Guilt Kills

Chapter Seven

By Cory!! Strode

O'Ryan slept almost a complete day before he was able to get up and ready to get moving. When he awoke, his shoulder still hurt, but the pain was mostly gone in his leg. Mercy had been well behaved, but O'Ryan quickly took her outside so as not to push his luck and be stuck with cleaning more or the room than he would have liked.

He expertly packed his things, made a couple of phone calls and then called Rick, telling him to give him another twenty four hours before doing anything about the whisky shipment. Rick put up a bit of a struggle, but when O'Ryan started mentioning Nitti, Rick quickly backed down and said he'd wait until he heard from O'Ryan before sending his men to the warehouse in Galesburg. O'Ryan could tell he wasn't happy about it, but at this point, it didn't matter.

O'Ryan checked out of the hotel, got directions to where he was going and was on the road less than a half-hour after he'd awoken.

He drove in silence, not thinking about what was to come. He had been taught that once a decision was made, not to question it, but to simply devote himself to the task. It was an hour drive, and as he drove, Mercy remained in the front seat, instead of her usual perch in the back, and she kept her muzzle on his lap, pushing her nose under his hand when it wasn't on the wheel to force him to pet her.

O'Ryan didn't have a grand, elaborate plan, or any sort of slick moves planned. He was just on his way to face Mater Heenan, if he was even still there, and if he wasn't, to get information on where he was. It didn't make much sense to him, but nothing that had happened over the past six months had made any sense.

Maybe that was the lesson he was to take from his time out in the world, that nothing really made much sense, when you got down to it.

The drive was quiet, and when he got to Galesburg, he stopped at a service station and got directions to the warehouse. It was very easy to find, and when he found it, he drove for a while, leaving town and finding a deserted road by a lake. There were places where people would stop and have picnic and sit by the lake in the summer, but spring was still too new and cold for people to be doing that yet.

He parked, making sure the car wasn't visible from the road, and opened the trunk. Inside it were his weapons and he made sure to equip himself completely. Two pistols, tucked away in holsters under his blazer, knives in his boots, two sai in special sheaths he was able to strap to his legs, and a shotgun that he tossed in the back seat.

Then, when he was sure that he was all set, he walked down to the edge of the water and sat, cross-legged, and closed his eyes. For the next few hours, he sat motionless, waiting for the sun to go down, and allowing himself to be lost in thought. He thought about how Nitti had used him, and how he would have to do something about it if he was able to survive the fight. He thought very hard about the two fights he had had with Master Heenan, replaying them over and over in his head, trying to find some sort of flaw in his technique. There were very few, and they were so minute that it would be hard for him to exploit them in any sort of meaningful way.

Then, almost unbidden, his thoughts turned to Belinda.

He remembered everything about their conversation over lemonade on her porch and how she wished she could go with him and just leave everything behind. He also remembered how he wanted to tell her that he wished he could just stay there and not have to deal with his life and all of the running and fighting anymore. She knew so little about him, and he so little about her, but he wanted to know more. She'd made him promise that after he was done with his assignment, he'd come back by and see her again.

He had meant it at the time.

Now, he didn't know if he'd be able to keep the promise. If Master Heenan had taken off somewhere, he would have to follow and not let the trail get cold.

If Master Heenan was there, he might not survive to go back. In their first fight, he'd lost, and if not for the other masters, Heenan could have easily killed him. In the second fight, Master Heenan was trying to kill him.

Their next fight, O'Ryan would be fighting for vengeance, but would that be enough in light of Master Heenan's superior skills? And that was before the dark God was unleashed. For all O'Ryan knew, Master Heenan might not even be human anymore.

But, O'Ryan reasoned, if he wasn't human, why would he be involved in selling booze?

It was the one part of the equation that didn't fit.

Night slowly fell, and as the moon became bright in the sky, O'Ryan got back in his car and drove back to the warehouse. It was on the west side of town, where there were mostly tractor dealers and a huge grain mill, but there were a few warehouses, mostly so that they could get things into the trains that went through the area, to be shipped out East.

O'Ryan cased the joint again, and there were lights on inside the building, but only three cars. He didn't recognize any fo them, so he was relatively sure that Rick hadn't sent his men early to try and get the whisky before O'Ryan got there. O'Ryan parked a few blocks away, and with Mercy, kept to the darkness until they got to the building.

