Johnny moved on, wrapping his coat more closely to his sore body against the cold, too cold to even bother trying to rub away the dried stickiness on the side of his face. He imagined feeling the small amount of liquid sloshing around in his backpack with his movements, and he still felt squeamish, felt sick in a way he hadn't felt before when he'd taken someone's blood. Squeamish and wrong, that he'd just left the guy there, took what he wanted-needed and left. He shivered from more than the cold. No amount of stupid gummy bears was payback enough for that.

But it was too late now, he was already moving, moving as fast as he could without outright running, too hurt to run, he just had to find her while it was still dark, and everything would be okay. He can just see enough in front of him, the chill of the night dragging in a faint mist with it, coating heavy on the air he breathed, tasting of tire rubber and wet town and an early, dirty winter.

At some point he'll hope for actual snow. Some snow would be fun, maybe cheer them all up from...from everything else. But for now it's just dark and cold and wet and gross and he's still hurting and he can't feel his face and he can't find Mavis. His breaths fog up in front of his eyes and past his face as he kept walking.

He's noticing there's some kind of light for him to see, though, and it's a very faint, treacherous glow coming up on an edge of the horizon, from the East, still blocked enough by the horizon itself and the many, many buildings, but it was still there.

And you know what that means. Time's ticking, Johnny...

He pulled his coat even closer with another shiver, unsettled, anxious, walking more quickly through the shadows of late nighttime that would soon be bleeding into the early morning's dusk, watching and listening for more soldiers or...or whatever those guys were, the Group people.

People calling monsters 'freaks', calling them not human.

Johnny didn't know what to think about that. I mean, yeah, no, they weren't humans, but that sure didn't make them something less than human, that didn't make them 'not people'. The thought that some people, that some humans thought that way threw Johnny off, now remembering pretty much confessing to Dracula outright that there were still some who couldn't accept monsters. But he'd never think he'd meet them like this, never thought those kinds of people could actually really be dangerous. Dangerous people who couldn't accept monsters who were very close by, and Mavis was out there all by herself.

He feels another strange stirring in his chest. Not like a dull rubber hook, but a bit gentler, more natural.

"Oh, hey, well now you show up." he grumbled, rubbing at his chest uncomfortably, "Could've used you, like, I don't know, five minutes ago? What the heck was that?"

He doesn't get a real answer, he'd never gotten to speak with the spell-thing again, but apparently he does get some kind of response. A faint feeling of warmth floods gently from his chest, outward to his fingertips and behind his eyes, flushing through just underneath his skin, leaving a strange crawling sensation. A bit of feeling comes back to him, he feels the soreness of his many bruises and injuries dull and fade to something more manageable, and there's no longer ringing stinging in his ears, the bleeding one seeming to heal with a brief, sharp, painful pop that quickly numbed. The quickness of the whole process made him stumble a step.

"Woah."

He flexed his hands in his pockets, still cold, but apparently he'd gotten a little energy boost.

"Um, thanks?"

Another brief pulse of warmth courses through his blood, lighter this time, making him shiver uncomfortably at the sensation going through his veins.

He was confused and still a bit disgruntled, even if relieved that it hadn't been painful this time. What was different now?

He'd probably have to talk to Jekyll later. Great.

"So, what now?" he said aloud, "Any more help would be awesome, seriously. But, um, no chest hooks? Please?"

No response, and no spell pulse this time. A bit disheartened, he continues to walk a little aimlessly.

Or kind of aimlessly.

As he walks he feels his body lean and his feet move and his head turn in gentle ways in a certain direction, something seeming to stir in his brain as he did. The feeling was unnerving, moving not entirely against his will, treading that fine line between conscious movement and simply continued motion, like walking downhill because going with the gravity was easier. Blinking, still uneasy, Johnny followed this strange guidance, hope rising again a little as he meandered through the alleyways with a renewed sense of purpose, moving quickly, following his weird new and hopefully Mavis-oriented compass.

"O-kay, then." He glanced around as he walked-jogged, "But if this is taking me to another maniac with an axe I'm gonna have you poked by the Doc again..."

Another warning pulse directly in his chest gently shuts him up and at least confirmed that he wasn't just crazy.

