Later that day, Ethan sat himself down on the sofa, pressed the relevant speed dial number, and waited for the line to ring. It was quickly answered.

"White's Farmhouse."

"Lucy, it's Ethan. Don't worry, it's not bad news, Rupert is doing very well. I just wondered if you could pass on a–"

"Actually, Ethan," she interrupted briskly. "I think it would be better if you told him yourself."

"But I... he hasn't got a phone, has he?" Ethan rubbed his face with his spare hand. Lucy was never easy to communicate with; somehow her very directness made her harder to understand than a more casual speaker. "Or do you mean that he...?"

Lucy laughed. There was a muffled noise at the other end; then a familiar male voice said, "Hello, Ethan. Get distracted, did you? I was expecting to hear from you a couple of hours ago."

Ethan chuckled. It was surprisingly reassuring to hear his mentor's voice. "Hello, Ian. You're a smug git as I believe I may have mentioned once or twice before. So what am I calling about then, oh wise one?"

Ian's voice became immediately serious. "Your brush with your old self."

The wind inevitably left Ethan's sails at that. "Yes," he said tightly. "Ian, er... how much do you already know?"

"Keri visited me. She told me that Chaos was attacking you, except she used a lot more vague and cryptic words."

Ethan could imagine. He decided to start more or less at the beginning. "The Chaos mage who attacked Rupert and me on the train... his magic was, well, far worse than mine ever was. He had obviously passed the soul-selling stage. It was... it unravelled patterns, Ian. It was terrifying. Everything it touched just fell apart, including Rupert..." Ethan heard his voice crack and stopped talking while he tried recover equilibrium.

"But you held him together." Ian's voice was sympathetic as he reminded Ethan of that most important fact.

"Somehow." Ethan could still feel the blinding terror of the moment, the sensation of Rupert's form disintegrating below his hands. "I killed the mage."

"Good. Don't waste any time angsting over doing what you had to do, my boy. That's not murder, that's.... eradicating an infestation."

The reassurance felt unarguably good, but... "The authorities may think otherwise."

"Ah, but that's a pattern that's easy to twist. Slipping unnoticed between the threads – it's the sort of thing our kind does best."

"Except when... oh, I'm jumping ahead too much." Ethan stood and headed for the drinks cabinet; he needed one, it seemed, no matter the early hour. "The Chaos stayed where it hit, getting absorbed into things like radiation. I have no idea why I never even considered that I might have been infected. Trauma-induced stupidity, I guess..."

"You weren't meant to consider it," Ian told him bluntly. "Chaos can be subtle as well as overwhelming. It can sneak into the secret places when you're not paying attention. That you didn't realise what had happened at first is no fault of yours, Ethan."

"Thank you," he acknowledged as he poured out a small whisky. "I suppose it must have been very easy to gain access to me; I'd drained myself so thoroughly of my own power... but I still feel, shall we say, less than perspicacious?" He headed back to the sofa. "I didn't sleep the night of the attack. I'm not sure what I thought I was doing as it was long past the time that the dregs of my magic could do anything to heal Rupert. I fed him as much of my own lifeforce as I dared, but it didn't wake him. One of his young American friends volunteered some of his, and that did the trick..."

Ethan found he could feel nothing but gratitude for Xander's sacrifice. It didn't matter whose energy had been pure enough to wake Rupert, only that someone's had been.

"A willing gift can sometimes be the most powerful energy of all."

"Very true, oh wise one," Ethan teased, knowing he could. Sobering, he continued. "I was sent home the next evening. I think both of us now realise that was a mistake. I... Well, saying I had a dream is a bit like saying I read a story when I mean War and Peace."

"It wasn't a dream." Now Ian sounded completely serious. "It was an attack. Even drained as you were, you were too strong when you were awake and with Rupert; it had to wait until you were asleep."

"That... makes sense." Ethan paused to swig back his drink, wincing as it hit home. "Ian... I believed every word it told me."

