Chapter XXXIV

You, Right in Front of Me

Spring of 1974

T he iron guards over the windows of the castle rose as the sun dipped below the horizon, and with the sound of turning gears, thirteen-month-old Jeremiah's eyes fluttered open. There were dry streaks left behind on his cheeks from the tears he'd shed, but it was as though the sorrows from before were forgiven as he worked himself up. His two-toned curls were messy as his tiny hands gripped the railing of the crib, and he stood with a renewed happiness glittering in his eyes.

Giving the rails a bit of a shake, Jeremiah mouthed the word he wanted to say until, "P–Papa," left his lips. "Papa, Papa," he cooed and called, and soon — just as any other evening — his eagerness burst forward from the knock of approaching steps until the brass of his bedroom door was turned and a familiar figure joined him.

There was no smile to greet him, but Jeremiah's face lit up regardless, and he reached for the man he called ‘Papa' with one hand as he held onto his teddy bear with the other.

Demiesius looked the small boy over, a chord of remorse striking his chest upon seeing the residue of the tears that had fallen from Jeremiah's eyes. Although the boy was smiling now and looked well-rested, Demiesius cursed himself and entered the bathroom in the hall.

"Papa," Jeremiah said, again and again, the only word he'd begun to say recently, and it was as though he liked the way it sounded.

Wetting a small cloth, Demiesius leaned against the sink's counter and wiped his son's face.

Jeremiah sat in the crook of his father's arm, turned from him, and pushed Demiesius' efforts away, but once he was cleaned and the evidence of his past woes were erased, he was taken into a spacious room littered with colorful toys.

Wobbly and not quite so coordinated on his feet yet, the boy stumbled before gaining his balance and happily hugged his bear. The stuffed animal was soft as he squeezed it against himself, and he lugged it across the room to a tall window that reached the floor and ceiling.

He liked to look at the outside and see how far the world stretched.

The manner the treetops swayed was interesting, and the distance the sky spanned was grand and beautiful, endless, and Jeremiah was captivated by the birds that twirled in the air before vanishing. They'd fly away and he would wonder where they'd gone off to. The sparrows and starlings would come and go until nightfall was fully across the land, and Jeremiah would hope they'd flutter by once more. However, when the world was dark, many things went away. The night seemed to take and take and give nothing back…at least for a while.

Standing before the wide window with a hand to the glass, Jeremiah cheerfully watched a flight of sparrows dance as one before dipping behind the trees of the woodlands, and just when a minor fret for their disappearance touched him, he flinched away when a nocturnal creature landed outside the window ledge.

Jeremiah yelped and fell to his bottom as the black pearly eyes of a barn owl gazed into him. The suddenness of its appearance frightened the small boy and he dropped his bear, hurrying to the man ready to lift him into safety.

"Do not fear," Demiesius' voice soothed. "Nothing is going to hurt you."

Not wanting his son to be afraid of something natural to their world given the species thrived under the moon, the elder carried Jeremiah to the window once more and knelt before it. The creature continued to stare and linger, and as it cleaned its wings and shook its feathers as Jeremiah looked it over, the abrupt panic that'd shaken the boy passed over him.

"Papa," Jeremiah said, resting his head against the elder's chest, and he hesitantly reached out to the window.

The barn owl looked toward the pair, the blankness in its eyes still a bit nerve-racking to Jeremiah; they were so round and seemed vast in their dark shade, empty almost, but so attentive and placed on him. White-faced and ghostly with dark brown and tawny feathers, the keen points of its claws left behind scrapes against the outside stone of the ledge.

Spying the curiosity in his son, Demiesius turned his own dark gaze to the owl, pushing a quiet command into the animal's mind, and he closed a mentally firm grip around it. Unlatching the window, Demiesius let the pane come open as a cool breeze followed, rustling his hair and Jeremiah's curls.

"Do not be afraid," Demiesius said, and when he reached out, the owl examined his fingers before perching itself atop them. "We must not be afraid of what is natural in this world." The elder went on, bringing the tamed creature a bit closer. "In the eyes of others, we may be viewed as abnormal and undeserving to exist alongside those who believe they are the only ones meant to walk this Earth. This here is an owl. Can you say ‘owl', Jeremiah?"

