A/N: Mina's thoughts on Quincey. No pairing, just a kind of friendship.
I know the character doesn't smoke... but for me it worked to write it this way. Enjoy.
Set at the end of 'Suckers'.
-x-x-x-x-x-
I close my eyes, my view not changing as I sit outside the outdoor entrance to the Stacks, the need for air causing me to excuse myself from the chatter inside, as comforting as it had been for a while. It was nice to be able to smile, to joke with friends... but I'm tired. So, so tired...
I smile as I think back to the Stacks, the conversation that had just happened.
"You're... as I expected."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ruby had squealed in a half-horrified, half mocking tone which had made me smile. Galvin had added something to the conversation and I'd been quite happy to make sure he didn't find himself superior to Ruby by throwing a remark back at him. Though it was true, he wasn't the robust young man I used to know.
I breath in the fresh air, taking off my elbow length gloves to reveal the needle plugged in my arm. I run her fingers over it, flinching a little. Yes, it hurt, but it was better than trying to find a vein in my arm when I couldn't even see where to point the needle. I sigh, taking a pack of cigarettes out of my bag.
A filthy habit, I know, but not an addiction. Just a thing I tended to do when stressed to a point I didn't care much, a good way to make me appreciate fresh air. Something I am rarely felt grateful for now days.
But especially today, I think, my heart heavy with the thought of my beloved Quincey. He wasn't my son, not truly. My son had died a long time ago. But his body... that piece of Quincey that had existed inside of the freak that walked around with his mask... that had died today. The last connection I'd had to my old life. My life with Jonathan.
I blow out a trail of smoke, which I imagine in my mind to be long and winding, twisting in the air, wishing I could watch it. Deadly or not smoke was beautiful in its own sadistic way. I remember when I was a young girl, watching the flames on Bonfire night, my eyes straying away from the fire, to the smoke floating softly into the air, like some kind of wisp.
In my first year as a vampire I had walked past a burning building late one night, the fire-fighters doing their best to put out the fire, and I had stood there mesmerized, my eyes fixed on the sheer beauty. The smoke had risen into the sky like some kind of majestic demon, a vicious gas that could choke a person to death. The moon had made it even more beautiful, it's rays seemingly captured in the smokey trap. That night I had walked away with a child in my arms, and handed her into the nearest orphanage- the only survivor of the fire. The rest had choked to death, their bodies not even charred when they were pulled out a few hours later.
The governor had looked at me oddly, wondering where I – I suppose I must have seemed strange- had came from, handing them a child, the ends of my hair singed, reeking of smoke.
I had gone home to Jonathan that night and found comfort in his arms. Soon after Quincey had been born, and I'd had to work harder than ever to bring him up with good morals, the constant ache inside of me- the struggle between soul and vampire- dulling a little with every year I watched him grow. First into an inquisitive, mischievous little boy who loved life. Then into a young man; strong, loving, compassionate.
To think; nothing had made me happier than my Quincey.
Of course, like all children he had started to ask questions. Some quite early, like why his mother had never stepped foot in daylight. An allergy. That's what the town knew, and it's what he would know. You can't trust a five year old to keep a secret for very long.
Some he asked later, say when he was about ten years old, and had noticed that Jonathan's hair was slowly turning silver, his age showing in his eyes and his face. He'd also noticed that I never changed. There was never a grey hair upon my head, and never a new wrinkle on my face. But a ten year old doesn't notice that your eyes age too.
The thoughts of Quincey make my eyes water, and I rub at them, taking a deep drag of the cigarette in my hand. I frown, feeling the heat get closer to my fingers.
A cigarette never lasts long enough when you're thinking.
"Those things'll kill you." Ruby. Just who I need right now- will she make a joke? A sarcastic remark? I hope not. It would be the nail in the coffin, so to speak.
"Only vampires can kill vampires." I whisper, feeling Ruby sit next to me and take the cigarette out of my hand. "They'll kill you."
"Maybe. But what's life without a little risk?" Ruby asks, no doubt with a smirk on her face as I sniff a little, smelling the smoke on Ruby's breath.
"You say that, but we fight demons and half-lives on a regular basis." I raise my eyebrows, turning my head in Ruby's direction as the younger woman takes my hand, placing the cigarette firmly between my fingers.
"Well then I probably won't live long enough to die from the causes of smoking."
"Don't say that." I say, feeling my shoulders droop slightly.
"Are you okay?" Her voice is soft. Soothing. I blow out as I sigh, shaking my head slightly.
"No. Yes. I suppose." You think after being alive for a rough 145 years would make me more decisive.
"So... no?"
"Pretty much." I smile a little, glad to have the company. Just not the noisiness of being surrounded by people. "I never realised how hard it would hit me you know."
"Quincey?"
"No. Death itself. I mean, I almost can't die. Galvin has my hairs stored in case I become... that again. But besides that particular gun or another vampire killing me... I don't often think about death. And it's easier to forget that people age when you don't watch them do it."
"Galvin?"
"He's not getting any younger, Ruby." I stub the cigarette out on the step, clutching hold of my stick.
"Tell me about it." I snort in a fashion that probably isn't lady-like, and Ruby giggles a little. "He wasn't your son you know." Her voice is sombre again, and I shrug.
"Wasn't he?"
"Do you think he was?"
"He didn't act like my son, didn't love like my son. I think he may of forgotten how." I raise my head, trying to imagine that I'm looking up at a star studded sky, a full moon half hidden behind the clouds. Wispy clouds that look like smoke. "But if I can find myself when I'm a vampire... if I can fight the urge to be like him, then surely he's in there somewhere. I know I am. Constantly."
"Then maybe you've given him peace."
I nod, happy with that. "I'd like to think so." I close my eyes, a part of me forgetting how little of a difference it makes any more. "What are the stars like tonight Ruby?"
"They're beautiful Mina." She says, a kind of awe in her voice that tells me she loves them as much as I do. "It's a clear night."
"And the moon?"
"It's a crescent, the gap on the right, lighting up the smokey clouds near it."
I smile, standing, balancing myself on my stick as I open the door to the Stacks tunnel.
"Are you okay now?"
"I will be Ruby." I say, holding out my arm, and she hooks her own through it, linking us. "I will be."