A/N: Yoyo, fair moomins! I fear I may have overdone it in this chatper...lol. I was watching a wee bit too much She's All That, where the actors over-react to EVERYTHING. And I guess it got rubbed off on me.
Get off....ew, get OFF....AAAAAARGGGG - NOT THE FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
dreamingducky: Hehehe. I'm updating...
deadly-terrors: What other kind of watsits do you get??? Fine. You get nothing for your insolence.
SweetestReject: I really think I should stop posting with cliffies on the end...Lol. I JUST CAN'T STOP, THOUGH!!
Nice Hayley: "So beautifully designed like knitting or embroidery." - excuth me? Delilah doesn't knit. She cross-stitches. I don't think you should die so that Paul and Suze can be together....Somehow, that doesn't strike me as normal... Heh heh heh. The bees are coming, Hayley...they're coming for you... Buzzzzzz buzzzzzz buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
Pens in potatoes: Your reviews make me smile. Or that might be gas...
DancinSweethart: The mere THOUGHT of mens dangly bits makes me giggle hysterically. A wet fish being slapped in your face is a good cure, I find.
Roomate513: Continuing....
xxreixx: I'm sorry my previous chapter was depressing....NOT. Sorry I confused you too....Lol. And NEVER will I ignore one of my reviewers. NEVER. Okay, maybe sometimes. But I am eviiiiiiiil.
Alenor: You're not dumb. That "uh oh" was supposed to be confuzzling. If you picked up on what it was for, well done you, smart ass. If not, then you are in my league! AND I'M WRITING THIS THING!!! Well, okay. So my slave monkeys ar writing this thing. But what's the difference, really? EVERYONE likes really quick updates. EVERYONE. Even I do. But sometimes, Fate intervenes....as does school. That bitch. Oops. Sorry. LANGUAGE, DELILAH, YOU CHEEKY BOY!
znadias24: Hehehe. If I've still got your attention after this, it's purely the bight lights and pretty colours...
MystiqueAngelique: Haha, you're right. The balls thing was gross, I apologise. (I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I WROTE??? WHAT DID I WRITE ABOUT MEN'S DANGLY BITS????) Sorry this wasn't up "tomorrow" - I really am. But I had a panic attack about my coursework and I just HAD to go and eat all the food in my kitchen. It's the way God wanted it. And you are TOTALLY an AMAZINGLY STUNNING writer. UPDATE SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or feel the wrath of God...(moi)
UnangelicHalo: Lots of Jesse - but I doubt in the way you meant. Hehehe.
tt: You constitute as a weiner. Use this information wisely, my son.
Naomi: I updated!
Hauntedgurrl: Your insane ramblings make me smile like this: :)
wickedwiccan1: My friend (tt) is obsessed with wiccan and stuff like that. Perhaps you should take up stalking her for a hobby? Glad I made you laugh ;-P
Oenone: Wow. Deep stuff. I think you are Jesus. Please, correct me if I'm wrong.
Gen. Kenobi: Hehehe. I was quite proud of my cliffie. Though I think I may be pushing the cliffie limit now...Lol. You guys are losing patience (whoever sent that cheese sauce to me in a hate letter - I'm on to you, beyotch)
Teen-Princess: I always spell short words wrong. It's hilarious. No one at my school is discussing the Olympics!!! It's quite beautiful. I'm anything but genius level. I just get by because of my quirks. And sleeping with the board examiners helps, too. I'M JOKING, MY DAHLINKS. I VOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING SO CRUDE! Yeah, I only give 'em blowj- Hahaha. No. I'm stopping there. You are too young. Moowahahhaa.
Princess Alexiel: Wait a minute....aren't you deadly-terrors? Omigod. My mind can't cope. I have peeps emailing left right and centre, I keep getting reviews, AND I lost the last of my marble last weekend only to find it underneath my mattress with a DENT in it!!! MY MIND JUST CAN'T COPE!!!! Hehe doodling his name in your notebook: EXCELLENT!
CONTINUING THANKS FOR PEEPS WHO KEEP REVIEWING MY ONE-SHOTS!
You do make me laugh, you age-old geezers.
The good news?
I knew what it took to save Paul.
The bad news?
I didn't know exactly what to do to save him.
The even worse news?
There was no doubt about it. I wasn't going to live to see my seventeenth birthday. Which was only in a month.
Was I too young to make a will? How was I supposed to explain this to my mom, to David, to my friends, to Jesse? Was it going to painful, my death? Would Paul live on to be a famous Calvin Klein underwear model and dedicate his work to me? If so: phwoar. And boy, was I gonna be mad when I missed it.
