Authors notes: For the latest prompt on "lsfanfic" over on livejournal in which we had to use "His face was sliced wide open by the glass, his blood splattering everywhere." in the fic. What started out as an angsty fic for Valentine's Day took a turn for the worst. Authors notes 2: I'm worried about tense and OOCness in this fic. I tried to clean it up a little bit but seeing as how I'm just getting it in under the wire as it is, I'm afraid it's not as good as it could be. All mistakes are my own.
Ghost hadn't meant for it to happen the way it did. He had wanted the chance to warn Steve, to let him know that the situation had changed even though he had been too busy fighting demons to notice. He had wanted to let him know what was going on inside his head.
Unfortunately, it hadn't happened that way.
Steve had come home from the record store late one night, bitching about...something. It was always something with Steve. He threw the T-Bird's keys onto the scratched up counter, not noticing the new wine bottle that adorned the kitchen table, nor the extra set of keys that had magically appeared beside it. He also didn't notice the black canvas shoes with the star shoelaces resting next to Ghost's own white pair, looking more natural than when Steve's own beat up boots sat there.
What he did notice when he walked into the living room was a thin framed, black clad body running a hand through Ghost's pale hair and kissing his lips passionately. Steve was frozen on the spot, eyes unable to tear away from the two bodies that were moving together, beautifully in sync, completely lost in each other.
Steve knew he didn't want to watch this; didn't want to watch Ghost be devoured by someone that wasn't him. He didn't want to realize that he had been too stupid, too slow to claim what he had wanted since that first day in the woods when they were eleven-years-old.
But he couldn't stop staring.
There was something familiar about the way the black figure hand cupped Ghost's cheek. Something familiar about the flow of his whispy body. And then, as the person's head turned slightly, he stared at the profile and realized who it was.
"What the fuck?" Steve couldn't move, could barely ibreath/i.
Two heads turned towards him quickly, eyes wide and wild. Nothing flew half way across the room before Steve even realized he had moved. Steve's eyes darted back and forth between his enemy and his best friend, brain working wildly trying to figure out...anything that made sense. A reason why Ghost would let that fucking ivampire/i into their house after all the shit he had put them through. A reason why Nothing was even in Missing Mile in the first place. And especially, a fucking reason for why Nothing had been devouring Ghost on ihis/i fucking couch.
Steve was still frozen, his eyes the only thing still capable of movement. Nothing's shoulders drooped under Steve's hateful glare and it made him proud that despite what the boy was, he could still scare the shit out of him. Ghost, Steve noticed, was avoiding looking at him, choosing instead to stare at an old pile of books in the corner.
"Ghost?" he managed to say. Steve wanted him to look at him, tell him he was just drunk and hallucinating, or at least give him some fucking answers. "Ghost? What the hell...?"
Pale blue eyes finally met Steve's bewildered dark ones. Ghost ran a hand through his hair and all he could say was, "Shit."
That one tiny, insignificant word broke the spell Steve was under and suddenly the room was filled with the vibrations of good old pissed off Steve Finn anger. "Shit? That's all you can fucking say?" he raged. His hands unconsiously grabbed a dining room chair and threw it against the wall. Nothing jumped at the sight of the cracking, splintering wood. Ghost stood up and took a move towards the boy, his arm held out in front of him as if trying to shield Nothing.
"Stop it Steve. You need to let me explain."
Dark eyes danced wildly as Steve yelled, "Let you explain? How the ifuck/i can you explain letting that fucking ithing/i in our house after what he did? What he did to Ann and to you and what he almost let his fucking father do to me?"
Ghost's eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the emotion he could feel poring off of Steve; the anger and bitterness and guilt and betrayal. "You need to listen Steve. It's not what you think."
"How the fuck would you know what I'm thinking Ghost?" Steve continued throwing various objects at the wall, trying to vent his frustration.
"It's not his fault." Nothing took a step towards Steve, who swiveled around quickly. "I asked Ghost to let me come here. I wanted to apologize to him. To try and make up for what I did, what Zillah did."
Steve emitted a bitter laugh. "To apologize huh? Is that what you guys were doing when I walked in? Looked more like fucking to me."
Nothing's eyes dropped to the ground and Ghost blushed a little but held Steve's gaze. "It's not what you think," he repeated.
"What I think is that I need to get the fuck out of here. Away from him and away from you." Steve took long strides toward his hallway and Ghost moved to go after him.
"This is exactly why I never gave a shit about you. I don't know how you put up with it, Ghost. You are worthy of so much more than ihim/i." Nothing's words were so quiet that Steve almost missed them. He paused, ignoring Ghost's hand on his shoulder and then turned slowly.
The vibration of anger in the room had reached a deadly crescendo and Ghost's mind was reeling from Steve's rage. "Steve, leave it. We'll talk about this. I'll get rid of him. Please."
"I'll get rid of him. I'm going to fucking kill him." Steve's face was lowered, his hair covering his eyes but when he looked up, Ghost noticed he had the same look of rage Zillah had been wearing when he had attacked Steve. "I'm going to fucking kill him right here. So stay the fuck away from me, Ghost."
Steve leaned down and pulled the knife he had started to carry with him out of his boot and advanced menacingly on Nothing. "I'll kill you for being ihis/i son and a vampire. I'll kill you for Ann. And for fucking up my life. But most of all, I'll kill you for fucking ithinking/i you could lay a hand on Ghost."
Nothing had backed himself into a bookshelf and Steve raised the knife slowly. "I'll kill you and then I'll stop having those god damn nightmares. If I kill you, everything will be better."
He jerked the knife down towards Nothing's heart but staggered back in pain as a vase exploded into a thousand pieces against the top of his skull. His face was sliced wide open by the glass, his blood splattering everywhere. Nothing's chest heaved and he licked the blood off of his face eagerly. It had been awhile since he'd had a fresh meal.
Ghost's hands were raised in the air, frozen there after he had brought the vase down against Steve's head. Steve swayed momentarily and then fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Tears streamed down Ghost's cheeks as he looked at Nothing. "What did I do?" he sobbed.
"You saved me from being killed," Nothing replied nonchalantly.
Ghost sank to his knees, putting one hand on the wound to Steve's head and the other to one of the gaping cuts in his forehead. "I didn't want this to happen. I just wanted him to understand." Steve's breathing was shallow, his pulse weaker than usual. "I didn't want him to die." Ghost put his head against Steve's chest and cried for what he had done, angry that he had allowed Nothing to convince him to try the stupid trick and ashamed that he had spilled his best friend's blood.
Nothing snorted. "He'll recover just fine. A few bruises, maybe a scar and a concussion. This doesn't change anything. We're still going to go through with it Ghost. Do you understand me?"
Ghost, still sobbing, nodded weakly. He pulled back from Steve's body and caressed the bloody cheek. "I understand. For Steve."