Still, Johnny was really starting to hate the feeling of being possessed. First that shadow dude, and now this thing...

Well, at least this was better than a chest hook.

He imagined the sloshing liquid in his backpack again, and fell into his depressed, anxious mood once more.

C'mon, Mavis...

He just wanted to be done with this night already.


. . .


The soldier was alone now in the dark alley, trying to cover up the torn remnants of their sleeve and the stinging dull throb of their arm covered with a bandage - a bandage applied clumsily in the dark by that brat's shaking hands, damn that kid and his useless apologies. The soldier slumped against the wall, breath wheezing in wet gargles through their mask. The bright little packets of gummy bears still lay untouched on their lap.

The sounds of the night are quiet for the most part, except for distant roars and screeches, mumbling, quiet clicks and slithering noises of something moving along on probably many tentacled legs. The soldier tried to move, tried to do something, anything, but they were too tired, too hurt, too injured, and realized that they really were alone. The true acknowledgement of weakness and loneliness was like a shock of cold water amidst the dull heat of pain, and a true sense of helplessness drives a spike of panic right into the brain.

As if in response to this despair something stirs and moves out of the gloom of the alley, unfolding from the darkness to look over the soldier with a curious gaze.

"Hello, there." It greeted. "Don't you look lost..."

It crouched in closer, reaching out towards the soldier with a hand that wasn't quite a hand.

"You can see me, yes?"

And judging by the increased pitch of the soldier's breathing and struggling to back away, they could.

"Sh, it's okay, it's okay." The hand ghosted over the blank, dull surface of the face-mask, too close, but not quite touching. "I can't hurt you here, don't worry. Ah, but that thing does look difficult to breathe in. If you'd let me, here, one moment." It carefully starts to take off soldier's mask. "Now, now, no need to fuss, just let me see your face." It tilted Its head to see the soldier, casually putting the helmet and face-shield on Its own head, albeit a bit lopsidedly, and the sound of desperate, watery breathing echoed high and thin through the alley.

". . . Ah, I see, you're female. Sorry, it was hard to tell under all that armor." It smiled in recognition, "Oh, now I remember you. You look a little worse for wear, but I'm sure you are still quite pretty, under all that mess. I remember you were a very cute little girl growing up, scared of that crawl space under your house. But that was such a good place to hide in, wasn't it? Hiding under there for hours, yes, it was scary under there, but not as scary as what was waiting outside, right? . . . Yes, of course I remember that. I was in there with you in the dark, and I was very happy to have your company. Now what happened to bring you here of all places? No, no, no, don't speak, speaking looks very painful for you right now. You don't need to worry, I think I can guess what happened, hm, broken ribs, punctured lung, stabbed, kicked, internal bleeding, and bruises galore. Hurts doesn't it...?"

It carefully picked up one of the packets Johnny had left for the soldier, testing its light weight before opening it neatly by the seams and eyeing the candies inside. It looked towards the soldier again, analyzing and almost sympathetic. "Ahh, but poor you. You've dealt with bad people all your life, right? Grew up with them, lived with them, even beaten many of them, once you got stronger. Even these bad people who just beat you, they shouldn't have been so hard to handle. But times have changed, right? This is so different than from what you've encountered before, so much stress, it's put you on edge, thrown you off, shaken you up, and now look at you. Slowly bleeding to death in an alley all alone. After all you've been through, for all you've struggled, how much does this truly hurt...? Is it scary?"

It leaned closer in interest, looking at the way the soldier's mouth weakly twisted in a blood-stained grimace of distress, her breathing more hoarse now.

"Uh-oh, I see that it is. You hear them out there, don't you?" It cocked Its head to the sounds of the night. "You never were trained for literal monsters, were you?"

None of the monsters were near here now, of course, and they most likely were all harmless. But when you're alone in the dark, when most things are asleep, enhancing the quiet, the sounds seemed to carry further, sound closer, sound larger, seem hungrier...

"Oh, but maybe it's not too late?" It gently set the open bag of gummies back on on her lap and proceeded to search through her remaining things. "The rest of your team is most likely dead by now, but at least your radio is... Oh, no, scratch that, it looks like they broke it. Kids these days, huh?"