"Of course you did," Ian agreed. "It was speaking to your darkest fears, things that you've imagined happening over and over. Everyone has fears and insecurities; that's what it plays on."

Nodding to himself at Ian's words, Ethan confessed, "I broke down. Not immediately – I managed to go five, six days and stay just about sane. But then something happened, and I... I nearly threw away everything that matters." He said the last words in a hurry, trying not to really think about them.

"And that scares you still."

"'Terrifies' would be more accurate. I turned myself into a fox and made a spirited attempt to wipe my mind of who I am."

He heard Ian let out a soft breath. "You don't do things by half, do you, m'boy?"

"I'm not known for moderation," Ethan agreed sheepishly. "Rupert saved me, at personal cost to himself. Ian, I need to know..." He took a deep breath and let it out before continuing. "How do I stop this happening again?"

"Do you think it'll happen again?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I wouldn't have thought it could happen before, but it did. Ian, please. I'm..." Ethan closed his eyes.

"Ethan, do you think you'll ever forget how the Chaos felt?" Ian asked gently.

"How sick in my soul it made me? No, I can't imagine forgetting that in a hurry."

"So if you're ever in that kind of situation again, you're going to recognise what is happening long before it gets to that point."

Ethan was far from convinced. "I should have recognised it this time. I should have at least considered the possibility."

"Maybe," Ian said. "But that's just going to make you ever more vigilant in the future, don't you think?"

"Until I get complacent." Ethan's fingers were drawing patterns on the couch cushion, following lines only he could see. "Isn't there anything I can do beyond relying on my own judgement?"

"That's all any of us has to rely on, my boy," Ian told him gently. "Our own judgement."

"That's... That's not good enough."

"Do you trust Rupert's judgement?"

"Completely," Ethan said immediately then sighed. "Except concerning matters to do with his own health and safety."

"You substitute your own judgement for his in those situations."

Ethan really didn't like the sound of that. "I, er..."

"Well, don't you?" Ian asked, hidden amusement in his voice.

"Mean old crow," Ethan grumbled. "That's what you are. A man should be allowed his own deluded logic."

Ian chuckled. "Don't ask the questions, Ethan, if you don't want the answers. Which I know is an impossible thing to ask of you; you always want the answers."

"True enough." He wasn't prepared to give up yet. "There must be something though. A mystical canary that will keel over when Chaos enters me perhaps?"

"Magic is like life; neither comes with a money back guarantee," Ian told him. "You just have to do what you can as you go along."

"So what does that mean? Improvise?"

"Ethan, you walk the patterns, bending them to make your path," The words were delivered in what Ethan had fondly dubbed Ian's 'teacher's voice'. "If something is put in your way, move the threads, shift the picture and go around it. The kind of power that calls to you and me sees the patterns, sees the rules, but doesn't accept that they are absolute. Faced with an intolerable situation, there's always a way to change the rules to your advantage."

"I already know how to suck eggs," Ethan commented wryly. "But your point is taken and well made... and possibly very applicable to a problem that Rupert and I now face." He sighed. "I miss Devon. We've been back in London not even a fortnight, and we've been attacked, Rupert nearly died, I was corrupted and tried to destroy myself, and we're being blackmailed by the biggest bitch since the QE2."

"So it's been a full couple of weeks," Ian said dryly.

"You could say that. Fancy a weekend in the big city?" Ethan chuckled.

"What would you do if I said yes?"

"Put clean bedding on the spare bed?"

Ian laughed. "I'll come when you need me, but I think you're going to be busy this weekend, and Rupert doesn't like it when I eavesdrop."

"I'd ask how you know, but I guess it doesn’t take much to work out, knowing us." Still chuckling, Ethan put his feet up on the coffee table and leant back. "You're welcome anytime though. I'll always be very glad to see you, emergency or not."

"Thank you, m'boy. I may take you up on that some day."

Something... twitched in Ethan's mind at that. "Yes," he said slowly, "I do believe you will. And what's more, you know it. What's Keri been saying to you, Ian?"