And Jesse. What about Jesse? Was I gonna move on, leaving him trapped in this hell forever? Or was I gonna stay here with him, trapped in this hell forever?
Oh, God. I felt sick.
I ran to my bathroom and promptly chucked up my entire stomach, including the lining, it seemed. This was finally it.
This was my ending.
All those times when I'd been fighting ghosts or murderers, and I thought that eventful action was going to be the death of me. When really, I was going to die a quiet and completely dull death. Dull compared to getting beaten to a bloody pulp/getting shot/getting thrown off tall buildings.
I felt completely numb. All around. Inside and out. Like nothing mattered anymore, nothing had mattered before hand. It was all over. Without a clap and a bang. It would all be over.
"Querida! Nombre de Dios, are you alright?" Jesse crouched down beside but I resolutely avoided his eye, pushing myself up and washing my face. And cleaning my teeth – barf breath, I don't think so.
"I'm fine. Just felt a bit queasy." I pushed silently passed him into my bedroom.
Of course, being Jesse, he followed me.
"It's more than that. I can feel it. Tell me, querida."
He looked so full of concern that I didn't have the heart to tell him. What would he do without me? Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not being incredibly egotistic or bigheaded. But seriously. I was all Jesse had. I mean, I was the only one – except for Father Dom and Paul, but, excuse me, I'm not sure they can offer the companionship to Jesse as I can – who could actually see Jesse.
I tried to smile at Jesse and failed miserably. He looked so scared and worried and affectionate.
And suddenly, after feeling only numbness and nothingness, I felt angry and sad.
And I burst into tears.
Jesse leapt to my rescue, and scooped me up in his arms, soothing me with calming sea-and-whale noises. "Shhh..." he cooed, like it would all be fine. By shutting up, none of this would have happened.
Well, he could take his whale noises and stick them up his-
"Susannah, please. I don't understand. Tell me what's wrong."
After a few gulps in which I tried to swallow my tears – what was it with my big, hiccupping crying scenes today? Oh yeah. That's it. Being informed of my imminent death – I looked up at Jesse. He had shuffled me over to the edge of the bed and had sat down with me in his lap.
If it had been under any other circumstances, I would have been ecstatic.
Now, however, was not the time for snuggling.
"Well...you know Paul has that teeny-weeny problem of being dead and...not wanting to be dead?" Jesse frowned and nodded. I took a deep breath. "Well...I think I've figured out how to save him..."
Jesse's frown stayed in place, but to be fair, he did try and look like he was over-joyed at the news.
Or maybe that was gas.
(A/N: I couldn't resist!! You know when babies look like they're really happy, and then their face scrunches up and it turns out it was just gaseous bowl movement? Well, picture that happening to Jesse...)
Jesse's voice remained neutral. "And?"
Well. If he was going to act like that...
"Itcouldverywellbethedeathofme," I rushed out.
Jesse's lips twitched in an indisputable smile. "Why don't you tell me from the beginning," he said. In an unquestionable attempt to calm me down.
I hiccupped a couple of time. This helped somewhat. I repeated what Dr. Slaski said, except for the, "Of course, it may just be the death of you," part. Jesse nodded unattached to the information I just gave him.
"I don't see that as a reason to cry. No matter how annoying Slater is, I know you seem to particularly enjoy saving people's lives," he smiled dryly.
"Not any more," I muttered darkly.
Unfortunately, Jesse caught it.
"And why is that, querida?"
"See – I have to give Paul what he's missing..."
"And he's missing life," Jesse filled in for me.
"Right. I have to give Paul what he's missing."
"Which is life," Jesse confirmed, looking very confused.
"Which in turn means I have to give up some of my life. Most probably all of my life, in order for Paul to revived."
I saw the facial reactions shoot through Jesse as he comprehended what I had just told him. Confusion, realisation, shock, fear, sadness, disbelief, and then...nothing.
Blankness.
"You have to give some of your life for Paul's?"
I gave a sheepish nod. Jesse's voice was forcibly steady. Like one slip and he would explode.
"No!" He objected. "It's too dangerous! No!" He sat up and basically threw me off his lap. You would've thought he'd want to hold me close to him, not make me fly halfway across my room.
"Jesse, it's the only way..." I began.
"Oh?" Jesse interrupted. "Is it? Or is that just what Paul's grandfather – who appears to be in a less-than-stable state of mind, might I remind you – is making you believe?"
I was shocked – seriously, deeply shocked – at what Jesse had said about Dr. Slaski. I mean, normally he's so refined and full of finesse. And here he was getting all angry at a crazy – I mean, ill – old man! Could the guy help that he was crazy – I mean, ill?