"Awhoo," Jeremiah appeared to try, but nothing more than a sound attempting to mimic the elder came forth.

"Close enough," Demiesius huffed. "Just as you and me, this owl is connected to the night a lot more closely than other birds. As they are solitary creatures, they are often found alone or in a pair once they've found another, and it is rather rare to see one given their reclusiveness. You should consider yourself lucky, my son, for they are quite marvelous. Just as you…"

Enchanted by the owl, Jeremiah softly touched the wall of feathers at its chest, happiness returning to him at how pleasant the encounter was.

"My son," Demiesius said woefully then, eyes fixed on Jeremiah as he watched the boy's happy profile. "Much has been taken from us, and I fear our years together may come with more difficulties than I would ever want you to face, but I ask now that you forgive me, forgive this man who is still just a man. Your brother is all I had some years ago, and then I met your dad and the night opened up much more. He gave me what I was missing: his love, his heart. He gave me you, Jeremiah, and though this hurt I feel when I look upon you is immeasurable, you are my pride, you are my joy, and I love you with all I am. I always will."

As Jeremiah laughed and the owl playfully nipped at his fingers, Demiesius neared the window once more and allowed the bird to fly away, and when the young dhampir's eyes watched it vanish into the dark woodlands, a comfort passed into him from the elder.

"I truly am sorry," Demiesius said, tenderly embracing his son as the cool of this Spring night flurried through the room, and he left a kiss against the bright half of Jeremiah's hair. "In the end, this is all I can give you: my effort. And with it, I will protect you from all I can, for as long as I can, my son."

***

Min-jae had yet to move an inch from Jeremiah's side. As he sat there on the floor beside the divan now, his head rested against the frame as his hand lay coupled with Jeremiah's, one grasping firm while the other lay slack in his fist. Throughout his time spent here with this eternal unwillingness to get up and do anything that meant leaving Jeremiah's side, Min-jae reminisced on the moments he'd been able to spend with Jeremiah. Being introduced to him that night in Choi Ha-yoon's apartment had been the chance meeting all those who were fated to be together experienced.

Nothing about the night they'd met was supposed to lead to what they'd become, but Min-jae was and would always be grateful for that time. They hadn't been the nicest to each other right away, and there'd been a bit of a barrier both carted along with them, but when it fell away and a need was discovered, they'd fallen so unabashedly for one another that their tumble into forever seemed impossible to stop.

Until now.

Back then, Min-jae had been such a confused young man with no insight on who or what he was. He'd been kept from understanding what kind of person he'd been born as, and although he still couldn't say he could call himself much of a vampire, a dhampir…that hadn't mattered. The life he'd meant to live going forward wasn't supposed to be noteworthy. He'd wanted such simple things, a quiet and fulfilling life, and what simplicity he'd offered had been what made Jeremiah so comfortable in their own personal corner of Korea.

The hanok, the village, the ocean, they were all comparable to gifts he'd been glad to see Jeremiah appreciated, but outside of their tranquility, it seemed the world would always show itself to be cruel.

I want to go back, Min-jae thought to himself, gliding his thumb against Jeremiah's knuckles.

In his memories, he could still feel what it was like to hold Jeremiah in his arms the very first time, when what the other dhampir had needed the most was an embrace to hold all of his pieces together. Jeremiah's warmth had been so soothing coupled with his, and Min-jae hated the emptiness that came with its detachment.

As he envisioned their time spent as one, Min-jae saw their first kiss. He'd been absolutely taken aback by Jeremiah, and each kiss they'd shared up until recently had always been the same; filled with the same desires and never had it faltered in the slightest.

Their first time making love…

Perhaps it was cliche to say they'd experienced a type of magic, a cloud of euphoria so filled with passion, so much desire, and it'd been the first of many times Min-jae had come to realize no other aside from Jeremiah could make him feel those things. Every day since, the stronger the foundation of their love had grown, and even now Min-jae thought it to be unbreakable.

A love like theirs — a love so true — could never cease to thrive.

