DISCLAIMER: RH not mine. That’s it. That’s all I have to say.

Written by: Aryea

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

Sydney stepped out of the cab that had pulled into the University’s parking lot and breathed deep of the crisp, clean air of New England. It was Sydney’s favourite time of the year, when all the trees were alight with multicoloured leaves and the hint of winter tickled the air. As much as she enjoyed the hunt, coming home was always the best part.

Nigel smiled as he watched his friend’s small tradition, while he paid the driver and slung his knapsack with their most recently retrieved artefact over his shoulder. While Sydney didn’t like the cold, she seemed to relish the change of seasons. She had already stepped onto the cobblestone path that wound around the Campus Registration Offices and led to the smaller building behind which held a few of the senior classrooms and the Ancient Studies Office.

“I’m beat,” he admitted, despite the fact that it was only noon local time. “I hope we can drop this off and go home early.”

Sydney grinned as her gaze lingered on a deliciously tall tree vibrantly littered with gold and burgundy leaves. “After the last three days, I think we deserve a hooky day,” she agreed they passed the student courtyard. “I intend to go home and soak for a few hours in my new whirlpool.”

“I just want sleep,” Nigel decided. “I spent enough time wet this trip.”

Their hunt had led them to South Asia during the rainy season. They were deluged with rain, flooding on the streets, and then it got messy. The caves where they had located the relic were full of mud and water, soaking them both as they crawled through to their destination.

They were almost decapitated by a trap that neither of them noticed until it was almost too late, and then a landslide blocked their only way out. Sydney managed to find a small narrow passage that led to a mosquito infested swamp as their only means of escape. Trudging through that, slapping at the nasty, biting critters intent on draining them of their blood, and hoping for no other beasties in the water below them left them both exhausted and in a foul mood by the time they reached the road back.

Nigel paused as he glanced back at the courtyard. “Syd, what’s today?”

She glanced back at him. “Tuesday, I think. Why?”

“Where is everyone?” He made a 360 degree turn. The courtyard was usually lively with people at lunch time because there were no noon classes. “Where are the students?”

Sydney scowled. “Come to think of it, I didn’t notice any cars in the lot except my jeep.”

“I wonder why?”

Sydney moved forward, her pace quickening. “Karen will tell us. I’m sure it’s…” Her words caught in her throat and her eyes widened in shock as they rounded the corner and she came to an abrupt halt.

Nigel avoided walking into her and stepped to the side. “Syd, what…?” He stared in horror at the scene. “Oh my God!”

Sydney blinked. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The building before them was a blackened ruin. Seared and crumbing brick walls, shards of glass covering the sidewalk and the horrid smell of smoke was all that was left of the University Fine Arts and Ancient Studies building.

“What…what…” Nigel couldn’t form a sentence, couldn’t comprehend what might have happened and before he could get his head together Sydney was running inside. “Syd!” He ran after her.

Pristine white walls seemed to cry black tears of agony and despair, covered from top to bottom in ash and smoke stains. The doors of classrooms hung on their hinges. Two of the class rooms where Sydney taught had the windows blown out, the desks burned and ruined and her ivory Greek statue had crumbled under the heat of the flames.

Nigel found her in what was left of the Ancient Studies office and paused outside the doorway. Nothing had survived. Bookcases, furniture, priceless relic that they had not yet found an origin littered the floor in ruin. He stepped over blackened globs of what used to be research books and turned away from the mangled, melted remains of an antique bust of Athena.

Sydney stood in the centre of the room, unable to make herself go further. All her work, all her research and history was gone. She felt Nigel’s hand on her shoulder and willed herself not to melt into it.

“Sydney, Nigel.”

They turned and found the Dean standing in the doorway.

“What the hell happened?” Sydney demanded.

“We don’t know. We think it was Arson, possibly a bomb.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Nigel asked concerned.

“It was Sunday, so there were no classes, but…” He paused. “I’m afraid that there was one person here.”

“Who?”

