Hello all my readers! : D

Wow, I don't what it was exactly about my last plea for reviews that inspired you guys, but thanks to all you lurkers who at last left me a review! You guys made my day! Please continue to keep leaving reviews. You got me so inspired yesterday, that I got this next part finished before the end of the weekend, (which also marks the end of large free chunks of writing time.)

Also, there seemed to be some confusion as to why I had the last chapter in the first place. I posted it, wanting to show how Beth is dealing with all these events. As one reviewer said, it's post-traumatic stress. So gurlwriter, I wouldn't say it's supposed to be something bad happening to Beth, it's just the way Beth is feeling right now—I guess it's bad in the sense that she's upset, and we all want her to be happy. I want to continue to show Beth working through her emotions in this chapter. However, please keep in mind that I don't know dididly about psychology, so please be forgiving if you think it doesn't seem real. I hope it does though.

nuff said, onto the story!

Enjoy.

Interim (part IV)

Beth looked herself over one last time in the mirror hanging on the wall of the spare bedroom. She gave a resigned sigh. Still not at the top of your game, but at least you don't look like a train wreck anymore…

Beth had finished her shower. She had sat underneath the hot water for a good fifteen minutes, letting her tears wash away down the shower drain. But her eyes had had to run dry sometime, and eventually her crying subsided, and she had just sat on the floor, hiccupping and sniffling to herself. She had felt drained, empty. She had let her grief and worry and fear that had built up inside her over the past two days just pour out. She knew those emotions and memories were still with her, but she had found that now she could look at those emotions without feeling afraid. She felt strong again. She knew Mick would live, and she had wrapped that thought around her soul, and made it her rock to stand on. It's strength filled her core.

She found she could stand again. Using her newfound hope, she had awkwardly rose to her feet in the shower, and had finished cleaning herself up. Wrapping a towel around her when she was done, she had grabbed one of Mick's combs from the medicine cabinet, and had gone downstairs to the spare bedroom.

When Beth and Mick had first started their relationship, Mick had suggested to Beth that she bring a change of clothes over to his place—in case she might need to change, for any reason. Beth had teased him a little at the time, asking just what exactly was he insinuating? She could still remember the deep blush that had spread across his cheeks. He was such a gentleman. It was one of the things about him that Beth loved the most.

Now, she was thankful that she had taken him up on his offer. She had fresh, clean clothes waiting for her when she entered the room. She pulled her small bag out from the closet and after drying off herself more thoroughly, dressed. She pulled on a pair of comfortable, dark jeans, and a lavender button-up blouse. She had worn the blouse around Mick before, and he had told her it was one of his favorites.

Once dressed, she had taken Mick's comb to her wet, tangled hair, working through all the snarls. It had taken forever. Every time after she washed her hair and had to comb through the snarls Beth swore she would cut it all off. Nothing irritated her more than having to comb out her thick hair when it was tangled from being washed. But it was worth having the long, golden-spun locks, as she knew her hair was one of her best features. So she endured the agony of snarls.

She was dressed and clean. Her hair was combed. Still, she lingered in the room downstairs. She was stalling. The Cleaner was waiting for her, and when Beth went upstairs she'd have to relive everything. She thought of Mick, letting him fill her with strength. She could do this. She could talk about it. She squared her shoulders, a determined expression settling over her face. She looked at herself in the mirror. Let's get this over with.

She went upstairs. She walked quietly, barefoot. She figured the Cleaner would be in the freezer room, and so stepped through the gray door, instead of entering the master bedroom.

The freezer room was empty. Wondering where the Cleaner was, Beth stepped further inside. Her eyes fell on the freezer. She took in a breath.

She could see Josef lying inside the freezing unit. He looked as still as death. Beth stepped closer, concern and worry for the vampire filling her eyes. Josef did not look good. There was no color in his face. Small ice crystals clung to his cheeks and chest. His short, blond hair was glittering with frost. There was something breathtakingly beautiful about the sight, and Beth truly felt as though she were staring at some otherworldly creature. A demon of wind and ice—or some such thing. Beth shivered, feeling a chill race down her spine at Josef's appearance. Even unconscious and near death Josef gave off 'Don't fuck with me,' vibes.

