AN:Hey all you happy people. Sorry for the really late update. My computer died like a day after the last chapter update. Like seriously, I turned it on and it said it couldn't find the operating system. Dammit. So, I bought a new awesome one that can actually handle games too! (my old one was a wimpy netbook that couldn't even handle Minecraft. Or Youtube.) But since it's a custom built thing it took forever to ship out. Pshaw. And THEN I got addicted to Lord of the Rings Online. (If any of you play it as well, send me a note/pm/email or whatever :3 ) But I've managed this, and now that I'm back in the groove, the updates'll come normally again, haha.

ALSO. I just got some absolutely adorable, amazing art of the group 83 You guys have to check this out. She got them all down awesome, and in adorable chibi form too!

http:/ /tinyurl. com/3oyws5y

(Just remove the spaces, and you're gold.) LOOK AT HOW AWESOME. Also, I hadn't given them eye colors until I gave the (awesome) artist the descriptions, so here's a little look at that too if you're interested.. ...Personally though and not to play favorites haha, but, I think Dustin is the cutest I: Lololol.
From left to right, in case you dunno who's who on your own, they are Deacon, Luca, Jenna, Dustin and Cole. Heeeee.

Chapter 6

Wishes to dust and hope hidden in truth

...

..

.

No amount of coaxing, urging, pleading or cursing pulled the girl from the pocket of her mind she'd closed herself into. Even when Deacon flattened a hand over her back and tried to rub some life back into her, she didn't respond. When a few minutes turned into many more, the vampires realized that all they could really do at that point was just sit back and watch, the walls she threw up too strong for any of them to break through and too tall to climb over. And one by one, they each realized, as frustrating and painful as it was, that she simply blocked them out. And there was nothing they could do about it.

"Just start...driving, Dustin," Luca said after a long stretch of utter silence. The girl had stopped sobbing a while ago, though her breaths still came in shaky and went out too fast. Her face was hidden but they all knew she was still crying. "We're wasting the night. We need to get to our next stop or we'll be stranded in the truck."

"Right. Yeah." Dustin turned, facing the steering wheel again, lifting his hands to grip it tightly. He didn't say another word as he started the engine again and finished the short trek through the woods, pulling onto the empty, dark road smoothly.

Deacon dragged a hand through his messy hair, closing his eyes tightly for a moment before letting out a breath and shifting his eyes to the window as the trees on the side of the road shot by. His other hand was still pressed over Jenna's back. "Luca," he called. "Hey, why don't you turn on the radio for a bit."

With an audible click, a soft, classic rock station came to life through the speakers, and Deacon didn't bother to mutter out a thank you.

The drive was long and silent save for the music, and hours stretched down a road surrounded by forest with no streetlights. Only when they passed a sign telling them that their destination was a mere thirty miles ahead did anyone break that silence.

"We're close now," Dustin said, reaching out and turning the radio down to the point where they would have needed to press an ear to the speakers to understand any of the lyrics. "...Jenna? How is she doing?"

"Same," Deacon said after a minute, and his fingers twitched over he back, his hand still there like some guardian gargoyle who refused to give up its post. But he shook her gently then, tilting his head a bit, eyes falling on he hair.

"Did you hear Dustin, Jenna?" Cole said softly from her other side. "We're-"

When she moved to sit up, Deacon felt it first, the muscles in her back tensing before he pulled his hand back. She lifted slowly, and Luca turned his head a bit the same instant Dustin looked in the rear view mirror at her. There was a zipper mark on her forehead from resting on her backpack and her eyes were red rimmed and glassy when she opened them. "I heard," she said. Her voice sounded dry.

Deacon and Cole glanced at each other.

"You hungry? Kid?" Deacon frowned a bit when she turned her head a little in his direction, as if she wanted to look at him, but kept her eyes down.

"A little."

"We can stop at a McDonalds before we check in. Okay? We'll go through the drive through. Do you know what you want?" Dustin looked back at her for a moment. "Salad, right? What about one of those sweet tea things? You want one of those too?"