It shook Its head, clicking Its tongue in mock disapproval, before looking back to the soldier, almost sympathetic. It reached into the bag to spear a few of the sticky candies onto Its fingertips, holding them up to whatever light could reach into this place, such pretty, sugary colors. It stuck a few of them into Its mouth, curious, and then made a nasty, inhuman expression that made the soldier whimper to see. It didn't tend to make a habit of eating or tasting, and unpleasantly recalled that It didn't really like sugar.

"Urgh, pardon that. Well, anyway, you're going to die here, there's no helping that." That's why It was really talking to this poor soul, anyway. It rarely found company It felt comfortable confiding to. "But I can help you, in a way. Your death is worthy." It reassured Its unwilling, half-listening audience. "Technically you might even be considered that kid's first kill, at least through neglect, maybe involuntary manslaughter if you really want to push labels."

Its head twisted to take in where the soldier clutched feebly at her arm. Of all her wounds this thing was just a needle prick, nothing of consequence. It was barely a bit of soreness on the inside of her elbow, hardly a kitten's batting paw compared to the rest of her pains. But It found this injury to be the most fascinating one on her, the most significant. A sign of progress, if a little disappointing in its lack of conviction, the lack of true resolve. Still, It would recognize progress when It saw it. "But that's not how I really want it to go, no." It then admitted, "There needs to be a little more, oh..." It paused to search for the word. "There needs to be a little more meat to this sort of thing."

Yes, meat sounded right. Meat, flesh, substance, sustenance, satiation.

"There needs to be a little more intent on his part. He meant well by you. He couldn't have even really saved you if he tried, so you won't be his true first. But you're important, don't ever doubt that you're important. I'll make sure of it. I can't keep you from dying, but I can make sure you won't be forgotten, not by any of them, not by anyone who has hurt you. Like, start with that kid I just talked about for example, that little 'smartass', the one who gave you these."

It held up one shiny little red gummy bear to her face, smiling at the brief harsher expression It saw on her face behind the panic and pain.

"Yeah, I don't like him either. So let me tell you what I can do." Its voice dropped into something almost soothing as It spoke to the soldier, "I can make sure he won't forget you. Ever. I can make sure you appear in his nightmares. I can make sure you'll be his dark little secret that eats away at him in bits by weighty little bits, I can make sure he will wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night at the memory of what he started with you, and I can make sure he will feel a regret so heavy and sick that he will hardly ever again even breathe in easy conscience... Would you like that?"

. . .

"Okay, yes, maybe that's a little extreme. But at this rate that's going to happen anyway, with or without us. I just wanted to let you know that you've really contributed to something great here with that kid, and that you could contribute just a little bit more after your death."

. . .

"Ah, I see what you're thinking. You're thinking there's a catch, right? Well, to be honest, I need you. Or, ah, more specifically, I need your face. I collect faces, you know. It's sort of a hobby. Well, more of a compulsion, really, but I've learned to make the most of it. And I would really like your face. In a few minutes you won't really be using it anyway."

It pressed the little red gummy bear to the soldier's mouth, waiting patiently until she'd eat it, before watching her weak chewing with interest, seeing the blood leaking from between the soldier's lips with each effort. It could hear the little squishing noises of the gummy between her teeth until at last she swallowed it, almost choking on it. It tilted Its head after hearing a continued 'silence' in the look of her eyes.

". . . I can see that you're reluctant. Well, that's fine, I don't really need your permission to take your face anyway. I just like it when someone does something of their own volition. It's a sort of gratifying feeling. I'm a big supporter of free will."

It fed her another one, appreciating the probable contrast of taste for her between the sugar and her own blood.

"And maybe I lied a little when I said I can't hurt you. It's just a question of what kind of 'hurt' you're thinking about. Food for thought."

It then began feeding her the rest of the bag, one by one, almost kindly.

