All characters belong to S.M.

Weary

PPOV

"Circle circle, dot dot (uh-huh) I got my cootie shot (uh-huh) You think that girl is hot? (uh-huh) I think I'd rather not,"

"Peter, I swear to God..." I'd always really enjoyed seein' just how far I could push my mate.. I chuckled darkly and tilted my hat back an inch to get a good look at her through the front window of our cabin.

"Somethin' wrong with Jamie Kennedy, mi amor?"

"Not if you're TRYING to kill brain cells." She called back with an air of amusement, letting a smirk touch her beautiful features.

The warm summer breeze whipped acrossed my granite skin and momentarily warmed me. I stood at a post of the fence surroundin' our land, fastening a loose beam to the post with wire I'd found in the old barn that'd come with the property- thankfully, most of the tools needed to keep the place came complimentary.

(Like the mints they put on your pillows at nicer hotels..) My gift commented.

Sorta. Except you only pay a few hundred dollars for that mint. I paid hundreds of thousands for this wire and that damn hammer that keeps fallin' apart...

I hadn't twisted the wire into a knot yet when it felt like all of the air around me tightened, like the sealin' of a jar. My thought processes suddenly went in a million directions at once, thoroughly over-extendin' even my mad ninja skills of thinkin'. I shuddered with a moan of pain and slipped to my knees with a "fwump" of dirt that scattered; my palms clenched the soil harshly.

(She will be HIS..)

"Pete?" My wife's startled voice was closer to me than it had been before so I knew she'd seen me fall, but my gift had me fixed on the gravel road about a mile out from our cabin. (SHE is his as he has been hers for his entire lifetime. SHE will tear apart demons and nightmares and the Devil himself for HIM and all will know...) I watched, transfixed, as a petite brown-haired girl took crooked steps north on the road. North was a dead end, and that was what confused me more than her even being out here. Her sort-of brown eyes held death in them, and the sweat on her brow was tainted with somethin' I hadn't pinpointed in the seconds since her scent hit my nostrils. (No room for error. Bite, push. Bite... push. Venom heals even the deepest wounds.) Her slender frame was all woman, but looked as fragile as the porcelain Char had kept from our human lives.

".. kiss me mother... kiss your darlin'.." her voice was broken and raspy as she sang out in time to her steps, ".. see the pain upon my brow, while I'll soon be with the angels... fate has doomed my future now.."

Charlote was taking deliberately placed, small steps to my side as not to draw attention from the poor girl; She'd not layed a hand on me and I was on my own feet and makin' my way towards the reason for my stumble. (No room for error.)

"Through the years you've always loved me and my life you've tried to save... " Her very essence was cracking and crumblin' into pieces smaller than the dust on the road, and I couldn't stop my feet from making longer, faster steps to keep her from shattering, "... but now I shall slumber sweetly... in a deep and... in a deep..."

I stopped when she did, noticing they cat-like way her muscles tensed and her hair stood on end. I wished to God I could be but a blade of grass along the ground as she turned her molten eyes on my form. Recognition, disbelief, and...

"FUCKIN' SPARKLING VAMPIRES, MAN! You know what?" She spun her figure to towards me faster than I'd ever seen a human move, "I'm sick of you glittery-assed mother fuckers showing up in the oddest places. First Forks, the asshole of the country- and near a reservation of WOLVES no-less, and now El Paso! Can I ask you a question? You have a mate, I'm assuming that's her there?"

I'd been so confused as FUCK at her outburst that I hadn't even taken in the information she provided, nor was I ready to answer a question, but my 'gift' decided to answer with a nod anyways. Asshole.

"Let's say you pissed the wrong nomad off, and he or she wanted vengence against you. Would you willingly leave your mate alone, with no form of protection?" She'd placed her hands on her hips and jutted one out to the side for extra measure. I was near that point of laughing innappropriately, but decided to answer first.

"That would be a 'fuck no.' Even 'no fucking way in hell' for good measure." I shrunk into myself slightly at the shade of red her face was turnin', (Is it possible for a human's flesh to pop when too much pressure is built up beneath it?)... "But that's just me. I mean.. I ain't been near anyone but Char and my meals in a good thirty years so... my opinion might be biased.."

She hissed lowly at me and crossed her thin little arms over her puffed out chest. I couldn't help the twitch of my lips, but I managed to keep my giggle internal.

"So, Mr..." I smiled and tipped my hat at her.

"Whitlock."

"No shit? Wouldn't happen to know a Jasper Whitlock, would you?" She closed her eyes momentarily before lookin' at me, her eyes unsure and spacey. I nodded oddly and took a step forward.

"Yeah... He's family of s.. of sorts. Um, not to be rude, but you look like you just ate somethin' kin to skunk. You feelin' alright dollface?" I watched as her knees wobbled and her already sullen face took on a lucidity that surpassed alabaster.

"Forgot. Truck's on 180, glove box ate my pez dispenser..." And with a surprising grace, her form went limp. I watched the slow-motion of every inch she fell, as the change in pressure in her joints released near-silent whisps of air; a breath flooded from within her lungs, gravity laid her gently in my arms.

(The tiniest firework often times has the loudest bang..)