This story begins directly after Ashes to Ashes. AtA spoiler alert!!

Fallen Ashes - the beginning

by Knightraven

(c) 2000

He flew in over the balcony railing and silently lowered himself to the ground. Carefully, he avoided the selected boarding he knew to squeak under his weight.

He would visit here on occasion. His presence completely unknown by the inhabitant.

Standing on her balcony, he would watch her go about her nightly routine until the coming dawn forced him to take his leave. His activities were purely in the communities best interest, of course, at least that's what he kept telling himself...before tonight.

The apartment was dark, she had yet to return home. He would wait. He needed her normalcy, her warmth and basic homeliness tonight. It wasn't something he was inclined to admit to lack in his life, but there were occasions of late when the night seemed too, dark, too lonely. He was a powerful, emotionally efficient man. He needed very little...but then it was always the little things, was it not.

It was cold, below freezing, his undead breath fogging in the night air. In such winter climates such as Canada, even his kind felt the cold.

A half hour later he heard the elevator stop at her level and open its doors. The scraping of the doorlock and her feline pet jumping from the couch and trotting to the door to welcome his master home, was evidence enough of her arrival.

"Hey, there big guy!" Natalie exclaimed as she entered her apartment and was immediately set upon by her cat.

"I bet you're hungry," she told him, swapping the bright overhead light for a softer, smaller lamp.

Lacroix smiled slightly in the soft glow of the living room as he leaned ever so slightly across the window so he could see her moving toward the kitchen. She removed her coat and gloves as she traveled, pausing to hang them in the nearby closet.

It amused him how she spoke to her cat. At times it was an entire conversation. Usually about Nicholas...but there had been one particular scathing rant directed at himself which he had found particularly amusing.

He continued to watch as she fed her cat, shuffled about preparing herself a meal, then disappearing into her bedroom to reappear a few minutes later changed from her work suit into jeans and sweater. She headed toward the fireplace and deftly had a warm fire blazing in no time. Her microwave beeped and she disappeared again returning with a heated meal and a glass of red wine.

She threw some cushions on the floor beside the fire and propped herself up against the couch as she ate while watching television. When she leaned forward to stoke the fire and then settled down to watch a movie, he took a deep breath and sat himself on the cold, ice crisp ground, leaning against the house, keeping just abreast and out of sight of the firelight shining through the balcony doors.

He would stay as long as he could. He sat a listened to her comment sarcastically and then weep at the tale of a man sent back from the dead in the form of a dog to avenge his killer. When the tears fell he just sat and stared at the ice forming on his shoelaces. The past, long since gone and turned to ash, drifted uncontrollably into view, back to times he rather desperately wished to forget, especially tonight, especially now.

Snowflakes began to come to their journeys end around him, settling gently over the city.

He hadn't heard her move until he was startled by the balcony door opening. He froze as Natalie stepped out and smiled as she reached up to try and catch the first snowflakes of the season. Turning to head back inside, she screeched and leapt backwards as she finally saw the dark form huddled on her balcony floor.

"Who...?" Natalie couldn't quite see who was sitting out here, but she knew instantly it was a vampire. Who else would be insane enough to sit outside her apartment in sub-zero temperatures.

"Doctor, I did not mean to intrude..." he said, beginning to push himself up the wall to his feet. It sound rather lame, even to his ears. Not his usual self at all.

"Lacroix? What the hell are you doing out here?" she said more stunned than angry.

Natalie stared at the vampire. She could see him now, her eyes adjusting to the dim outdoor light. He was shivering.

"How long have you been here?" she asked him as he wasn't about to answer her first question. Lacroix glanced about. It was close to dawn, but the snow clouds were keeping the sun at bay, drawing out the night for a few more hours.

Why am I here? he asked himself. He answered his own question, whispered, even to himself.

He had nowhere else to go.

He pushed himself away from where he had been leaning against the building, feeling his body ache with the cold as he moved frozen limbs.

Natalie saw him grimace and there was something else in his eyes...a sadness, so unlike his usual infallible, and confident self.

"Forgive me...I must go," he whispered as he moved toward the railing, readying himself to leap into the air.

Natalie halted him with a word.

"Wait." He turned himself to barely look over his shoulder.

"Why don't you come inside and warm up. You're freezing," she told him. It was then he realised how hard he was shaking. He wasn't entirely sure if it was solely the cold, his whole soul felt as though it were shuddering within him. He was so tempted to just follow her inside, but no, he could not allow himself the luxury, or the torture...

"Thank you, but I must go," he surprised himself when his voice caught slightly in his throat.

The sun took that single divining moment to show itself between a break in the heavy cloud, shining a brilliant burst of light from low on the horizon, raising a hiss from the master vampire as it stung against his exposed skin. Weakened from the night's battle, he had no reserves to resists its rays for long, certainly not long enough to return to the Raven.