Beth heard the Cleaner enter behind her, and she asked, "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Josef?"

"Yeah. Is he out of danger?" Beth heard the Cleaner sigh. She turned around and faced the mysterious woman. The Cleaner was holding a unit of blood—she must have been giving Mick another transfusion.

The Cleaner answered her question. "To be honest, I don't know. Josef's fever was out of control when I put him in there, but the sub-zero temperature seems to have wiped it out. But he's completely unresponsive. He should have woken up by now. His healing abilities are working, so I don't understand why he hasn't regained consciousness."

Beth could barely detect the worry and confusion in the Cleaner's voice. The vampire did a good job of hiding her emotions. But Beth wasn't fooled. She could tell that the Cleaner was upset over Josef's condition.

Beth responded, "He's going to be all right." She had a feeling. Josef was just sleeping off the shock to his system, and his body was waiting for when he would have the strength to deal with what had happened.

The Cleaner arched an eyebrow, but didn't ask how Beth could make such a confident statement, when all visual evidence pointed to the fact that Josef was never going to wake up. Instead she said, "I need to give Josef a transfusion. And then we'll talk."

Beth nodded. "Okay. I'll wait for you in the master bedroom." She entered the room, and peered down through the lid of the spare freezer. In just the time that she had gone to shower and dress, Mick's bruises had completely vanished from his face. Was it only her imagination, or was he starting to heal a bit faster? Hope fluttered happily in her chest. "Wake up soon, baby," she whispered, placing her hand on the glass above Mick's heart.

She could hear the Cleaner shutting the lid to the freezer in the other room, and knew that the time to explain had come at last. She pulled her hand away, and sat down on the bed, watching as the Cleaner pulled a chair over from the other room. Beth could see a tightness present in the vampire's shoulders, and a weary look in her eyes. She must be tired. Beth only understood too well how the Cleaner must be feeling, having just gone through all possible degrees of exhaustion and emotional instability herself.

The Cleaner dragged the chair through the door, shutting it behind her. She sat down across from Beth, and leaned forward. "Okay, Beth, time to share the facts. Why isn't St. John healing naturally? And what happened here? Take all the time you need to answer, but I must know everything."

Beth took a deep breath, and swallowed. Okay, here goes. You can do this. Mick is right here with you. Just tell her what happened. Don't dwell on the memories. She took another breath, and opening her mouth, began to speak.

Mick felt sleepy—sleepy and comfortable. All of his limbs felt heavy and lethargic, as though soft, heavy weights were pressing down on him. It felt so nice, so soothing to just lie in the cold air. The pain was small and far away. He wondered if he was dead, if this was heaven. Right, St. John. Cuz vampires are welcome in heaven. He would have snorted with laughter if he had the energy. As it was, he started to drift back to sleep. He didn't feel dead, just incredibly worn out.

Wait a moment. He could hear voices. One of them was Beth! He felt his heart soar with happiness. Beth's okay! He managed to crack his eyes open to the smallest of slits. It was then that he realized he wasn't in his own freezer. Where am I? It didn't matter. Beth was what mattered. He could hear her muffled voice through the freezer, and as long as she was there, he knew he was safe. Beth wouldn't let anything happen to him.

He managed to turn his head just enough to the right to gaze out the side of the freezer. He could see a wavered outline of a room. He couldn't be sure, but he thought it might be his master bedroom. But then how could he be in a freezer…? It was too confusing for him to process at the time and Mick gave up trying to figure out the situation. He looked for Beth.

There she was, sitting on the bed. Her figure was blurred through the frosted glass of the freezer, but he knew it was her. Her golden hair was gleaming in the room's light. Mick thought she looked like an angel.

Sleep was pulling at him. He needed to rest, to heal. His last sight as his eyes slipped shut, was his beautiful Beth—alive and as strong as ever. He had time for one last coherent thought before he fell asleep, We made it. We're both alive. If Beth had looked at him right then, she would have seen that small half smile of his that she loved, curl the corner of his mouth. Mick was at peace.

The Cleaner interrupted Beth's narrative, "Wait…you mean St. John isn't healing because he changed the future?"