Squeezing Jeremiah's hand when the dread of being alone entered him again, Min-jae had to let out a haggard breath to keep himself from crying yet again. He'd already shed so many tears, knew well enough that he could fill this room to the ceiling, but he at least wanted to start trying to pull himself together. It was still so soon that he'd lost so much; he had every right to feel as broken as he was right now, but he also had a responsibility upstairs, one he'd come to neglect in the recent hours.

I'm sorry, Tae-min, he thought. I've neglected you.

Min-jae hadn't said anything hours ago when Hamilton had come down to take Tae-min to feed and take care of him, but he appreciated it, and he made a mental note to thank Hamilton when they were in each other's company again.

More than sure he wouldn't be able to sleep if he tried, Min-jae closed his eyes and kissed Jeremiah's knuckles. The exhaustion was coming more from his lack of blood, but he didn't know if he could bring himself to tend to his own needs .

What am I going to do now?

A sharp metallic noise startled Min-jae then, and he looked toward its origin. Beside him lay a piece of steel-wrapped copper curled and bent out of shape, but it wasn't hard to tell it was a bullet fragment. Min-jae looked upon the piece of metal and plucked it from the floor. From what he could tell, it was coated with two separate blood types.

He stood before the divan then and pulled the blanket down a small way. The only wound Jeremiah's body had been returned here with was the single, tiny hole open at the center of his chest, but it was gone now.

As Min-jae looked over Jeremiah, he dragged a light touch of his fingers across where he remembered the hole had been. His eyes panned up Jeremiah's collar, and a confused rut in his brow formed once he realized the sensation at his fingertips. Jeremiah was…he was warm to the touch and all of that warmth passed into Min-jae's palm when he laid it flat atop the center of Jeremiah's chest.

By now, it'd been so long since Jeremiah was returned to this place to lay here. By now, he should have at least shed some of the warmth he'd once carried — if not all, actually, but this continued heat remained as though it would never fade.

Examining Jeremiah's body then, Min-jae removed the blanket entirely and his confusion skyrocketed. Due to the damage Jeremiah had taken in prior months, his body should wield signs of those wounds about his arms and abdomen, but the slightest and most grisly of them all were…gone. His skin was so clear, perfect, and unblemished that it was like he'd never been harmed in all his life.

Gently cupping Jeremiah's cheek, Min-jae leaned over him, eyes moving about his lover's face to pick up on anything at all that could be different, but there was nothing, nothing that spoke of a change in his being.

Suddenly then, Min-jae's heart nearly burst as he fell back onto his bottom, catching himself on his palms. An abrupt and solid rush of an aura so powerful shoved him at the same time Jeremiah sat up out of nowhere. He sucked in a long breath of air that filled his lungs when he lurched off of the divan, claws extended, top and bottom serpent-like fangs on display, and his irises took on a red glow.

Just as quickly as he'd stunned Min-jae, Jeremiah fell back onto the divan. He was breathing frantically, heart beating rapidly, and the quiet aura now seeping from him felt exactly as it had before it'd been taken from him.

When he looked toward the only other person in the room, much like his hair, Jeremiah's eyes were no longer black and blue. While the black of his left iris still clung to its darkness, the blue now lacked color and appeared ghostly white.

Meeting Min-jae's startled gaze, the first thing he did was lunge from the divan and throw himself into his lover's arms.

"M—Min-jae," Jeremiah's voice cracked. He was shaking, and he shoved his nose into the spoor of his lover's everything. "Oh, my—! Min-jae!"

Wracked with loads of sadness and perplexity, Min-jae's eyes were wide as his hands trembled when he raised them and touched across the firmness of Jeremiah's back.

What was happening? Was this real? Was he dreaming?

"Jeremiah," the name left Min-jae's lips in a whisper hardly heard.

Min-jae embraced this quivering figure clinging to him, tenderly and with all the care and desperation for this to be real. He tucked his face into the blonde of Jeremiah's hair, savoring every detail about him in the way he smelled, the way he felt in his arms. He didn't want to let him go, didn't want to release Jeremiah as if someone might appear and snatch this moment from him and call him a fool for dreaming up this ghost.

"You're here," Min-jae brought them apart by an inch, both his hands touching his lover's tear-drenched face. He looked a bit different and messy due to the overcoming of emotion shedding from his eyes, but this person before him was Jeremiah, the person he hadn't hesitated to let into his heart and love with all he had. "Don't you ever leave me again," he implored in a whisper. "You were only gone for a day and a night, but with every hour that passed, I knew I would never heal if I lost you. I can't go through that, Jeremiah. I can't lose you. I can't."

