PHOENIX
Michael Biehn Archive


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The characters belong to various production/film/TV companies. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
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Story Notes:
Chris must confront his demons at the hands of a madman. No place is safe from the clutches of Rafe
Author's Chapter Notes:
No good deed goes unpunished
Orin left Chris alone to absorb the news of his 'old friend'. He had spent the last few weeks calling the families of the identified faces from the photo albums found in Liz' apartment. Out of the hundreds of photos nearly a third of them had been identified from the missing persons data base in D.C. He alone was the one who called the families. Despite the irrationality of it all, he felt the responsibility for the deaths. If only he had known what his 'friend' was capable of.

It was nearly two a.m., and he was alone in the offices. He saw her through the glass. The scars were barely visible. Liz had been true to her word. She may have wanted to hurt Mary, but the damage wasn't permanent. He opened the door and smiled weakly.

“You look like hell. Have you seen anyone to talk this out with? You can't take the burden of what he did alone. You aren't responsible for his actions. Let someone help you. I have some free time -” she said as she touched his arm. He sat down and rubbed at his eyes. She sat down next to him and took a closer look.

“Mary I have to do this alone. I know what you're saying but if only -- “ Chris started to say but was interrupted by her hand to his lips.

“Just how long do you think you can go on like this? Had this happened to any of your team, you would insist on them seeking help. How many ways do any of us have to say it? You weren't responsible for what that bastard did! Now that we know he has killed at least one more, we need to find him and put him behind bars or six feet under” she replied as he put an arm around her.

“Mary, I should have seen it.” he said in resignation.

“You've known him since you were kids. Profiles say that serial killers start out by killing small animals. Did you notice any of that behavior all those years ago? Were you the profiler that you are now, then?” she asked as she looked into his tired eyes. “Lay the burden down. The man responsible is the man who did the deeds, not you. How do I make you see that? You would not accept this kind of behavior from anyone on your team. Why must you give yourself higher standards?” she added.

“I saw how he killed during the war. I thought it was a fluke. I tried to stop it then and felt responsible because he did it under the guise of saving my life. If only I had known” he added tiredly.

“But that's just it. You didn't know. Even Vin didn't sense it and Rafe trained him. Think of how long he's been doing this. He started before the war, and the war gave him carte blanche to continue. Come on Chris, use that brain of yours and think! I'm surprised that Orin hasn't forced you to take some time off. Maybe he feels a sense of guilt for the whole situation and thinks that the best thing for you is work, but the exhaustion in your eyes and the fact that you are still here tells me what I need to know. I'm taking you home for at least a day” she said as she took his hand and he let her walk him out of his office. He turned out the light and they walked in silence, unaware of the man in the shadows.

He stood in the darkness and smiled. He could kill two birds with one stone. He could not believe his luck. What better revenge than to hurt his mind as well as his spirit by hurting another person he cared for. The smile broadened as he let himself out through the same door they used moments before.


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Mary thought the change of scenery would do Chris a world of good. Any other day she would have taken him to Coulson Park, but those memories were destroyed by the man she was trying to help Chris forget. She found herself driving to a safe house that they used to hide important clients. She knew from Orin that it wasn't in use. Once Chris started to see the direction they were headed in, he laughed.

“Just who are you protecting me from?” he said as they pulled into the drive. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. He got out of the car and stumbled as they climbed up the stairs. She caught him and felt his weight in her arms. She smiled as he leaned into her and she managed to get the key in the lock. They stumbled and fell through the door. He lay on top of her and realized he had knocked the wind out of her.

“I always wanted to take your breath away, but this isn't what I had in mind” he said with a tired laugh.

“Chris I've wanted to take you to bed for some time, but for something other than sleep” she responded with a similar laugh once she caught her breath.