Beth squirmed. She hoped she was being clear. She wasn't sure if she completely understood what had happened. "Yes. I was supposed to die last night. Mick said he saw Josef drain me, in a vision…but in real life, Mick stopped him in time."

"I see."

"And Josef told Mick apparently, way back whenever, that when a vampire changes the future, he—"

"Experiences a price extracted in strength. I am familiar with the consequences. It is just rare that a vampire actually manages to change fate. I did not recognize the symptoms in St. John."

Beth asked hesitantly, "Do you know how long it'll last for?"

"It varies, but it usually wears off in 48 hours, at the latest. It's a terrible feeling, losing your vampiric abilities."

Beth was curiosity was sparked by the Cleaner's last statement. "Has it ever happened to you?"

The Cleaner stared at her, until Beth realized that the question had been too personal. She blushed, and mumbled, "Sorry…"

The Cleaner indicated Beth with her hand. "Please continue your explanation."

Beth talked straight for half an hour. She told the Cleaner of entering the factory, of finding Calista and Josef. She told of how Mick had shouted for her to run, and how she had fled down the hall, Josef hot on her heels. She confessed that she had made up her mind to shoot Josef, but had hesitated at the last second. The Cleaner didn't interrupt her. She sat quietly and listened to every word Beth spoke with rapt attention.

Beth continued to speak. She talked about how Josef had bit her, how she had thought she was going to die, when Mick had suddenly come through the windows, and pulled Josef off of her. She described how Mick and Josef had fought, how Mick had been about to shoot his friend, and how she had stopped Mick and staked Josef instead, saving the vampire's life. (The Cleaner had murmured under her breath, "Impressive," at that point in the narration.)

Still Beth continued to speak. Her mouth was getting dry from all the talking she was doing. She told about Mick and her bringing Josef home with them from the factory, and how Damien had been waiting for Mick at the apartment. Her voice shook a little as she relayed, for the Cleaner, the conversation that had taken place between Damien and Mick.

Beth paused. She had reached the most traumatizing of memories for her from the ordeal. Damien hurting Mick. The memories were dancing at the edge of her sight, just waiting for a chance to overwhelm her. The Cleaner seemed to sense this.

"Take all the time you need," she said softly.

Beth swallowed thickly. She began to speak, slowly at first, but as she moved further and further into what had happened last night, the words fell from her tongue faster. Her voice became louder, steadier, stronger. As she spoke, the memories swam in front of her sight, but she pressed on, determined to get it all out. She was drawing the poison from herself, and as she spoke, she faced down each memory…

—Damien's face, inches away from Mick's, his eyes pale green, long fangs, dripping with blood, Mick's blood—

—Mick being thrown like a rag doll across his apartment, smashing hard into the support columns, cracking them with the force—

—Mick lying broken and battered on the floor, blood trickling across his face. Their eyes meet. 'I love you…' His gaze is torn from her as Damien pulls him away—

—Damien pressing Mick over the fireplace. Beth can hear Mick begging for her life, "Please…don't kill her…spare her…please…"—

—Mick lying, unmoving. Still as death. Beth rocks him, she rocks him. Gently, back and forth, she rocks him—

Beth finished. She sat quietly, her breathing a little harsh and loud. She felt…she felt better. It was as though a great weight had been lifted from her, as though she were freed from a heavy burden. She no longer felt small and frightened. The memories were still there, Beth knew they always would be, but she could face them. They no longer held any control—she controlled them.

The Cleaner spoke. "And that's when I arrived?"

Beth nodded, "Yes." A thought came to her, and she furrowed her brow, confused. How did the Cleaner know to come to the apartment in the first place? She asked the question aloud.

The Cleaner grinned, and Beth saw her fang again. "I called St. John and no one answered. Since he said he was going to his apartment, I thought it strange he didn't pick up. Call it intuition."

Beth remembered that Mick's phone had rung during his and Damien's fight. She had used the phone's distraction as an opportunity to try to stake Damien. She said, astonished, "That was you who called?"

