All Nightmare Long

Chapter 1

by Rusting Angel

A/N: This fic has been assaulting me and I had to write it down. I have so many plans for this. I am still writing GOP at the same time, but I must admit I adore this fic so much more. I hope you guys enjoy it, also. Oh, and if you recognize the title and/or part of the summary... "All Nightmare Long" is a song by Metallica. I always have a special song that helps inspire me when I write, so I think it's fitting to name the fic after it as long as it works...

xoxoxoxoxo

The fast, cool breeze was a welcome relief against his overheated skin as he cruised along the suburban highway, tired eyes raised to the smooth black canvas that spread endlessly before and above him. Tiny stars were gradually being painted there by an invisible hand, flickering dimly. They could scarcely compete with the haze of artificial light and smog, complements of the city he had recently passed through. The dwindling sunset was at his back and he wondered if it was just as inadequate; maybe it was better not to know.

He sighed heavily, the sound inaudible due to the drone of his motorcycle. It was a touring bike, one specifically designed for long-distance travel that he had owned for about five years. The vehicle had proven to be much more comfortable than the one he had driven during his first few years on the road--a cheaper standard bike that had quickly gone to pieces from the strain of traveling so many miles. This particular model seemed to endure the punishment of the road with grace.

The dense treeline on either side of the road began to diminish before his eyes, giving way to fences and the homes beyond them. It was an attractive area, he observed, dotted with older homes that were maintained well and possessed a certain charm. He was imagining that if he ever settled down, it would be in a neighborhood like this--peaceful, inviting, and comfortable--when his bike sputtered, popped, and died. He angled it towards the shoulder of the road as he gradually lost momentum and coasted, cursing under his breath and thinking that he must have jinxed it. The soles of his boots met the pavement with a thud and then everything was quiet; the absence of sound felt unnatural.

Scowling, he put the bike in neutral and firmly pressed the starter button, willing the engine to purr to life. Nothing. The battery wasn't the culprit because his lights had been working fine and now, testing the horn, it did not sound abnormal--he wished the problem was a faulty battery; it would have been an easy fix. He rose to his feet and attempted to push it, noting that it rolled forward easily. At least the rear brakes, drive line, and transmission gears were in working order. But that wasn't of much help when the starter didn't catch.

Mumbling another swear, he angrily brushed long bangs out of his eyes and wiped sweat from his brow with a jacket sleeve. He hastily scanned his surroundings and focused on the nearest house which was nestled in a thicket of trees several feet from the main road. From here he could just make out a light, presumably a porch light, and hoped that someone helpful was home. He was more than prepared to be turned away by whoever answered the door; most people didn't take kindly to strangers approaching their homes after dark--especially ones that looked like him. He couldn't blame them, but surely someone would be willing to let him work in their driveway and possibly use a few tools.

He straddled the motorcycle again, figuring that it would be easier to control this way, and pushed with his feet. Thankfully this area was rolling with hills and he was at a higher elevation than the house he intended to visit so he was nearly able to coast the entire way, guided by the occasional street light. The night sounds suddenly flooded his ears as he neared the houses, the majority of which were surrounded by an appealing array of trees, plants and flowers. Crickets chirped distantly, chorusing along with the buzz of various other insects.

Now that he was merely yards away he swept his gaze over the property curiously. There was an abundant willow tree out front that served to obscure the front of the house, at least from this vantage point. Pink and yellow wildflowers danced merrily around an unremarkable white mailbox and lush green shrubbery bordered a nicely manicured lawn. Numerous birch trees towered around the house as well, separating it from the other residences and allowing plenty of privacy.

Dismounting the bike he steered it past the mailbox and up the winding driveway, which curved around behind the willow tree and led to a small garage. The house, now that he could finally see it, was inviting in its simplicity. It was a modest two-story brick place with a homey front porch, sparsely decorated with a couple of potted plants and another dusting of wildflowers.

A delicate wind chime jingled when the breeze shyly tickled it, but other than that, no sounds emanated from the dwelling. The driveway was also void of a vehicle and he wondered if anyone was home after all. Sighing, he left his bike near the garage and brushed off his jeans as he followed the gravel pathway to the front porch. Intentionally he tread more heavily than usual and allowed his boots to thump audibly on the wooden steps; he didn't want to sneak up on anyone who might be home.