"For instance," It continued thoughtfully, "One thing I can tell you now is that you're not really important. You don't really matter. No one is really going to remember you, no matter what I do. You're only a soldier, one of many. And in this," It gestured broadly to the alleyway they sat in, "In this story you're merely a minor catalyst, a useful but expendable bit part character, a spatter of guilt on his mind that will fade with time and...worser things. Here you will die, all by yourself, and no one will know, care, or cry. Like so many others gone, you will fall by the wayside, finished and forgotten. Even I will eventually forget you after this, because your sad little story is ending here, left for your monsters. The monsters won here, sweetheart, and there's nothing we can do about it."

With that It fed her another gummy, and there was the real fear now in her eyes, the lonely, scared little girl inside the soldier, despairing and delicious.

When they were almost done with the second bag, It spoke up, "Anyway, I'm on my way to see someone. I'd still like your face, you know, to look right for the occasion. It's nothing personal, but I just find it fitting, wearing that kid's mistake for a face. I just remember how it's been for the longest time, with soldiers."

It reached to wipe a trail of blood from the chin, carefully tracing a finger up the thin curve of flesh of the hollow cheek through the layer of grime on the skin, feeling the warm tears running from the eyes now, Its touch tender in the mockery of a caress.

"In times of war, I remember that instinctive unease that the face of a soldier - that any soldier could bring to others, whether that soldier was good or bad, it didn't matter. A soldier is a soldier that you can only hope is on your side when they're marching around with their guns..."

It let the empty wrappers of the gummy bear packets crumple and drift to the ground, shiny and glistening with bright, childish colors. It leaned in closer, examining this face, tucking stray, tufty bits of sweat-sticky hair behind one of the ears, smiling at the face, intently watching the dull glassiness begin to take over the eyes, the lids beginning to droop over the bright whites of wide-eyed fear. She was almost bled out now, almost gone.

"I'm going to take your face now." It took up both hands now, cupping her face and carefully angling Its own, "Now I know, I know, you're scared. And that's okay, that's a good thing. Just remember what your mother told you, yes? What you did when you were scared? That you told yourself when you were a little girl hiding in that scary crawl space under the house, hiding from the scarier things outside? That there's 'no such thing as monsters'?" Its voice changed slightly, deceptively gentle and more feminine. "Keep thinking that now, c'mon, you can repeat after me. Just like your mother said, there's no such things as monsters..." It leaned in closer still, almost intimately, the helmet on Its head bumping awkwardly against her sweating forehead, and Its mouth that wasn't quite a mouth slowly opened impossibly wider, even as Its voice was still heard clearly.

"There's no such things as monsters..."

A fitful, protesting gurgle bubbled up from a blood-choked throat, resolving into the soldier weakly mouthing along even as she silently cried.

"That's right, that's right, there's no such things as monsters..."

Except there was. Even in the soldier's last seconds she'd hear the sounds the monsters made while going along their ways, her mind making up all manner of horrible, fantastic visions to match the sounds, such visions making her want to block her ears and shut her eyes and hide. But there was no scary crawl space to hide in this time, It kept her eyes wide open, Its fingers that weren't quite fingers sliding through her hair and into her ears and inside her head, and here she was, exposed, vulnerable, alone, afraid, and dying. But that was okay, being scared was okay, It was here with her, just as It had been with her back in the hiding places of her childhood, and It was there with the little girl who became a soldier, there with her for the rest of her life.

It was there with her right until she died.

"And there...we...go." It said at last when all was done, before slipping Its fingers free, letting the head go for it to flop back lifelessly against the wall. "That wasn't so hard . . . You really did have a decent face," It noted, brushing off Its hands before feeling along Its own cheek now, working the kinks out of Its jaw as It stood to leave the body sitting there, let some scavenger take care of it, some 'freak' - such a rude term. "You could've fed yourself a little better, but still not too bad." With that last comment, It promptly forgot about the corpse, losing all interest in a small ended story. It was time to get on with business.

It lowered the face-shield on the acquired helmet, laughing a little to Itself about the irony of wearing a mask over a borrowed face. It adjusted Its new clothes, and then went to recover another radio among the bodies of what had once been her precious team. It found one, seeing it was unbroken, and It smiled before speaking into it, using the voice of this new face. Such a nice, useful face...


. . .