He crept up to it on one of the sides without windows, and as he got near the building, he heard a familiar voice say, "It certainly took you long enough. I was wondering if you gave enough of a damn about the masters to even try to get revenge."

The voice came from above him, and when he looked up, Master Heenan was on top of the building, looking down at him. Before O'Ryan could react, he felt himself being lifted into the air, as if tossed by an unseen hand, and then he could feel himself falling. Before he could do anything he landed on the roof about twenty five yards away from Heenan, who looked must different than he had when O'Ryan had last seen him.,

His hair was now completely gray, and while he still looked strong and solidly built, he also looked as if he had aged twenty years in the six months since O'Ryan had seen him.

He was breathing hard, as if the act of using some kind of magick on O'Ryan had exhausted him.

O'Ryan started to get up, but he couldn't. He was held down by some unknown force, and he was barely able to even move his arms enough to put them in a position to push himself up.

Before O'Ryan could say anything, Master Heenan said, "Does my appearance shock you? Good! Maybe it can be a lesson for you, that magick, no matter how it is gained, exacts a price. It took the sacrifice of all of the masters and student to free the Dark God, but to get free of its influence, it took quite a lot out of me. When I discovered you were still alive, I thought to myself, what a wonderful way to get more of the power I need.

"You see," Master Heenan said, getting out some sort of wand, "you're the last one. You have the power that I need. So, when I drain it from you as you die, I'll be as young as I was."

O'Ryan struggled against the force holding him down, pushing against it as hard as he could, but the more he pushed, the harder it help him down.

"It took a while for me to realize that you survived, O'Ryan. But when you clumsily started asking around about me, and using the magick you were taught by those fools, you sent waves of information to me. It didn't take very long at all to discover what you were doing, and then to draw you into a trap," Heenan gloated. He walked over to O'Ryan and knelt down beside him, holding the wand in one hand, and balancing himself with the other.

"Too bad it's all over so quick. I would have liked another fight with you to show you just how poor your fighting skills were. However, I have a ceremony to perform. I'd tell you to pay attention so that you could learn something, but you won't be alive to see how it is finished."

Heenan stood up and pulled a small, cloth bag out of his pocket and started to pour the contents of it it in a circle around O'Ryan. O'Ryan had no idea what Heenan was about to do, but he would not allow himself to die laying on the ground, when Heenan was within reach. He shoved at the ground, pushing as hard as he could, and the force holding him down held him even stronger.

Then, O'Ryan remembered one of the teachings he had always had the most trouble with. He remembered how Master Grant would drill into his head over and over that sometimes, when fighting against something, you had to surrender to it. He would then drill O'Ryan endlessly on defensive moves, which O'Ryan hated. He would rather be attacking.

Master Grant would repeat to him that sometimes, to surrender to a force was the only way to beat it.

With that memory, O'Ryan gave up and quit pushing to get up. He let himself relax, and closed his eyes. He forced himself to forget what was going on around him, and just to relax and concentrate on his breathing. He could hear Mercy barking off in the distance, and shut it out of his mind. He could hear Master Heenan begin to chant something, and he shut it out of his mind.

And, when he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat, he sprang to his feet, brushing aside the force holding him down and able to assume a fighting stance.

Master Heenan stopped chanting and started to chant something different, twisting one of his hands in an odd way, but before he could finish it, O'Ryan had leapt from the circle of ash on the roof and was standing next to Master Heenan. O'Ryan went for one of his guns, which caused Heenan to stop chanting, finally, and strike out with a physcial attack.

O'Ryan blocked it with a flick of his arm and assumed a fighting pose.

"So, we have to go through this again?" Heenan said.

Before O'Ryan could reply, Heenan struck out with kicks, high, spinning, and hard for O'Ryan to block. O'Ryan spun, dodging most of them, and knocked the ones he couldn't dodge with a swift movement of his arms, knocking the blows to the side. He could still feel them in his arm where he hit, but it hurt much less than it would if they would have nailed him in the chest or head, as they were aimed.

Heenan howled in frustration, his kicks getting wilder as he spun, but O'Ryan became more focused as he struck down the blows. O'Ryan could see his attack pattern and matched his responses to that pattern.