"I — I'm here," Jeremiah said through his tears, bringing their lips together again and again as this moment of eager and loving bliss took hold. He squeezed Min-jae tightly as the feelings he already knew existed for him and for each other amplified.

I love you, his mind and body screamed. It was unbreakable and unending, this love, so limitless in how far his own personified devotion for Min-jae ranged. And he could see how clearly it was returned in the way Min-jae held on, breathed him in and kissed him, looked at him. All of it was there, the irrefutable warmth that couldn't be anything other than boundless love.

"But I don't understand," Min-jae said then, hesitant to let Jeremiah out of his arms, but he lightened up the hold. "I thought I lost you."

"I don't remember much after being cornered by two officers," Jeremiah admitted. The night was so hazy. "Next thing I recall is my father, my uncles, and a punch to my chest before everything…went away." Everything had hurt so much in those few seconds. "I was so afraid, Min-jae. All I'd wanted was you and…"

Jeremiah brought himself away a little and scanned the lounge, searching for the heap of warmth that hadn't left his side in all that time until now.

Before he could think to ask where his baby was, several spawns of urgency fast-tracked through the castle halls, and when he turned, the awe-struck eyes of his younger brothers stepped through the high arch. Their eyes were wide, like they must be seeing things, but when Jeremiah stepped forward, Lysander and Gabriel unfroze from their stillness and raced into their brother's open arms. This was real! All of it! And when Avery collided into their joint embrace as well, they went tumbling to the floor from the impact. But they didn't let up, didn't let go until Jeremiah groaned from the breath stolen from his lungs.

"Alright, alright," Jeremiah writhed a bit, and when the boys let up, he was able to stand again with Min-jae's help, but he was immediately bombarded by Sebastian next; the oldest of his young brothers squeezed him so tight Jeremiah was surprised none of it hurt.

Actually, as Jeremiah let Sebastian's hold last, he embraced the boy with one arm and examined the hand of his other. After coming into contact with the substance derived exclusively from the Pyrenean, he'd become far more sensitive to sensations that met his body. A simple embrace came with pressure he had to get used to, but this compression brought to his torso was no longer uncomfortable.

"How?" Sebastian questioned. "We thought… Everyone th ought you had…died."

"I'm not really sure myself," Jeremiah said, unhanded by the teenager, and he flexed his fingers as he looked them over. "I'm just glad to be back."

"Back?" Avery said. "You mean, you actually…"

"I don't know," Jeremiah answered, and he thought about what had taken over after everything went dark.

He'd been confused as to why he couldn't hear or see anything. His thoughts were echoes, and his heart had stilled, like his lungs had frozen over. He'd been floating in the middle of a room with far off walls and blackout windows, and no matter how long he searched or called out, he was met with nothing but silence. That is, until a much appreciated and fond company appeared to find him, like they would always be able to find him. So pleasant and so mild, welcoming, and excited, it could've only been one person, and Jeremiah's heart sang in silence within the chamber of his chest as the understanding of who brought reassurance into him reached out even now.

"So, you're not dead?" Lucius asked from the doorway. He and Cedric had appeared a moment later. They didn't look surprised to see him, nor had they mourned much like their friends, but the stoic tone present in their voices was as typical as the unruffled expressions on their faces.

"Uh," Jeremiah was able to smile. "Seems I'm not. Sorry for the worry."

"We weren't worried," Cedric added, eyeing Jeremiah up and down. "I thought our father was the only one strong enough to kill you anyways."

"Guys…" Sebastian couldn't help but laugh at the twins' forwardness. He knew they couldn't help it, and he was at least glad to be able to work up a genuine smile.

Able to laugh off the twins' frank attitudes as well, Jeremiah looked toward Min-jae when Sebastian unhanded him. "Tae-min," he said. "Where is he?"

With guilt returning to him, Min-jae almost couldn't answer, but said, "He's been with your dad. I haven't left your side."

Able to see the pangs of regret in Min-jae's eyes, Jeremiah slipped his hand into the Korean dhampir's light grip. "Let's go to him," he said. "I'm sure he's been waiting."