Mavis's walk was a bit more relaxed, moving quietly if quickly up the walls and over roofs, doing her best to avoid the streets and potential places for webs, contemplative as she headed back towards the Hostel, a place that she was close to calling home. Their home, Johnny's and Mavis's. No, not home. Just a Hostel, she reminded herself, just a place to stay at until they could go Home. The more open chill of the air was invigorating to her after the coolness of the warehouse, pleasant to her skin and scalp, reminding her of winter flights back Home. She can barely feel the wind through her shadowy jacket. The vampire's breath doesn't mist, though she cups her fingers briefly over her mouth to warm them.

After lowering them again, she lifts her face to the faint stars, noting the lightening of the sky. Better hurry. "So, what do you guys think?" she quietly asks the air.

In response her own shadow pools and warps, the various shadows around her body twist and waft like tendrils off her person as the shadow boys manifest.

"I thought she was spooky," said Curio, the thin shadows of his arms hugging around her neck as he seemed to ride on piggyback, Mavis absently supporting the weight of him that was as nonexistent as a feather's. "Nice but spooky. And we don't like the no-shadows of webs. But she may be nice, just lonely?"

"Not nice. Dangerous." Bossman cut in, drifting along in front of Mavis, sounding shrewd, "That loneliness is dangerous. I did not like her, or how she looked at you."

"How she looked at me?" Mavis asked, confused.

"What he means," John added in explanation, hovering at her side, "Was that the Lady was hungry. Hungry for friends and hungry for food. They are both right, that she is nice, but she is also dangerous. I think she's been alone for so long, 'hungry' for so long, that she might easily confuse those two hungers."

"Spooky." Curio repeated with faint worry, hugging a little more closely to Mavis.

"But she could help us," Mavis reminded the boys, brushing a reassuring hand through the shadow of Curio's arm.

"And maybe I could help her, too. It'll be fine," she told them, trying to tell that to herself as well, "She wouldn't hurt me."

"Maybe," John still seemed reluctant, "But she does concern me."

"And she is still dangerous," Bossman insisted, "Around you she may be fine. But around your consort—" At Mavis's stern glare he sullenly corrected himself. "—around your human, she might not be so fine, when it's humans that she—"

"I know," Mavis interrupted with a groan, "I'll...I'll work something out on that."

"Your human might not like it either, with what she is," Curio observed innocently, "Even if the Lady would be okay with things, he might not be."

At that Mavis chewed her lip, concerned that she hadn't really thought about that.

The spider might be able to help them get home, and Mavis couldn't let the spider stay here, either. But how would Johnny see it? She was sure she could keep him safe, but heck, Mavis knew enough to know he wouldn't be okay that the Lady had eaten humans, even she could see it was bad, but she could get him to understand the Lady and be okay with the plan, right? Mavis felt sick again, wondering how Johnny might feel if he knew. And she had tried to fix things, and she'd...

"I'll work on it." she repeated to them quietly, fighting the queasiness, feeling uneasy enough to make them promise to "Please don't tell him about the humans..."

"We won't. But you may still wish to talk to your human about it." John told her, his concern showing clearly, "You have been bothered, he could make you better."

"I'll be fine," Mavis assured them with a weak smile, "Besides, I have you guys, right?"

"Right!"

"Yes!"

That cheered up Curio, and Bossman clearly looked pleased, puffing up, but John was quiet.

It's not for another few blocks that Mavis sees a human walking down below, and another look shows to her surprise that the human was Johnny.

She grimaced to herself, shock and guilt making an uncomfortable twist in her guts.

He shouldn't be out here...!

"We'll lay low now." the shadows whispered hastily, vanishing.

He'd already stopped and seemed to be looking around, confused. She silently dropped in front of him, making him jump, immediately meeting his eyes.

Johnny stared, mouth gaping silently for a moment, before he took a breath.

"WHAT THE HE—?!"

Mavis quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, frantic, shushing him and close to swearing at the same time, "Shhfhhfft!"

One of the first things she notices as she drags him out of the open street, still muffling his angry noise, is that the feel of his skin under her hand is wrong, disturbingly wrong, damp and crusty with something sticky to the touch.

As soon as they were out of the open he yanked off her hand, proceeding to hiss in a whisper, "What the hell was that?" He didn't let go of her hand, instead trying hard to look at her in the dark, holding her close, "Are you okay?" he asked her anxiously, checking her hair, her eyes, still tense, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head under his touch, looking back at him, her eyes more ideal for the night, looking over his face.

