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Ch25. Finale

**

Rick waited in the wings. This would be it, the final performance. Both he and Dal had decided. Even though the war raged on, there was no use for them to fight. Both of them were beyond the young fighting age of the soldiers that rallied on the fronts. One fought for blood purity, the other for freedom. A lot of the people were drawing parallels to the old Nazi fight in the 20thcentury. The irony was not lost on Rick. Learn from your history or you are doomed to repeat it.

Dal stood next to the podium. He mounted the podium and nodded to the crowd as he did so, still shirtless, and still imposing. He bowed deeply. He whisked the cover off of the huge frame next to him. The picture of his brother from his graduation gleamed in the light. The light claw marks over Ken Sr's muzzle stood starkly in contrast, as testament to the Stallion's silent fight for his brother.

Ken Jr stood next to Rick and gripped his hand. He had just gotten out of basic, and was about to enter officer's school. Dalten had been so proud of his son. He had whistled and cheered the most when Ken Wells had graduated top of his class in HS, and when he joined OCS, Dalten couldn't have been more proud. He'd be no gunner's mate. He'd be an Ensign! An officer!

Rick smiled up at the uniformed son he and Dal shared. The music began, memories filled Rick's brain.

**

Chas cried openly. He knew he had little time left, maybe only ten or fifteen years. Times like these, he didn't want to hold back any more. He gripped Williams' hand tightly, his own paw and claws almost, but not really, drawing blood. He looked over at the bovine who looked at him with a profound look of love. Rick had been right all those years ago. Just be there for each other. Chas leaned his head on the thick bovine shoulder and sighed.

**

The concert ended. Dal turned, made his traditional gesture of his hand over his mark and bowed to the audience. "For you.....Rick....Ken.....My Brother....." he intoned solemnly. There was thunderous applause. He walked off stage.

**

A teary eyed Chas had met the two, a sight that had stunned Dal. Chas demanded an evening alone with Ken Jr and Dal and Rick to talk about the future. Dal fretted confusedly. This was unlike his friend. He begged off begging tiredness. He assured the feline they'd meet tomorrow night.

"I'll hold you to that!" Chas had slapped his shoulder weakly.

**

As they walked back to the apartment from the train station the next night Dal needed to think.

"Look Rick, take Ken home, I'm going to run to get some groceries."

Rick gave him a lopsided grin with his graying muzzle. "Sure."

Ken had given his father a jaundiced eye at that point but made no protest. Rick sighed and hugged Dal before the equine left, and began to engage their son in conversation on the way home.

**

Dal walked quickly down the street, the cool air drying the sweat in his mane. He shook it vigorously as he rounded a corner.

"Two more blocks to go. God Chas is getting up there. What happened? A week ago I was twenty five and he was sixty, now...." Dal shook his head breaking into a trot to try to calm himself down. He never really felt the baseball bat to the back of his head...

**

Rick slumped forward as he walked. Ken gripped his shoulders. "Dad! Dad!" He cried. Rick tried to clear his vision. Something was terribly wrong. Rick staggered to his feet. No....Dal!

"Call the police.....it's your father....somewhere near Market and First....and Ken....hurry!"

Ken bolted down the street yanking his phone out. Rick shook his head and began to run after him.

**

Dal laid semi conscious in a dark building as the canine pack of twenty or more surrounded him. He was tied hand to hoof. He had no alternative. He laid in a fetal position. Soon one of the larger canines, some type of Great Dane, hauled him aloft and shoved him against a sawhorse leaving Dal in a very precarious situation. Someone ripped his pants off....he felt a heavy finger prod him brutally. He cried out...

**

Rick collapsed. Something was terribly wrong. In all their times before, Rick had been able to call to Dal, but this time something was in the way. He hurried, huffing after his son and the quickly converging police cruisers as his vision and bond went cloudy.

**

Dal screamed as the fourth took him roughly, the huge knot sliding home. At this point there was no tie, no gentleness. Knives stabbed him brutally every now and then. Someone kicked his head. But in his mind there was only the rough fucking from one anonymous person to another. He cried out, and finally something snapped.

Pure rage and anger built in him. He growled deep in his chest, unthinking, uncaring, Dal pulled energies from everywhere and everyone around him. He found his target directly behind him.

