This is an AU fic, set within Ghost Town. Shane does not forget Claire.
I don't own anything
For Danielle.
No matter what he's faced, Shane Collins has never felt afraid of death. He has never, when facing an adversary who could quite easily destroy him, felt his heartbeat increase, found himself begging for the death to be quick and painless, to allow him to move into whatever happens next without prolonged pain – he's never had the cause to. Every time he's faced death, he's won…and this isn't something that's particularly brilliant for his self preservation meter, for it allows him to think that he's able to destroy any competition.
He's been lucky: for eighteen and a half years, he's been able to destroy anyone who has opposed him – usually not physically, but more along the lines of that they'll never mess with him again. Even vampires have been scared of him, aware that his Father has taught him everything that he needs to know in order to destroy them. He's virtually untouchable.
That is, of course, until his brashness becomes too much for him, and he's up against a competing opponent, one who wants rid of him at all costs.
It's not that Myrnin loves Claire; he adores Ada, and he always has done, even before he knew her, he thinks. There is nothing but a platonic relationship between Myrnin and Claire, the alchemist and the apprentice, two people perfectly suited to one another for the present day – Myrnin sharing the ancient knowledge, whilst Claire applies it in a new manner that he has never considered before. And yet there's always been the flickering in Shane's mind that there is something more between Myrnin and Claire, that it's like Sam and Amelie, two people who ought to have only done business together, and yet ended up in an irrevocable state of complete and utter adoration.
And so, as Shane runs through the darkened tunnels that snake their way through the underground of Morganville, he feels no fear: he's been bred to use any possible weaknesses within him as fuel to drive him onwards, as a motivation to reach his goal, in order to destroy whatever enemy lies in wait there.
(Though maybe tonight, it would have been a better idea to stay and home and try and tell Claire that she does know him, she does, and that they need to be together to understand how their relationship works.)
There's no light guiding his way as he uses instinct to tell him when he's nearing a wall, so needs to move left, or the tunnel narrows to the point that he has to turn onto one side to be able to navigate his way through safely – though there's probably no point, since he knows where he's going to end up.
He's after the vampire boss, the one whose machine has caused everyone to forget their lives, as though the past few months have gone by in just a second; he's made Amelie forget that Sam died, made Claire forget where she is, and created a feeling of widespread panic across the entire town. He's after the one who has caused everything to change in the town, to instil a fear that comes from rooted deep within: no vampire other than Myrnin can be blamed for this, for creating the strongest haze of fear, of looking around corners to ensure that memoirs from the past aren't coming back to haunt you, and, for this, Shane hates Myrnin more than ever. He's despised him for months, of course, but when the vampire is affecting the lives of his friends, then he's concerned.
Unfortunately, Shane doesn't remember that it's Myrnin who he's going to fight, that Myrnin was the first one to be affected by the memory loss, and he's under the impression that Ada is still alive. He's more deadly and ferocious than ever before, something which ought to send shockwaves through Shane, even with his increased self-confidence: there's no beating Myrnin today, not even a chance of running away, and Shane should probably have said his goodbyes already.
He's too cocky. He's of the belief that his skills are greater than those of a centuries old vampire – and maybe, under normal circumstances, he'd be right. Maybe, he'd be able to destroy Myrnin, or at least incapacitate him, and then things would be equal between them. But not today. There's a raw strength in Myrnin that's been brought out by the feral need to protect Ada, to not let one single other person near her, for fear that they'll destroy her. The anger and insanity in his eyes, merely one hundred metres from Shane at the minute, show that there is absolutely no chance that any intruder – perhaps excepting Amelie – would be able to escape this cavernous room, once he wants them here.
Shane runs: he runs directly towards Myrnin and he doesn't know it, because there's nothing guiding his way. His hands are filled with weapons that he's never going to get a chance to use, his pocket containing the one possible light source in his mobile phone, that he's never going to use. There's nothing to inform him when he's entered his final destination, nothing whatsoever.
Not until there's a flick of a switch, and the modern side to the room is revealed, as artificial light shines down from regular points in the ceiling.
"Well, well, well," Myrnin purrs, the hunter in him determined to destroy this intruder, to keep his home safe as best he can, because he needs to protect Ada. After all, she's in a box, isn't she? He put her there…it's the least he can do to protect her from harm, to give her his blood and allow their bond to be as strong as possible, because he loves her so dearly.
