Dead Ringers: Chapter 3 - We'll Meet Again

Y'all still with me? Neat. Do I need to do a recap? Okay. Lessee. Chapter two. Dead dude shows up, reads bio Karena wrote about him. It bothers him, because he thought that shit was private, yo. Archangel takes him to task on it, makes things worse (gee, thanks, Gabe!). Death is.. on holiday. I guess. So, here we go into chapter 3.

WARNINGS: Still moar WW2 stuffeths, with the peaked cap and the oh god issat a Nazi (no it is not!), adult suggestive themes. No nudity. Really crappy attempt at Bayou accents, again.

The next morning, Karena awakened to the murmur of voices downstairs, and the heady smell of breakfast. She yawned, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and headed for the bathroom to get dressed.
Finishing her morning tidying, she walked down the stairs, turned the corner and headed to the kitchen.

She stopped for a moment, startled at the man checking the heat of the stove with his bare hand, as one would have done back in his era of no oven thermometers. She still didn't believe this was all real. She grabbed a mug and poured herself a coffee, adding the egg nog to it as her habit was. The man checking the stove avoided her gaze, as if embarrassed.

Perhaps the biography was incorrect and he was angry with her, Karena thought. She silently went by him, surreptitiously taking in the fragrance of his aftershave, the familiarity of it prickling the back of her nose, threatening to start tears. She hurried into the dining room and sat at the head of the table, the two supernatural beings looking at her with concern.

Death and Gabriel said nothing, Karena's emotions washing over them in a tidal wave of angst. They continued to nurse their coffee, noticing her gulp hers down. Karena rose up to refill the mug, nearly bumping into Walter as he brought in plates of food to the table. Karena murmured an apology, almost too soft to hear. Walter said nothing, but continued on his way, setting the table, his mouth downturned, lost in thought.

The four sat down at the table and began to eat, Death discussing in between bites the timing of the next reincarnates.

"Since we brought this one back at Beltaine, expect no more until the dark half of the year, Karena. Balthasar said the energy used needs to be replenished."

"That's odd. Of course, my brother isn't wrong - things were a bit off last night when I reported back to HQ." Gabriel said.

"Oh well, that will give you two time to get used to each other. Talking to each other might be a good start." Gabriel continued, a hint of sarcasm present in his tone.

"I know the 11th is coming up in a few days; do you have any concerns about that, knowing who this man is?" Death asked Karena, their meal nearly finished.

"What will happen to Walter on that day? I know, from what he told me via the talking board, he used to suffer the injuries each anniversary." Karena said softly, a touch of worry in her voice.

"He may have a headache, but that should be it. Hopefully, you and he are on good enough terms by then. He will probably want to stay in bed. If not, MAKE him stay in bed." Death said.

"If it gets bad, call one of us." Gabriel said.

"We will be attending some other duties today, Madame. I am sure you two can figure out how to communicate." Death said, rising from his chair. "Come, Archangel. Ever had a ride in a hearse?"

"Pfft, several times, Grim." Gabriel scoffed. "What, we going to a funeral?"

"Yes." Grim said.

"Why? Reaping someone else there, are you?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes." Grim replied.

"Man of so few words." Gabriel retorted.

"Death comes silently, did you not pay attention?" Grim riposted, a touch of mirth in his voice.

"Yeah, well it can also come screaming." Karena shot back to the two as they left the room.

An awkward silence descended on the room as Karena and Walter stared at each other and said nothing, both too shy to break the ice.

Karena took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Someone had to be first.

"So.....the biography... did you?" She asked hesistantly.

"..Finish it? Yes." Walter's eyes did not meet hers, and his voice was soft, almost a mumble.

"Oh." Karena said, a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Did I... were there any... um..." she stammered.

Walter raised his head and looked at her, his tawny grey eyes steady. "Who told you about...."

"Collette? Siegfried. Your wife and kids? Your sister." Karena replied, sadness at the edge of her voice.