"I'm pretty sure Dr. Slaski doesn't want to purposeful kill me, Jesse," I said in a pretty sarcastic voice. Seriously, though. Why would he want to kill me? I was adorable. And he had warned me to stay away form his grandson – some proof of his remaining sanity.
"Oh? And how do you know? How do you know he doesn't have any control over his actions? He might not intentionally want to kill you, but he's ill, Susannah! He's not to be trusted!" Jesse was stomping round my room and my mirror was shaking.
"Well duh, Jesse! That's why we're going to research it more. But I was just warning you that maybe that was what going to happen! It makes sense, if you think about it!" I, too, was standing now.
Jesse stilled and stood facing me, his chest heaving. "What does Paul have to say about it? What does the reason for your impending death have to say about all of this, huh?" Before I could even say anything, Jesse held up his hand. "Let me guess. He's acting upset and regretful, but he's doing nothing to stop you sacrificing yourself like a lamb being sacrificed for a god?" Jesse sneered at me.
I don't know what was more upsetting – his reaction to what I had just told him, or the fact that maybe, maybe, Dr. Slaski was lying and wanted me dead. Neither was exactly an enlightening thought.
"Actually," I said haughtily, "he doesn't want to go through with it. He said he doesn't want me to harm myself in any way for him."
Jesse took an intimidating step towards me but I didn't back down. "Harming you is different from murdering you, Susannah," he said ironically.
"He wouldn't be murdering me," I said in frustration. I felt like stomping my foot, I really did. "I would be committing suicide for him. Willingly." That didn't make it sound any better, did it?
Jesse flinched at my words and visibly balked. "No...I won't let you do it, querida," he said, like finally it was dawning on him what was going on.
He leapt forward and grabbed my hands in his, pulling me flush against him. His eyes were imploring mine and I wanted to tear my gaze away...but I couldn't.
"You have a life, Susannah! You can be so great and wonderful! You can be loved and wanted and needed and..." He broke off desperately, searching for more pleas.
I stood firm, but even I could hear the quaver in my voice. "And so can Paul. He can probably be greater than me. He's smarter and richer and already has much better odds at living than I do. How often do you see him stuck in hospital with a bruised and battered body, all courtesy of an angry ghoul?" Jesse opened his mouth to object but I cut him off at the pass. "I've been nearly-killed so many times, Jesse," I said, my tone gentler than before, "maybe this is finally it? Maybe Fate has led me here? God obviously doesn't want me sticking around, Jesse. This could be my calling."
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't giving up.
I was giving in.
And yes, there is a difference. I was letting Fate wind its course, not trying to fight it anymore. Not trying to change my destiny. If my fortune said I was due to die; I wasn't going to fight or deny it anymore.
I was majorly upset, though, that God wanted to bid farewell so greatly. I mean, he wasn't exactly being subtle with the whole Get-Susannah-Simon-off-my-green-and-gracious-earth hints. If anything, I would say God was hiring hit-men to finish me off.
But now...now I was willing to accept that maybe God wasn't one of my biggest fans. Everyone knows that what God wants, God gets.
And it appeared God wanted me dead.
Thanks, God. No, seriously. I only give up an hour of my valuable life every weekday to listen to your clergymen (and women) drone – I mean, preach – about your righteous ways, all to make me a better person for the benefit of everyone. But obviously that's not enough. Obviously God has chosen to ignore all that, and ignore the fact that for the past fourteen years of my life, I've been protecting innocents from getting harmed or murdered by upset ghosts.
I'm a Charmed one. I'm Alyssa Milano, without the boobs and ever-changing hairstyle.
I fully appreciate normal-looking hair. Not I've-just-had-the-dude-from-the-Texas-Chainsaw-Massacre-hack-my-now-abnormally-short-fringe-to-pieces-looking hair.
Jesse let out a growl and twirled round, punching his arm in a full circle. If he had been standing near anything, his fist would have connected with it. As it was, he wasn't standing near anything. But he didn't need physical contact. He had his superpowers, didn't he? So with that wide arc of his arm, he managed to send all my loose bottles and bit and bobs on the top of any surface flying.
They all crashed to the floor in an array of plastic, glass, powders, liquids, smells, and colors. I stared at the mess, then at Jesse. Then at the mess again.
Then at Jesse again.
I stayed staring at Jesse for a long while. He just stared up at the ceiling. "What the hell did you do that for?" I screamed in anguish.
Some of that perfume was expensive! Not to mention my brand new photo frame I had set up there – it was a picture of Gina and CeeCee and Adam all in a group hug standing on the beach. Adam was making a very exaggerated leering visage, CeeCee's eyes were sparkling with amusement, and Gina was...well, Gina. A smirk, a cocky tilt of her head, and an "I welcome you to Ginaland" glint in her eye.