As Shane stands opposite Myrnin and spies the manic nature to his eyes, he's beginning to realise that he's made a mistake coming here – or, at least, coming here without informing anyone where he was going, or saying goodbye. There's a sense that he knows that this will be a fight to the death – and with Myrnin's current mental state of mind, it could end up being shorter and more unfair than he ever anticipated.
"Oh look, it's the psychotic vampire who thinks that talking to a box, which doesn't contain Ada any longer, is normal," Shane sneers in his usual fashion, never going to go down without a quip that can be eternally remembered. Or, it could if Myrnin ever told anyone that he killed Shane and recollected it.
Myrnin's face twists into anger, his eyes automatically darting back to the silhouette of the black box in the far corner of the room, the one time home of his darling, now the cause of every problem within Morganville. "It's a little boy, come to his death. Did those other brats not inform you that I will kill anyone who tries to hurt my Ada? They tried, oh, they tried, boy; they wanted to rip her from the wall and destroy the love of my life. But they didn't manage, did they?"
It's in this moment that Shane knows that there's no possibility that he's leaving here alive: he knew before, he thinks, but it wasn't confirmed until just now, when Myrnin proved just how crazy he is. He's never going to let him leave, never not going to avenge the apparent "attempted murder" of someone who doesn't even exist – and yet Shane may as well go down with a fight.
He decides not to say a word, theorising that if he launches straight into an attack, the vampire who seems as though he's more than slightly preoccupied by dreaming of the non-existent woman, may not realise his intentions. So Shane shifts the stake in his left hand, in order to have a better grip upon it, and charges forwards within the same second, not even pausing for breath as he lifts the stake at a most dangerous angle.
Unfortunately for him, Myrnin is much stronger and faster than himself, and there's absolutely no chance he could ever have attacked from the front, even when the elderly vampire's thoughts were engaged elsewhere. Myrnin's hand shoots up and twists Shane's hand away sharply, keeping a hold of it until there's the unmistakeable sound of bones crunching together in a horrendously painful manner.
It's all Shane can do not to yell out in pain, because this hurts; it hurts more than anything he's ever done before, and that includes being attacked by vampires and stabbed by Eve's brother. His hand instantly releases the sharpened stake from its grasp, and it thuds to the earth covered floor in a muted manner, yet neither of them notice it. They're staring into one another's eyes, realising that Shane's ready to die now, and that Myrnin's insane enough to do it – and to draw it out. After all, he's a medieval vampire; he's used to torture techniques, even if there is no purpose behind them, and, as the vampire twists his wrist further for no reason other than to cause pain, Shane's sure that he will.
This won't be an easy departure, he's sure, and there's no way that he's ever going to be able to explain to Claire how it happened. Because he'll be dead – of course.
Myrnin throws him across the cave room, grinning with sadistic pleasure as his human arch-enemy's front collides painfully with the wall on the far side of the room; it took no effort to throw him there – in fact, this is barely the opening act.
Myrnin's mind drives him to think that Ada is there, that Ada is telling him to kill the boy, to do it slowly, so he decides to act on her orders; he loves her, he trusts her, so why wouldn't he do as she desires?
As he approaches Shane, there's a sinister edge to the smile his lips curl into, a sense that he knows what is coming to Shane, and only he can control it. There's a beat of time when they're both standing still, Shane clutching his broken wrist, staring at one another with equal determination: Shane won't let himself be broken down by what's happening, and Myrnin will carry out his love's orders.
.
And so it begins.
In the beginning, it's almost a game of cat and mouse – but, naturally, it's controlled by the cat. Myrnin lets Shane move swiftly between the walls of the cave, following at a leisurely pace, his eyes showing the amusement he feels as he does so. Sometimes, he reaches out and taps the human boy's shoulder, watching with a sick sense of elation as Shane jumps up and increases his speed a tad more, uttering profanities under his breath that he forgets Myrnin can hear.
But, after about ten minutes, the game loses its appeal; there's no fun in merely chasing someone around the room – it gets boring after a while. So Myrnin ends the game by moving forwards and grabbing Shane's hair, throwing him head first into a wall.
"Uhh," is all Shane lets out, a low groan that is his only expression in regards to the impact, which has caused blood to streak down his face near instantly. It's a bad wound, he thinks - he can tell from the pressure that's building up inside of his head – and part of him wishes that this will be the end, that he can just black out and be drained, even though it was always his aim never to die with no blood inside of him.
It's in this moment, as he teeters on the edge of life and death once more, that Shane realises he's been too cocky for his entire life. Knowing how to avoid death doesn't mean that you have to run and embrace the situations which could bring you it; it just gives you an extra weapon in your artillery if you do come across it prematurely. He should never have done half the things he has done, should have saved his luck for situations like this, when destroying the enemy involves destroying the mind and preconceptions as to what's going on.
