Come What May
The Dark is Rising Fanfiction
Warning: Yaoi (Bran/Will) (Rider/Will)
Author's Note: Sorry for the blatant Earthian quote I stuck in here. I just //had// to use it. As for the bar scene, I'm sorry if it seemed too short, but somehow I couldn't get myself to write about it.

"Hell-low handsome." The blonde licked her lips invitingly as she danced almost intimately by Daniel's side. "You look lonely tonight."
"Lonely for you, you mean?" The white-haired man said seductively, then casually danced away from her. "Sorry darling, I bat for the other team."
The girl pouted but immediately moved on to another dancer.
Golden eyes glanced around the room and immediately found the lean form of Michael leaning against the wall. And another heavily-muscled man with his arms above Michael's shoulders, pinning the bodyguard down as the man moved too close for comfort. Daniel's mouth instantly thinned in a furious line and stalked towards them, pushing through the mass of writhing bodies, barely managing to pick up the sound of their conversation through the pulsing beat of the music.
"…so you won't tell me your name? Heh, so you're a silent, standoffish type aren't you?" The big man smiled crookedly, and Michael fought to keep himself calm when a breath stinking of beer blasted his face.
Lifting his eyes, he glared coldly at his unwanted companion, well aware that his gaze made most people nervous enough for their life that they would leave him alone. Unfortunately, the man was either too drunk or stupid to realize the danger he was in.
"You're pretty." The drunken man slurred, daring to touch the silky locks of hair with a coarse hand. Suddenly, the man grunted as a thought hit him and leaned close to Michael's ear. Michael turned his head away in disgust, his hair slipping through the man's hand like water as he did so.
"Hey…flowers are only so beautiful so that they'll be pollinated." The brute's voice said roughly in a crudely suggestive tone. Michael fixed his eyes on the man's steadily approaching hand, body tense as he dared that hand to move even an inch closer.
"Excuse me." The loud, sarcastic voice caused the muscular man to turn, unwittingly saving his hand from being crushed to pulp. Daniel stood, golden eyes dark with anger, neatly combed white hair framing and highlighting the disdain in his aristocratic features. "He's mine."
"Really?" The drunk scowled. "Well, I'm here, and you're there, so I get first taste, buddy."
"Let's see you try." The young heir's mouth curled in an unpleasant smile. "Michael, feel free to give him our opinion."
"Huh?" The drunk halfway turned towards Michael just as the bodyguard drove a vicious fist into the man's guts. The man staggered and fell, eyes bulging and gasping for breath like a landed fish. Michael wobbled, a flash of something flickering across his features momentarily.
"Are you alright?" Bran asked with a concerned look on his face, and then covered it up with a elegant sneer. "That beast didn't touch you, did he?"
Michael shook his head, but his face looked abnormally pale, silver eyes half closed as if in pain.
"I don't like this place." Daniel decided abruptly. "Come, Michael. Let's go home."
Michael gave a small nod and slowly walked towards the exit. As Daniel moved towards his bodyguard, a low roar behind him alerted him to danger. Instinctively, he quickly ducked to the side, narrowly missing being hit by a massive arm. Blood pounding with adrenaline, Daniel rolled to his feet and eyed his opponent.
"You again." He was furious. "What do you want now?"
"Your life…and him." The drunken brute grinned insanely, with a primal look in his eyes. Bran grimly braced himself as the man took a step forward, every nerve in his body screaming at him to run. He knew without doubt that he couldn't take on the man himself without blowing his cover.
There was the click of a gun safety going off, and Daniel's eyes widened momentarily as Michael firmly stepped in front of him, face dark and aiming a gun at the drunk's head. The muscular man froze as he finally registered the warning in the silver eyes. Michael said nothing, but slowly lowered the gun until it aimed not at the head, but directly below the navel.
The drunk glowered, caught between blinding rage and fear. With a final half-animal snarl of rage, the drunken man slowly and reluctantly backed away from the pair. Michael kept his gun steadily pointed at the man the entire time, with eyes that promised no regrets if forced to fire.
"Let's go." Michael's voice was soft, but it carried in the now-silent club. Daniel dazedly took the offered hand and the two warily walked out the exit, aware that every eye in the club was upon them. Thankfully, the taxi was where they left it, and the two climbed in, silent during the trip back to the mansion.

"Are you alright?" Bran finally ventured, handing Will a glass of cold water.
"Yeah." Will replied wearily, gratefully gulping down the cool glass of liquid. "And you?"
"I'm fine. Will, look at me." Bran stared at his partner until the brown-haired man finally looked up. "Something is wrong. Don't hide it from me. Please."
"…"
"Will." Bran was grave. "we can't afford keep secrets from each other-"
"I'm tired, Bran." The brown-haired man said suddenly, and stood up. "Good night."
Bran watched his companion leave with a troubled look in his golden eyes. "Good night." He echoed, and slowly turned off the lights in the room as he went to sleep off the excitement of the night.
Will listened to the soft footsteps as Bran entered the room next door. A small, sad smile crossed his face as he collapsed bonelessly on his bed.
"If only you knew the size of the secrets I keep from you Bran…" Images flashed through his mind, of Merriman, the Signs, King Arthur, and…the Dark.
He had felt it in the man like a hidden cancer, hideous and festering in the darkest corners of the man's soul. He had sensed its awareness of him at the same instant he became aware of it.
"Watcher. That's what you called me." Will said softly, gazing at his hands, still feeling the taint on them. "And so I watched. And saw."
"And the Dark rises again."

A dark figure stood silently by Bran's bed, gazing down at the restlessly sleeping white-haired heir to Pendragon's legacy. A tiny furrow marred Bran's smooth white forehead as the young man gave a tiny noise of unrest. Outside, an owl gave a mournful hoot.
"Sleep." Will said softly, watching Bran's face immediately relax and his body still. "You will sleep." The ancient power within him flowed from his fingers and wrapped around Bran in a soothing , nebulous cloud.
Quietly, he closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. It ought to have come not as such a surprise that the Dark was still there…but not this //soon//, Will thought despairingly. Not while Bran was still alive. He knew he couldn't fight the Dark and protect the now-ignorant Pendragon heir at the same time, and now he was torn between his duty and his heart.
"Everything that matters is outside Time." The words he had spoken so long ago now came back to him. Will closed his eyes in turmoil and bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The oddly pure and sweet taste of his blood reminded him of his unique heritage, forcefully reprimanded him for daring to believe he was human.
"I'm sorry, Bran. Forgive me."
Slowly, he walked away, not allowing himself to look back as he faded into the shadows.