Walter noticed the tone of Karena's voice, but was curious as to the information she had acquired. "Who, Annelise? About the... er... Collette?" His stomach leaped as he faltered in his speech.

Karena put her coffee cup on the table and leaned forward, eager to impart her findings.

"Annelise. Frida told me that Lise never explained why she did what she did. She said Lise hurt your mother, and that she'd never forgive her; that she hadn't seen your children in ages because of the whole fiasco."

Walter's face again took the expression of being weaned on a pickle. Karena definitely knew more than she was letting on, he thought. Why did she leave it out of the biography?Was it Hajo's suggestion?

Karena continued to talk, one of her pet theories being proven by Walter's lack of verbal response and the look on his face.

"From my research, she's done that before. From the look on your face, it seems my assumption that the love between you two was kind of one-sided sticks. That '43 biography referred to it as 'puppy-love' or sandkarteliebe."

Walter's face became even more grumpy as Karena's assumptions hit home. His voice attained a touch of acid when he next spoke.

"Yes. Annelise was strong-willed, and played hard to get as well. She made me go through so many trials, I felt like Siegfried himself!" he groused.

Karena chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know. I admit, I laughed when I realized she 'friendzoned' you, twice."

"I was persistent, though." Walter countered.

"That you were. Your stubborn ass just kept pursuing her. Really, though - quoting Nietzsche? Prime nerd-move, buddy." Karena giggled.

"Hunh? What do you mean?" Walter asked, confused. "Nietzsche was a genius."

"Only if you were reading his original works, and not the ones his sister ghost-wrote during the early years of the beginning of the Nazi era. Anywho, nerdy - bookish. It means you were a bookish young man; one a gal would think was a 'real pal' but in no way were you gonna get laid/get what you wanted from her." Karena said, making her point clear.

"Aha, but the uniform helped. I won, eventually. I always do." Walterl countered, a smug look crossing his face.

Karena leaned in, a look Walter could not interpret flitting across her face. "But did you, really? If you were so content and secure regarding Lise's love for you, why take Collette as your mistress? Why do the same to her what Lise did to you? Kind of a dick move there, Walter."

Walter paused in mid sip of his coffee, Karena's tone of voice hitting the mark. He failed to notice her wipe at her eyes and stand up to collect the dishes.

"Right, I think that's enough. So my biography hit the mark, that's good to know." Karena said as she cleared up the dishes. "Since you cooked, I've got these. They don't do themselves, unfortunately, but the dishwasher helps."

Walter said nothing, but stared out into space, not looking at Karena or anything in particular. Lost in contemplation, he barely heard Karena load the dishwasher and leave the house out the back door,.

Something was off, he thought to himself. Karena seemed to be almost defensive of Collette, like she took what had happened personally.

Walter allowed his mind to drift to the past - the more distant past, he thought ruefully - to a small, pink-bricked Chateau in the middle of Normandy....

Where waking up to the scent of lilies in the air was common practice... a soft body curled up against his.....

.. the soft whisper of silk as she approached him, her hunger evident and needing to be slaked. She was older than him, by a good five years......

But in the throes of passion, she was as vibrant and supple as any twenty-year-old girl in the local brothels... and knew more ways to bring his passion to an explosive end....

She took delight in the small things in life, like when Hauptman Hahn's hens hatched their first brood in the spring....

... or in the summer, when the garden they had planted began to bear fruit......

...but with all things, they must come to an end. The new posting took him away from her, and away from Beaumont-le-Roger. She was near inconsolable...

As his friend and wingman slouched in the seat of the Hotchkiss next to him, a look crossed his face that Walter, had he been allowed to, would have worn as well... He would never see Collette again, but through Heinz Baer, the two would continue to exchange correspondence....

Walter shook his head and sighed, drawing his free hand over his eyes. He needed some fresh air. He left the empty cup in the sink and walked out the back door to the garden, looking for Karena. He wanted to ask her something, and hoped she'd answer him truthfully.