“Karen had been working late,” he sighed. “She wanted to have the budget ready for Monday.”

“Where is she?” Sydney asked horrified. “Is she okay?”

“She wasn’t in the office, luckily, when the bomb went off, but she…” the Dean frowned and lowered his eyes. “She must have forgotten something. She must have headed back…”

“For God sake tell us!” Nigel cried, barely resisting the urge to grab the man and shake him.

“They think she was blown through one of the windows when it went off. They found her in the courtyard.”

“Sweet Christ!” Nigel reached for the wall to steady himself as he felt a wave of nausea hit him. Not Karen, not sweet Karen.

“She’s over at Memorial Hospital,” the Dean continued, grievously. “She’s in a coma, Sydney.”

Sydney pushed him out of the way, leapt over the rubble in the doorway and stormed down the hall. Nigel quickly caught up with her, as did the Dean.

“Sydney, I’m sorry about the office, I know…”

She stopped and spun around. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about that,” she hissed, at least not anymore. Karen was hurt that was all she cared about. One of hers had been hurt.

“Sydney, there’s more,” he insisted as they stepped outside and Sydney headed to her vehicle.

“Make it quick, we have to get to the hospital.”

“It was an attack against you, Sydney.”

Nigel stopped and turned back to the older man. “What do you mean an attack on Sydney?”

“They bombed her office as a warning and…and they got to your house as well.”

Sydney paled. “My…my house?”

He nodded, grimly. “I’m truly sorry. The police are doing everything they can to find…”

His words faded out as Sydney immediately started to mourn her possessions. Her photographs and gifts from friends. Her grandmother’s trunk. Her mother’s picture, the only one she had. Her Doctorate, her awards her…She gritted her teeth and her fingers tightened around her keys, the sharp metal digging in and piercing her delicate flesh.

“Syd?” Nigel asked, horrified for her and unsure how to help.

“Come on,” she suddenly said and started walking again. “We have to go see Karen.”

Nigel followed and was not surprised when she tossed him the keys. Her hands were shaking as she climbed into the passenger seat.

They arrived at the hospital and were met with the doctor that had been assigned to Karen. He informed them that she’d had multiple cuts to her face, arms and legs from the flying glass and that she suffered from a serious concussion. They had treated her abrasions, but at this time, could only wait and hope for her to wake up.

Karen’s younger brother Adam walked up as they asked the doctor if they could see her. The doctor insisted family only.

“It’s okay, Doc,” Adam assured, seemingly more mature than his tender age of sixteen. “They’re like family to my sister.”

The doctor nodded and excused himself as a page came over the intercom for him.

“I’m glad you guys are here,” he said as he received a hug from Sydney and a pat on the back from Nigel. “She’d want you guys here.”

“How are you doing, Adam?” Sydney asked, concerned.

“Hanging in there,” he shrugged and suddenly looked much younger. “It’s weird seeing her…in there. She…she always takes care of me…” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to take care…I don’t know what to do.”

Sydney pulled him in for another hug. “Just be here for her. That’s all she needs.”

He nodded and sniffed a little. “She won’t wake up. Why won’t she wake up?”

“She will when she’s ready to, mate,” Nigel offered gently. “The body shuts down sometimes when it needs to heal. As long as she’s asleep, she’s making herself better. She’ll be right as rain before you know it.”

Adam nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” He turned. “Come on, I’ll take you too her.”

They followed him down the hall to the private room where Karen lay hooked up to several different machines, her hands, arms and part of her face bandaged. “She looks really bad,” Adam warned. “But it’s just the cuts from the window and the doc’s say she’ll be okay, once…once she wakes up.” He shifted anxiously as he set the large stuffed bear he had run to the gift shop to purchase on the end of her bed. “The university’s paying for the room and…and they sent most of these flowers and things.”

Sydney smiled at him and walked over to the bed to stare down at the beautiful young woman that had become her very close friend. She looked peaceful as she slept and that helped. If she was sleeping, perhaps she didn’t feel any pain.

