lyrics/mumfordsons/after

watch?v=EMsTSdHIJds

It's probably best if you follow these links if you don't know the song already. It's After The Storm (capitalised because it's just so lovely) by Mumford and Sons. And yeah. This just arrived in my head so I figured I'd share. Oh, and I've used some of the ideas from the sample chapter on Rachel Caine's website, so a) spoilers, b) disclaimer and c) you should probably read that first if you haven't already.

The song doesn't fit with the story so much as listening to it will put your head in the right place, and I've used some of the ideas; just warning you.

Again, I don't really do one-shots very often, so advice and criticism are actually kind of needed. So review, dearies. :D

Claire ran through the streets, her breath puffing out in short, quick pants; a small sign of insignificant life in burning town.

And Morganville was burning. The heat of it threaded through the air, wrapping thick, heavy fingers around everything nearby. In a town that was darker than most, the light blazed fiercer than the day, and twice as deadly; because now both sides were at risk. Figures ran like shadows through the smoke, almost part of the flames themselves. Claire couldn't tell who they were. She only heard the shouts, and screams, and even those only occasionally. No one was stopping to help anyone they didn't know.

Claire had lost Shane and Eve. She'd followed them through the smoke and ash of the Daylight Foundation's main building until the ceiling had collapsed in front of her. A shouted conversation through the rubble and roar of the flames that had started licking along the dry wooden floorboards towards her had her turning back. Shane had promised her that he'd keep Michael and Eve safe. She had to believe him. She had to.

But that wasn't all she had gone in for. The Daylight Foundation was nothing if it wasn't thorough, and they'd put every vampire in that building. Amelie. Oliver. Jesse. Myrnin. If Claire couldn't get in, she could help the ones who got out.

She just hoped that some of them had gotten out.

No one knew who'd started the fire. Claire was inclined to believe that it wasn't the Foundation themselves- not the official ones anyway. No, it was likely some drunk with a grudge; Claire knew all too well that it was what Frank Collins would have done, were he alive to see it, and Morganville was full of people who were just the same. Prejudiced. As she forced her lungs to co-operate and her tired, aching legs to carry her around to the side of the building, the nearest exit to any of the vampires in the main rooms, Claire tried not to think about what she'd do if there was nobody there. Because Shane and Eve were inside right now, and all the exits were blocked.

This side of the building, originally a part of Founder's Square, was a row of small office rooms with large, old fashioned bay windows, looking out on a thin lawn of grass lined with trees. The grass that had been so carefully tended in Amelie's time was now scorched and browning, littered with shards of glass that reflected the flames like frozen, flickering sparks. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't so deadly.

Thick black smoke, stinking with fumes of molten plastic and other, more unpleasant smells, billowed from a couple of the higher windows, the lower ones only just now beginning to catch alight. Black shapes lurked behind the flaming curtains, and Claire's heart lurched with every one of them, before they faded back into the rest; another cruel trick of the fire.

But one of them didn't. A figure that moved too quickly to be human darted towards one of the windows before jerking with a cry that was lost to the roar of the flames, and crumpling, halfway out, caught and seemingly unconscious.

Claire didn't hesitate. She didn't think, just darted forwards, grabbing the body by the fabric of their coat and trying to tug them free. She didn't look at who they were. She didn't dare, not until she knew if they were alive.

The dead-weight of the body was heavy, and Claire struggled to yank it inch by inch, batting away the flames that flared from the ruined curtains and cursing the jagged glass that seemed to reach out and grip to the material of the coat that was the only reason they were still alive. The coat, thick, almost shiny material, drenched through with some form of liquid, but still burnt out in several places, had kept off most of the heat, but the fire was patient, and it was close. And Claire wasn't going to be able to outrun it on her own.

A crash managed to break through the never ending scream of the flames; a cloud of thicker, fouler smoke engulfed her, and forced tears to her eyes, attacking her throat with singular purpose. The fire was almost its own creature now, and it was angry.

The body twitched once, Claire's only warning before it lurched into movement, half leaping, half falling out of the window and twirling Claire away in what was almost a graceful manoeuvre before collapsing drunkenly to the ground in a heap. A blast of singeing air and glass splinters sent her sprawling on the glass alongside her rescuer as a different ground floor window blew out, and the ceiling of the one she'd stood in front of collapsed.

Tears stung her eyes again, but this time it wasn't because of the smoke. Shane was in there. So was Eve, and Michael. And she wasn't with them.

The vampire beside her was breathing. His body twitched and jerked, and he was so covered with soot and dirt that Claire didn't recognise him for a moment.

"Claire, the collar-" Myrnin broke off with a hiss of pain as another jolt of electricity coursed through him from the awful collar still attached around his neck. Claire remembered the bolt cutters Shane had given her in the pocket of her jacket and vaguely wondered how they'd managed without them. She refused to even think that perhaps they hadn't made it that far.

Myrnin's POV (start playing the song here, if you want. It may make a little bit more sense that way ;) )

The collar was made to be vampire proof, and Claire was exhausted and not all that strong anyway so it took a couple of minutes of Myrnin lying rigid with agony as Claire desperately tried to sever at least the wire that carried the current. She was falling into shock, so focused on the task in front of her that she didn't notice Myrnin's eyes on her face, clinging to the harsh reality so that he didn't lapse into the terrible, terrible fear that was being trapped in that room. He'd killed people tonight, and the weight of it sat heavily, because they weren't all of them guards. He dug his fingers into blessedly cool earth and watched Claire as she tried; always she tried, to free him again from hell.

