Dark Waters Rising

Murderer

A flower made of ice bloomed rapidly in Wesley's chest. His panic was trying to suffocate him, but he somehow managed to swallow it down and jump into the fray.

"Castor, stop," Wesley said carefully, hands raised non-threateningly as he positioned himself in front of Valentine and stared down the barrel of Castor's pistol. "Think about what you're doing."

"I have thought about it," Castor said darkly, glaring at the man behind Wesley and refusing to move his gun despite the fact that it now pointed at his friend. "I've thought about it every single day since that pirate attacked our ship."

"Please Castor. Put the gun down," Wesley took a cautious step closer but stopped when Castor visibly tightened his grip.

"Why are you protecting him?" Castor's voice rose in frustration and betrayal. "He killed our friends! Finley, Abner, Bennett-"

"I know what he's done," Wesley cut him off, not wanting to remember the gruesome day of the raid.

"He's a murderer!" Castor growled.

"I know he is," Wesley said, looking Castor directly in the eye, "but you're not."

Castor's hands shook. For a moment, something close to shame crossed his features. But then they hardened into something unreadable.

"That's where you're wrong, Captain," he said in an eerily calm voice. "He made me one. Just as he made you one."

"Castor..."

"There's already a black stain on my soul. What's the harm in making it a little bigger."

"Castor-"

"He's right," Valentine said, catching both men off guard. "Step aside Wesley. I deserve to face justice for what I've done."

"What?" Wesley asked, fearing Valentine had turned suicidal.

"Please," he said, placing a gentle hand on his mate's shoulder. "Just go into the other room and cover your ears. I don't want you to hear this."

Wesley risked a glance back at the man, and it was in that moment, staring into lavender eyes, that Wesley remembered something crucial.

Valentine wasn't a man.

With eyes widening in understanding, Wesley clamped his hands over his ears and walked briskly out of the room. He went to the furthest corner of his small townhouse and crouched down facing it. He closed his eyes and started humming softly to himself. Part of him was terrified Castor would actually kill Valentine, but not having heard a gunshot yet through the barrier of his hands was comfort enough to know he was still alive.

It seemed like an eternity later when he finally felt a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, Wesley's head snapped up to Valentine. He removed his hands cautiously from his ears and slowly stood to his feet.

"Are you all right?" It was Valentine that asked.

Wesley nodded after a few moments of self assessment.

"I don't think your friend likes me very much," Valentine said with a small ironic smile.

Wesley looked past Valentine to see Castor standing in the middle of the room looking like a lost puppy. His eyes were glazed over and the hatred was gone from his face. Wesley relaxed a little bit, knowing the threat was averted for now.

"Can you blame him?" Wesley asked, making the edges of Valentine's lips fall.

"No," he sighed, looking at the man.

Glancing back at Wesley briefly, Valentine walked closer to the other merchant.

"Castor, can you sit down for me, please?" he asked, pointing toward one of the chairs.

"Yes," Castor said quickly, eager to please. He scrambled into the chair as Valentine pulled another one closer and sat in it himself. The siren then took one of Castor's hands in both of his and looked into the merchant's starry brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I know that's not nearly enough, but I am."

Wesley watched the display with curiosity, knowing from experience that Castor's mind was fully aware of what was happening despite being unable to control his body or certain thought processes.

"I understand your anger. Your friends didn't deserve to die. None of the people I hurt did. But I can't take it back, no matter how much I wish I could." Valentine looked down at their hands.

"I know there is no excuse for what I did, but you should know that I was in a dark place when I was a pirate. Everything I cared about had been ripped away from me quite suddenly and I blamed it on the wrong people. I took it out on the innocent instead of the guilty. I can't take back what I did, but I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. I want to be a better man than the one I have become."

There was a moment of silence, but it didn't take long for Castor to break it.

"I forgive you."

Valentine sighed, closing his eyes. "I know you don't. My song makes it so you are inclined to do and say what would please me. I know it must be frustrating for you to be trapped inside yourself without a say in what's going on, but I hope you understand why I had to do it."

Castor nodded.

"To ease your mind a little, I'll tell you that the effects of the enchantment will last for less than a day. Until then, I think it's best that you return home, fix yourself a nice dinner, and try to sleep through what remains of it. You'll be back to your normal self by morning."

"Will that please you?" Castor asked.

"Very much so," Valentine said, letting go of Castor's hand as the man stood.

"I'll go now then," Castor said, hurrying toward the door.

"Don't forget your pistol," Valentine called, causing Castor to double back toward the bedroom, grab his gun, and head back toward the front door. It bounced shut behind him as he entered onto the street.

"Thank you," Wesley whispered once it was evident that Castor was long gone.

"For what?" Valentine asked, standing up himself.

"For saying all that. He really needed to hear it." Wesley breathed.

Valentine nodded.

"I think I did too."

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A/N

What is one question you'd like to ask me?

. . . within reason.

I'm going to a Larkin Poe concert tonight! They are two sisters that are descendants of Edgar Allan Poe and they rock! You guys should check them out!

Happy Saturday,
-Mora Montgomery