When he reached the door, a wooden one with three intricate stained glass panels in the center, he rang the bell and attempted to look somewhat presentable. He knew he inevitably looked like Hell; he had been riding for six hours straight with the wind in his hair and although it was braided, it was still messy. He had showered the night before when he stopped to rest at a motel but the sensation of cleanliness didn't last long in this heat. That kind of thing was a luxury when he was traveling, anyway.

Just when he was about to leave and try his luck at the next house, he heard a lock click and the knob turned. The door opened marginally and one vivid blue eye peered out at him through the tiny space. Then the gap widened a bit more and she--it was definitely a woman; no man had eyelashes that long--seemed to consider him momentarily before speaking.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely, smooth and sweet. She sounded not the slightest bit intimidated by his appearance but her stance behind the door betrayed her. Like she was ready to slam and bolt it the second he said or did anything she deemed suspicious. She was probably the only one home.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. My motorcycle broke down." He spoke softly and met her eyes, hoping to put her at ease. She seemed somewhat less tense when he offered a slight smile. "I just need to borrow your driveway and a light for an hour or two if you don't mind."

"Oh no, where is it?" He was stunned to silence--due to her naivete as much as her raw beauty--when she stepped completely outside, shutting the door behind her and smiling up at him cordially. She was clad in blue jeans with a casual shirt and her face was pale and flawless, adorned with luminous blue eyes and framed by a thick mane of ebony hair. "One of my good friends is a mechanic. I can call him over to take a look at it if you want."

"Ah, well," he faltered, still taken aback at how willingly she trusted him. He led the way to his bike as he spoke, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don't want to cause any trouble. I'd rather try to repair it myself before I bother someone else with it."

"Don't worry about it," she said reassuringly, standing next to him when they reached the bike. The glossy paint shone softly beneath the moonlight, almost appearing blue instead of black, and chrome hardware reflected the night sky. "Wow, it's really nice. So what happened?"

"The engine quit in the middle of the road and now it won't start," he explained simply and demonstrated for her. Just as before, nothing happened when he hit the starter switch. "I know it's not the battery. Maybe a blown fuse... I need to do some troubleshooting."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here for the night. I have a guest bedroom downstairs," she offered with a kind smile. Blue-black bangs scattered across her face in the breeze. "You look tired."

"That's very generous of you," he replied honestly, returning the smile. Then his expression changed, eyes narrowing slightly. "But you don't know anything about me. You shouldn't trust strangers so easily."

"I'm a good judge of character," she claimed, looking somewhat offended. She crossed her arms and leveled him with a mild blue glare. "And you shouldn't scold strangers that offer you a place to stay."

"I wasn't scolding you." He smirked then, amused by the facets of her personality. She was a genuinely kind, hospitable--and yes, naive--young woman, but there was a temper lurking beneath that lovely exterior. He had an inkling that getting on her bad side wasn't a pleasant experience. "I'm just concerned, that's all. Women like you get taken advantage of."

"What do you mean, women like me?" The testy look in her eyes warned that he was going to regret it if he answered incorrectly.

"Women that care for others before they care for themselves," he responded candidly, watching carefully for her reaction. She didn't meet his gaze for what seemed like an eternity, and he had a feeling that he had read her too well in such a short span of time.

"I just like to help people." She finally met his eyes again, looking strangely melancholy for a moment before plastering a smile on her face. "So are you going to come in or not? You can put your bike in the garage."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose," he said sincerely. When she merely shot him an exasperated look, he chuckled lightly and threw his hands up in defeat. "Well at least let me introduce myself first. I'm Kenshin."

"Nice to meet you, Kenshin. I'm Kaoru," she replied pleasantly and extended her hand. They clasped hands briefly and then she turned away, raising the garage door.

What he assumed to be her vehicle, a small blue four-door, was parked on the left. He easily rolled his bike alongside it and opened a surprisingly large compartment beneath the seat, removing a black bag that contained everything he owned. He followed her in through the back door that connected the garage to the house, pausing as she hit a button to close the garage door. Then she led him through the plain laundry room, a decidedly well-equipped kitchen, and into a cozy living area.

"That's the room," she informed him, pointing to a white door near the stairway. "There's a private bathroom back there, too. Friends stay with me pretty often so it's always ready for guests."

"Thank you very much," he said respectfully, nodding to her. "I really appreciate this."

"You're welcome... it's not a problem," she smiled. Then she made her way towards the stairs, hesitating on the bottom step. "Anyway, make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything."