Said photograph was now lying on my floor with a great big crack splitting its glass cover in half.
I thumped Jesse on the arm. "What the hell were you thinking?" I repeated, more anger evident this time.
"Suze!" I heard a voice from downstairs. "Is everything okay?"
I growled at Jesse before turning my head – eyes still locked on Jesse's upturned face – toward my door. "Yeah. I just...slipped and fell into my dresser. I'm fine!"
I'm pretty sure I heard my mom make some "tutting" noises.
I faced Jesse full on.
After what seemed like a couple of hours, Jesse slowly looked down at me.
I felt my mouth drop open in horror and my eyes widen so much it hurt. It was like two different people were pulling my face in two opposite directions.
And I'm pretty sure my heart stopped too. I had to thump my chest really hard to get it going again. All the while, gaping up at Jesse like he had just told me KFC chickens wanted to be made into tasty little chicken burgers and actually forced the old Colonel to lock 'em up and then chop 'em up.
I was looking at Jesse like that because his eyes were glistening.
Now, I'm not talking about moonlight-reflection-glistening. Or I'm-so-happy-I-could-burst-glistening.
I'm talking about tear-drops-building-up-glistening.
His eyes were swimming as he continued to stare down at me, looking so lost and forlorn I could my own tears burning horribly.
And then he reached out his hand to touch my cheek, and a single drop spilled over. Trickling down his high-sculpted cheeks, weaving a tiny trail across his smooth skin.
"I won't let you go," he whispered. And I shook my head. Though whether it was because I was disagreeing, agreeing, or dismissing the blunt but gentle statement I don't know. His hand cupped my chin and fierce ferocity came over him, as he gripped my chin tightly and spoke through his teeth. "I can't let you go!"
We stared at each other some more.
And then some more.
I had no idea what exactly he was thinking. His eyes were searing into mine with so much passion I was getting dizzy, getting swept away by it all.
If this was how he was reacting now, how was he going to react when – if – Paul's grandpa's theory was confirmed? I mean, now we were just speculating. We didn't have any hard facts, or anything.
What was he going to do when – if, if – I really was gone?
Suddenly all I wanted to do was tell him it was all a big hoax. Tell him it wasn't true. Tell him I was lying.
Of course I couldn't. So I settled for the only, weaker, option.
"Look, Jesse...It may not happen, okay? I might not need to die or...anything else. Maybe Grandpa Slater just popped a few too many pills?"
Jesse, however, remained unconvinced. He just kept shaking his head, tears making his eyes shine brightly, even though their color was darker than a witch's cat. "How many times have you been through a near-death experience? How many times have you pulled through? How many dangers have you fought and come through? And yet you're willing to let yourself be taken by such a...serene way! The Susannah I knew would want to die in battle, to die fighting."
Jesse was beginning to look angry now, the sadness still etched on his face, but the anger painted between the lines, glowing blood red and fresh. "This isn't you," he insisted. I was inclined to tell him otherwise, but thought better of it. "This is what Paul is making you think. Making you do. He's being selfish and cruel. You don't want to die," he maintained.
"Of course I don't want to die, Jesse!" I yelled heatedly. "I want to live a long and progressive life with you and my friends and family! But I don't have a choice! Why can't you see that? You tell me I'm not a murderer, than prove your faith in me! I am not a murderer, Jesse. You know it," I said sadly. "And that only leaves one other option."
I could see the tenacious fury in Jesse's eyes, the reluctance to back down. He was adamant to believe that there was another way when there wasn't.
Suddenly hope flared in his eyes, truth and revelations. "No," he whispered huskily, "there is another way." He looked at me and his eyes were hard, boring into me relentlessly. "I'm going to see this Dr. Slaski." I opened my mouth to argue, but didn't see any point.
I kind of wanted Jesse to check, anyway. Just to be sure. I was too afraid to go, too afraid of my fears being confirmed. Maybe if Jesse went...the pain wouldn't be so much?
Yeah, and Winnie the Pooh carried a machete and a P90 semi-automatic in his ubiquitous honey pot.
"Then," Jesse declared, "I'm going to see Slater." The horror struck me just as Jesse's blue sparkles disappeared. Slater, not Slaski. He had already said he was going to see Slaski.
That meant...that meant he was going to go see the other Slater.
Paul.
And that meant very, very bad news for Paul.
I wasn't a murderer, and neither was Jesse. But I've seen Mother, May I Sleep With Danger. I know what love can do to a guy.
And it isn't always pretty.