"Dreams within riddles," Ian replied, and Ethan could picture the mysterious smile his mentor surely was wearing. "What else does she ever say?"

Ethan shook his head to himself. "I'm quite certain you're more adept than I at seeing the patterns within those riddles and dreams. I take it that means I'm not permitted to know yet."

"We each have our own paths we have to follow. Although they may intersect for a while, where I must go is not necessarily your destination."

"That's a very indirect way of saying it's none of my damn business." Ethan smiled. "All right, I'll drop the subject. I do have one more student-to-mentor question, if I may, however?"

"Of course." Ian's voice became expansive and dramatic. "What use wisdom if we cannot share it?"

Rolling his eyes, Ethan soldiered on, lowering his voice just in case Rupert was awake upstairs and somehow listening in. "The mage who attacked us. Do you believe, or has Keri said anything to suggest, that the attack was more than simply a random encounter?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," Ian replied seriously.

"Bugger it," Ethan cursed. "I wanted to be wrong. Why? Will there be more? Who are they and why are they after us?"

"Why? Because you and Rupert are who you are. Because of what you will become."

"Guardians and Defenders," Ethan murmured, quoting Keri.

"Natural order and natural chaos intertwined," Ian said. "The two of you together will have a power that hasn't been seen in a very long time."

"If we live long enough to get that far. Hell. Hell and bugger it." Ethan was up and out of the sofa, pacing the floor, ranting in a way he knew full well was petulant. "Ian, we... why us? Haven't we been through enough? Rupert may be a hero, but I'm far from one. What the hell did we do to deserve such a destiny? I don't want it. Take it back. Oh God..." Ethan realised what he'd just said, realised it was more than just words. "It was yours once, wasn't it?" he asked, a little horrified. "Your destiny. But they... they got to the 'Order' of your Chaos before you ever had a chance."

It was a beat or two before Ian spoke. "Your insight is becoming sharp enough to cut. Yes," he said softly. "You've been a target since your first brush with your power; Rupert's been one since you first met. Just as I was; just as Derek was. By luck and by skill, you and Rupert managed to survive those years when you were most vulnerable; others were not so fortunate." His voice got harsher. "You have this destiny, but you also have Rupert; the only way to divest yourself of the former is to give up the latter."

"Never," Ethan swore. There was a noise from upstairs; Rupert, completely contrary to instructions, seemed to be moving about. Ethan frowned and started making his way slowly up the stairs, telephone still pressed to his ear. "Christ. They, it... the Chaos... it nearly made me do just that. Never ever again."

"There's the answer to your original question then. About how you can be sure you won't be infected again. You won't be because you won't allow it."

"You're right," Ethan finally accepted. He paused with his hand on the bedroom door handle and said quietly, "Ian, I'm so sorry about... Derek? Thank you for everything."

He opened the door and went in, a scolding expression ready on his face, and found that Rupert had pulled on a pair of old sweatpants and was balanced on his good leg and his cane, halfway to the door. "Get back in bed immediately!" Ethan said as fiercely as he knew how. "Er, not you, Ian," he added in a quieter voice to the phone.

Ian chuckled in his ear. "Pity. And here I thought you were propositioning an old man."

Rupert, meanwhile, was looking mulish. "You sounded upset," he said, making no move to retreat to the bed.

"Ian, I have to go. Someone doesn't take my authority very seriously. Thank you. Again." Ethan glared at Rupert and pointed with his free hand at the bed. "Now!"

"Are you all right?" Rupert persisted, still not moving.

"Do you want to be spanked?" Ethan threatened, still glaring. He heard Ian chuckling before the line went dead. "Get back into bed. Then you get to ask questions."

"I'm fine," Rupert said stubbornly, but he finally began limping back across the room.

Ethan put the phone down on the side and hurried to help. "How did you even find the bloody cane? I'd warded it! Are we so bonded now you can see through my spells?"

"I know the way your mind works, and I know the feel of your magic when I touch it."