Jenna nodded, and the truck drove on in silence. Street lights began popping up on the road, throwing shadows through the darkly tinted windows that bounced around the seats and across grim, tired faces. The truck cut through rock outcroppings in wide, curving turns, passing a few small, quaint little houses first, then a gas station and supermarket. Little stores sprouted up between houses, and beside a second gas station as they went in further was the McDonalds.

Dustin drove through and ordered what she wanted, paying without a word and hushing her when she tried to hand up her own cash, smiling at her when he handed the bag and drink back.

"Now..." Deacon cleared his throat as Dustin looked for a moderately comfortable looking hotel. "Now, start eating. You might feel better if you have something in your damn stomach. C'mon now," he nudged her with an elbow, brows furrowed.

"I'll eat in the hotel room, since we're almost there anyway," she mumbled, and Deacon frowned deeper and ran a hand through his hair, glaring out the window. He really, honestly, hated that little, soft tone in her voice. Like she was trying to be careful with everything she said.

He thought it was bullshit. She didn't need to be careful around them, God damn it.

The hotel they chose was called "Wealthy Days" and its logo sported a giant hundred dollar bill with a giant grin on its giant bill-face. They had an hour and a half before sunrise when they were all checked in and Dustin was handed the key card. Jenna was ushered in first, Deacon nudging her inside, muttering at her to start eating already before he took in the room itself.

Two twin beds and a couch that unfolded into a larger sized thin mattress. The bedding was a deep red color with a dark green swirl pattern, and the couch was rusty brown. The carpet was almost the same shade as the couch, and was frayed and worn thin in places. It wasn't by any means an attractive room, and it certainly didn't make anyone in it feel at all 'wealthy'.

Jenna sat down at the little round table smushed against the wall beside the cheap television stand and took her salad out of the bag, eating slowly while the vampires settled their own sleeping arrangements, Deacon for once agreeing to take the floor without argument. He only nodded and let out a dismissive snort before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving the other three to the rest of the decisions before sitting down at the little table as well, silent as he rested an elbow on the table and placed his chin in his hand, watching the others.

When her salad was done, she put the empty tray back into the bag and pulled the sweet tea closer. Cole was sitting on the fold-out couch that would be his bed for the night, shared with Luca, and Dustin was leaning against the foot of one of the twins, turning the small television on and flipping channels, ignoring Luca when the doctor told him to stay on a certain one or to go back to a show he'd liked and Dustin had passed by. Every once in a while, each of them would shoot her a glance, and she would cough or take a deep gulp of her sweet tea in response, keeping her eyes on the table as she felt, rather than saw, their stares.

She was a mess, and she knew it. Her eyes still felt hot, and the after-tears burning was still there as well. And it frightened her to think about, but she'd have to tell them something. A reason for it. Otherwise...she couldn't see them letting her go off by herself when they reached Maryland. Who would, after watching an eighteen year old break down and not give a reason for it? Whatever story or distraction she came up with, she didn't want them seeing her as fragile enough for them to shoot the idea down.

Perhaps she would have to tell them? The truth? Not some story. She was...terrible at lying.

With a deep breath that made Deacon tilt his head a bit to look at her, she looked up from the table at Dustin. "I'm..." she hesitated when the red haired vampire hit a button on the remote and shut the television down in a split second, looking from the screen to her. Guilt settled in her gut for a moment at the motion, like he'd been waiting for her to say something the entire time. "I mean...sorry about the...the crying thing back there."

Dustin's brows furrowed and he frowned, but Cole spoke up first from his place on the couch. "You don't have to apologize," he began, and started to say something else, but Dustin hushed him and looked back at Jenna, telling Cole to let her talk and not to interrupt.

She swallowed, glancing at each vampire in turn, their stares feeling like tangible, heavy weights pressing down at her. "You said I could talk to you," she said slowly, and kept her eyes on Dustin as she spoke to keep from losing her nerve.

The man nodded. "Do you want to just talk to me, or...?"

She shook her head. "But I mean..." Deep breath. She was terrible at lying, and she knew it. Everybody knew it. If she tried, it would make things worse, and much more difficult later when she would try and get away from them and...