“I'm sor - “ he was about to say but was silenced with her fingers once more more on his lips. Despite the exhaustion, he found himself wanting her as he had in the wee hours of the morning. Lately he had dreamed of her more than of his wife. Was this a sign of letting go and moving on?, he thought as she held him. He returned the smile ten fold and felt the need for sleep kick in.

They slowly got up and she led him to the bedroom. She pulled the sheets down, sat him on the bed and took off his boots. As she loosened his shirt, she felt him lift her chin as she undid his belt. He kissed her. Her lips were warm and yielding. She pulled away, pushed him down, and laid the blanket over him. She saw his eyelids close over his green eyes. She kissed him lightly on the lips. She quietly shut the door and proceeded to get the groceries out of the car. She put them away in the small kitchen. She made herself some coffee and went back to the bedroom. He had rid himself of his clothing, and was sleeping peacefully with the covers in a slight disarray. He reminded her of Billy as a child. She briefly kissed him and let him rest.

Chris found himself surrounded by nude women. Their bodies were decomposing and hollow eyes stared into the core of his soul. One by one they pointed their fingers at him and asked 'why' in silent voices. He tried to turn away, he tried to close his eyes, but everywhere he went the eyes followed him. Their faces slowly changed while he watched in abject horror. He startled awake. The clock's hands had barely moved from when Mary had placed him in the bed. He closed his eyes once more and tried to shut his mind down. Once again exhaustion took over and he slept.

She went to check on him some time later. She had let him sleep for nearly twelve hours and needed to see if he needed anything. She could see the sheets rumpled and how he had tossed and turned while she had worked on her latest story for the paper. She leaned over and covered him once more. She decided to lay next to him. She settled on the top of the bed to close her eyes for just a moment...

When she woke, she found herself wrapped in his arms with his head on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair as he nestled against her and subconsciously reached for her. He whispered a name and she found herself weeping as he continued to sleep.

Chris woke feeling the warmth of Mary beside him. He looked into her tear stained face and wondered what had brought on the grief. He smelled the coffee and got up from the bed. He opted for the shower and let the hot water pour down on his aching muscles. He was exhausted and, despite the sleep, felt like he had before Mary had absconded with him. He rubbed his scalp with a towel and walked back into the bedroom where she lay. He sensed something was wrong but couldn't put his finger on it. Something or someone was putting his hair on end and that annoyed the hell out of him. He looked out the window and desperately wanted a drink.

He went to the kitchen and searched for a bottle. There it was. It had already been opened and he got a glass from the cupboard. He poured a generous amount and took a sip. The taste was off. It hit his blood stream as one word came to his psyche: Rafe.


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Rafe looked through the car window at the house before him and was amazed at the lack of security measures. It had been over a month since he had escaped from the 'land of Larabee'. He laughed at the thought of it. Be it complacency, exhaustion, or simple oversight, after a certain length of time the hoopla died down and he was once again able to do as he pleased.

It was a matter of priorities. The only people who gave a damn about missing people were the ones who missed them. On any given day the numbers increased and new people would come to the forefront. The first 48 hours were crucial, but after that the trail went cold. It was then that Rafe knew he could play with his prey.

His father had taught him the fine art of waiting. He laughed again knowing full well that patience was one of the traits lacking in his good 'friend' Chris Larabee. A man now ready for the kill.

He watched the activity from a distance. Once the lights were out and the shadows ceased moving in the rooms, he could take his time. He waited a while longer just to make sure. No movement could be seen from his vantage point.

Not a soul disturbed him as he went to the back steps of the safe house. He checked for any security devices and found none. He smiled as he picked the lock. A safe house that wasn't even safe from a simple burglar. Who would have known? He found the bottle of whiskey and poured an ample amount into a glass. He drank it slowly. Mary knew Chris' preferred brand and must've bought it before taking him out of his office. He rubbed a capsule of the sedative inside the rinsed glass he had just used. As the water evaporated, so did the telltale signs of the drug on the inside of the glass. He needed to make sure that the whiskey held no trace of the drug that would enter Chris' bloodstream. Now all he need do was sit and wait. Patience was his strong suit. He sat in the shadows. It was the thrill of the kill that brought him the most satisfaction.