“The Doc says we should talk to her that she can, like, hear us and might just wake up if she wants to.”

Sydney nodded and turned back to Karen. “Hey you,” she greeted, softly. “Laying down on the job? That’s not like you at all.” She paused as tears suddenly burned her eyes. This was her fault. The bomb had been planted by one of her enemies and because Karen worked for her, she was hurt. “I’m sorry, Karen,” she whispered and felt that a strong hand on her shoulder in a familiar show of support.

“Don’t, Syd,” he cautioned, knowing she was blaming herself for this.

She straightened and reached back to capture his hand. “I should have been here. It was me they were after. I…”

Nigel’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “You were where you were supposed to be. You can’t predict the future, neither of us can.”

“If I only…”

“Syd, no.”

She turned to stare into his eyes and saw the truth there, saw that he felt exactly the same.

“Evil men did this to her, heartless and cruel bastards that were out for revenge, bent on their madness. We can’t be everywhere and you can’t protect everyone.”

The wonderful thing about Nigel was that he so often mirrored her emotions and he was always honest. He held nothing back from her and always gave it to her straight, even when it was hard for her to hear it.

“I want them dead. I want them to pay for this.”

“They will, Syd.” His eyes held a promise that would help her keep her vow and her expression softened. “We have to do what’s best for Karen right now.”

She nodded. “I know.” She turned to Adam. “Who are you staying with, Adam?”

“My Aunt, she…she’s nice and she lives close to the hospital so I can walk over and see Karen.”

Sydney cast another look at Karen. “You’ll let us know if anything changes?” she asked.

“I will.”

Sydney glanced at Nigel, saw his gaze locked on Karen and decided to give him a moment alone. She moved over and tossed an arm around the youth’s shoulders. “Come on. Show me where the cafeteria is in here, I need coffee.” She led him out and chanced a look back, mildly startled when she saw Nigel gently take Karen’s hand in both of his, then lower his head. Was he praying for her? She never knew Nigel to be very religious.

“Syd?” Adam asked when he noticed that she was still standing in the doorway of the room.

She smiled and left Nigel to do what he had to do. “Coming.”

Sydney liked to think she was prepared for anything and was not easily shocked, but the sight of her ruined and blackened townhouse was a sight that she would never forget. The fire hadn’t seemed to reach the surrounding houses, luckily, but hers was beyond repair. What the fire hadn’t destroyed the water hoses did. There were no windows, her wind chimes at the front had melted and curled into each other, her front porch was a mismatch selection of burned firewood and what was left of her hanging swing.

Nigel switched off the engine and stepped out with her. “Oh, Syd,” he offered sympathetically.

There was an officer stationed at the steps and he waved them off. “Sorry, you can’t go in there, it’s under a police investigation.”

Sydney noticed the yellow security tape coiled around her house, or what was left of her house. “I live here,” she said and found it odd that her voice sounded so far away.

“Dr. Fox?” The officer offered her a sympathetic look. “I’m Officer Benton. Sorry you had to come back to this.”

“What happened?” Nigel asked.

“It was Arson. Not a bomb, like at your office, luckily or the whole neighbourhood might have gone up, but it was most definitely deliberately set.” He glanced up. “Someone called it in pretty early and the trucks managed to contain it from spreading but it burned hot. The inside is pretty much gutted.”

“I want to go in,” Sydney insisted and started towards the steps.

Officer Benton caught her arm. “I wouldn’t recommend it, professor. Parts of the house are still unstable and it is still under investigation. You don’t want to contaminate the scene.”

“Contaminate?” Sydney stared at him, her fury rising. “There’s nothing left to contaminate!” She pushed past him and carefully climbed the stairs, avoiding the missing pieces of her porch and slipping through her front door, or what was left of it.

She stopped in the hallway and gaped at the carnage. He hadn’t been kidding. Her stairs seemed to be intact, but the carpet, rugs and walls were burned beyond repair. Part of the second floor had collapsed, blocking the way to her kitchen and allowing her a view of what was left of her four poster bed. Her curtains, furniture, pictures, wall hangings, ceremonial treasures, books and papers were all ruined.