"You’re a very stubborn old git, that's what you are." Ethan helped Rupert back into bed and reclaimed the cane. "But at least you're not crawling across the floor on your hands and knees and pulling bedside cabinets over on top of yourself." He smirked ruefully at Rupert.

"I've got better balance than you," Rupert retorted, unable to completely hide a wince as he stretched out his bad leg.

"Dearheart, am I going to have to dig out the bondage gear in order to keep you put? You're never going to get better unless you give yourself a chance to heal." Ethan headed around to his side of the bed and lay on the covers beside Rupert. "I need you better," he admitted. It was the truth, but also a calculated attempt to see if appealing to Rupert's protective instincts might work more effectively than everything else Ethan had tried so far.

Rupert reached over and tugged Ethan into his arms. "I'm going to have to get up eventually, you know."

"Not without me to help you," Ethan insisted. Then he chuckled. "In any sense of the phrase."

"Is that how you plan on keeping me in bed?" Rupert teased.

"If necessary."

Rupert smiled then leant up enough for a kiss. "Having you here might just be enough to do that."

Ethan gave him a weak smile when they parted again. "We need, as they say, to talk."

Rupert's smile faded. "You sound serious," he said.

"I am." Ethan nodded. "Ian just told me some things, things the old bastard has clearly known for a long time as well." Even as he expressed it, the little anger he felt for Ian's reticence faded. Ethan only had to remember what Ian had lost to forgive him just about anything.

"So what did Ian tell you?" Rupert asked, one hand brushing lightly over Ethan's back.

Ethan shifted a little so that their gazes could meet more easily. "Well, remember Keri's wonderful line in old bollocks? This was more of the same. We're meant to be together, and together we will have power of Tolkienesque proportions if we make it that far without the enemies of whatever it is we represent destroying us." He cupped one side of Rupert's face. "It wasn't a random attack, dearheart."

Rupert let out a soft sigh. "I would have been very surprised to find out that it was. It was too... focused for something that just happened randomly."

"This is why you have to get better properly. Neither of us can afford– We need to be prepared." Ethan became aware that his hand on Giles' cheek was pressing too firmly so he let it drop. He looked down as he muttered, "The only way to stop future attacks occurring is... divorce."

Rupert covered Ethan's hand with his own. "That's not an option," he said fiercely.

Ethan closed his eyes briefly. After a pause, he looked up. "It seems then, dearheart, we're at war on all sides. Time, perhaps, to call on our allies."

"Indeed, and start researching to see if we can find out more details about why we're suddenly a target." Rupert smiled encouragingly. "Luckily, I've a bit of experience dealing with this sort of thing."

Ethan screwed his face up at the thought of research. "I think we've always been a target, at least since..." He stopped, unsure if he should share Ian's personal life. "While I worshiped Chaos, I think we maybe weren't considered a threat, just another failed pair of potentials. I get the impression there's been many before us."

"Like Ian?" Rupert asked. Ethan offered a rueful smile as confirmation, and Rupert shook his head. "And here I thought I was running away from my destiny when we first became involved."

"Had you not left, I doubt we'd both still be alive. It's a light in which our entire past changes." Ethan leant in to kiss Rupert briefly again before saying, "I'd rather like us to have a future as well as a past, however."

"We will." Rupert took Ethan's face between his two hands. "We're going to figure out who is after us and why. If we're meant to do something, we're going to figure out what that is and do it. We'll deal with whatever is thrown at us. I promise, love."

Ethan knew his smile was less than certain. "Does that include the Wicked Witch of the West End?"

Rupert's returning smile had more than a hint of Ripper in it. "Our dear Francesca is going to find that she's playing outside her league."

"Yes?" Ethan's grin was now a lot more bright and firm. "Are we going to be wicked ourselves?"

"You always make me feel wicked." Rupert leant in and kissed him.

That was nice, but Ethan needed specifics. "What are we going to do to her?" he asked as the kiss broke.

"All in good time, love. We need to have a war council."

"Soon?"