Min-jae nodded.

Getting an intimate feel for his senses as he walked, Jeremiah explored what had been missing from him for many months now. He couldn't speak much for his own aura, but everyone around him was prominent again, a bit overwhelming if he were honest, but being able to feel the company of his brothers and the strong proximity of Min-jae beside him brought relief. He couldn't explain what was done to him during the hours his body essentially shut down, but he thought it was safe to say he'd hit a bit of a reset button.

Alongside the fostered peace of his son, Jeremiah could feel Hamilton and Demiesius, and when it seemed they perceived the approaching draw of who grew nearer felt similar to whom they'd begun to mourn, their bedroom door came open and the two stood astounded in the doorway as the unmistakable vision of their son stood before them.

"Jeremiah?" Hamilton let out; tone shaky with skepticism. His eyes darted all about Jeremiah's face, taking in his structure, his all, this person who could be no other than his son, his sweet boy, his Jeremiah.

As if shoved along by a desperation to hold what he thought he'd never get the chance to again, Hamilton went for Jeremiah and he was captured in return, held onto, and clutched as though an apology lay within Jeremiah's arms as well.

Hamilton trembled as he wrung all of the misery from his body. Not only was the short-lived yet almost continuous nightmare over, but he could feel Jeremiah again; in more ways than the simple fact that he was squeezing him for dear life. The air was accompanied by him, and the pleasant and fragrant particles that followed him were floral with traces of woody undertones.

Meeting Jeremiah's eyes, Hamilton cupped his son's face in both hands, and Jeremiah felt a bit guilty from how afraid this gaze looking back at him was. There was an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Hamilton shook his head with an honest smile, like he was telling that there was no need for such.

"Son," Demiesius' voice came then, and Jeremiah looked toward the man.

Confusion was prominent in the elder, but his relief came through, and when Hamilton stepped aside, Demiesius couldn't seem to bring himself to take in Jeremiah's fulfilling return with ease.

Feeling submerged under what weight he'd figured would crush him through the years, Demiesius brought a hand over his eyes and released a long breath. It emptied his usually hollow lungs and he hid his vision as bloody tears threatened to flood his gaze.

"I'm sorry, Father," Jeremiah said, working himself through Demiesius' frozen heartache, and he embraced the man.

"Do not apologize to me," Demiesius said, closing Jeremiah in a firm hold. "As your father… "

I should have been able to save you.

"I should have been able to do more."

When Jeremiah was unhanded by the elder, he denied his father's profession, and said, "Don't say that. I still don't know the details, but I know you would never do something if you didn't stand by your reason for doing so — whatever it may be. But I'm here, Father, Dad, and all I want right now is…"

Jeremiah could see over the top of Demiesius' shoulder and into the bedroom, and there upon his parent's bed lay Tae-min in nothing but a diaper. He was awake in the center of the bed, mouthing small noises, and when Jeremiah moved by his parents with Min-jae at his side, he looked over the tiny boy who seemed to always be thrilled to lay eyes on them.

"There you are," Jeremiah said, feeling complete the instant Tae-min was in his arms, and the makeup of his all melded into him.

This is it, Jeremiah thought. This was what he'd been comforted by in that long moment of nothing; this light, love, and harmony had circled him until the aches were no more and the darkness was driven away.

As he touched a kiss to Tae-min's cheek, Jeremiah was overcome by a sort of gratefulness he hoped to someday be able to convey to his son. He was the one who'd given birth to the boy, was one of the people who was supposed to brace him for the future, nurture, and console him when needed, and yet, Tae-min was oddly such a natural in those areas despite being so small and unaware.

Feeling Min-jae's hand touch the small of his back, Jeremiah brought Tae-min closer to his chest where the boy could hear the soft melody of his heart. Everything was light and calm, beautiful as sweet reminders of regard settled through the halls of the castle. The goodness hovering all over cascaded upon each and every soul within its walls, but much of it spiraled around the one who couldn't have envisioned a proper future if not for the return of the one he'd seen all of it in.

As Jeremiah held their son, Min-jae kissed his lover's temple and breathed in contentment.

The colors of his world had returned to him.