**

Suddenly there was a flare of light along Rick's bond with Dal. It burned deeply and sapped all of his energy. Along all of it he felt people dying. The attackers were caught in flames. They burned as Dal willed.

Rick turned the corner, barely able to register he was at the door. He looked in. Bright flames marked bodies along the floor. Ken stood, his equine mouth agape, his huge hands balled into angry fists.

He whined and whimpered and he searched and found Dal. Dal was bleeding from a dozen wounds. Rick untied the huge equine and rolled him to the floor, the sight of his abused mate caused Rick to pause. Dal had been beaten, stabbed, kicked, and raped.

Rick steeled himself, ready to give his all, and clutched at Dal's mark.

For a brief second, the mark flared green, Rick went weak as he poured all of his energy into Dal. He even shamelessly tapped into their son. All of Dal's wounds healed. His vision went dark for one second then cleared. He looked down.

Dal took a shuddering breath. The the huge equine sat bolt upright and stared into space. He screamed a huge equine scream once, then his eyes closed and he fell back.

"Dal?" Rick shook the equine shoulder roughly. The thick scent of burning fur met his muzzle. Dal breathed gently in and out.

A hand grasped Rick's shoulder.

"Dal!?" Rick shook Dal's shoulder harder.

Tears began to pour down Rick's face.

"Dad....." Ken whispered into his ear. Rick couldn't tear his eyes away from Dal's still form.

**

Months passed. Rick never missed a day with Dal. He read to him, told him stories of their son's exploits in OCS, and even leaned in and caressed the sleeping form. Dalten slept, deeply. Nothing could wake him. Brain scans showed he was only asleep. Still "there" but not waking.

**

Dal curled up every night against Dal. Dal needed no food, no changing, no attendance except for bathing. Every night though Rick curled up, and placed his muzzle on Dals chest. Each and every night, the huge equine arm would reach up and lightly scratch his neck as he would drift to sleep.

**

Epilogue

Dr. Richard Wells sighed. He stared at the group of students solemnly. "Well, that would be it then. If you've learned something, then I've been successful. Never forget your history younglings, it can be your undoing if you don't!"

He intoned deeply. The class held it's breath. Rick sighed deeply at his students. "Dismissed" he sighed. The class surged out of the room. If only they would listen!

It had only been twenty years since the peace had broken out. He was tired. Dead tired. He knew his time was coming to and end. He was well over a hundred now. In reality he had stopped counting.

He was old. Well beyond the pale for any fur really. He had outlived his son, his grandson, and his great grandson was nearing forty, a professor of music in his own right. He just wished the end would come.

Rick walked painfully to the door and turned off the light. The room in the university grew strangely quiet. He toddled down the hall.

Life is never fair Rick. You've had a good long run. It'll be nice to rest and not worry about anything anymore.

Rick made it to his office, opening the door with a sigh. He sat down. Dr' Carson's old office. He mused for a bit on that. The Older Hound hand taught him all he knew about composition and encouraged him to meet Dal. In reality it was here where everything had started.

The knock came sharply three times.

"Enter?" He queried. His great grandson came in. Dalten Wells Jr. He sighed. Dalten Wells looked just like his Dal. Tall, muscular, good looking, only his blue eyes were different. "Hey Dal, good to see you." Dalten Jr was a Violin instructor at the school, but rarely saw each other, except in passing. All of the family was gone. Rick's brother's and grand nieces had all drifted away. Crawford had lived a good long time, as did his sons. Every now and then one would call to check up "Uncle Rick."

Dal stared at the ancient Dalmatian. "It's time isn't it?" The huge equine took a stool and sat down. He ran a thick hand through his mane. "I knew it."

Rick sighed. He couldn't keep anything from the Taylor lines, even if Dalten held the Wells name he was still a Taylor. "It is son..it is...."

Dalten Wells Jr sighed. He reached forward and took the ancient canine in his arms and held him. "Soon, You'll be with him soon, I know it." The huge equine's blue eyes shone with tears.

The Taylor family had insisted. They were big on names being passed down. However, this time only one person could lay claim to the name Dalten, and that was Rick. He had broken down and cried at the naming of his grandson by Ken, his and Dal's son.

Dalten Samuel Wells.

Rick sighed and pushed his great grandson off. "Off with you! Go see your children. I'm just and old dog, and there are no more tricks for me to learn mmm?" He queried. Dalten Wells Jr. gave him a sorrowful look through his blue eyes but said nothing. The equine rose and trotted off.

