" she cried, her anger returning "Why did you sneak out like a thief?"

He sighed, placed his hand near her cheek, tenderly traced the trail that her scar made. She hated that scar - it was a constant reminder of the time she spent in Shadowlaw as an unwilling operator and assassin - but she always felt a slight tingle when he touched it. It wasn't anything sexual, but it was definitely physical, although she couldn't truly explain how that was. She just liked it.

At last he spoke. "I have NO true excuse. I wanted to get back at him for years of hate I had festering inside, for unbearable crimes in which I felt responsibility. I knew a madman like him might find a way to do me in, and I wanted no one to be dragged along." he stopped. She opened her mouth to say something about that, but he put two fingers on her lips "It was stupid. I was blind, angry and I was WRONG." a slight smile "And for the sixth time around, I apologize."

"You..." she stopped "I just can't stay mad at you. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I swear there'll be Hell to pay!"

He shook his head, hugged her tightly. "I won't." he resolved "Tom's dead now. My Vendetta is spent. Now there's only you. No more hatred. Just you."

She hugged him back with a slight chuckle. "How do you come up with those kind of lines? You don't look like a poet, love."

"And I certainly ain't one! But I was very good in everything that involved romance in High School. Guess it stayed, gave me ideas." he suddenly gave a smile "It inspires me to do certain - other - things, too."

"Like what? You - wohoheheheh." she gave a sly smile as he started to show her what he meant. "Americans. Always looking forward to a little fun. Fine, come here, I'll show you something fun..."

The conversation ended at that. All that remained was the bliss of the night, and two people who had gone through a nightmare - and survived.