He watched shortly as she disappeared upstairs, then abruptly realized how exhausted he truly was. Yawning, he carried his bag into the guest room and dropped it at the foot of the bed. The room was decorated in varying shades of green, furnished with a modest double bed, a dresser, and a single lounge chair. The bathroom was slightly cramped but included a walk-in shower, much to his relief. Not even a comfortable bed sounded as inviting as a warm shower at that moment.

Eagerly he stripped away every stitch of clothing and released his hair from its messy braid, yanking the lengthy red strands over his shoulder to brush them out. He stepped into the shower when he was finally satisfied with the absence of tangles and relished the warm water. Leaning his head against the cool tile, he relaxed as the rivulets cascaded down the length of his body and soaked his hair, scrubbing and washing until he felt entirely clean again.

When he eventually stepped out of the shower and dried himself, he was fighting to stay awake. He tugged on a pair of black boxers and halfheartedly dried his hair with a towel before practically collapsing on the bed, sighing into the crisp white linen. He barely managed to tug the sheets around him before he drifted off.

xoxoxoxoxo

Kaoru had only been asleep for what felt like five minutes when her eyes startled open, darting around in confusion. She sat there for several moments and held her breath, straining her ears. There it was again--a noise downstairs, or was it outside? It was difficult to ascertain with her heart pounding in her ears.

Sliding to the floor she hesitated and curled her bare toes into the carpet, tilting her head in an attempt to hear better. The sound taunted her again and her heartbeat increased briefly before she took a deep breath and calmed herself. She despised her fear but she still wasn't accustomed to being in her own house alone. It was far too big for one person.

Kenshin, her mind suddenly supplied and she collapsed back onto her bed with a sigh of relief. So she wasn't by herself tonight after all. He was probably still awake; maybe he couldn't sleep or something. He was an interesting guy... polite, although you'd never know it by looking at him, especially with that jagged scar on his cheek. And the way he spoke had thoroughly surprised her almost as much as his unique coloring. She couldn't help but wonder where he was headed. Traveling on his own like that had to be desperately lonely.

She tossed her head to glance at her alarm clock then, eyes narrowing as she realized how late it actually was--nearly three o'clock in the morning. If he was up at this hour, what could he possibly be doing? Swallowing, she crept to her feet and mentally shoved away the possibility that she had misjudged him. She silently unlocked her bedroom door and slipped through it, pausing at the top of the stairs before shuffling her way down them.

Relieved when she reached the floor without making a sound, she hastily scanned the dark living room with wary eyes. Nothing appeared to be out of place, although the guest room door was open so she doubted Kenshin was sleeping. Nibbling her bottom lip and willing herself to be brave, she tip-toed towards the front door with the intention of glancing out of the small window next to it.

She had just reached it when a warm hand clamped over her mouth and a powerful arm encircled her waist from behind, jerking her away from the window. She gasped, or tried to, struggling in vain when her back pressed against what felt distinctly like a bare chest. A horrified chill rippled through her and she went rigid when she felt her captor's breath puff near her ear.

"Shh," the voice whispered urgently and as the grip on her waist loosened, several damp strands of ruby-toned hair slithered over her shoulder. She vaguely felt her own hands shaking with anger instead of fear now that she registered who was behind her. "I'll let go, but be quiet."

"What the Hell are you doing?" Kaoru whipped around as soon as he released her, fire blazing in her eyes as she whispered harshly. He was closer than she realized and their faces ended up a hairsbreadth apart; she could have sworn he had purple eyes before but she was too irate to wonder about it. "You can't just sneak up on me and grab me--"

"Hush," he warned again, and she felt her blood boil. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when he pressed a rough finger to her lips and explained quietly, his voice a husky whisper. "There are two men with guns outside. I suggest that you calm down unless you want to attract their attention."

"What?" Her facial expression immediately shifted from enraged to incredulous and she whirled toward the window again, only to feel him grab her hand and yank her backwards.

"Don't," he commanded sternly, locking his eyes on hers. She nearly trembled with the force of his intense gaze. "They'll see you. Go upstairs and stay there."

"Not until you tell me what's going on," she insisted, swatting his hand away and crossing her arms over her chest. He shot her a warning glance and she lowered her voice. "Are those men after you?"

"No, I'm sure they're after your valuables," he replied matter-of-factly, alert eyes scanning the front of the house as he spoke. "They're either very brave, or very stupid and they don't realize anyone is home."

"So why haven't you called the cops then?" she asked skeptically and attempted to read his expression in the dark. The only light streamed in through a nearby window and it was hardly substantial; besides his eyes, she could scarcely see anything but the jeans that rode low on his hips and the outline of his chest.