It was a win win situation. If Chris would find him, he knew he'd be unarmed in the safe house. If Chris woke, and didn't find him, he would go for the whiskey. If Mary woke first, all the more reason to have her with him. He thought of the possible scenarios and smiled at the expression Chris would have as he took his time with Mary. Chris would be helpless to stop it, and the idea gave him a perverse sense of power.

He watched Chris as he went for the bottle. Poor man always did have a weakness for it. He used it to escape the grief and to accept the nightmares. Rafe studied his prey and knew their weaknesses. Chris would never know what hit him and that was the sweetest thing of all. When he least expected it, Chris would wake once more to the face of what he thought was pure evil. He could only imagine what it must be like. If the situation were reversed, he was sure that he would have killed himself by now or gone insane. What does one do when their faith in man is shattered. Rafe had managed to convince him that they were still friends despite the slip during the war. That is until he learned of the true demise of his wife and son.

Chris would be helpless to stop it, and that pleased him all the more. Chris woke and was oblivious to the his presence as he went to the cupboard for a glass. He poured and ample amount and leaned against the counter as the fiery liquid hit his bloodstream. Rafe watched as the man lost consciousness. He smiled as the lifeless body slid to the floor. He took the duct tape from his bag and proceeded to bind his 'little brother'. He thought back to the time of his first murder.

He could no longer remember the face of the first woman he killed. It had been when he was in his teens. She had rejected his advances and he never took no for an answer. Another trait he had learned from his father who had bought him his first woman when he was twelve. The young woman was still new to the trade and once his father had 'broken' her in, insisted that it was his turn. The man had the audacity to sit and watch while relieving himself once more as he told his son how to go about taking a woman. That was the only time the man watched. After that Rafe was on his own.

Rafe found pleasure in hurting women. His pleasure intensified with the killing of them. It must have been the year following his initiation into manhood that Rafe had killed her. That first kill led to others until he lost track of the count. He was thorough and methodical and precise. He started taking photos and locks of hair. He then took the photos after. He would wait a few days and return to the scene of the crime just to be sure that body was still there. He varied his routine. Sometimes he would kill where he left the body and other times he would take his time and dump the body miles from where he killed them.

The ones he would never forget were Sarah and Adam Larabee.

He had met Ella Gaines at a bar outside of Billings and figured she would be his next victim. It was when he had her in his bed that he realized she was into pain as much if not more than he was. When she propositioned him to murder Larabee's wife and son, he couldn't believe his good fortune. He was actually getting paid for something he had planned on doing!

The pleasure was doubled by the fact that Chris was so stricken with grief that he never saw the signs telling him who the real culprit was. Ella owned up to the fact that she hired someone to murder them, but had kept her mouth shut. Considering that the woman was still at large, it was an easy thing to do.

He now looked at the drugged man before him that had been his 'friend' all these years until one slip up.

The slip was a woman named Clarissa, and a fingerprint left at the scene of the crime that led them to connecting him to one murder. One stinking print that tied him to a missing person.

By rights he was glad that if anyone could tie him to all the murders it would be led by none other than Chris Larabee. His opponent was worthy of his talent.

He stared at the man who would be his demise unless he found a way out. He saw a man who had no idea that he was capable of killing so many. The way he killed was diabolical and methodical. The was no rhyme or reason. That's why he got away with it for so long. He enjoyed the thrill of the kill and the subterfuge that went along with it.

He smiled as no one stirred and finally got up and went to his prey. Tempted as he was to waken him, patience took hold. He heard Mary stirring in the other room and waited till she opened the door.

She stood before him and saw the eyes of a stranger. She looked into the eyes of what she knew to be almost pure evil. Then she saw Chris who was bound and unconscious. She let out a silent scream. Chris woke.


to be continued