Jenna closed her eyes. A month wasn't a lot of time, if you thought about it. And a month was all the time she knew with them, but yet, really, when she took a second to mull it over, she felt like it had been much longer than just a single month. She felt like she could honestly and truly trust them. She did, in fact, trust them. Completely. A hunter would not let four vampires help her on her little adventures otherwise, and these four had not only joined her team, but had saved her life. Twice.

"I believe in all of you," she mumbled softly. "We've been together a while. But you know next to nothing about me."

Was it an excuse to tell them the reasons, an excuse to make them trust her, or perhaps even an excuse to simply talk about the weight pressing down on her heart? Wasn't talking supposed to be some sort of magical cure-all end-all? Not just a temporary band-aid? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure about anything.

She was going to die soon. And these vampires...these men...her friends. Perhaps this would end up meaning so much more to everyone, other than her just giving them a filler-reason for her behavior.

In fact, thinking back to even considering giving them a quick little fib of an excuse almost made her cringe now.

"You don't have to," she heard Deacon almost whisper from close by. It surprised her, really, the amount of concern he let slip into his usual could-care-less tone. "If it hurts. It's okay."

"I haven't had a nightmare in a long time," she said after a moment of collecting herself, taking strength from Deacon's words instead of using them to mold some sort of excuse to back out of saying anything at all. "But...when I do...they're about my dad," she said.

From across the room, Cole lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, letting out an audible breath of air and closing his eyes tightly. He was already guessing the story.

"He...I mean..." She glanced at Deacon for a moment. "We're partners. Friends. It'd be...silly," she mumbled, and looked down at the table. "For me to keep things from you."

Nobody said anything.

"...You've asked me before," she began again. "Why I do this? Why I'm out here on my own and...hunting?" It took her another few seconds, and the girl actually let out a soft laugh before lifting her hand and wiping at the corner of her eyes hastily with her sleeve. "I'm sorry, this is hard," she explained.

"Don't," Deacon murmured in response to her apology.

Silence.

She almost lost her nerve again. Thinking about the words she wanted to say was nearly enough to rob her of her nerve again completely. But she swallowed, and with the terrible thought of her approaching death as her motivation, she began to speak.

"My dad...it had been just me and him for a while." she said. "He wasn't a hunter. He wasn't even anything, y'know. Not normal. He was a fireman," she smiled a bit at that, pride flashing bright in her expression for a moment.

"He always used to say I get my stubborn streak from him. He was so...he was brave. He'd run into burning buildings before with no problem. He was burned a few times. That...I mean, that happens I guess. Close calls. He didn't care about that though. If there was somebody in the house and there was a wall of fire and a collapsing building between him and the person, he'd run in anyway."

Deacon's hand clenched a bit and disappeared under the table slowly. His fingertips barely touched the girl's knee, and she wiped at her eyes again quickly in response.

"I still don't know why it chose our house. Or him. It just..." Deep breath. "A werewolf. Came in through his window and attacked him. I don't remember much of what happened. I heard him scream and ran in to see why. Mostly, I just remember...red." Her voice wavered, and her eyes drifted down to the floor, distant.

Cole dropped his hand and looked at her again, cracking his eyes open slowly. Dustin's hand curled around the remote tightly enough to make the plastic creak. Luca was absolutely still from his spot beside Cole, eyes wide like a small deer caught in a pair of ground-rumbling headlights. And Deacon's hand covered the girl's knee completely, a few fingers slipping beneath the holes in her worn jeans, touching skin.

Again, she was quiet for a long time.

Perhaps she didn't notice the fresh tears that welled up an threatened to spill over, but Deacon moved closer when he noticed for himself. He left his chair and knelt slowly beside her, replacing his hand lightly over her knee.

"Jenna." His voice was quiet. Dustin began to say something, but Deacon gave him a small glance, and the leader grew quiet, watching. "Jenna, hush," he said softly. His other hand lifted and touched at a long strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail in front of her ear. "It's alright. You don't...you don't have to say anything else. It's okay-"

She reached up and pulled his hand away from her face, though instead of pushing him away, she brought his hand down to her lap and held onto lightly it with her other hand as well. Her brown eyes shifted over to his hand as his fingers closed around her own gently, the rest of him motionless.