Heenan leapt into the air, attempting a flying scissors kick to O'Ryan's head, but when O'Ryan was able to land a blow of his own to his leg, Heenan hit the ground and tumbled away, landing in a defensive crouch. "Damn you," Heenan said in a hiss.

O'Ryan reached behind his back and pulled out his two sai. He spun them as he pulled them out, making sure he had the balance correct, and then crossed them in front of his face, putting himself into a defensive pose again. "I believe that you are the one who is damned," O'Ryan said, waiting for Heenan to make the next move.

O'Ryan did not attack. He had fought Heenan before and knew that what he had to do was defend himself and wait for Heenan to make a mistake he could exploit. To attack someone more skilled than yourself was foolishness. You just wait from them to make a mistake.

Heenan began to draw a small circle on the ground, and O'Ryan hurled one of the sai at Heenan's head to break up his spell casting, and Heenan was able to both dodge the throw and grab the said as it went by.

"Foolish move, the only weapon I have is the magic I need to use to drain your life away. Now, I have this," Heenan said, holding up the sai.

"Yes, but I also know that you can't kill me. If you kill me without the ritual, you won't be able to drain my life and power. So, it puts you at a disadvantage. Odd, isn't it, Master Heenan. You can't kill me, but the only thing I care about in the world is killing you," O'Ryan said.

Heenan charged at that point, and stabbed clumsily out of anger again.

O'Ryan was able to parry the blow, and capture the sai with the edges and handle of his own, locking it so that Heenan couldn't move it. They stood there, eyes locked, both struggling to free their locked blades to try and get some sort of advantage. Heenan was stronger, but O'Ryan had a better stance. As Heenan tried to force the sai down, O'Ryan moved one of his feet into a better position slowly and started to use his leverage to force Heenan back.

Just before Heenan was knocked off balance, he let go of the sai. The sudden shift caused O'Ryan to lurch forward, and Heenan was able to kick him sharply in the leg that had been shot back in Chicago a few days previously.

O'Ryan felt his leg buckle under him and he hit the ground hard. Heenan tried to stomp on his, but O'Ryan was still nimble enough to avoid the stomps. The pain was near blinding, and O'Ryan was having incredible difficulty concentrating on the shifts of Heenan's stance so that he could anticipate the coming stomp. The stomps stopped, and O'Ryan saw Heenan drawing back to attempt to land a blow on his, and he rolled toward Heenan, hitting him in the legs and knocking him backward. O'Ryan rolled the opposite way and too advantage of the pause in the battle to get up. His leg almost buckled a second time, but O'Ryan forced himself to stand, knowing that if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to get up again.

Heenan got up and glared at him, pure hate in his eyes. O'Ryan forced himself to keep the reason for the fight out of his mind. He had been taught that emotion clouded your vision and made it harder to fight, not easier. The sai were both on the ground behind Heenan, and therefore were hopelessly out of reach. O'Ryan assumed another defensive stance, but Heenan wouldn't attack. Instead, he motioned for O'Ryan to charge him.

O'Ryan started to reach for one of his guns, since the best way to fight an opponent with a higher skill level was to do the unexpected, but as he reached for the gun, Master Heenan came at him, this time with fists flying, and in pure attack mode. He was barely able to get a decent defense mounted, and Heenan was relentless with his attack, flying at him with fists and kicks faster than O'Ryan could follow. Some of the blows made it through, but O'Ryan was focusing so much on his technique that they caused little pain when they hit.

Heenan was trying to overwhelm O'Ryan with blow after blow, but O'Ryan simply stuck to defending himself against the blows. O'Ryan used perfect form, thinking not of the blows themselves, but of the pattern in which they were coming, since everything has a pattern, and all he had to do to defend himself was to know it and work it.

However, he was still greatly outmatched, and Heenan was able to get a blow to the shoulder that had also been shot in Chicago, and then reinjured when he was breaking into Rick's building. O'Ryan screamed out in pain, and Heenan hit him with a double palm blow to the chest, knocking him back and to the ground.

The world went gray, and O'Ryan had to fight to maintain consciousness. When the world came back into focus, he had no idea how long his head had been swimming, but he saw that Heenan had the two sai, and was coming toward him. O'Ryan struggled to get up and out of the way, but Heenan was too fast, and all he was able to do was dodge the one sai that came down, and while it was intended to do more damage, it did enough.