Walter heard Karena talking in the field, her voice higher-pitched than usual.

"Who's a good Pepin? Little bites, okay? Wanna go for a ride? Rides fun!" Karena baby-talked to the coppery chestnut gelding.

She led the horse away to the barn and in a few minutes, re-emerged mounted, the horse quickly going into a working trot.

Walter watched Karena ride patterns back and forth, the horse and her seeming to be one as they cantered, extended and collected in the trot and turned in sharp pirouettes. He was reminded of the horses at the Holstein stud, during a show his father and mother had taken he and his sister to when they were young.

Karena slowed her horse to an extended walk, to cool him off. He was getting up there in age, so she did not want to tax him too much. She could feel Walter watching her, his expression unreadable. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but was occupied with thoughts of her own.

She gave her mount free rein and allowed her mind to wander back, to memories she was now certain were real; the knowledge of that making them all the more bittersweet. He was here, again... who would have thought....

... who would have thought she'd hear his voice again... smell the cologne he used..

Memories came flooding back....the brush of his chest hair against her breasts as they made love....

... the soft, silent, foggy mornings in April as they warmed themselves in front of the fire, nursing the very dear real coffee she had managed to hide from the others.....

...the day he told her of the new posting, and the look on his face as she let the tears run down her face, unbidden....

....the last dance two days before departure, the love she had for him giving the entire night a special feeling....

... the emotional goodbye..

...and the pain and uncertainty she felt after the last planes roared away from the field. She was alone now, without her protector, in a town that hated her for loving him.....

Karena's breath caught in her throat as she remembered the rest of that life, and how it ended. She still had nightmares, and now with Walter here, they were certain to become worse. Why did Death think this was necessary, she thought.

She rode her horse back to the barn and proceeded to dismount and unsaddle him, taking great care in checking him out. Maybe Walter would get the hint and go do something else rather than attempt to talk to her.

Meanwhile, the reaping finished, the funeral done and dusted, Gabriel and Death sat at a local diner to replenish. Not that they really needed to, technically, but Death had a thing for deep fried anything, and Gabriel had a sweet tooth that would make Saxons weep in jealousy. Especially since he never gained a pound from it.

"Nice touch, by the way, of the lover falling dead into the grave. Class act, Grim." Gabriel said around a mouthful of pie.

"I aim to please." Grim chuckled.

The two beings ate for a few minutes in silence, enjoying their meals.

"So. They need to work that out." Gabriel suddenly interjected.

"Who? Work what out?" Grim asked, confused at the change of subject.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Grim, you know. Karena was Collette."

Grim took a bite of his double bacon, double cheese, extra mayo and fried onion cheeseburger and chewed thoughtfully. Hmmm, needs hot sauce, he thought.

Putting the burger down, he reached for the hot sauce and applied it to the mass of cheese on the top of the burger.

"Oh, THAT." Death said finally. "No, they'll dance around it for quite some time yet. The pain is still too fresh for her, and now, him. Maybe our next reincarnates will help with that, for better or for worse."

Gabriel shook his head. "He and his brother should have been first."

"No. This one was first for a reason. Your brother has a perverse streak in him. So unlike an angel." Death muttered.

Gabriel sighed. "I know. So, any lead on this 'evil presence?'"

Death added even more hot sauce to his burger and took another bite. Yes, much better, he mused.

"So far, all I know is that it's in the bayou, somewhere. It's not like there's a boogeyman GPS or something," Death explained.

"Unhunh." Gabriel muttered. "I felt something, too. An uneasy feeling. Thought it was Karena at first, but it was only by the old Osimibbee Dam, as we went by it when we were moving her to the new place."

"By the bridge." Death added.

"Yeah." Gabriel replied.

"I've been watching this town, at night, as well. There's a lot of crime here. Not just what makes the TV, either. I'm talking about crimes like those even dear ol' Dad had that ass Metatron write down. Crimes what got you smote, in the old days." Gabriel added.