He's been selfish and obnoxious, self-contained anger at everything that has gone on causing him to be brash and hasty in his decision making – yet he doesn't care one bit. If he had been any different, this moment could never have come, because he'd be either mourning by Claire's headstone, or lying in the ground beside her. He may never have even returned to Morganville, may be able to be living a normal life right now, being merely plagued by the nightmares that you can never shake off from here. Self pity isn't something he wants to give himself in these moments: he wants to be proud of what he's achieved and to hope that, if he had the chance to do it all again, he'd do it the exact same way.
"Do it, vampire," he snarls as Myrnin yanks him away from the wall and throws him towards the box where his precious Ada is. As the vampire releases him, Shane staggers, unable to steady himself due to the head injury, and he finds himself lying against something with an electrical current that could jump out and kill him right now – and it would be a blessing. "We both know you're going to kill me. You've had your sadistic fun, the kind that you probably did for sport in the past. Why not get it over with? Then you can return to your psychotic little fantasies about a dead box, and allow the rest of the town to sink into the same state of confusion as you!"
There's a moment of silence as Myrnin processes what the young man has just said, his eyes watching intently as Shane tries to staunch the flow of blood.
Maybe there's a chance that Myrnin could be reasoned with – if Ada wasn't involved, and if there wasn't fresh blood. Maybe there's a chance that he could restrain from killing Shane, and just leave him seriously wounded. Maybe there's a chance that he could stand up and walk away.
But he won't. He never would, not in this room. Not in the room filled with Ada and their beautiful memories, his insanity and her pressuring him to get through it without forgetting her again, because otherwise everything would have been for nothing. Insanity rules in his mind at the minute, and to get past that, one must first destroy the influence – the machine.
For the briefest flicker, however, Shane catches sight of a flicker of compassion in Myrnin's eyes, as though his true self is shining through – he doesn't want to do this. Unfortunately, as quickly as it appears, it disappears once more, fading back into the ebony sea of darkness, obliterated by the anger and fear that become prominent in his emotions again.
As he advances again, it's for the final kill: everything about the stance says that, with the low crouch, the steady movements because the prey isn't going anywhere, the almost sedate and methodical manner by which the vampire is going through, as it remembers how to kill. Not that a vampire ever forgets this, however.
And then he pounces, throwing himself and Shane into the machine, the momentum sending it flying backwards into the furthermost wall, causing sparks to emit due to the friction. His hands grip into Shane's shoulders, and it's as though they're being set on fire for Shane, for the vampire's grip is so tight. Too tight for what he needs, but Shane supposes that Myrnin isn't aware of his own strength, and that he's never going to know what it feels like, to be completely overpowered.
As Shane closes his eyes, he begs for mercy, for this last part to be quick and easy, unlike the rest of it.
He couldn't be more wrong.
His mouth curls into all types of shapes as he tries to hold in the shrieks and yells of pain he wants to let rip, to stop himself cussing the vampire to the point of there being no other words to use, as parts of his body break. The vampire seems to be testing out how durable the bone really is, snapping and bending each one, until the pain seems almost too much. Searing hot and coursing through the entire body, Shane allows one grunt out, in an attempt to say, please. Let it stop.
And the vampire understands.
"You understand now, boy?" he can't help but give a victory speech, as part of the traditional Myrnin hunting spiel. "You could never have beaten myself and Ada; not when we're a team. Run home-no, you can't. You're dead now, aren't you? Or you are going to be, in a minute. Enjoy these last moments of barely being able to breathe, as your lungs fill with blood they should never experience. You won't enjoy them, not really."
In the last moment, his fangs slide down, and his mouth is upon Shane's neck at the point where the carotid artery begins before another breath can be taken by Shane.
In the final moment, there is no regret: there is no need to worry about previously done things, or to wonder if things could have gone differently. He's lived his life as he has, and he's pleased he has. If he has to die like this, so be it.
And so, as Myrnin begins to drain the limited life within him, Shane smiles slightly. Not much, but just slightly. And that's what makes the difference to him.
.
The snow white corpse drops onto the floor after mere seconds, unrecognisable in its shape and features.
But it's Shane.
.
Myrnin returns to the box in the corner, crooning to Ada, and how sorry he is that he had to throw her into the wall; it was to get rid of that boy, of course.
There's no answer.
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