Finally, the pain stopped; a sudden cessation of the infernal jolts that spasmed in his muscles and ricocheted up his nerves was a relief he hadn't dared to hope for. The strength left him immediately, and he wanted to just melt into the cool earth that was beneath him. But he couldn't. Claire, her task complete was trying to stand, to stagger back towards the burning building that held her friends. He couldn't let her do that.

Myrnin reached out for her hand, his eyes focussing on the ruined building, the embers of its contents drifting out almost lazily ahead of the creeping flames. It was a storm of hellfire, and he had to run. The dark night behind him felt like a cool shower of rain compared to the thunderous crackling roaring flames before him. Claire was trying faintly to pull away from him. He could see the dead glint in her eyes, the knowledge that her friends couldn't survive that. He saw what it was doing to her, and it was terrible.

So he ran. And he took Claire with him.

He ran from the blackened, twisted forms of the buildings, the people, and the whole town of Morganville. He ran until the ruined, chaotic streets, full of shouts and wails and cries, gave way to the blissful, silence of the desert. Claire lay numbly in his arms as he slowed; she'd stopped struggling against him a long time ago. He listened to her slow, gentle breaths. She wasn't crying. Not yet. He stopped. Grains of sand brushed against each other in the slight breeze, a rain-like rustle that was the only other sound.

Myrnin gently set her down, watching her glazed eyes rise to the skies behind him. She was sooty and broken, and staring, shivering, at the black smoke hovering like a thunderhead over Morganville, the flames reflecting a hellish, orange glow like a city damned.

So he did the only thing he could. He knelt beside her, gently wrapping his sodden, battered coat around her shoulders, and held her shaking form as they both watched the life they'd known burn to cinders. They, two of the few who saw the life in Morganville, watched as it decayed into itself, destroyed by its own.

He sat there, with Claire so broken and lost beside him, he thought about the past. He was injured, almost delirious with pain, but it was nothing to how it had been, so it was tolerable. He was thirsty, he noted absently, but he couldn't, wouldn't, give in to that urge. Claire was here. And his little bird was all he had left now. The now acknowledged, ever the more so present burn in his eyes and throat made it harder to think, but he forced himself to focus. Not my mind. I cannot, will not lose myself. He couldn't allow that rotten, fouled part of himself to take hold. Not now. Not here.

"They're gone." Claire whispered, and her voice finally held the grief that had been missing from her eyes. The emotions that filled her with life that was sometimes almost too bright for her own good were back, and oh, how she glowed with them. Even the grief for the lost things shone out of her like a beacon in the dark. His beacon.

Myrnin gently took her hand in his, feeling the warmth and steady pulse that jolted through him with every beat of her heart. She'd come back for him. Resolve flooded through him and he stood up, dragging Claire to upright with him, steadying her with a hand on her waist when she wavered. She looked at him questioningly, but she was wholly there, wholly present with him. He finally understood a little the way Claire felt about him when he was nearing his worst.

"We'll remember them, Claire." Gently squeezing her hand and leaning his head against hers. "Yes, they are gone from us but you can always hold on to the memory of them." He whispered, admiring her all the more for how steady she was, how strong. He who had seen and lost all of himself at one time or another already let go far more easily than someone as young as she was.

"I should have stayed with them."

Myrnin pulled back, holding her face gently in his hands and looking directly into her eyes. Even from this distance there was a faint orange glow from the flames, a shadow of her pain illuminating her features. She looked older than she should, grief adding wisdom and loss to her expressive eyes. Fierce emotion welled up in Myrnin's chest. He hadn't liked her friends, but someone had taken them from her. As they had taken his. He had no doubt that most would have perished in the fire. It had been the purpose of it, after all. But the thought of Claire, small and scared, running through the flames of that blackened building as he had scared him. Because he knew how it felt to know that you couldn't escape, and that, at any second, the fire might just kill you. He couldn't wish that on Claire.

The clouds above them let loose the first torrent of rain; a sudden downfall that slapped straight and heavy against them, soaking them through to the skin, the bone, in seconds. It was the kind of rain that summoned the flash floods out here in the desert but neither Myrnin nor Claire feared that. It wasn't burning.

The water was cold, and Claire was shivering, but they didn't move. Myrnin closed his eyes, drawing Claire closer and sinking to his knees with her as they felt on the skin something that was too little, too late. Claire leaned her head against Myrnin's shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck and let her tears mix in with the rain, and his own.

"They didn't die for nothing Claire. You'll see that, in time." Myrnin knew that she was listening to him, though she gave no sign of it. He continued anyway, absently stroking her hair. "Shane went into that fire because he needed to. Because he needed to save your friend. He loved you." Even though he was saying it, and knew that it was true, the words seemed empty. How much had he really loved her, if he'd abandoned her? Enough to make sure she was safe, first, his mind informed him. Myrnin knew that that was also true.

"I promise I won't leave you, Claire." He whispered. He knew she'd understood when her silent tears turned into sobs, and she held him tighter. He tugged the coat around her, covering her fully, and the pair of them sat in the rain.

There was nothing left to say. Myrnin knew that time would never fix her wholly, but she wouldn't be broken forever. There would come a time when Claire would laugh again. There would be a day when she'd smile again.

And Myrnin had made a promise. He would never leave her as they had done.

Okay, so I started this ages ago, and then the book actually came out, so I never published it. But I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway, and please leave a review. I haven't been online in positively ages, so hi to all the new people