DISCLAIMER: Look, I'm really not in the mood for this. Most of the characters in this are joint property of Kathleen M. Wilson and myself. Two characters were created by her and one was created by me. And one character went wee, wee, wee, all the way home. The End of An Era By Elizabeth M. Lawrence (luckyliz@mindspring.com) Comments always welcome. (This is a hint, people ) Other stories in the Elaine Saga can be found at http://www.mindspring.com/~luckyliz/. They were there, gathering around the hospital bed. Not everyone was present. Judy, for example was still in Seacouver taking care of Teresa. But all the immediate family were there. They had come for the same reason -- Dad/Grandpa was dying. "Dammit, I'm getting tired of this," one of the younger attendees suddenly snapped. "Why doesn't he die already?" The man's mother shushed him. "Roger...." "You know what I mean," he clarified. "What's he waiting for?" "You know very well what he's waiting for," the man sitting next to the head of the bed patiently answered. "He's waiting for _her_." "You mean that old witchy woman that we're supposedly protecting?" Roger scoffed. "You don't really believe that old fairy tale, do you?" "Yah mus' beh Dannay's boy," a voice behind him said. "She an' Ah nevah did see eye tah eye." Startled, Roger turned. Standing in the doorway was a small figure, cloaked in black. The only thing visible were her eyes, which were glowing yellow. "I --", Roger squeaked. The woman raised her hand, cutting him off. "Outside. All of yah." The family stood and filed past her, with Roger in the lead. Being the eldest, George came last. As he passed the woman, she held up a hand, which he briefly grabbed, then released to join the rest of the family. As soon as the door was closed, the woman lowered the hood of her cloak. Blonde hair flowed forth. She then went to the foot of the bed and looked at the occupant. She examined his face and the rest of his body beneath the sheet, listening to his heartbeat and breathing and came to one inescapable conclusion. The man in the bed was ... _old_. When had that happened? Had she been too busy having fun to notice her little boy was growing up? It didn't seem possible. And yet, the evidence was there, right before her eyes. She could end it. Keep his death from being dragged out and put an end to any suffering he was feeling. Or she could keep him with her, at her side for all eternity. Make him like her. It was within her power to do so. No one would fault her for either choice. But it wasn't her decision to make. Going to the head of the bed, the woman pulled a syringe out of her pocket. She stuck the needle in her arm, filling it with her blood. Then she inserted it into the old man's arm, emptying its contents into him. She brushed her fingers along the man's face, waiting for him to wake up. After a few minutes, his eyes flickered open. "Mama 'Laine?" he asked. "What happened?" "Yah in the hospi'al," she told him. "Yah've had a stroke an' fah the las' three days, yah've been in a coma. Accahdin' tah the doctahs, even if yah manage tah come out of it on yah own, yah'll beh seveahlay brain damaged." "But...," the man said, not understanding. "I feel fine." "that's becaseu Ah jus' injec'ed yah with some of mah blood. It wahks as a cuah-all, but onlay fah a shaht time an' the side effects ah somethin' awful," Mama 'Laine explained. She paused and continued. "Lou, yah dyin'." Lou let the words sink in, not wanting to believe her. But he had to. He knew Mama 'Laine would never lie to him. "I suppose the family's here?" "They'ah right outside. Mos' of them came as soon as they hahd. Ah jus' thought weh should talk in private, sah Ah sen' them out of the room," she assured him. "Lou, do yah remembah the day yah tol' meh yah wah in love with meh? Ah made yah an offah. That offah's still open." "Make me a vampire?" Lou remembered. "But...." "Yah wouldn' beh the oldes', if that's what yah worrahed abou'. Constantine's in his nine'ay's," the blonde told him. "An' all yah aches an' pains would go away. Yah'd beh as fit as a man in his seven'ays cn beh." "And the downside?" he asked, knowing full well there was one. "Ah'm not entiahlay shoah Ah cn do it," she answered. "The onlay time Ah've brough' anay one across, Lucien pulled meh off of Simon at the right momen'." "And?" There was still more. "Theah's a good chance yah'll nevah beh reunited with Ednah should Ah succeed," Elaine stated. Lou thought it over, making his decision. "Do it." Nodding, Mama 'Laine bent over him for one final kiss.... The door opened and Elaine, eyes rimmed in red stepped out, into the corridor. "Well?" George asked. "Lou is ... with Ednah," she answered. "Y'all ought tah go in an' pay yah repects." As before, the family filed past her, this time into the room. Two figures remained after the others had all gone. While they both adored Lou, that was a moment for family only. Not just friends. Lou wasn't the one they were there for, anyway. "You okay?" Richie asked as they went up to her. Elaine nodded. "Ah could tell, from the fahs' drop of blood, that he wasn' gonnah come back tah meh. Didn' even try verrah hahd. He chose Ednah. Ovah meh." "That's because mortals belong together, Raltra," Aria said. "They can touch our lives briefly, but in the end, they go their way and we go ours." "Why? Why can' Ah keep them with me?" Elaine demanded. "Yah don' have an option, but Ah do. Ah cn brin' Joe an' Nat an' Maggay across an' make them mine. Ah cn --" Elaine stopped, remembering the flashes she'd seen of Lou's life. Red tears rolled down her cheeks as the Immortals held her. "Lou lef' meh," Elaine said, a few minutes later. "Ah'm alone again." "No, you're not," Richie assured her, running a hand down her hair. "Ari and I are here and we'll always be here as long as you want. "An' ya still have Lou, as long as you remember him," Aria added. "Now, let's go home and we'll open our best bottle of wine and our best bottle of blood an' ya can tell us ev'rythin' ya know about him. Alright?" "A'right," Elaine nodded, tears drying. The three walked out, arms wrapped around each other. THE END Dedicated to Floyd W. Bartram, December 5, 1905 to November 11, 1999.