Eve's POV
I watched him take her. I didn't do anything about it, didn't stop it at all, because despite the fact that it was Myrnin, and Claire, I would be stupid to ignore the fact that we'd been left in the lurch, and he was the only person so far to take any notice of us. Claire blacked out, and for a second, I saw him look at her as if she was the only person in the world. Gotcha, I thought half-heartedly. It wasn't really a good thing, that he loved her. Not for Claire at least.
I'd watched the car until it had turned at the end of the road, unable tear my eyes away from the last part of my life to leave me. Because that's what it felt like; first Shane, then Michael, and now Claire, all leaving me behind, all without wanting too- ripped away from me. A little while ago I might have thought it was romantic- happy couples torn apart by forces outside their control, but still desperately in love etcetera, etcetera. But the reality was different. It wasn't romantic. It was harsh and scary and cruel, and I didn't know how much longer I could last like this.
I clattered upstairs, filling the empty house with my own noise to try and disguise how completely alone I was. I raided Claire's room first, stuffing underwear and jeans into a canvas bag, pausing by her stack of books on the dresser. I didn't even understand the titles of half of her stuff, let alone the rest of it. Some of it wasn't even in English, with the tell-tale old bindings that meant Myrnin had given them to her. It was weird how big a part of her he'd become. Scary, because Claire didn't even notice. I shivered and started on to my own room, picking up random essentials like lipstick and mascara as I went. Claire might not consider them essential, but she'd thank me in the long run.
In five minutes flat, I had packed enough for me, Claire and Michael for a fortnight. I paused by Shane's door. I hadn't seen him in a week. Hadn't spoken to him since he'd gone. I knew that Claire got irregular messages from Frank, but I was always going to be nothing more than a fang-banger in his head- not worth talking too. And even his messages to Claire were pathetic. All about how it'll all be over soon, and how we all have to make sacrifices. Well, I've made enough sacrifices for this damn town. I wasn't going to make any more.
For some reason, that resolved me, and I pushed into Shane's room.
The figure grabbed me by the shoulders, his hand reaching to cover my mouth. I screamed and was cut off short, dropping my bag, the shock sending my heart into a pounding frenzy before my brain could catch up with what was in front of me.
He raised an eyebrow at the bag on the floor, clothes spilling out of the top and my favourite aqua blue eyeliner pencil rolling across the hard wood floor.
"Going somewhere?" Shane said.
Shane's POV
I didn't know what I'd expect to come home to, after all this time. Maybe Eve choking the hell out of me in one of her fierce Goth hugs, or at least looking pleased to see me.
I wasn't expecting her to hurl herself at me, swinging a fist towards my face with alarming speed and yelling.
"Shane, you jerk!" I deflected the blow, but another one was already lined up, this time heading for slightly more vulnerable places. "How could you leave us in this mess? You stupid, stupid jackass!" she jelled, punctuating her rant with punches. "We've been through hell for you! And now Michael's gone, Claire's sick-"
I snapped. Maybe it was the mention of Claire, but whatever it was; all reason was chased out of my head. Unexpected anger flowed through me, like someone had turned on a tap. I cut her off mid-sentence, pinning her arms to her sides and pushed her up against the wall, hard.
"What about Claire? You let Myrnin take her. Where? Why? For how long?" I said. I wasn't shouting, but that didn't make a difference. Eve was staring at me with large, scared eyes, flexing her wrists caught in my hands.
"Shane, you're hurting me…" she mumbled, avoiding the questions. Well, I was sick of half answers. I banged her again, noticing absently the awful crack of her head against the wall. It was as if suddenly I could see everything that they saw. The Gothic wannabe vamp look, the glittering ruby ring on her left hand, it all added up to a picture of a fang-banger. Not Eve. Didn't she see what a mess she looked like? And she'd let him take Claire. My Claire. I couldn't even begin to explain the anger I was feeling, was too far gone to remember what my psychiatrist had said, after the Bite Club. I didn't want to remember. I wanted answers. I wanted Claire. And I wanted Eve to wake up and see everything that she was doing, and how wrong it was.
This time, I shouted.
"I don't care, Eve! Tell me where Claire is!" I let go of her abruptly, barely noticing her drop to the floor, choking on a sob. I picked up a handful of clothes that had spilled out of her bag, crushing the fabric between my fingers- some were Claire's, some Eve's and some Michael's. "What's this? Where are you going? Where is Claire?"
Eve's tears were making black trails down her face, but that only made me angrier. God, didn't she want to help? Or would she prefer that Claire shacked up with a vamp like she had?