She turned and glanced into her living room, where the fire and water had both blackened and soaked through her leather sofa and chairs. Her plants were all dead, burned to a crisp. Her fish tank! She moved forward into the room and stared in dismay at the broken glass and dead fish on her floor.

She spun around and headed for the stairs, hugging the wall as her railing was gone. The hall was intact and she walked through, ignoring the route to what was left of her bedroom, she turned the opposite way into her small office. There, her grandmother’s wardrobe lay across the floor, no longer standing and no longer pristine.

With deliberate care she managed to push the wardrobe onto its side and the doors flew open. Isabelle’s gowns, her original recordings, her letters, everything was destroyed. Her mother’s wedding gown had also been inside, all that was left was the hanger and a few beads that had melted into a strip of silk that hadn’t burned away.

Sydney sat on the floor and pulled out one of the half melted pieces of black vinyl and stared at it miserably. Now she had nothing of her mother or her grandmother. She felt someone touch and squeeze her shoulder and turned, expecting to find Nigel, but she was alone. She blinked away the sudden rush of tears and held the record to her chest. Slowly, she started to rock. She’d worked so hard to make a home here, to build memories and enjoy her life so that she would never have regrets. Now it was all gone and she was homeless.

“Syd?” Nigel called from the bottom of the stairs. He’d let her go inside alone, knowing she needed the time alone to deal with her grief, but after awhile he started to get worried she’d gotten into trouble so he came after her. “Syd, are you okay?”

Sydney stood and moved back towards the stairs. “I’m here.” She didn’t know if she was okay or not.

He watched her descend the stairs and his gaze lingered on the item in her hand. “Oh, Syd.” His eyes lifted to hers as she stopped at the bottom. “Isabelle’s recordings?”

“Gone. Her clothes, her papers, all my clothes, everything is gone.”

Nigel stared at her, aching against the grief in her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry, Sydney.”

She shook her head, shook it off. “It’s just stuff,” she said, despite the gut wrenching loss she felt. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.”

She moved past him and stepped outside, inhaling deeply to replace the horrible scent of smoke and mildew from inside.

“Are you all right, Professor?” Benton inquired kindly.

“I’m fine.” She and Nigel dipped under the security tape and moved back to her car, just as someone called Sydney’s name from across the street. She turned and saw her elderly neighbour, Mrs. Wittman hurrying towards her, still in her robe and slippers.

She threw her arms around Sydney in a hearty hug. “You poor thing. Are you okay? Do you need anything? This is just dreadful!”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Wittman, thanks.”

“Good, good. I’m so glad you weren’t in there, dear. It would have been horrible if you were in there.” She brightened. “Oh, but I have something for you.”

“Mrs. Whitman, I don’t need any…”

“You just wait there.” The older woman hurried back to her house and stepped inside. A minute later she opened the door and a black cat leapt from the house and darted across the street.

Sydney dropped to her knees and scooped up her pet. “Maftet!” She hugged the animal hard, so relieved that she was okay that she was again close to crying.

“Found her wandering around in the street, dear,” Mrs Wittman called and then waved. “You come see me if you need anything, okay?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Whittman!”

Nigel smiled at Sydney and stroked the animal’s ears, causing the contented cat to purr even louder. “Come on, Syd.”

She turned to him. “Come on where?” She again realized that she had no where to go.

“Home, with me.” He opened the passenger side door for her. “We’ll pick up some food and litter for that one on the way.”

“Nigel, just drop me at a hotel…”

“They won’t let you in with the cat, Syd,” he said as he slid behind the wheel. “And I’m not leaving you on your own.”

She stared at him as she stroked her cat. “It will be a tight fit,” she murmured, grateful for the offer, but knowing Nigel’s apartment was very small.

“It always is, Syd,” he replied as he switched on the engine and drove away.