"He..." The girl took in a breath, and Deacon's other hand brushed over the fabric of her jeans on her knee slowly.

To her, this was perhaps the most important piece of herself she could give to somebody. Though truthfully, the four watching her now were nothing if not a group of people she felt she could lean all of her trust on anyway. Her insides clenched and twisted at the thought of lying to them later, but his voice brought her back down to the present as he spoke up, grounding her for a moment.

"Really," Deacon tried again. "You don't-"

"He didn't die," she breathed, and her eyes lifted to meet the vampire closest to her's in time to watch them widen a bit.

"He almost died." She swallowed a bit thickly, and the words came easier. "The werewolf was trying to kill him, but these two men appeared." She looked down again. "Out of nowhere. I don't know how they got into the house. I don't...I don't care how. But they fought the wolf off of dad and...shot it dead. Silver bullets. Always, silver bullets, through the heart. The werewolf never bit dad when it attacked him, so he didn't...he didn't turn. And the two men...hunters. They were hunters. They stayed with me while the ambulance came, and helped patch up my dad so he didn't just...bleed out completely."

Jenna lifted the hand that Deacon wasn't holding and touched her head, sleeve covering her fingers as it stretched over her hand. "...They found me again after my dad was put in the hospital. To check on me. Make sure I was...doing okay, I guess."

She looked up at Dustin then. "So I asked...I asked them what attacked him. I had to convince them that I would go insane otherwise, if I didn't know the truth. They didn't want to tell me." She let out a light, broken laugh. "They told me it was a werewolf. Told me that they were 'hunters', and that they killed things like them for a living, saving people like me and my..." She paused. "...S...so I...I just..I left. I wanted to help. I couldn't...just not do anything. Not when I could save somebody like my dad, or me, or anyone else."

"Your father let you go?" Luca asked, voice utterly soft, from across the room.

Jenna looked at him, eyes shining again. "No," she said. "No, he doesn't...even know. He hasn't woken up since the werewolf attacked him."

And there it was.

There it all was.

Broken family, broken heart, and all of it were going to be claimed soon enough by a creature similar enough to the one who harmed her father and shifted everything into the way it was to make her skin crawl and tears burn her eyes all over again.

"So I'm sorry," she said, and her voice cracked.

She didn't want to die.

"About earlier."

She felt like she had so much more to try and give.

"And for not telling you what was wrong."

She was afraid.

"I think I should have ex...explained earlier. Should have told you everything. I've thought about it before...I'm just..."

But her life was ending. She was going to walk into Death's arms to keep her friends and her father safe.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

And as long as the outcome was just that...she was truly okay with it.

"I just..." But she paused, leaning back in her chair a bit as Dustin pushed away from the foot of his bed and moved closer. With careful hands, he eased her up from her chair after Deacon moved aside, and she blinked into his chest when he simply pulled her into a strong, warm embrace.

"Don't apologize," he said. His voice was still as strong as it ever was, and reminded her of an iron beam, strength and support simply vibrating off of him. "Jenna, don't you apologize to us for anything. It's alright." He hesitated, lifting a hand and touching the hair at the back of her head, settling over the knot of her ponytail. Dustin ducked down then, voice dropping into a tone much quieter, as if he were trying to reserve the words just for her, despite the others being able to catch every sound anyway.

"I know how hard that must have been. None of us will take it for granted. We...I'm sure all of us understand...how much that all means to you. How much it means you felt you could... Of course we know how important it is, and we..." he took a moment, searching for the right word. With a grunt, he eased some space between them, looking down at her. Those tears had spilled over her eyes and were splotched against her cheeks where her face had brushed against his shirt. "...Your trust means more than you know."

Trust.

Trust trust trust.

Trust was important.

With a hitching breath she only tilted forward in his arms, and he let her lean into his chest completely, hiding her face as her second round of tears fought with the rest of her body, shivering weakly in the vampire's strong hold. Luca came closer and rested a hand over the top of her head at one point, and Cole touched her shoulder for a moment.

Deacon eased back, and slipped outside completely, leaving them in the quiet, dim hotel room.