"No, I'm..."

Her eyes widened at what she saw.

"Oh my God..."

Smears of blood half-painted it, mostly dried but some still fresh, some spattered on his glasses, parts of it smudged across his face from where he'd obviously tried to wipe it away, and she searches for the wound, ignoring his attempts to get her attention as her fingers drift up to his hairline, and she found it...

"Mavis..." Johnny questioned again in warning.

"Oh my God, your ear..." Her hands shook as she tried to look more closely, her voice shook. "What happened to you...?"

"I went looking for you," he told her brusquely, moving his head away, glaring, "Mavis, why did you do that?"

"I'm sorry, I," I thought you'd still be asleep. "I-I was coming right back."

"But you might not have. And why?"

"Johnny, please, not now, your ear—"

"Forget about my stupid ear!" he snapped, "You..." He hung his head, relieved and frustrated. "You scared me, Mavis..."

"I'm sorry." she mumbled, still leaning close to his face, distracted by what she could see, all that blood...

"What happened?" he asked plaintively. "Did you...did you find...?"

"No, I didn't." she reassured him quickly, "Nothing happened." She repeated to him again, to herself, "Nothing at all..."

He slumped wordlessly against the wall, tired, letting her finger the edges of his ear, wincing when she reached a still tender spot, "Easy, Mav."

"Sorry." She leaned in closer, looking carefully, her face lined with worry, and before he could react she quickly darted up and dragged her tongue in one quick thorough lick over his ear, making him flinch and stifle a yelp at the stinging pain.

"Christ, Mavis...!" he whimpered, holding his ear, feeling the cartilage tingle and sting numbly from the effects of her saliva.

"Sorry." she repeated hastily, backing off quickly and wiping her mouth, trying to ignore the taste of his blood, watching to make sure the healing was working.

She was worried. She knew a vampire's saliva could heal skin wounds, but the actual reparation of flesh...?

Johnny squinted in the dark, mistaking her anxiety for something else.

He swallowed, "A-are you...?" Johnny shuffled reluctantly in the dark, still holding his ear, remembering that liquid weight in his backpack in the dark, and a nauseous hope rose in him. "Mavis, are you - d-did you want some...?"

She froze, before shaking her head quickly, "No, no, I'm..." The taste of his blood was good on her tongue, but bad in her stomach, she swallowed against the bile in her throat, forcing down the uncomfortable knotting in her guts. "No. I'm not hungry."

Johnny blinked. The hope became a sinking weight.

"You're not...? ... Mavis, nothing...really happened, right...?" he asked again, a note of anxiety in his voice.

"Nothing."

He frowned. He knew that it wasn't really a 'nothing', he knew that kind of nothing, it was a nothing that was a something that she wasn't telling him.

"You're sure?"

Her eyes glowed in warning, "Yes, Johnny. I'm fine."

At that his jaw clenched. But she was getting mad, and Johnny was tired, still mad himself, but too tired. He looked around, and they both noticed how light the air was beginning to get, the darkness was fading. He shook his head, taking her hand. "Let's just go home." he muttered.

Mavis almost hesitated, before she went along with him, ". . . Okay."

Their walk back was quiet and careful, neither really speaking as they took to the shadows, Johnny automatically moving and shielding her from whatever light was beginning to show with the morning. Mavis noticed the tension in his shoulders, the stiffness in his grip when he held her hand.

She tried running her thumb in a comforting gesture against his, and watched how he relaxed slightly, readjusting their hold to something more comfortable.

"We're still gonna talk later." she heard him say, and she frowned to herself, and she didn't respond.

"I know." she finally said, thoughts churning in her mind about what she should say to him when that 'later' came around.

She'd still have to see Old Lady again first...


. . .


"How's your back?" he asked her quietly when they made it back to their room, already shrugging off his coat, the cool air in the room growing light from the morning.

Mavis scowled a little. Always that question. "It's fine." she muttered, a little cross, tugging her jacket closer around her body.