Natalie just stood aside and held the door open for him, raising her eyebrows.

Lacroix sighed and turned to glare at the sun for a moment before taking a deep breath and ducking into the warmth of Natalie Lambert's living room.

Natalie quickly re-closed the curtains behind her even though the sun had disappeared once again. She turned to find the chilled vampire standing in the middle of her lounge room, staring into the fire.

He was beginning to melt.

"Here, take off your coat. You're dripping on my carpet," she ordered, moving toward him to follow through with her command if he did not move quickly enough.

Lacroix slowly reached up and unbuttoned his coat and peeled the sodden article from his shoulders.

Natalie helped him and couldn't help feeling his clothes underneath as she divested the vampire of his coat. They were just as bad.

"Take your shoes and socks off too while I go get you something to wear," she told him, turning away and moving to hang up his coat on the coat rack and disappear into her bedroom.

Lacroix frowned and pursed his lips in slight confusion to the situation he now found himself in, then he sighed as he sat on the edge of the couch to pull at his laces. His clothing, which a moment before had been frozen , was now melting in the warmth of the room, marking the carpet in dark wet patches, not to mention the furniture. He gave up trying to pull his laces free and just pushed his shoes off quickly followed by his wet socks. He had not been dressed appropriately for an outdoor winter excursion. But then tonight had hardly gone as expected. He had not thought he would see the rising of the sun today, or any other day...not after last night.

Once again he pushed away the thoughts and rising emotions. He did not want to deal with them now, or ever.

Natalie returned to find him sitting on the edge of the couch, staring into space.

"Here get up off my couch and get out of that wet clothing and change in to these," she said, pulling him up by the arm and thrusting a pair of jeans and a T-shirt into his hands. He snapped out of his light revere and absently took the clothes.

Natalie frowned. He was barely in the same room with her. What had happened to night? What could have possibly occurred which could have shaken the old man up like this? Oh god, Nick!

"Lacroix. Is Nick all right?" she asked him urgently. He absently nodded, then her tone of voice registered with him and he snapped his eyes to meet hers.

"He is fine. A little worse for wear, but well enough," he told her quietly, belaying her rising fears.

"Are you all right?" she asked him gently.

Lacroix was silent for a moment, staring at the dry clothes in his hands. Emotions waged war within him, his pride and honor as a man and soldier, against the trauma and loss of his daughter, his friends...and for a time, his son. His chin crumpled briefly as he silently nodded, conflicting with his answer.

"Yes, perfectly."

Natalie laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked close to tears but they never developed and certainly never fell.

"Come on, let's get you out of those wet things," she said softly, beginning to unbutton his shirt, taking control of the situation, and once he began to help her, rose to fetch a towel from the bathroom for him to dry himself.

She returned to find him where she left him. Only now clothed in dry Black T-shirt and denims.

"Sit by the fire and warm up." She pushed him down onto the nest of pillows she had been sitting on earlier, and he obediently followed her instruction as she eased him to sit closer to the fire.

He had finally stopped shivering, but she took the towel from the coffee table and kneeling behind him, began to gently rub his hair dry.

She almost laughed out loud. She barely knew this man! They had met a handful of times and even then, most of those occasions weren't exactly firtuitive to a warm and lasting relationship between them. She was aware he and Nick were getting along better of late. Ever since Nick was shot, if not for a time before, they had become closer, more at peace, or at least, more tolerant of one another. They had obviously put a few indiscretions between them to rest. It had certainly helped with Nick's state of mind. He was calmer, less morose. He smiled more and snarled less. She suspected a good portion of that particular change, was because Nick was now on human blood. Bottled and donated, of course, but human all the same. He hadn't told her, but she had found the bottles in his refrigerator and strangely enough, though nothing of it. Nick was happier now, and that was all that mattered.

Finishing with the ancient's hair, she left him to enter the kitchen and pull out a bottle of Nick's bloodwine. Opening it she poured a generous amount into a mug and warmed it slightly in the microwave. Taking it back to the living room, she handed the vampire the mug and sat down beside him. He stared at it for a moment, then slowly raised it to his lips and took a sip, then another, until he was eventually swallowing it in large mouthfuls. Natalie rose and went to fetch the bottle. She silently took his mug and filled it again. He avoided looking at her but took the offered sustenance and drank it down again without a word. He had not fed since his fight with Divia. A quick bottle to heal his wounds, then he had prepared his daughters body for burial. He'd not touched a drop since, and until now, hadn't felt terribly hungry. He quickly polished off the bottle and sighed as he sat back against the pillows propped behind his back.

Natalie sat beside him. She had not asked him a single question, though he was sure she was near bursting with them. She was letting him set the pace.