.

The night sky was nearly pitch black, though he could spot a few bright points in the sky; little stars shining through the dim wash of light the town gave off around him.

For a moment, he closed his eyes.

He listened to the thrumming beat of blood and heartbeats of the people of the town, concentrating on it until the sound filled his ears, making him grit his teeth as he rooted himself to the small patch of pavement outside of the hotel, hidden in shadow across the parking lot on the edge of a small outcropping of trees. Life was a funny, almost ridiculously fragile thing, wasn't it? Like an eggshell. One crack at the very strong possibility of destroying the whole structure.

Tilting his head a bit, he opened his eyes once more, the beat of all the lives around him mixing with the dim, twinkling stars in his sights as his hands clenched at his sides.

A month wasn't a very long time. At all. He'd been alive fifty years, thirty years since turning, and he knew very well the passage of time and its frivolous habit of either going by far too quickly or far too slowly. Pieces would fit together at odd angles, plucking certain strings harder than they usually would, or barely touching the surface at all to his emotions, heart, and whatever might have been left of his soul.

Thinking of those tears on the kid's face...imagining her struggling with a life on her own, fatherless, and not just trying to put herself through high school or college, but actually fighting? As in fighting, fighting? Things that could actually hurt, maim, and kill her?

His jaw set, hearing the word 'red' just as she'd said it as she told them the answer to a questions all of them had asked at one point. A question he wished he'd never brought up. One that he wished none of them had asked her.

When it came to himself? Pain? Agony? He'd taken it in stride through his own life, physical and otherwise. Really, none of that really bothered him. After a while, it became more of an irritating buzz than anything else. Even before he turned, he was a 'reckless moron', as Luca had called him on more than one occasion.

He and his friends, the three that were all but his brothers, shared the pure hatred of people who caused that suffering, however. Perhaps it was very fitting; the four of them possessed the trait of those damned irritating 'super heroes' on television, with their inside-out underwear and all of that stupid...stupid shit. The drive to crush those who did nothing but hurt people were in all of them, really. Though as vampires, 'vegan' or not, doing anything about that drive was difficult. They had already guessed that vampires, for the most part, were not the 'friendly neighborhood' types. But what could they do? Well, they hid. In that little shack with the little television with fifteen channels and lumpy couch. They didn't. Do. Anything.

And then in came Jenna, with her ridiculously brave, strong little spirit. Showing them that, yes, they could actually do something about things like them that were in the wrong. There already were people out there doing the job, just like what they had all at one point thought of trying.

"Damn it all, Jenna..." Deacon dropped his head and lifted his hands, digging his fingers into his hair roughly for a moment, closing his eyes.

...And then in came the kid, with her stupid, brave, strong little spirit, who showed them how terrible things really were out there.

The idea. The thought. The images. The knowledge that it was all the truth.

It made him want to just...

It made him want to ignore everybody else on the planet, everybody else in pain and suffering and terrible trouble, just to make sure that the kid, that Jenna, was kept out of that circle. Fuck this 'hero' shit. Fuck it to hell. There was too much pain. Too much danger. Too much bloodshed and...

For a long, long, long time, he merely stood there, mind clicking and whirring, replaying her story, replaying the first night they'd met her. The nights at the hospital. The truck drives across the country. The drive-thrus and arguing over radio stations. The laughing, teasing, joking, light and distant voice of the damned girl that was wiggling her way into his damned head so deeply it was truly confusing him. How many years had he and his brothers tried to set their minds straight on the goddamned 'fighting evil' shit? And how quick was this kid switching his brain from 'eager-as-hell' soldier to someone who was all but ready to snatch her up and drag her off somewhere safe and free of shapeshifters and werewolves and-

"God damn it all," he bit out.

And she was on her own. Had been on her own for so damn long...

"You should come back inside," a voice spoke up beside him, Deacon's mind so far elsewhere that the man actually jumped, tearing his hands from his hair and looking in the voice's direction, blinking with wide, hazel eyes.

Luca stared back at him, his own eyes tired and heavy looking.

