| Title: Rebirth Series: Chosen Author: Brenda Pairing: Harry Sinclair/Karl Urban Rating: R Summary: Love will find its own way. Warnings: Bloodshed, violence Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And I doubt Harry & Karl were ever lovers. But, you never know.
One of the very first things vampires learn is loss. Being immortal in a world full of mortals means you learn to live with it when your friends die, your compatriots die, your lovers die, the world around you dies and changes. Learn to accept it, adapt and move on. It's the nature of the vampire. Karl was no exception. Being born a vampire meant he never learned grief or jealousy or true sorrow. He had been born with a vampire's heart and a vampire's passion, but without the mortal constraints of guilt and regret. But that didn't mean that he couldn't learn to feel them. Here, in the aftermath of this bloody battlefield, holding the other half of his soul as he struggled for every breath, Karl felt both. "Please, Harry..." Harry tried to smile, coughed up more blood, sagged back against Karl's thighs. "Stop begging. Can't...cheat death, old man." Every word was a painfully ground out wheeze. Karl lifted a hand stained almost black with the blood of his enemies...saw only the fresh red stains from the blood of his lover as he brushed back a strand of matted, tangled dark hair. "If this is the way you want it..." "It's the way..." Another cough, and Karl could hear the death rattle squeezing a tight ring around his heart "...it has to be." "No." Karl refused to believe it, couldn't believe it. Five years. So little time. A blink of an eye compared with the eternity of his life. An eternity without this man... "It doesn't have to be this way. Please. Let me help you. Let me save you." "Can't be saved." Harry's body slumped farther in the cushion of Karl's, head resting on Karl's strong thighs. Blood from a dozen tiny wounds oozed and trickled; they were nothing. Harry had borne far worse and survived, laughed at Death. But not this time. This time the enemy's arrow had pierced deep, pierced true – sliced under protective armor to the defenseless skin, mortal flesh and bone beneath. No skilled healer, no surgeon, no expertise could save him. Only a miracle he would not accept, could not ask for. "Better this way," Harry coughed. "Might make it to heaven." Karl bent his head, kissed the sweaty, filthy forehead – tasted only Harry. "I would give you heaven on earth. I would be your heaven. Please." "Don't..." The word was a breathless sigh. Too soon, God, not yet. Karl wasn't ready. Would never be ready. The weight of it was crushing him. So much he had yet to say, so much he had yet to show. They'd only begun to scratch the surface of their lives together...Harry had barely begun to reciprocate the full depth of passion and joy that colored Karl's every waking moment. Karl'd wanted more time, needed more time, to show Harry how good it could be between them. But it was Harry's choice. Always his choice. Another lesson learned early on. Mortals had to have the choice. The choice to be claimed, bonded, gifted – they had to ask. And Karl knew, deep in his soul, that Harry would never, could never, ask. To ask would be to deny all he was, all that Karl loved about him, all that had captivated him, enraptured him. They'd had five years, most of them good, if somewhat tumultuous. Karl guessed easy just wasn't in their natures. "Fine, I'll let you go." Aristocratic fingers traced every inch of that beloved, angled face. He looked into pain-filled tawny eyes, tried to memorize them in an instant, tried to sear the heat inside his skin for all the time to come, but could barely see past the tears stinging his eyes. "I'll let you die." Another soft kiss, this time to full lips...tasted copper and Harry, death and love. "But die knowing this." Karl could tell Harry was struggling past the pain and confusion. But this was important. He wanted Harry to be lucid for this. "What?" Harry rasped. Karl brought one of Harry's limp hands to his lips, pressed a fierce kiss on scarred, bloody fingers. And a tear-choked voice confessed the words he'd never said to another person, made the vow he could never bring himself to make when Harry had been whole. "Die knowing that I love you, Harry Robert Sinclair. I will love you always." Harry was so still Karl thought he might have said it too late, confessed too late. No, please, by all that is merciful, let him have heard. Karl squeezed Harry's hand in his, willed it to squeeze back, willed Harry to live – if will alone could save him, then Karl would give all he was, all he ever would be. Anything for Harry, anything at all. Karl almost fainted in relief when he heard the wheeze of breath, leaned down to make sure he hadn't dreamed it. He'd have a few more minutes...he didn't ask for more than that. "Karl..." It was barely a whisper, so faint Karl thought he might be dreaming it. Karl bent his ear to Harry's lips. "Yes, love?" Harry laid their hands on his chest, just over the wound still oozing fresh blood. "I trust you." Karl lifted his head, too stunned for a moment to speak – looked into brandy-colored eyes, seeking reassurance that he had indeed heard correctly. A small nod, another racking cough, and eyes closed, but not before Karl saw what he needed to see. Thank you, God. Thank you. //Viggo...he asked.