"Let me get you a blanket. You must be tired," Natalie said and made to rise to her feet. But Lacroix stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm, which he quickly removed.

"No. I am fine," he told her. He was tired, exhausted actually, but he had no desire whatsoever to sleep right now. He would never sleep again if it meant he could avoid the dreams of a guilty man

Natalie watched him closely as he stared back into the fire. What was he thinking? More importantly, why was he doing it on her doorstep, so to speak? Had he been watching her? She felt somewhat oddly flattered as well as a good dose of anger at the thought of him watching her. She wondered if he did it often. But for now she let it all go. They would deal with that later.

"Why don't you lie down and at least rest," she said gently. She heard him sigh and then rise a little to shuffle down to lay his head against the pillows. Turning onto his side, so he faced the flames, he again felt himself mesmerized by their orange, glowing flicker.

Natalie moved back a little and rose to her feet. She was beat, she had just pulled a double shift and all she needed right now was sleep.

"Well...I'm beat. I'm hitting the hay." She turned toward her bedroom, but was stopped by the movement from the vampire on her living room floor. He had pulled his knees up and was now looking about as helpless as she thought he could ever be. She had the distinct impression he would rather she stayed.

"Mind you, it's rather cold in my room. I think I might just take the couch. If you don't mind, the company?" she said, watching his reaction carefully. She saw his shoulders relax as little he rasped,

"Not at all."

She went to grab her duvet and pillow from her bed and bring them back to the couch. Crawling beneath them, her head above the ancient vampires, she sighed gently and closed her eyes.

The whisper was so soft she almost hadn't heard it.

"I lost my daughter tonight."

Turning her head, she stared down at the man below her. He was still staring into the fire, the light from which was softening his hard, ancient features, and reflecting in his ice blue eyes.

"Janette?" she asked him quietly.

"No."

Natalie waited for him to continue.

"Divia. She was my mortal daughter...and my sire." His voice still a barely audible whisper, as though he were telling her a secret.

If what Nick had told her about the strength importance of a link between a vampire master and child was anywhere near true, losing both his sire and his daughter must have been a tragic blow.

"I'm sorry," Natalie breathed. She saw his lips purse slightly, but he remained silent. A few moments later he continued.

"I thought she had killed Nicholas. She told me as much," he told her. Natalie didn't quite understand, realising she was missing a few pieces of the puzzle. The Egyptian? Vachon? Urs? Had she killed them too? Who was this vampire?

"She was 14 years of age when she was brought across in 79AD. When Pompeii erupted, she brought me across to join her."

A child? Natalie thought, dumbfounded by his words.

"The one which brought her into the darkness, died at her hands soon after. He had infected her with his evil...and the evil she carried within her, that sired from my own loins, was exacerbated a hundred times over. She was truly evil. And when she asked me to do the unthinkable; something a father should not do with his daughter...I took her life and sealed her in a tomb deep within the Valley of Kings." When he spoke, his tone remained level, almost as though he were reciting mere information...a history lecture, not his life and that of his daughter.

"Egypt," Natalie said. It confirmed the link between the body found at the Raven and this Divia.

"Vachon? Urs?" she asked him.

"Urs?" His head turned toward her slightly. The dancers demise was apparently news to him.

"I'm sorry," Natalie whispered. His head dropped back down to the pillow and he once again trained his sight to the dancing flames.

"Yes, she killed them and anyone else around me. She wished to force upon me the conditions she had been living these past two thousand years,"

"And that was?"

"That I was to experience what it felt to be completely and utterly alone," he rasped. "And for an eternal moment...she had her wish." The last few words fell softly and caused a tear to come to Natalie's eye.

Tonight had all been to much...even for Lucien Lacroix.

"She was about to behead me when Nicholas, ever the knight, saved the day, removing her from this existence as I should have done two thousand years before."

A silence fell between them, the story at it's conclusion. Natalie rolled onto her side and dropped a hand down to brush her fingers across his short hair. She couldn't stop herself, she needed to comfort him in some way, and he made no move to refuse it.

Everything suddenly came into focus in his mind. The black sense of emptiness he had felt since Divia had told him of his son's demise, was filled like a sinking ship with immense loneliness, and the fear and guilt and overwhelming greif of tonights events.

She saw his jaw ripple as he strained to keep himself composed.

"Are you okay?" she asked him once again, her tone soft and amiable.

Lacroix stared into the fire, and before he could even think about answering, his head shook gently in the negative. No, he was not okay.

Natalie sighed. She continued her stroking as she watched the firelight in his eyes become more pronounced as they became moist, then her own chin wavered as the first tear gently rolled down his cheek and onto the pillow below.

End.

Will more come of the relationship between the good Doctor Lambert and the vampire master, Lacroix? Stay tuned...