"Soon," Rupert confirmed. His mouth quirked up at the edges. "Although you're going to have to let me out of bed to do so."

Ethan's answering look was arch. "You're allowed out of bed if I'm there to help you, as well you know. Your crime was trying to get up without my aid."

Rupert didn't look the least bit repentant. "I could hear you. You sounded upset."

"And you didn't think buggering up all the healing you've managed so far would upset me further?"

"I wasn't buggering up any healing," Rupert said a bit peevishly. "That's what the cane was for."

Ethan felt he was probably pouting, although it wasn't deliberate. "Why won't you let me look after you, Rupert?" It wasn't as if it came naturally to him, and yet he was trying so very hard.

Rupert sighed. "I am," he said, reaching for Ethan's hand. "But I can't stop looking after you at the same time."

"I believe that's called trying to top from the bottom," Ethan pointed out, his eyebrow raised.

"It's just the truth." He pulled Ethan closer, wrapping his arms around him. "Taking care of you is ingrained. I can't stop doing it."

And in truth, Ethan didn't want him to. He shifted again to lean back in Rupert's arms and snuggle close, letting his hand play over his husband's chest. "I like you in control," he finally said, echoing his words from the sex earlier in the day.

"I don't want to run roughshod over you," Rupert said softly, looking down at Ethan's hand on his chest. "But when you're hurting, I can't help myself."

"I hurt when you hurt," Ethan pointed out. "Especially when it's my fault."

"This isn't your fault, love."

"Some of it is." Ethan kissed Rupert's shoulder. "That's okay."

"Is it?" Rupert asked softly, tilting his head down to meet Ethan's gaze.

Ethan nodded. He accepted his guilt in this matter, what there was of it. "This isn't like when the Chaos was in me. I'm seeing clearly now, dearheart. In most of this, I'm a victim of an attack. But not everything I did was so unwitting."

"But under the influence," Rupert countered.

"No. Not for all of it."

"No?"

Ethan met Rupert's gaze. "In the club, before the attack, that was all me."

"Actually," Rupert's eyes sparkled with humour as he spoke, "I'm fairly sure that was both of us."

Knuckling Rupert's chest lightly, Ethan scolded, "You know full well what I mean. I forced the issue. Compelled you more or less to do what I wanted, which someone –presumably the git in the anorak we saw on the train later– filmed."

"You think I couldn't have pulled back if I wanted to?" Rupert asked.

Ethan didn't actually know the answer to that so he avoided the question. "This is why me having control is a very bad idea. I... I'm still not much more than a sensation-seeker."

Rupert ran a light finger over Ethan's cheek. "You're far more than that, love. You always have been."

Despite his determination to make his point, Ethan found he was melting under the love and acceptance he was being shown. He laughed softly. "You know, dearheart, there was a time when you were quite keen on me showing a sense of responsibility."

"Don't look now, but you have been," Rupert said, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. "With Megan and Kat, with your magic..."

Ethan made a face and lifted his head to kiss Rupert as it seemed altogether nicer than telling his husband to shut up. Before their lips met however, the telephone he'd brought up earlier began to ring.

Rupert quirked a smile at him. "Should I get that or you?" he asked, making as if to get up.

Scowling a little, Ethan pushed down on Rupert's shoulder as he lifted himself up, rolling then and getting off the bed. The receiver was on the chest of drawers. Instead of answering it, he pushed it across the bed to Rupert. "It will be someone asking after you. You might as well tell them yourself."

"You mean I'm going to be allowed to talk on the phone?" Rupert asked teasingly, as he reached for the receiver.

Ethan crimped his lips in reply to the teasing. "If it's one of the girls, tell them I'm sorry I worried them so?" He turned to leave the bedroom.

"Ethan," Rupert called after him. When Ethan paused and looked back around, Rupert smiled and added, "Love you."

He grinned, feeling the words as warmth surrounding him, but all he said was, "Answer quickly, dearheart, or the voice mail will get it." Then he shut the door.