I made an effort to look calmer, reaching down to haul Eve up into a standing position again. A small part of me winced as she flinched away from me, her eyes scared and hurt and betrayed. But I'd done it now. I couldn't take it back, all I could do was roll with it. She'd forgive me.
"Eve, you're going to need to tell me everything, right now, or this is going to go very bad, very quickly." I pushed her toward the bed, the small sane part of me felt guilty when she bounced down on it like a broken doll. This is Eve, it whispered, what the hell are you doing?
But I didn't care anymore. There wasn't any emotion left inside of me anymore, and I needed Claire.
I looked at Eve with dead eyes, and said flatly, "Start talking."
Claire's POV
Claire drifted in and out of that sleepy state, just before you woke up. She could hear indistinct voices in the room, and feel the soft cotton sheets wrapped around her. For a second, she expected to roll over and find Shane, but then she remembered.
And it hurt.
"-waking up now? It's been almost a day." Someone asked. Michael? Claire struggled to open her eyes, to move, do something, but it was as if someone had poured lead into her limbs, pinning them down with sleepy, exhausted weight.
"She'll wake in her own time." Amelie's cool voice replied. Claire fought harder to open her eyes, listening to the sound of a nearby door brushing over deep carpet as it opened, and muffled footsteps coming towards her. She wasn't at home, then.
Claire hadn't noticed the tension in her muscles until it went; banished by a soft, cool pressure against her wrist. She heard Michael make a frustrated sound in the back of his throat.
With the uncomfortable feeling gone, Claire felt tired again, ready to drop off into the abyss that was sleep. She didn't know why she felt like this, but she could only guess that she was still recovering from her flu, or whatever it had been. She fought it briefly, but it was too late to stop the velvety blackness swirling around her for the second time.
This time, Claire woke up properly. Blinking against the soft creamy light directly above her, Claire tried to figure out where she was. The room was fairly spacious, with muted, coffee toned walls, pale wood furniture, and a deep, cream coloured carpet. It looked like a posh hotel room, functional, nice but essentially cold. There were no pictures on the wall, and everything had a purpose. Opposite her were two identical doors, one half open. Through it, Claire could see the clean, white brilliance of an on-suite bathroom, all white tiles and chrome.
A familiar set of bedraggled bunny rabbit slippers sat next to her dresser, beside a pile of her own clothes, neatly folded.
Myrnin.
Claire didn't know what to make of the sudden longing that shot through her, the faint headache that made her want nothing more than to find him, and let him take it away. She didn't know why she felt like that. The logical side of her knew that Myrnin couldn't possibly make her headache go away unless he happened to carry around a packet of aspirin, which was unlikely to say the least. But the rest of her didn't seem to care that it wasn't possible. And Claire didn't know how to feel about that.
There wasn't a knock at the door before it swung open and Michael walked through, Eve just behind him. It was clear from their expressions that they'd been arguing- Michael had a determined glint in his angelic blue eyes, and Eve's were pure, dark stubbornness. But the second they saw Claire was awake, their matching grim expressions vanished, replaced by breakable smiles, and sympathy.
"Oh, Claire-Bear, you're awake!" Eve said, throwing her arms around her in a tight Goth hug, and then holding her at arm's length. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?" she said fiercely. Claire could see from Eve's choice of clothing that she was having a Bad Day. Eve had a habit of channelling any excess stress into her wardrobe, and today didn't disappoint. It was like a neon and black war in corset dress style, accessorized with a thick leather choker and (most likely, real) silver chains around her wrists and neck along with her typical badass stomping boots. Her hair was inky black, still with her aqua highlights, and arranged in crazy curls that must have taken hours.
Claire nodded absently, murmuring, "I promise I won't" into Eve's curls as she pulled in her in for a second hug, and trying to ignore the faint nausea that it brought on. A trickle of fear bled through her. This was how it started last time. Are you sure it won't happen again?
Michael was untangling Eve from Claire. "Let her breathe. She's only just woken up." He said, trying for light-heartedness. Claire could see the worry, though, and shook away her bad thoughts, saying the first thing that came into her head.
"Is Myrnin here?"
Two worried pairs of eyes stared at her for a second, before Eve said. "Don't you even want to know where 'here' is before you see Batty MacFang?" Eve asked quietly, her hand reaching for Michael's. Claire didn't notice their exchange of worried glances as she climbed out of bed.
"Um, Founder's Square? Though I don't remember there being bedrooms last time we stayed here." Claire shivered, remembering the cold and the wet and the draug. Not pleasant.