O'Ryan felt the pain of the sai piercing his shoulder and the world swam around him again, and he could feel everything going black.

As he did, he could hear the voice of Master Solitaire.

"It is not done yet. You have to fight."

"I'm tired," O'Ryan said, not knowing if he was saying it aloud or just in his head, "Everything I have found out since leaving the home has been a lie. I work for killers, I do not know how to entrap the Dark God, and Master Heenan is stronger, faster and better than I am."

"No, he is not," Master Solitaire said, "He is merely more vicious. You have the skills to defeat him. You have done it before. Do not worry about your mistakes, for all of us have made them."

"You didn't," O'Ryan said.

"Yes, I did," Master Solitaire said, "I was blind to Master Heenan's growing ambition and evil. Only you can redeem me. Do not join the ghosts who live their afterlife with regret. You can fight and win. The Dark God can be defeated as well, when you are ready, but for now, you must defeat Master Heenan."

"How?" O'Ryan said.

There was no answer.

He could feel the world coalesce around him again, and he was able to tell that whatever had happened had taken less time than it took in his own mind. Master Heenan was just pulling back from pinning him to the roof, and the sweat from his face was dripping into O'Ryan's.

O'Ryan shut his mind to the pain and kicked upwards with the leg that Heenan was strattling. With the low blow, Heenan grabbed his crotch and sprang away, yowling in pain. O'Ryan reached over with his free hand and grasped the handle of the sai and pulled. The pain blinded him, and he nearly stopped again, but O'Ryan thought of the lives Master Heenan had taken. The pain he had caused. The path he had chosen.

And as he did, he pulled one more time, screaming as he pulled the sai free.

O'Ryan struggled to his feet, and tossed the sai aside. Master Heenan was also struggling to his feet, and he looked at O'Ryan and said, "Broken and bloody. At least you put up a fight. The Masters who guarded the Dark God died with looks of surprise on their faces to take to eternity with. They did not suspect."

O'Ryan could feel the blood flowing down his arm, and his shoulder was completely numb. He was unable to even use the arm, which hung there, unable to move, unable to aid in his defense.

"Why do you fight me?" Heenan said, his frustration showing on his face.

"Because I must," O'Ryan said.

His leg still in pain, his shoulder making it so it was hard for him to even stay upright, O'Ryan stood and forced his body to assume a defensive pose.

"Then, I will do what I must," Heenan said, and charge again. O'Ryan didn't move, but simply watched, waited, and then at the very last second, he leg his injured leg give way, allowing him to drop to the ground. He used his good leg to sweep Heenan's legs out from under him, and the force of the blow made Heenan tumble to the ground in a clumsy somersault. O'Ryan reached into his boot and pulled out one of his knives and struggled to his feet. He assumed another defense stance, but made sure that the knife was hidden in his good hand.

Heenan got to his feet and shook off the blow he'd taken. He turned to face O'Ryan.

O'Ryan knew how he must have looked. Barely able to stand, one arm dangling at his side, blood now covering his left side, and a dazed, mad look in his eyes. He looked at Heenan, and when he saw the look of triumph in Heenan's eyes, he smiled.

Heenan ran at him, and O'Ryan could tell by his style of attack that he was going to go after his good leg.

O'Ryan stood his ground under Heenan was close enough, and then shifted his weight to the good leg, holding out the knife in the uninjured hand.

Heenan didn't see the knife, and took a blow to the stomach. He stopped there, unmoving, and then looked at O'Ryan, a look of wonder and confusion on his face.

O'Ryan pulled his hand back, and pulled the knife out of Heenan's stomach.

Heenan snack to his knees, holding his stomach. O'Ryan was unable to stand any longer, and fell backwards, causing his shoulder to hurt even more. O'Ryan felt the world swim around him, but fought to remain awake.

He sat up and watched as Heenan stared out in to space, holding his stomach, the blood pouring out of the stomach wound.

"Damn...you..." Heenan said.

"I told you," O'Ryan said, between deep, agonized breaths, "You are the one who is damned. Why did you not simply call on the Dark God to kill me?"