"...Not feeling it," Deacon responded, voice a bit rougher than he'd expected as he spoke to the curly-haired man, and he growled in response to hearing it, looking back up at the stars.

"Sunrise is coming in just a few minutes," Luca said softly, and Deacon looked at him again.

"Don't care," he grumbled back.

"...Come on. Deacon." The doctor touched his arm and the other vampire just sighed. "You've been out here nearly an hour. Don't make me worry about you." When Deacon opened his mouth to say something else, Luca shook his head and cut him off. "Please don't make her, of all people, worry about you either."

"I...sorry. Is she...? Jenna? Is she alright?"

"She's asleep," Luca mumbled. "And yes. Yes, she's okay. Dustin stayed with her, and she...ha," he smiled a bit and looked away, though there was no humor in the expression. "She fell asleep. Standing up while he held onto her."

"Cryin' that much wears you out," Deacon said, and Luca only shrugged. "...Can't believe she told us all that, honestly," he blurted, and Luca let out another soft, humorless laugh.

"She trusts us."

"Guess...damn, I guess so."

"Don't stay out here too much longer, alright?" Luca looked away. "I'd say you'd catch a cold, what with the sunlight, but that's bullshit, so I'll tell you that I don't feel like dealing with your tired ass in the morning," he sighed, and smirked when Deacon shoved at him.

"Shut the hell up," the black haired vampire bit out, but his eyes flashed anyway, albeit weakly. "I'll be in in a minute."

When Luca left him, he stood outside for a few seconds more, taking in a few slow, even breaths to calm his hazy mind, and only at that point did he realize that yes, he was in fact tired as well on top of everything else. He was utterly quiet, slipping back into the hotel room. The shades were already pulled tight, a heavy blanket tossed over them as well for good measure, effectively blacking the room out. Luca nodded at him once as he settled back on the couch beside Cole, crossing one arm beneath his head before closing his eyes to rest.

Deacon was quick and quiet with his own little nightly routine, brushing his teeth and washing up. His eyes fell on the kid when he stepped out of the bathroom to find his spot on the floor to sleep.

She was curled up, as she usually slept, like a ball under her covers, half of her face hidden under blankets so only the top of her head appeared over the comforter and on the pillow. Her eyes were still red, and he felt his hands clench into fists again at his sides for a moment.

But he shook his head, and dropped unceremoniously onto a small pile of blankets and a pillow that had been set up for him between the two beds, shifting only for a minute before he deemed himself comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

"You okay?"

Her voice was the second that night to startle him, and he blinked at her in the dark, meeting her open, tired eyes. Her breathing had been so perfectly even he had assumed she was asleep.

"I'm fine," he said a bit absently, watching her. "I'm...hn," he shook his head. "What about you?"

"..." She shifted a bit in her bed, and one of her arms snaked its way slowly out of the cocoon of blankets surrounding her. Carefully, she reached down over the edge of the bed, and touched her fingertips to his wrist lightly. He didn't think much of it when he turned his palm up and lifted his hand, catching her fingers in his own.

"Jenna?" he said, barely above a whisper.

The girl's eyes found his again, looking away from their hands.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm okay."

"...Good," he mumbled, and his thumb brushed against the back of her hand lightly. "Get...get some rest, kid. You look tired."

"Only a little," she said, and he could hear the tiny smile in her voice from where it was hidden under those blankets.

He managed a smirk of his own and gave her hand a gentle shake. "Night, kid."

"Good night," she said, and his smile vanished as soon as her eyes closed again. "Deacon."

When she fell asleep, and even after he himself had fallen under, he never let go of her hand.

.

..

...

I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others. And also perhaps a bit more boring than some xD I mean, I for one adore this sort of character development, terrible and sad as it may be. This one was...I just needed it to end there, haha. But don't worry. The next chapter? Let me just tell you that 'shit gets real', if I may.

Also, is that fluff I see there at the end? ...Okay not really but pf whatever.

Oh! And the day I finished this chapter (like I said, been working on it on and off), I got another piece of adorable art from the same artist as the first :3 Here, take a look!

http:/ /tinyurl. com/6buvoae

I'm getting a more realistic commission from her next. Expect a link to it within the next couple of updates.