A week had passed, and Blaire had not heard from the woman from the store. She spent almost all of her free time with her nose buried in the large spell book, waiting for a call. She was just over halfway through the thousand page book. She wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for. She'd know when she saw it. Until then, she'd keep searching.
It was late, and although Blaire hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately, she wasn't tired. Her eyes, though, were sore. She decided to take a break from reading. She slid down the stairs with the intention of making a cup of hot chocolate. On the third step, a gunshot rang through the hallway, followed by a string of startled screams.
Blaire bolted down the rest of the stairs to the source of the noise- Vivien's bedroom.
"Viv!" Blaire yelled. "Viv, are you okay?"
She burst through the door to see Ben lying on the floor in agony. Vivien was sitting upright in bed, holding a shaking gun.
"Viv," Blaire breathed, gliding across the bed. "Give me the gun, and tell me what happened."
Vivien agreed, her body quaking as she passed the gun over to Blaire. Blaire carefully laid the gun on the nightstand out of Vivien's reach and tried to calm the woman for a quick second before she checked on Dr. Harmon. Ben was conscious and aware of what was happening, but he was in a lot of pain. Blaire was torn between her adoptive parents. She wanted to wrap everything up with a pretty bow and make it okay for them. Now she had to choose between Ben, who was in searing pain, or Vivien, who was scared and confused. Ultimately, she climbed back up into the bed with Vivien.
"I thought- I thought he was my attacker," Vivien whispered into Blaire's shoulder. "I thought it was the Rubber man."
Blaire felt sick to her stomach. There was only one person in the world who she knew as the Rubber man, and she didn't put hurting Vivien past him.
Blaire stayed with Vivien for a few more seconds until the distant sirens became more noticeable. When she calculated they were just outside the house, she excused herself. Pushing past Violet, who was just now emerging from her chamber, Blaire ran down the stairs. She nearly tripped over her own feet trying to get to the basement.
"Tate!" She screamed. "Tate! I know you're down here!"
"What?" He said, peeking around the corner. "Stop yelling. You're going to wake everyone up."
She stormed over and wagged a finger in his direction, "It's a little too late for that."
The sudden trample of footsteps and commotion above them made Tate look at Blaire with confusion. Before he could say anything, she slapped him, her hand colliding with his cold skin. He jumped back, his black eyes riddled with pain.
"What did you do to Vivien?"
"What?" Tate whimpered. "Blaire- I don't know what you're talking about."
"What did you do to Vivien?" Blaire repeated. "She said the Rubber Man hurt her. You're the only person I've seen in that stupid costume. Tell me the truth, Tate. Tell me everything. I don't want any secrets between us."
"Bug," He said, his voice flocculating. "I don't remember."
"Bullshit!" She cursed loudly. "Tell me now, or I'm leaving forever."
He reached out and grabbed her arms, "Okay. I did it."
"You did what? Say it."
"I… I attacked Vivien. She's pregnant with my babies."
Blaire felt the tears trickle down her face. She knew it was true, but she didn't want to believe it.
"How do you know I was the man in the suit?" Tate questioned, his demeanor changing.
"I-I just…. I've been around, drifting for a few years."
"Spying, you mean."
"Tate," Blaire muttered. "I'm a ghost. I'm dead. You're dead too."
Tate's face was still for a long second, and then he burst into laughter, "You think I don't know that?"
"You know?" Blaire said, wide eyed. "Why didn't you tell me? Everyone thinks you don't know!"
"Everyone?" He said with an arched eyebrow. "It isn't something I say when I introduce myself. Besides, I thought you knew that I knew. It isn't that hard to figure out when you're dead."
Blaire rubbed her temple. All these years she'd been staying away just far enough so that he didn't get suspicious. He was so innocently corrupted. She didn't want him to find out. Something inside her wanted him to think he was alive for the rest of eternity. But he's known the entire time.
"Do you remember dying?" Tate asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah," Blaire whispered, casting her eyes to the ground.
"I remember the police shot me. I just don't know why."
Blaire looked up at him with a crooked smile, "They shot you because you're a bastard, Tate. You're a murderer. You're a rapist. You murdered all those people at Westfield. You murdered Chad and Patrick- don't think I don't know about that- and you raped and attacked Vivien."
"Stop it!" Tate snapped. "Shut up!"
"It's okay," Blaire reached out an arm. "I still love you, Tate. As much as I hate you right now, I will always love you."
They lingered in a calm silence, her hand still on his arm. Neither was too worried about what was happening above them in the house. Blaire knew she had to tell Tate about the mayor's son. She couldn't let him think he was the only damned one.
"Tate," She muttered. "No more secrets, right? I did something terrible the other day…"
Tate looked at her with encouraging eyes.
"The day Violet took those pills and you tried to save her- the day I disappeared for a while- I got into a car with a stranger. He took me to some cheap motel. I was so empty inside, and I just needed to feel someone's touch…"
"What did you do?" Tate cried softly.
"I killed him. I stabbed him until I saw nothing but red. There was so much blood everywhere, and I just couldn't stop."
Tate looked humorously relieved. Blaire hadn't reveled that she had sex with the stranger to not only protect Tate, but herself. She couldn't be alone anymore.
Tate caressed her face, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No," Blaire said.
He kissed her softly. Though she was still angry at him, she knew she wouldn't be for long. There was something about Tate that made her forget all the bad things, or at least pardon them. Now that they knew each other's murderous secrets, the bond between them was stronger.
Their morbid moment of love was interrupted with the noises upstairs traveled from the second floor to right outside the basement. Vivien's protest raised Blaire's alerts. She pushed Tate away and scurried up the stairs. She was too late. She pushed Ben aside and watched as two men ushered Vivien into a large white van.
"I had to," Ben said softly, casting his eyes down at Blaire. "I had to send her away. She's sick."
Blaire stood in the doorway long after the van disappeared into the dark night. She'd just lost her second chance at a mother. The seeping hole in her lifeless heart wouldn't be okay until everything was better. She was going to fix it. She was going to fix everything. Somehow.