Heenan laughed, "You know so little...that is not how the Dark God works. He has infiltrated the essence of our world, and will cause chaos and destruction over the next years. As he gathers in power, he will cause people to hate easier, allow tyrants to rise and kill entire races. Financial systems will collapse, people will enter a world of pain and misery and not know why. And you can do nothing to stop it."

"But, if you do not get the power to control such things, why betray your brothers?" O'Ryan said, confused.

"Because," Heenan said, blood starting to come from his mouth when he coughed, "I would be the one at the head of the armies that will darken the world. Now...now...oh God..."

With that, Heenan fell over. O'Ryan watched, but he didn't move.

Master Heenan was dead.

It was as soon as O'Ryan realized that that he closed his eyes himself, allowing the darkness that had threatened to drag him down envelop him.

* * *

O'Ryan had no idea how long he was out. He didn't dream, as he slept, and as he woke up, the only thing he could really tell was that his leg and shoulder were still in pain. He tried to open his eyes, but the light was so bright that he had to squeeze them shut again as the light actually hurt as well.

He felt as if he was moving in slow motion, and when he tried to reach up to shade his eyes, he felt his hand stop just a few inches after he'd lifted it. He tried again and heard the harsh sound of metal on metal. He tried moving the other hand, and got the same result. He opened his eyes, letting them get adjusted to the light, and looked down to see that he was handcuffed to a hospital bed in a very bright room. He tried to move his legs, and could feel that they were restrained as well.

He jerked his head back and forth in the bed, and saw that he was simply in a bed in a hospital room, with a couple of chairs in the room and the door to the room shut.

He looked around for something to try and break his restraints, but there was nothing near the bed and nothing with his very limited reach. He looked around for any sign as to where he was, but there was nothing.

Trapped, he thought to himself. If Heenan was able to somehow survive, he would have already killed me, so it can't be him who has trapped me here.

He was about to call for help when a nurse came into the room. She was short, and dressed all in white, and when she saw him awake, she gasped and left the room. O'Ryan could hear her running down the hall, away from his room.

He looked over the bed, trying to see if there was a weak point, somewhere where he could slip the handcuffs off of the bed and possibly get away.

There wasn't.

Before he could do any more a doctor came into the room and said, "I'm sorry we restrained you. While you were recovering, you started to convulse and tried to attack the doctor who was helping you. I doubt you remember, since you were very medicated, but it was pretty bad. We kept you restrained since you kept thrashing in your sleep. If we take them off, will you stay in bed? You're still recovering," the doctor said in a calm voice.

O'Ryan thought that if he was trashing around so bad that they had to tie him down, it must have been pretty bad.

"Where am I?" O'Ryan asked, ignoring the doctor's question.

"You're in a hospital in Galesburg. Just a couple of miles from where we found you," the doctor said. He then stuck his head out of the room and muttered something O'Ryan couldn't make out to a nurse in the hallway. O'Ryan saw her nod and then walk off. The doctor came fully into the room and sat in one of the chairs. O'Ryan noticed that the chair was fairly far away, and well out of reach.

O'Ryan looked around the room again, and decided that if they were going to hurt him, they would have done it while he was knocked out or sleeping off the medication. He settled back in the bed and closed his eyes before saying, "I'm not going to hurt anyone. I just need some answers and I don't like being..." he help up one manacled arm, "...restrained."

"I don't like the idea of restraining anyone," the doctor said. O'Ryan opened his eyes and was disappointed to see that the doctor hadn't moved. He pulled a clipboard with a bunch of papers clipped to it out from under the chair and looked it over before talking.

"You were in a pretty bad fight. As bad as you were, you got the better of the other guy. He went to the morgue. According to the cop who was here, that's probably a good thing, said the other guy was a gang lord from Peoria who'd brought in a big shipment of booze. There were a bunch of feds here too, and they wanted to talk to you when you got up but the cop said you would need a day or so to get your bearings."

O'Ryan nodded, carefully, not giving anything away, then he asked, "I had a dog at the scene. Is she all right?"

"Oh yes," the doctor said, "The cop said she's at his place, and that you'd ask about her as soon as you got up. Now, you haven't had anything solid for a good 5 days, so I'm going to have the nurse bring you some food, nothing too series, just soft foods and milk to start with. I've had the nurse call your policeman friend, so he should be here when you get done. Is there anything else I can get you?"