"The rooms were for the vampires, but there aren't as many left, and so Myrnin brought you here. Me and Eve have one on the first floor." Michael said as Claire started sorting through the pile of clothes, trying to stop her eyes flickering to the bunny slippers. Jeans, t-shirts that didn't match and a couple of jumpers. Practical clothes, obviously packed in a rush. Claire began to wonder what exactly had happened when she'd fallen asleep.
"Yeah, and ours isn't as big as this, and there's two of us, so go figure." Eve said grumpily." Still, better company."
Claire was only half listening when she came across a sock. There wasn't anything particularly special about the sock, poking out of the fold in one of her hoodies, except that it was Shane's, and Claire knew for a fact that it had been on the floor of Shane's bedroom.
Shane.
She instantly felt guilty for forgetting him. She'd been out for how long? And she hadn't thought about her boyfriend, who was incidentally risking his life for her, once. Not even once. Claire couldn't ignore the headache anymore, a steady, rhythmic pounding that was sickeningly familiar. She stuffed the sock back in the pocket, out of sight and leant against the dresser, rubbing her forehead.
"Claire? Are you okay?" Michael asked, touching her on the elbow gently. Claire put on her best fake smile, and turned to face them. "Yep, fine. Look, I need to change and then can we get some food? Because I'm starving." She said, and was almost disappointed when they believed her, and left.
Claire went into the little bathroom to change, pulling on jeans and a long sleeved top that she'd bought in Dallas with Eve, and stared into the mirror. She looked pale. Vamp pale. But strangely, it didn't look bad; instead, it made the brown of her eyes and her lashes look darker and more defined, and her lips redder.
She looked like a vampire.
And she didn't mind at all.
Claire didn't even notice that her headache had gone as she scooped up her laundry and walked back into the other room.
"It's still customary to thank your rescuer, is it not, little Claire? Or have times changed more drastically than I thought?" Myrnin said from behind her.
Claire let out a shrill squeak of fear as she spun to face the voice, dropping her clothes on the floor. Myrnin was leaning against the wall, an amused expression on his face. Claire had no idea how long he'd been there.
"I thought it was customary to knock at least before walking straight into someone's bedroom, but maybe that's just us ill-mannered humans." Claire said as she scooped up her clothes and dumped them in a wicker washing basket next the set of drawers.
Myrnin inclined his head a little. It was then that Claire noticed what he was wearing; inside out lab coat, dark blue silk shirt and a patterned waistcoat with a pair of surfer shorts and no shoes. Typical Myrnin-wear.
"So, what are you doing here?" she asked, a million possibilities crossing her mind, the worst: to give her bad news. Because Claire knew that Amelie would never tell her herself, oh no, she'd send Myrnin to do her dirty work. "Is it about Shane?"
A strange look passed across Myrnin's face, so quick Claire almost missed it. The easy atmosphere was gone now, vanished with Myrnin's smile. Claire felt her fear grow, almost certain that Myrnin's reluctance was because the news was terrible. She stepped forward, reaching out to grab Myrnin's hand. "Tell me!"
Myrnin took her hand in both of his, and brought it up to his lips, the old gesture causing Claire to shiver. Shane. Remember Shane, she thought desperately, but it was hard. She felt so…relaxed. And she didn't know why.
Myrnin's eyes met hers, gentle and deep. Myrnin's eyes were like himself- beautiful, bright, and full of knowledge, but it was as if it was all in a different language- unfathomable. Claire had no idea what he was thinking.
"Claire, it isn't about Shane." He said, dropping his head and looking away as tears sparkled in his eyes. Claire was confused. This was Myrnin's post-manic guilty behaviour. She'd only seen him this uncomfortable at times like when he'd set the machine that powered Morganville to erase the memories of the residents, and it had been heart breaking.
"Myrnin, tell me what is going on." She said, softly, but firm, reaching out to turn his face back towards her. He let her, even though she knew he could have avoided it at any time. She hadn't realised how close they were stood, only inches between them. It didn't feel weird or scary or wrong, like it should when you were practically hugging your boss. Not that Myrnin was exactly her boss anymore. Claire wasn't even certain he was her friend. She didn't know what he was, but she knew that he needed to tell her what was going on, and he needed to tell her now.
Myrnin cleared his throat a little. "It's not about Shane." He repeated, lifting his gaze to look her straight in the eye. "It's about you."
Okay, got to 99 reviews, so I'll reinstate my previous bribe, in an apology for my lack of update. (Sorry, but school and life and such…meh) Hundredth, and in fact first, reviewer gets a one-shot of their choice, so please leave a review. I have written a rather large chapter for you. ;)