**

Rick painfully walked the steps up to the apartment. He'd rarely left it anymore. Chas had left him and Dal the cabin in his will. Rick had only hazy memories of the time, it was so long ago. Chas and William and left him the one place they had so loved dear, along with the bulk of their fortune. Rick had found himself so affluent he could do anything, so he had done what he thought best.

He studied music. He buried himself in music, and tried to bury the pain of Dal. Dal lived, but only barely. He slept in perpetual life. Never waking, rarely moving. The only movement was the familiar sensation of Dal reaching up to scratch Rick's neck every night as he slept. It was the only comfort Rick ever found.

He'd studied hard. He'd become an expert on Dal's music, and the music of other contemporaries. He had graduated with his Masters from London, and then had gone on to study his Doctorate here back home, in music history. He worked hard. Music was ever at his fingers. When he found himself lost and in pain, he composed. When he found his mind wandering, he practiced.

He had hired nurses to help him bathe and take care of Dal, though nothing more than a bath was required. The one time he found a nurse being rough he had beaten the young equine to a pulp. The other equine had to pull Rick off of him before Rick truly did harm. He'd cried and cursed the other equine out of the house. The other only nodded knowingly and was very gentle and helped settle Rick down. Rick had made certain he knew who the colt was and paid him more than he deserved.

Rick shook his head.

Old fool. Get on with it!

Rick tottered up the stairs painfully, feeling every bit of his age and then some. He entered the room where Dal slept. The same room Dal and he had shared decades before.

"Hi Dal...."

Rick sighed at the equine form now withered with extreme age. His Soul Mark shone green against his withered chest. Rick sighed feeling the same from his own mark. It had never stopped since the last attack. Dal lived through Rick. Rick ate hugely. People would often stare at him as he would order huge meals, and were amazed he finished everything.

Rick limped to the side of the bed and sat down, as he did almost every day, and laid one hand against Dal's muzzle.

"Hello?"

The voice caused Rick to sit bolt upright, a twinge causing an ache in his back.

There stood a weasel priest. Rick's eyes widened. He recognized the same cream and gold vestments from before. Rick frowned. Years had made his mind cloudy, but this was one memory that stood in contrast. The weasel nodded. "Yes yes....you know me, point for you!"

Rick gaped at the Priest.

"Oh, I am a priest before you ask, and entirely mortal, I'm not some immortal soul, I was sent on a journey that is only now complete."

Rick opened and shut his gray muzzle several times....

"What?"

"You want to know why?"

Something snapped in Rick. "Yes! Why!? Why dammit why!? I loved him! He was my true love, my mate, my soul touched, why did we not die together?"

Rick shook with rage. The weasel only sighed and took his tri-cornered hat off.

"Did you really think he was gone?"

Rick froze.

**

Memory came back to Rick then. He was in his forties. He watched as his son trotted off to Basic, Dal by his side, the next memory was Ken coming back, sheepishly, presenting his bride, the handsome young Ensign holding the Filly's hand.

"He was there that day...did you not find the fact that tears came so easily to your eyes? They were not just your tears, no. They belonging to someone else as well."

Rick watched the memory as their son Ken presented his bride to Rick. Rick had quickly teared up confusededly, but held on to his son and soon to be daugter-in-law....

**

"Then there was the promotion. Capitan Kelten Franklin Taylor-Wells. He'd made captain of his own ship, His wife and his sons were at home in your care. Crawford was over for a visit when the news came of Ken's death in his thirty's. His ship had been attacked. The handsome young Captain had stayed aboard, making certain every hand was off ship before the final breach. He'd saved countless lives, just like his father....but you were strangely calm. A steadying presence for your family."

Rick watched in his memory as all of his family came to him, to hold him, to mourn Rick and Dal's son, their dad, their nephew. Rick stood there speaking calmly, stroking their manes, making certain each one knew he'd be there for them.

More tears came, not just his this time he realized, and a sense of pride welling up in him....from his bond.....

**

Rick spluttered pushing the memories aside. "That is NOT fair!" He stood shakily in his frail state. He glanced down at the equine figure.

"How dare you! I've been alone....so alone......"

The weasel smiled kindly and softened his features....