O'Ryan held up his hand, showing the handcuff and the doctor said, "Yes, the nurse is getting the keys. We had to give them to one of the local policemen. Officer Spencer said you'd understand."

The doctor stood up wrote a few things in O'Ryan's file and then stepped back toward the door. He went out into the hallway for a moment, and then came back in with a newspaper. "Officer Spencer said you'd want to read this when you woke up."

He tossed the newspaper onto O'Ryan's bed, and he was able to see the headline before he picked it up. He was barely able to hold it in his manacled hands, and read it out loud, just because he thought that if he did, it would make it seem like he wasn't dreaming.

"Capone Behind St. Valentine's Day Massacre," he said, slowly.

"Yeah," the doctor said, "It's been all the news for the past few days. Guess they finally were able to pin something on that son of a bitch. Pardon my language..."

The doctor left the room, and O'Ryan started reading the article in the newspaper he had called before leaving Peoria.

* * *

It was only a little while after O'Ryan ate that John showed up. The food was hard for O'Ryan to eat, his throat was sore, but once he could feel the food in his stomach, he felt ravenous, and ate until he almost felt ill from eating too much.

John sat in the room with O'Ryan and filled him in on what had happened since he'd fought Master Heenan. While he was fight, Mercy had gone for help, and had been able to get the attention of a guard in another building who followed her to where the fight had been. Once he'd gotten to the roof, the police had been called. Heenan was dead, and John had to reassure O'Ryan a number of times that he was, indeed, dead.

O'Ryan wouldn't let him go on with the story until John promised him to let him see the body, and once he had, John was able to go on. He had shown up when he read about a man named "O'Ryan" found on the top of a warehouse filled with whisky, and he'd told the police that O'Ryan had been working with him on a case that had started in Havana, giving out just enough of the information about the night they had met to make it plausible, but leaving out enough so that neither of them would be investigated further.

The feds had shown the next day and John had done the same, leaving out what O'Ryan told him on his last phone call before leaving Peoria.

John had taken Mercy home and was keeping her in the back yard. John said that she hadn't been eating since being there, and O'Ryan told him that she was a very picky eater, and would probably only eat corned beef hash without O'Ryan there to work with her.

John laughed at that, and O'Ryan actually flashed a smile for the first time since John had met him.

They talked a while longer, and John said that when O'Ryan was able to be released, he could stay with him as long as he needed.

O'Ryan didn't talk about the fight. He didn't talk about what Master Heenan had said about the Dark God being an influence that would plunge the world into darkness. He just thanked him and asked if there was anything else he could do to help the feds nail Capone.

As John left, he smiled and said, "I'm sure they'll come up with something.

The next day, the feds spent the entire day talking with O'Ryan. He told them everything he knew about Nitti and Capone, but since he didn't have much in the way of paper to back it up, they wouldn't be able to use much of it. However, a balding man with a huge briefcase filled with paper seemed to be the most interested in how they handled their money, and O'Ryan told them everything he knew.

A few days later, O'Ryan was released. John showed up that day, with Mercy in the back seat, but before O'Ryan left the hospital, he went to the morgue with John.

There, he was shown the body of Master Heenan. O'Ryan stared down at it for what felt to John like an eternity, before he said anything.

And when he did, he said, "I thought it would feel different."

"What?" John said, seeing that O'Ryan had not taken his eyes off of Heenan's face.

"Winning." O'Ryan said, "I thought that if I won, if I beat him, it would feel different. I thought that if I defeated him, and took from him what he took from everyone I knew I would feel better. That in avenging them, the heaviness would go away. I thought that once you finish a quest, everything changes.

"The truth is that I feel worse. I still miss them, and even though I've done the only thing I knew how to do, it doesn't make anything better. He's dead, but it doesn't change the fact that they died a pointless death. It just means that now, I have no one to blame for how empty I feel."

O'Ryan stood there a while longer before John put a hand on his shoulder and nodded, tilting his head toward the door.

O'Ryan looked deep into Heenan's face before finally saying, "Isn't revenge supposed to make it all even? Isn't that what we are told? That if we kill the killer, it is all made right?"

"I don't know," John said, "all I do know is that he won't be able to kill any more people. It may not be enough, but it's all we have."

"You're right. It's not enough."