She heard him groan, "Mavis—"

"I said I'm fine, Johnny." She glared at him over her shoulder, his blood seen more clearly, "Geez, right now you're the one who's in worse shape than m—"

"Mavis," he cut her off in agitation, finally snapping, his frustration growing, "Please, could you just FOR ONCE?!"

His shouting startled them both, he cutting himself off, she taking a surprised step back, both their eyes wide.

Jonathan looked at her and seemed to deflate, hands seeking to strangle the air falling slack at his sides.

"Could you please...?" he mumbled, shaking his head, taking his glasses off to pinch between his eyes, his head aches, "I'm sorry, just, please stop saying that...?"

She blinked, unsettled. "Johnny, I..." Her hands still hold her jacket closed, her eyes warier now, but pitying as she looked her zing over, opening her mouth in maybe an explanation, or maybe some sort of apology, but instead she settled on telling him, "You're a mess."

That got a bitter grin. "Gee, I wonder how that happened." was the dry mutter.

The vampire's eyes narrowed at that, but he was worried, he was tired. She continued, taking a step closer, "I mean it." she persisted, "You're covered in..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry," He settled, self-consciously rubbed at his cheek, making a face at the dried stickiness he still felt, not missing her tone of voice, "I'll clean up."

"Let me?" she asked as he put his glasses back on, and he froze, wondering, before she simply took his hand and gently tugged, "You might miss some." she told him.

He blinked, before giving a small, weary smile, making her smile in return, before he held her hand firmly and bluntly tugged back hard enough to make her stop.

"What if I told you 'it's fine'?" he then asked her, still smiling, but with a twist to the smile now that let her catch his taunt. Her eyes narrowed again, stubbornly quiet until he added, "C'mon, Mavey, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours...? Or, well, I mean, agh, you know," He grimaced helplessly, "That sounded a lot smoother in my head."

She snorted at the bad joke, looking him over before finally shaking her head, "Okay. Okay, you win, fine." she sighed in surrender, making to take off her jacket, before he quickly moved to take it off for her, surprising her, but she let him.

"I know this thing's supposed to be made of leather," he commented, holding the strange duster in his hands as it draped over them like a fine, oily liquid, watching bits of shadow waft off of it like some kind of bizarre after-effect, "But heck it feels weird."

"I like it." she told him reproachfully as he put it aside. "It feels good on me."

"It sure looks good on you, too." he replied with a smile.

At her reluctant chuckle his smile grew.

She was then taking off her shirt before he stopped her, taking her hand again to lead them to one of the smaller back rooms.

"I want to take a shower." he announced.

Mavis blinked, "You sure? The water..."

They were a lot better now with their supply, but the complex was limited for the heat, meaning they had to ration their washing days.

"Mavis, I'm tired, I'm hurting, I feel gross, and I'm wrung out like nobody's business. You've said it yourself, I'm a mess. Please, let me have this."

"Okay, okay, you can, but let me go get you some—"

"Um, actually I was thinking as in, you know, um, you and me...?"

Mavis's face warmed up to match the blush currently on his own face, he not quite meeting her eyes as he kept taking them towards the washroom.

"It's small..." she mentioned in a quiet question, quickly moving to support him under the arm when he stumbled, he wincing at a throbbing sore in his side.

He leaned his head affectionally onto hers as they made it there.

"I think we can work something out." he told her, hugging her closer.

. . .

Now they were both calm and relatively clean after a simple lukewarm rinse, doing their best with what they had.

He let her clean his face and his ear, washing his own blood from his hair and skin, Johnny making a point not to mention it when he noticed that she strictly used only her hands, letting the pinkish water flow ignored and untasted down the drain, revealing his left ear with a clear chunk missing from it, already healed, letting her trace the missing edge, the both of them silent. And now when she was done she was letting him look at her back.

"So, how's it look now?" she asked, self-conscious, almost hugging the wall to keep out of the weak spray of water.

He smoothed a gentle hand over her shoulder, moving her hair out of the way to see better.

A few bits of silence pass where he stares, and she squirms in discomfort.

"Well?" she persists, impatient, making him start.

"Um, it's... Well, how does it feel?" he asked in turn. He watched her roll her shoulders and bend her spine under his touch to test the pull of her own skin and he blushed, but tried to focus on the matter literally at hand, and that quickly sobered him up.