// As close as Harry would ever get, but it was good enough for Karl. //You have my blessing, child. I know he'll use it well.// It was all Karl needed to hear. He lifted Harry a bit in his arms, buried his face in the still warm skin of Harry's neck, felt the flutter of the faint pulse. "Hold onto me." Waited for weak hands to grasp his arms. "I love you," he whispered to the flutter, and elongated his fangs, bit the vein – was instantly struck by lightning disguised as blood. Pure and clean, it flashed through him, tasting of bittersweet cocoa beans, exotic and rare, power and fury barely contained, ready to lash out at any moment. He was swimming with greed, overcome with bloodlust and intense energy, when he finally lifted his head, taking the barest instant to tear the flesh on his wrist, offer it to Harry's lips. "Hurry, you haven't got much time." Harry latched on, suckled – at first so weak it was barely a stirring in Karl's blood, but gradually harder and harder until Karl could feel his newfound strength, the strength of his blood, his heart, his soul, all fading away, slipping like quicksand past needy lips. Karl was dizzy, spinning, knew he was going to faint when he yanked his wrist away, closed the wound with a small lick. He leaned into Harry leaning into him, tried to recover breath and thought. "Talk to me." "Fucking hurts..." Harry gasped, then went completely limp in Karl's arms. Don't panic, don't panic, this is normal. Karl repeated the words, a mantra, a plea. He was aware, for the first time, that the air was cold and crisp around him, that the night sky was clear, the bloody ground hard beneath his legs. The smell of blood, of death assaulted his nostrils, and his keen vision picked out the mutilated bodies of the enemy strewn around like dolls carelessly cast aside. It was horrible – a ruin, a waste, a once pretty meadow forever tainted by death and destruction, by man's cruelty – but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the body in his arms as he prayed for his own miracle. Time ebbed and flowed, finally ceased. Only this moment – waiting for a sign, anything. Please, puppy, please... A slight shudder, a ghost of a tremor – Karl held his breath, stilled his heart. Felt the shudder again, this time accompanied by a soft puff of air against his hand. //Harry?// //Fuck...// Karl bowed his head into the crook of Harry's neck, tasted the salt of his tears mingling with the sweat of Harry's body. "I love you." "You keep saying that," Harry grumbled, struggling to sit up. Karl reluctantly loosened his grip, let Harry twist to face him, poked their still-joined hands around the closed wound. "It's healed," he said in a wondering tone. Karl nodded, still too choked up to speak, didn't need speech. Only needed this...only needed to see Harry's beloved face before him, Harry's eyes gazing at him, into him, Harry's soul forever his. In an instant, their lips were fused together, tongues dueling, hands grappling for purchase on blood and sweat-soaked clothing. Elemental and furious, a kiss of raw emotion and profound relief. Affirmation, reclamation of life in a kiss, in the slide of lips and tongues and hands. //Love you, puppy, love you so much...// Karl couldn't stop repeating it, never wanted to stop saying it. A dam had been smashed and it was never going back up, he was never going back. He would repeat it night and day until the end of time if that's what it took, if that was what Harry wanted. "Whoa, wait," Harry gasped, tearing his mouth away from Karl's, chest heaving. "This is just..." he swayed back into Karl's arms. "...dizzy." "Yeah, you'll be unsteady for awhile. You're hungry too, I bet." Harry nodded, the motion muffled against Karl's chest. "We'll feed you in a bit, as soon as we get away from here, get back to camp." Karl helped Harry to his feet, held him when he leaned. "Better?" he asked, after a minute. "Yeah, a little." Harry still clung to Karl's hand, but his voice was clearer, stronger. "Karl..." Karl brushed more strands of dark hair from Harry's forehead, marveled at the touch. His now, his always. A bond that could never be broken. "What is it?" Harry cupped Karl's roughened jaw, and his kiss was aching, poignant, tender beyond even Karl's ability to name. A soft slide into Paradise. "I love you," Harry stated in a pure voice. And Karl thought he just might drown in those eyes. "From this night forth, everything I will ever have or will be is yours." A vampire for less than ten minutes, and already giving a sacred vow. If Karl hadn't been so touched, he'd have found it amusing. Instead all he could do was place his lips against Harry's, return the kiss. And the vow. "Forever yours, Harry. Everything, anything." "I'll take it all." And Karl was finally crushed against that hardened body, taken in a kiss so hot his nerves popped and melted. Both were panting, needy, hurting by the time they parted. "You need to feed me, old man," Harry got out. "I shall fill all of your appetites," Karl promised, delving in for another quick kiss before leading Harry away from the battlefield, towards their camp. "Might take awhile," Harry teased, grazing teeth along Karl's knuckles. "If I'm lucky, puppy, it will take forever."
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