Returning Home

A/N: The contents of this chapter may not be suitable for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion. (Mild suggestive content)

A short time later, Derek was walking alongside a road towards the city -- although on the one hand, Derek cursed his brother's stupidity for bringing him only this far out before killing him, on the other, he was grateful. Had Peter truly dropped him in the middle of nowhere, then he had little doubt he'd have had trouble surviving. Derek E. Remington was many things, but a wilderness survivalist was not one of them.

As he walked, he found himself subconscious about something that he felt was rather peculiar: his partially exposed chest. He couldn't rightly say why. Sure, the shirt under his noble's suit was torn and bloody, to the extent that most of the front was missing, but why would that make him feel embarrassed? It was nighttime, for one, and for another, he couldn't particularly recall any other occasion where he'd felt exposed for having his chest partially bare. It might not be particularly polite in certain settings, but there was no reason to feel this shy. 

He pondered for quite a while without enlightenment. Eventually, he reached the outskirts of the city, and he entered in search of street signs. He had considered knocking on a decent-looking resident's door and asking to borrow their telephone, but considering the state of his attire and the fact that a resident might not even have a telephone to begin with, he decided not to. Once he found someplace he recognized, he figured he could find his home easily enough.

His assumptions about himself proved to be too generous, however. After over half an hour following this road, he still had no clue where he was, and he began to doubt his ability to follow through on his plan. Should he just give up and ask for help?

His pride disallowed that. No, even if it took him past dawn, he'd find his way home on his own. Surely he could do that much! He was healthy and fit due to regular training with the sword, so there was no reason to worry about distance. Of course, once the city stirred, his bloody appearance might frighten someone and get him in trouble with the authorities. That would be a problem. The other issue would be if he was late for performing his duties as Heir of the Remington household. He had an important meeting later today, and his wife was expecting him for a special dinner tonight.

Wait. Wife? 

That's right, he recalled. I have a wife and two kids. Jenneca, my son Howard and daughter Rachel. They're my reason for living in this world, how could I forget them?? They're why I wanted to return so badly.

With an extra energy to his steps, Derek continued onwards, more determined than ever to find his way home, fulfill his duties as the Heir, then design his first Paranormal Event and guarantee his survival.

Things went fairly smoothly from that point. It took him a while to find his way home, but there was still plenty of time left before dawn. He secretly washed himself using water from the well (hating how cold it was), stashed his bloody clothes under his bed, and crawled into his bed as quietly as he could manage, trying not to disturb his wife. 

He was unsuccessful.

As he pulled the covers onto himself, Jenneca noticed the movement and stirred, waking up a little. "Derek?" She asked groggily.

"Yes, it's me," he replied softly. 

"Where were you? You're usually not out so late."

"I had business," he lied smoothly. He wasn't about to tell her that he'd been murdered and revived by some mysterious "Savior" being. She had no need to worry herself over such things.

"Hmm," she hummed, sounding doubtful but cozying up to him. "Well alright. Welcome back, dear."

Derek had been feeling tired, but something about the soft and gentle way she was pressing up against him woke him right up. His heart was pounding and something was happening down below. What was going on?

He was a married man, with two kids, so why did this feel so unfamiliar? He understood the basics, but for some reason felt as if the experience he should have had with his body was missing. Was it because his brother had hit his head before killing him, and he was then resurrected? His memories had been feeling rather strange overall. Perhaps it wasn't unusual that his body didn't remember, either, since it had been brought back from death. Maybe he shouldn't feel upset with how fresh this all felt. Maybe he should embrace it as an opportunity.

Jenneca giggled softly, her torso shaking with the sound and her breath soft on his bare chest. Her hand reached up and stroked the side of his face gently. "My, my," she teased, "Someone's feeling frisky. Just hold on til after dinner tonight, mmk?" Her voice was soft and alluring, her body tantalizing, but he could tell that she was tired as well as serious. He would have to wait.

He stroked her face in turn, kissing her forehead and breathing in her scent. "Alright, Jenneca," he said reluctantly. "I'll wait."

It took him quite some time to fall asleep that night.