". . . It feels weird," she admitted, frowning at the feel of her skin under his fingers, "Not good."

"It still hurts?"

"No, no, just...weird."

"It still looks healed up anyway." he commented awkwardly, before pressing, "You feel this?"

She is still beautiful, but he doesn't like how he can still feel the bumps of her spine, seeing them stand out like this.

"Yeah," she shivered, "Um, still weird though."

He eased the pressure, "Sorry, sorry."

". . . Seriously, how is it?" she asks again.

He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head, before reaching out of the stall to feel for his phone, they both shiver at the cool air that rushes in.

"I'll take a picture." he murmured to her, holding up the phone carefully.

Mavis sighed, used to this ritual.

When they both were dry and clean they were sitting at the makeshift table, looked over the picture on the screen. Johnny looked worried, while Mavis looked grim.

Over time her back had gotten irregular patches of darker skin wherever the scar tissue was, and now a fine line of dark hair was growing down her spine, also growing slightly across her shoulders and in faint patches on her back wherever the dark skin was, clearly seen with the dampness from the water, making a sharp contrast against the paleness of her skin, a contrast that had grown much clearer in recent days.

"It's gotten worse." she sighed, clearly dejected.

"I wouldn't call it bad..." Johnny mumbled.

"Johnny, this's weird and it's ugly." she stated flatly.

"I don't think it's ugly."

"I still do," she protested, then glanced at his expression, and felt bad, "But...thank you."

Johnny nodded glumly, and they both looked at the picture for a second more before Mavis looked away.

"Delete it," she told him, making him grumble.

"Mavis, it doesn't look that bad..."

"I don't like it," she protested, "Please, just delete it?"

"We'll have to face this sooner or later," he insisted, holding up the phone to show her, "We can go to Jekyll and he could—"

"I don't want him in on this," Mavis growled gently, quickly calming down, pleading, "Johnny, please. This isn't a big deal, just...just delete it. Please."

Johnny frowns, but then sighs, doing what she says, and lets her inspect his ear again.

"I'm sorry." she murmured sadly, tracing the new ragged remains in the curve of cartilage.

"It's okay," he told her, taking her hand and pressing to his face, before making a grin, "I think this gives me a bit of a badass look though, right? What do you think?"

He mocked a tough, manly pose, and that got her to laugh, which involuntarily turned into a yawn.

Johnny noted this, calming down a little, "Maybe you should take a nap." he suggests.

Mavis gives him a look, but doesn't argue, nodding quietly before kissing his cheek.

He kisses her back, before asking her if she was hungry, if she wanted to eat something before she slept.

She gave him another look, a different look that he didn't quite like.

"I'm not hungry." she told him simply, thanking him before saying 'good night' and going back to their bed, leaving Johnny alone at the table.

Johnny didn't believe her.

He couldn't believe her, not after all that mess. He remembered what he had in his backpack and nearly felt sick, couldn't take that, not when he remembered how she looked at his blood. He didn't believe her when she said nothing happened last night. She left, she'd been gone for a long time, and when she comes back, she looks like she's ill and she says she's not hungry, and he can't believe her when she says that.

And if he has to believe that she really wasn't hungry...

What's he supposed to take from that?

Either way, Jonathan was worried, and Mavis's behavior wasn't helping.

He took out his phone again, looking over the pictures he had of her back, concerned.

It didn't matter if he'd deleted that one, he'd taken others back there.

He felt a little guilty, but he felt his worry was justified. And now apparently she was willing to sneak out to do...whatever she was doing.

Hopefully last night was a one time thing for her, but if stuff was going to get too crazy, Johnny was definitely going to have to talk to the doctor.


. . .


Author's Note: Hello there, reader! A quick hello to you, and announcing the 50th chapter milestone! Metaphorical confetti is tossed with abundance and exuberance! (Good gosh this whole thing is a long read, isn't it?) As for this chapter, I know that this was a long one to take in, so if you feel it would be an easier read with portioning, please let me know and I would be happy to do so.

Thank you for sticking with me thus far, your presence and your thoughts are always welcome.