"Have you now?"

**

Rick was alone. It was right after both his mother, and Dal's mother Vi had died. He had laid shaking against the form of Dal in bed crying his heart out.

He had hugged Dalten tightly as the tears poured forth. He was bereft, with only Dalten Sr, and his son in training. He felt so alone. Dalten had reached up as he did every night, but this one time had weakly mouthed "I love you." Rick had barely registered the words but had repeated them to the sleeping form. At the time it had been enough...

**

Rick snapped back. The memory raw in his mind, the cloud of decades faded. The weasel smiled widely "And what of the joy you had?"

**

Dal laid in bed. Every night for the last several decades Rick would climb in, curl himself around Dal, and lay his head on the thick equine chest and feel Dal stroke his neck. He now realized it was real. Dal had really stroked his neck. He had never really been alone...

**

"But....for years....decades I was alone physically as well....." He yelled. His rheumy eyes teared up, his ancient voice cracking.

"Rick Rick Rick.....and who's fault was that?" The weasel stared.....

**

Rick remembered the few dalliances he'd had. All of them equine, and never a replacement for Dal. Each had been amazed he was "The Rick" and had deferred to him. In the end after the deed Rick had crawled up to Dal and had hugged the sleeping form and cried himself to sleep unsatisfied.

**

"You....You don't know.......!"

Rick was tearing up heavily now.

"Do I?"

**

Rick was back again at the bedside with William and Chas. He held the hand of the tiger, a nephew of the bull's a huge brown bull held Rick's hand and William's as the two breathed their last. The friendship between them had deepened over the years. Rick had cried on Chas and William's shoulder many times. They had both held him. Their nephew had only looked at him with respect and didn't deny the inheritance due to Rick.

**

The weasel smiled and stared at Rick.

"He was with you always Rick. Always there in the back of your mind and in your heart helping you."

Rick froze.

"He....what?"

"I said did you really think he was gone? Those tears with your son, the nights you spent weeping, only to wake feeling refreshed. Who was it that healed you? Who was it that touched your soul? What about this?"

**

Rick's vision faded. He found himself giving his grandson a lecture on being a Taylor. Rick didn't remember it. It had a lot to do with pride, family, and tradition. It had a smattering of Dal Sr in it.

**

"Did you think that came from you? No....Dal was there with you...guiding you."

"Do you know how many times people caught you calling yourself a "dumb horse" or "stupid equine?" You were more right than you know when you said your purpose would be to just be who you were meant to be, and the world would follow suit.

"Fat lot you care!" Rick shook violently at the weasel "What good did it do?"

At this point the weasel spread his hands.

"How many memorial concerts are there? How many times has the name Taylor-Wells been brought up in your own history classes? You know the score old man, think!"

Finally Rick counted it up. He had made a difference. After Dal had fallen asleep he had championed. He had conducted in his stead. He had composed. The "Requiem for a Composer," his oratorios on the wars, his own "15'Th Symphony" was known as "The Taylor." He'd become a leading figure on Dalten Wells. People came to him. He'd been as honest as he could, but people would always make Dal out to be bigger than he was. Rick didn't stop them and he gently manipulated the information to make Dal seem larger than life.

Rick dropped his head.

**

"Rick...he's been here. Did you ever wonder why you didn't die? Why he didn't? His mind was shattered beyond repair. A Soul Healing can only do so much. His soul and body were healed, but his mind was broken."

"Then why couldn't he awake!?" Rick whispered. His voice cracked with age.

The weasel shook his head. "If he had awoken like this would you have loved him? No. You wold have grown to loathe him"

**

The image thrown at him was of a very broken Dal. He recognized no one and lashed out. Rage constantly burned inside the equine. He trusted no one, cared for no one. He hurt all who came close. In time people turned away, even Rick....

**

Rick shuddered. He bowed his head.

"What do I do?"

The weasel grinned down at him.

"Go....be with him.....it's all you ever really needed to do."

Rick padded over painfully and hefted himself onto the bed. He laid his muzzle on Dal's chest. He began to drowse. He heard a rasping breath, not really caring if it was his or Dal's, he felt the fingers on his neck. Rick drifted to sleep.

**

*Authors note:

No one ever really truly dies. Their stories continue through the lives they have touched. Rick and Dal's lives will continue on, be sure of that.