Death took another bite of his burger and nodded. "Mm-hmm. This is a busy town for my reapers."

"I mean, I don't mind - more souls means more work, and more towns to visit, more diners to haunt. I just wish they'd let me reap a State Fair. Thirteen days of fair food... I'd be in my own personal heaven." Death muttered.

"Do you ever think why you've got such a taste for this stuff?" Gabriel asked his companion.

"No. What I want to know, though, is why YOU like sugar so much. What, are you angels hummingbirds?" Death shot back.

"Kinda. Takes a lot of energy to move the wings, yanno. I've got six at any given time." Gabriel chuckled.

"So, this crime thing and the evil thing. What if the two are linked, somehow? One's feeding the other or what?" Gabriel said.

"Yes, I'd had that thought myself." Death replied.

"This may draw hunters, too. I know one of my brothers is hanging out with the Winchesters." Gabriel said, a worried look on his face.

"Those Winchesters are always trouble." Death grumbled.

Tell you what, Archangel. You stay here with Miss Ducharme. Observe, and report back to me before you go running to your little flock of angelic hummingbirds. According to Balthasar, and what we already told Karena, the next alignment favorable for the next back of reincarnates is.." Death continued.

"...your birthday. Samhain, All Souls', Hallowmas, Halloween. Convenient." Gabriel finished for Death, sarcasm evident in his voice.

"My assumed birthday. Yes. It is also the beginning of the sugar rush, so what has you in a tizzy? Maybe I can even get Miss Ducharme to make me a cake." Death interjected.

"With extra frosting? Because you know I like frosting." Gabriel said excitedly.

"I'll make sure of it." Death said, a small smile at the corners of his mouth.

"Now, about Miss Ducharme. She needs to work on her abilities. Give her the large book in the trunk of my hearse and help her grow her fame. She will need the help of the townspeople to battle this evil." Death said.

"Wait, you mean, their energy?" Gabriel asked, confused.

"No, their support. Their trust; she needs to have their trust most of all. People not like her are naturally afraid of people like her, and that will make it easier for the evil to corrupt their souls. Which means you lose out, and even Hell loses out. Whatever this is, it is older than even Leviathan." Death explained.

Their plates empty, they gave the waitress more than enough to cover the bill with a generous tip.

"So, work like a cupid then. Like a low-wage cupid. I'm not wearing a loincloth." Gabriel said.

"No loincloth. I promise." Death replied.

"Look, you know her soul as well, or even better, than I do. It's good, it's pure. Your people can't afford to lose this one; so just.. help her out." Death said.

"Bullshit. Her soul is damaged, and you know it. All the shit she's been through, all the pain, all the hate... and of course, the infamous original sin that dear old Dad decided to tack on to these bipeds.' Gabriel snapped, little blue flames bursting forth in his eyes.

Death glowered at the much-younger being. "Well, then, Archangel, fix it. Fix her soul and get her back on track so that we can stop this world of your Father's from being consumed. Not that I care any way or another, but... your kind seem fond of these humans.

Death rose from the table and turned to glower at his companion.

"Remember, the books in the back of my white hearse. Give them to her, put the car in storage. I will return at All Soul's. I... have business in the Middle East to attend to."

Gabriel sighed. "Not that place, again. I never understood Dad's obsession with the area. There's no beaches for miles!"

In the very bayou that Death and Gabriel had sensed the evil, two humans exited a bateau and sloshed onto the swampy island which held the formidable castle-like structure.

"Clahk, Ah'm scared. Why has Boss Racket sent us heah?" the woman asked fearfully.

"I already done tol' you, Penny. He said we gotta help dis guy or -" the man made a neck cutting gesture - "I don' wanna be gator chow. Now c'mon. It's dark, he should be up bah now."

The couple ascended the steep, moss covered stairs to the residence, looking for the front door.