Legal: Louis and Co. are the property of Anne Rice and her Co. No profit being made. If anything, I lose money because I am sitting here and writing when I could go out into the RW shudder and get a real job and a real life. double shudder

Spoilers: IwtV, TVL

Louis looked up from his book to see Lestat dozing on the couch. His blond hair had tumbled off the edge and was hanging like a golden curtain. The emerald eyed one smiled to himself and gently placed a blanket over his beloved. The night was still young, yes. Louis should feed, true. But the ache in his soul needed so badly to be mended.

Lestat shifted in his light, mortal doze. Louis laughed to himself. Lestat had threatened to fall asleep if Louis did not do something other than sit and read all night that evening. He had defiantly sat down on the couch and waited for his fledgling to put down the book and allow himself to be drug al over creation to find something that Lestat had yet to decide on.

Not that night. There were other things that must be tended before Louis could allow himself to be taken on the long shopping trips that seemed to drag for years as Lestat fussed over this and that. Sometimes all he wanted was a CD, other times a rare and very old tapestry, which was always put into the attic once they finally got home.

Louis turned off the horrid lights of electricity and gently walked up the stairs, not wanting to wake Lestat before he had a chance to do what he had meant to do for so long.

Lestat could feel the grass beneath him and the sun above him as Nicki danced and played the violin, making it sing beautiful and intense notes. The echoes of sadness were so evident. Why could he not hear them until after Nicki had gone to Paris? Before he was given the Dark Gift? Before he had immolated himself completely and finally found his peace?

But there was no knowledge of what was to come then. Lestat had Nicki by his side as they walked through the town, as they went through the mountains. Completely mortal and completely unknowing of what lay ahead of them in Paris when the dreams of running finally became a reality.

Lestat thrashed in his sleep as the dream became the same old nightmare. He was in Paris, at the Theatre. Nicki was laughing and telling of how they could parade around and pretend to pretend to be vampires. Eleni and her friends found this as a marvelous idea.

He hated it. Gabrielle hated it. Armand hated it. But no matter. The mad ones loved it.

Then came the feeling that he was know longer there. That he had left his boy and gone some place else, but he still hung in the rafters of the Theatre, watching the performances and watching his once beloved Nicki descend into the downward spiral.

Then was the fire that had finally claimed him. The peace that he so needed in the roaring flames. Nicki stood there, laughing, his brown hair blowing around his head wildly and his dark eyes flashing. Then his face changed.

His eyes lightened as his hair darkened. The curls gave out slightly, becoming more like waves than anything. The brown eyes that had been surrounded by fire became emerald flames all themselves. The laughter stopped.

"You called us twins. Is this what you meant, Lestat? That I shall die like Nicki? That I shall jumped into the fire??" Lestat sat up, drenched with blood sweat. Louis was gone. His book was there, page carefully marked as always.

The house was quiet. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound but his own heart, pounding at an alarming rate. All silent but his heart and something else.

It was a soft hum. Nothing much, really. Almost too soft for mortal ears to hear. Lestat made his heart be quiet. He listened again as the music grew louder in his ears.

The melancholy and the depression were there. Lestat put his hands on the sides of his head. "Nicki, please. I'm sorry. Leave Louis. Leave him alone. He did nothing to you. Please Nicki. Return Louis." The music continued, growing louder and louder.

Lestat wrapped his arms around himself and waited for it to be over. This was not anything that he had heard Nicki play before. It was totally new onto itself. The emotions were almost the same. Slightly more intense and grim, but it had an old flair to it.

Although, none of the structure Mozart had taught Nicki existed in it. It was a random scattering of notes that meant nothing and yet meant everything. Lestat wondered if this was what Nicki had sounder like before he died.

"Louis?? Louis?? Where are you??" The music grew very soft. Lestat had trouble hearing it again.

Louis appeared on the stairs, his hands in his pockets and his hair completely out of the tight ponytail, "Oui?"

"Do you hear that??"

"Hear what, mon cher?" Lestat held up a hand, silencing Louis. The music had stopped. Lestat sighed and put an arm around his child.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked softly. Louis smiled.

"Of course." Lestat turned to get their jackets. Louis pulled his hands from his pockets and wiped them quickly on his jeans.

"Louis? What was on your hands?" Lestat asked, seeing the white streaks.

"Plaster dust. Nothing much. Come on." Louis slipped his hands into a pair of leather gloves and took Lestat's arm.

Lestat closed the door with his free hand. As he did, he cast one more look through the hall, "I know that you're there Nicki. I know that. I can hear you." He locked the door and slipped an arm around Louis' waist, leading him down the sidewalk. Wind blew through Louis' hair, pushing it back from his face. Lestat kissed him suddenly and looked deep into his emerald eyes.

"Louis, I believe that Nicki haunts our house." Louis raised an eyebrow.

"And why is that?" Lestat rolled his blue eyes.

"I heard him playing. His violin."

"And did he play well?" Louis asked quickly.

"Yes, of course he did. It was beautiful." Louis smiled to himself, bowing his head and mouthing the word, "Merci."

~Finis~