"I have," he responded, watchful eyes continuing to survey his surroundings. "But it may be a while before they arrive. Stay upstairs until this is over."

"I'm not going anywhere," she retorted irritably. Who did he think he was? She wasn't some damsel in distress who needed rescuing. "I'm not scared."

"Kaoru," he threatened, red eyebrows furrowing slightly as he took a step toward her. His voice was demanding yet eerily calm and she suddenly found it difficult to defy him. She suspected that he was even more stubborn than she was on her worst days.

She was teetering on the edge of surrender when a gunshot rang out and the nearest window promptly burst, dissolving into thousands of irregular glittering shards. Her limbs were rendered useless; she was too petrified to move, and then a shock of loose red hair filled her vision and she realized Kenshin was standing in front of her like a shield.

"Upstairs; lock yourself in," he breathed without facing her, and her eyes hazily registered the pistol at his side before she scrambled up the stairs.

There was a flurry of motion and then she was in her room with the door bolted shut, gripping an old rifle so tightly that her fingers turned white. It had been her father's and he had taught her how to use it for her own protection, though they had both hoped she would never need to. Even now, when the reality hit her that she might actually have to employ the device, the thought sickened her. She had never, would never condone killing under any circumstances. And yet she wondered, if it came down to it, would she allow someone to take her life instead?

Steeling herself she crept closer to the door and leaned her head next to it, attempting to sense what was going on. It was unpleasantly quiet; she couldn't hear a thing. She shuddered involuntarily and slid down the wall, praying silently that Kenshin wouldn't be harmed. But she couldn't allow him to kill anyone, either--especially not on her deceased parents' property! They would have been so upset.

Rising shakily to her feet again, the rifle remaining at her side, she inhaled sharply and prepared to open the door. Two more gunshots fired off before she could even turn the lock, sounding much further away than she expected--behind the house, maybe, but it was hard to know for sure. Trembling, she was finally able to breathe again when the next sound she heard was that of approaching sirens. Please don't let anyone be dead, please--

She jumped when she heard a sound beyond her door, then nearly sobbed with relief when Kenshin called her name from the stairway. Hastily she threw open the door and raked her eyes over him, half-expecting to see blood blossoming on his chest but there were no signs of harm. He had thrown on a black t-shirt, she noticed, but otherwise nothing was different.

"What happened?" she gasped out, gripping her door frame for support. "You didn't kill them, did you, Kenshin...?"

"I shot them, but I didn't kill them," he replied slowly, almost expressionless. He looked calmer than she thought possible; his eyes weren't turbulent like earlier. "The police are taking them into custody right now."

"You're not hurt?" she asked then, concern evident in her voice. She exhaled softly when he shook his head in response. "Do the police have to speak with me?"

"No, it's up to you," he said, and his lavender eyes suddenly looked so gentle. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," she murmured. She could almost feel the energy draining out of her body but highly doubted that sleep would take her again tonight. "But I'd rather not talk to them right now. You told them everything, right?"

"Of course," he reassured her softly, his gaze unwavering.

"I'm so sorry, Kenshin," she gasped suddenly and stood, eyes watering as realization hit her. "You had to go through this on my account. It must have been horrible."

"It's not your fault." His reply was so intense, so stern, that she nearly backed away from him. But then his tone softened again and he added, "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to feel guilty. There is no need to apologize to me."

"Thank you, then," she said sincerely. "I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here..."

"Probably invite them in," he teased gently, and she sensed that he was trying to make light of the situation, not insult her.

"Maybe," she mumbled, sulking. When he remained silent she rubbed her eyes and commented, "I'm not going to be able to sleep again. I'm too wound up."

"Well, try. I'm going to board up the broken window for the night. I'll replace the glass for you tomorrow."

"Oh, you don't have to--"

"It's the least I can do to repay your kindness."

She merely nodded then, knowing that he wouldn't change his mind. Then she watched as he turned away and headed back down the stairs. He was a nice person, albeit mysterious, and she thought she might be sad to see him go once he fixed his motorcycle. He was her last thought before she eventually drifted to sleep.

xoxoxoxoxo

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Please review! Oh, how I love reviews. And I'm not saying anything, but there might be something about Kenshin... Teehee. You'll see later. This is going to get really interesting; I promise. And if I got any motorcycle-related stuff wrong, sorry--I had to research that stuff because I personally know nothing about it. I didn't even know that newer models use buttons instead of kick-starts, haha.