FuchsiaII- Woa, don't harm yourself because of my story! lol. But you're absolutely right- the Discipline isn't about religion at all. That's what I was going for and I'm glad you reached the same conclusion. I've actually written a novel and I'm working on polishing it up a bit before I submit it to a publisher... so maybe you will see a book by me soon!
fabala4077- You're absolutely right: there is no happy ending for Silas. And I know the feeling of loving your characters that much! Thankfully, I knew Victor was marked for death before I really fleshed out his character, so I wasn't attached to him until the very end. But it still hurt to kill him! lol. Thanks for your reviews!
Sternenlicht- Wow, that's some high praise! I'm glad you liked the chapter so much!
Kelly Tolkien- I'm happy to be compared to Dan Brown- God knows I'd like to be as successful as he is! I was snooping around your profile and I couldn't help but notice that you're Irish- LUCKY! -cries because she wants to be Irish but is stuck being American- I'm going to marry an Irishman, somehow. Then I can at least be Irish by marriage. But until then I'll just sulk and be jealous of you and your awesome accents. lol! Thanks for all your reviews!
storm-of-insanity- Thanks for the review! I'm glad you noticed that I didn't make Opus Dei seem completely insane. I actually researched a bit about them before I wrote this fic because I wanted to make sure that everyone realized that this is just Silas being crazy, not an entire organization.
This is set at the very end of the Da Vinci Code. In the movie Silas dies instantly, right at the Opus Dei house, but this didn't fit where I was going with this so I stayed with the book. For anyone who didn't read it,in the book he rushes Aringarosa to the hospital, then lets himself die slowly in Kensington Gardens.
Sublimation- Epilogue
Silas knows that as he dies he should be confessing his last sins. He should feel the weight of them lifting off his shoulders, making him ready to be carried off into eternity. He should be feeling the lightness he always feels in prayer. After all, he is in darkness and in pain, as he requires. It occurs to him that he has never been able to reach out to God on his own terms. He has always required something more.
He starts at the unfamiliar feel of a tear on his cheek. All this, and he has failed. He and Father Manuel are betrayed. The Grail is lost. He cannot even reach out to his Lord for salvation.
There is no use crying now, He tells himself.
He forces himself to look back through the whole of his mission, from the moment when the police ambushed Opus Dei and backwards. For the first time he feels guilt at killing the Grand Master and the three senechaux. How could he have been so righteous?
I followed Father Manuel blindly, as he followed the Church. I fear that has been our greatest crime.
Inexorably, Silas is drawn back to the night when his mission began. The night, he recognizes now, that he ceased to exist. He was dead long before this bullet ever pierced his side.
Months later, he still cannot remember laying his hands on Victor. He remembers only afterwards, when he didn't even dare to look down and see the body. He remembers the cold steel of the gun in his hands all too well, remembers Sauniere's frightened face as if it were yesterday. Itwas yesterday. Yet this crime, his oldest one, his unremembered one, is the one that haunts him the most.
In the end, maybe the Priory of Sion really were blasphemers. Maybe I will be rewarded for trying to stop them. Maybe I am a soldier of God. But is their blood enough to wipe away that of my only friend?
Silas prays harder. He can feel his chest begin to tighten as breathing gets harder and harder. He can no longer feel from his knees down, or from his elbows to his hands. The cuts on his back and the cilice on his leg no longer torment him either. His body is dissolving into the arms of the mist. He is a ghost at last.
Then, just before his breathing stops, he feels a hand on his shoulder.
Silas feels a wild moment of fear, thinking that he has been discovered. He will be saved- no, he will be damned. Some good Samaritan will come by and take him to the hospital and deny him his final rest, and he will be damned. He will be forced to stand trial, to share every horrifying detail of his past, to be picked apart by judge and jury like an insect under a microscope.
"Leave me to die."
Silas tries feebly to ward off the hand, but then it leaves of its own accord. Then its owner stands before him.
"Hello, Brother."
Silas's heart stops at the sight of Victor's eyes, the last image of his most heinous crime that he can remember.
Silas is on his back, but he doesn't know how he got there. He can't even feel it, really. He just knows that he is on his back because he is looking at the sky.
"Sit up." The voice is familiar and gentle, and Silas obeys without thinking, as he always does. He is face to face with Victor.
"Victor," He breathes, although no breath passes his lips. "Have you come to take me?"
"Yes," The voice is grave, the eyes a little sad.
"Where?"
"You will see."
Victor raises Silas to his feet. He is still wearing the clothes Silas last saw him in, but there is no blood on him. His handsome face is still intact.
"Victor, forgive me."
"It is not for me to forgive."
"Do you hate me?"
"It is not in me to hate."
"It is in me," Silas whispers with shame. "I hated you when I killed you. And afterwards I hated myself."
"I felt it, Silas. It hurt me more than you will know. But the fact that you killed me doesn't make you evil. It was simply part of your path."
"Then I was born to sin?"
"No. Just... think of it this way. Everything you have done, from the moment we met, has served a purpose for us both. I learned tolerance and patience from helping you. I learned of a new kind of suffering. I feel no anger at my own death, Silas. The first emotion I remember feeling afterwards is fear. I was horrified by my death, because I knew what it would do to you. I was afraid it would destroy you. The pain of my death is nothing compared to the pain it caused you." His voice falters. "If I hadn't pushed you so hard that day, I might have found a different way to save you. If I hadn't died, none of... this ever would've happened."
His quest was as useless as he thought.
Silas wants to cry. He thinks he is crying, in fact, but he can't feel the tears on his cheeks.
"Your path was to learn. Was mine to suffer?"
"Yes. You were a twisted soul, bent out of shape by a hard life. It is only natural that in unbending you, you should suffer once more. But you have arrived at the end of your path at last. Death heals all wounds, they say...
"I don't understand. I have been a sinner. I have done nothing to deserve salvation. I failed God- I'm not even sure that Father Manuel and I were really serving Him." Silas feels the tide of anger rising in him. "I don't understand!"
Victor won't answer at first. He looks away from Silas, his head tilted down. For a moment a ray of sunlight passes straight through him, as if he weren't really there at all. Silas raises his own hand, clenched in fury, and then relaxes it slightly. The light passes through him too.
"It was part of your path, Silas. I was meant to think I could save myself by saving you. You were meant to think you could save yourself by protecting the Church. And now..." A quiet smile. "Now."
"Am I saved?"
Victor turns away.
"Come on. We've got a ways to go." Victor begins to walk away. Silas follows with hesitation.
"Where are we going?"
"Don't you remember? It's Tuesday!"
Tuesday. The day of small indulgences, when they removed themselves from their every day lives and found a kind of heaven in a rundown restaurant.
"You do realize, Victor, that we are in London. New York is a long ways away."
"I told you we've got a ways to go."
Silas continues to follow Victor, until he notices something that unsettles him. The landscape of Kensington Gardens hasn't changed, although Silas knows now that he is dead. Yet there is no light for him to head to, no chorus of heavenly voices calling him home. Bewildered, he turns to Victor with fear in his eyes.
"Am I a ghost?"
Victor smiles and puts an arm around Silas's shoulders.
"No. You are an angel."
They continue on their path.
fin
A/N-- Well, there's the end folks. I never expected to receive such an overwhelming response to this fic and I'm eternally grateful for the support you gave me. I'm not sure if I'll be returning to write DVC fanfiction after this, but I will continue to read and review. I'll see you guys around!