O'Ryan then turned and walked out of the morgue, not looking back.

* * *

It took O'Ryan a little over a month to recover. As he did, he opened up more and more to John and his wife, but kept some things to himself, even when he felt that he could trust them completely. He knew enough not to talk about the Dark God, or the magicks that had been unleashed upon the world. The only thing he did tell them that could be connected to it was when they would talk about problems with the economy or what was going on over in Germany, O'Ryan would say that there was probably more to it than they thought.

The doctors had told him that he would be rid of the limp in a few weeks, but they had no idea if his shoulder would ever completely heal. The damage that had been done to it could be so severe that his arm might never regain all of its feeling. O'Ryan would exercise as soon as he was able, and even though he regained a lot of the use of his arm, he could tell that the nerves had been damaged, and he would never be as good a fighter as he had been. He was still better than anyone not from the home, but he would never be as good as he was during that fight with Master Heenan.

Once he was as recovered as he would be, he thanked John and his wife for taking care of him, and even though they refused money the first two times he offered, O'Ryan waited until John had gone to work and told his wife that he knew that it had cost them money to take care of him, and he would not allow her to refuse the money he gave her. O'Ryan didn't much care about the money, since he had all of the money from the home to live of. A couple of thousand dollars would mean far more to them than it would to him.

He and Mercy drove back to the small town he had gotten gas, and they pulled into the same gas station they had stopped at the first time they had come through town. This time, it was almost 9 at night, and the only lights on in town were a few in the houses and the sign proclaiming that the gas station was still open.

O'Ryan pulled up the gas pump, and parked the car, getting out as soon as he turned the car off. Before Carl could come out and ask how much gas he wanted, he knocked on the door to the station and waved at Carl. Carl, who was engrossed in a pulp magazine looked up and saw it was O'Ryan. He started to jump up, but O'Ryan waved at him to sit down and opened the door. Before Carl could say anything, O'Ryan asked, "Is Belinda home?"

"She shore is, I should tell her that..."

O'Ryan cut him off and said, "No, I want to surprise her. Would that be all right?"

Carl broke out in a big grin and said, "I think she'd like that fine, Mr. O'Ryan."

O'Ryan grinned and said, "Just O'Ryan, friend." The grin felt good. It was odd to him, since it was a strange feeling. A mixture of happiness, nervousness and anticipation. He'd always been told that the best word to describe him was "dour", and that he never smiled, but now he was grinning like a small child who had been told there was cake after supper.

He walked around the small garage that the gas station used for car repair and saw the small, one story house that was tucked neatly behind it. There was a light on in the kitchen, and O'Ryan could see Belinda sitting at the kitchen table, writing on a notepad. He stopped and looked at her before knocking on the door.

She wasn't made up, like she had been at the restaurant. Her short, curly red hair was tied back with a kerchief so that it was out of her face. Her round face was a mask of concentration, and O'Ryan could tell that she had a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was in a gingham housedress and had a glass of iced tea getting warm beside her as she wrote furiously in her notebook.

She looked much younger than she had at the restaurant, and for some reason that made O'Ryan less nervous. She had look so mature when he first met her, but she had acted like a little girl. Now, she looked more like she was just on the edge of being an adult, even though she was at moist a year younger than he was.

He walked up to the door and was about to knock, but stopped. The nervousness hit him hard, and he wondered if she would want to see him this late, what with her looking like she was very busy, and it was so late that she might be getting ready for bed.

He was about to turn around and go back to the car when he saw he stop, put down the pencil and stretch. She had a look on her face that reminded him of how he had looked when he saw himself in the mirror so many times in his apartment in Chicago. That look of feeling alone.

He steeled himself and knocked on the door. She looked over, saw it was him, and practically knocked over her chair in her rush to get to the door. She flung it open and threw her arms around him, saying, "I was so worried about you! You said that you would come back when you were done, but it's been over a month and...and..."

She pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes. They stayed there for a second, just looking into each other's eyes, and then she kissed him.

O'Ryan kissed her back. His first kiss.

She drew back and gazed at him again. She looked him up and down and said, "That work you had to do...is it done?"

O'Ryan smiled, and now he felt as if the weight of his past was lifting as he said, "Yes. It's all done. Now, what is it you are working on?"

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