"Yes. I told St. John I would call him once I had cleaned the factory site." The Cleaner rose, and popped her neck. Beth also stood. The conversation was over, and she had lived through it. She was glad. She turned her back to the Cleaner and went to Mick's side. His head was turned slightly to the right, his expression relaxed and at ease. His chest rose and fell evenly. Beth was glad that he didn't appear to be suffering. Her thoughts drifted back to what she had been thinking over in the hospital…

I want to be turned… As Beth stared into Mick's face, she felt her worries over being turned rise again. How can I tell him? He won't understand…Mick, can't you see? I want to be with you, for eternity... Her eyes were watering again, and she brushed the back of her hand against them, wiping away the tears.

"Beth, is something bothering you?"

Beth gave a little jump. She had thought the Cleaner had returned to Mick's freezer room, to watch over Josef. "It's…it's nothing…" she started to say, but then decided, Ah, to hell with it. Maybe she can help you. "Actually, that's not true. It's about Mick, our relationship."

"Are you having doubts?"

"No! Oh no, nothing like that. In fact, I'm having the opposite of doubts. I want…I want…" Could she just come out and say it?

The Cleaner saved her from having to. "I think I see. You want to be turned."

Beth's small, nervous face looked into hers. "Yes," she whispered. "But Mick…he won't really talk to me about it. I don't think he likes the idea. I don't know much of what to expect."

The Cleaner stepped forward. She took Beth by the shoulders and sat her back down on the bed. She dragged her chair forward, so she was in close to Beth. The Cleaner looked her in the eyes. Beth stared into her orbs…they seemed bottomless, dark pools of memory, knowledge and time. Beth suddenly knew that the Cleaner was very old. Her eyes reminded Beth of Josef's.

"Beth, turning is a very serious business. It's not a decision to make lightly."

"I know," Beth said, her voice still only a nervous whisper.

"Is there something specific you want to know about it?"

Beth hesitated, and then asked, "What…what is it like…dying?"

The Cleaner closed her eyes, but not before Beth saw the echoes of terror in them. "It depends on how the turning is done, but dying can either be a smooth transition, or a terrifying one." Beth knew which the Cleaner's had been. There was no mistaking the haunted look in the Cleaner's face. "In a smooth transition, as your sire drains you, you just drift peacefully off into death, like falling asleep. The other way, the other way…"

"I understand."

"Usually, your sire would drink from you first, and then eventually, at some point, have you start to drink from him."

"And then you wake up a vampire?"

"In most cases, yes."

"In most cases?"

The Cleaner's eyes bore into hers. "It's very important you understand the risk Miss Turner. Turnings can go wrong—very wrong. Not everyone who is turned recovers from death, or manages to wake again. There are whispers and rumors in the vampire community about these incidents. Some don't believe them, but those are only the young. It's because of the danger of turnings that there are so many more humans than vampires."

Beth felt anxious. She hadn't known or thought about the possibility that her turning might fail. Dead, or trapped in a coma for all eternity? She shuddered. What would that do to Mick? It would destroy him… She looked back into the Cleaner's face. The Cleaner was watching her intently.

"What do you think I should do?"

The Cleaner rose from the chair. "If you love St. John, which I believe you do, you'll ask for the turning, no matter what I tell you. You and I both know it's the only way for you to be happy together. You may put it off, but eventually you'd ask. My advice to you is, don't put it off. Ask to be turned now, while you're young and beautiful."

The Cleaner stepped through the door, back into the freezer room, leaving Beth with one last warning, "But don't make this decision lightly. Once you take the final step towards vampirism, there's no going back. It's a one way street."

And with those chilling words, she shut the door behind her. Beth turned to Mick. Mick, I'm not deciding this on a whim. I hope you'll understand when the time comes for me to tell you. She watched Mick, a small smile crossing her face as she watched him sleep and heal. I'm not leaving you behind to face eternity alone. Like it or not, I'll be there with you. You're mine Mick St. John, and I'm never letting you leave me.

Finis

I will be working on the next chapter and will post it to you as soon as it's finished. I'm pretty excited for what I think will be happening in the next scene. I wish I could post again right away, but I've got two short papers to write, which are due tomorrow (Monday), so, alas, it's gonna go back to 'don't expect anything from me until the weekend.' (six days from today, (Sunday))

also, please forgive any typos.

And another huge hug and thank-you to everyone who reviewed last time. You guys are awesome! : D