Heartlessly Humane

By wired2damoon

Chapter 9: Incidents And Insanity

A/N: Thanks again to all the reviewers! I shall reward you with some Mitchell/Annie sexy-steaminess in the very near future! *wink*~wired2damoon~ x

- Mitchell's POV -

Insanity.

It was bound to happen, after spendin' so long a time on the same, aged, yet completely novel, and diverse Earth.

Yeah, sure, the flowers still smell the same, the weather is still dismal at best, the variety of food is still both questioning and peculiar, the streets are still lined with ignorant, enlightened, peaceful, enraged, intellectual, obtuse, cathartic, detrimental, benign, callous, beautiful, repulsive, corpulent, emaciated, composed and downright mental human beings as it ever was, but, now…now they had a new member to join the insane club.

John Mitchell.

The resident aged, sarcastic, mocking, charismatic, and widely-misunderstood Irish vampire.

Yeah, I admit it, I deserve to be thrown into a padded room, my arms bound around myself in one of those crazy, backwards strait-jackets.

Why?

Well, for ever listenin' to a word that has ever come out of Annie Sawyer's mouth.

That's the hell why.

"No, abso-fuckin'-lutely not! Have you gone mental?" I hissed, lookin' down at her and saw her stare right back up at me, hands on her hips, lookin' entirely serious, not at all jokin' or bonkers either it would seem. The latter (according to me anyway) is questionable however…

"No, Mitchell, I've not gone mental, I'm deadly serious," she huffed, stickin' her chin out, settin' her jaw as she folded her arms across her chest.

I blew out a breath heavily and tilted my head up to look at the ceiling.

I don't think this was a time for a change of subject to the fact that I thought the ceiling could do wit' a fresh coat of paint, neither did I think she would welcome humour, so I also refrained from pointin' out the pun of Annie being 'deadly' serious…I think I might just get a slap in the face for that…one of which I may actually deserve…

"What you're askin' for Annie…it'll-it'll be risky, I mean, Jesus, it was only yesterday you were freakin' out about me goin' to the feckin' library but now? Now you want me to fuckin' stalk a bloke in the middle of the night while you and Violet ransack his apartment!? Now that's just not on!" I finished, lookin' back down at her.

She was sitting on the arm of the couch, her head still tilted up, her chocolate eyes glistenin'.

Jesus, I really don't think how much longer I can put up my 'determinedly tough and stubborn' act before that kicked-puppy-out-in-the-rain-on-Christmas-day look of hers really starts to kick in.

"But…but Mitchell, Violet won't be able to move on, unless she can talk to James! She's convinced that he's the reason why she's still here, that because of their unresolved issues, she won't be able to move on in peace. You-you promised that you'd help her…"

I scoffed, rollin' my eyes, "no Annie, I said that I'd help you help her…and I'll admit this isn't entirely what I meant."

I could see I'd hit a nerve as she now glared at me, her eyes morphin' into sharp slits, standin' up abruptly and stridin' briskly over, only to stop mere inches from me.

"Now you listen here," she spat, standin' on her tip-toes so that our noses were almost touchin', grindin' her teeth as she poked me in the chest roughly wit' her index finger, "I never pegged you as the kind of man who doesn't keep his promises…so…I'm asking you this, as a friend, to please, please help me, help her. I-I have to do this, Mitchell.

" I-I think when I turned down death and started to hear and see the dead…I think, I think it was an opportunity to help them, if they came to me. Well, now, Violet has come, looking for help, and I want to do everything in my power to see that she gets her door. I just-I need a little support…" she trailed off quietly, havin' somewhere in the middle of her rant, lost her fierceness and was back to her own, gentle self.

I gaped at her, as I realised that throughout her little speech her hands hand enclosed over my forearms, grippin' tightly as we continued our starin' match. This had become quite a frequent occurrence between us, continuously watchin' each other, waitin' for the other one to break the silence. It seemed, that it was her, this time, that would sever our trance.

She released my arms gently as she rocked back onto the soles of her feet, steppin' away from me. Never, had she ever, stood that close to me, with the exception of our random embraces of course. Suddenly, I was flooded wit' images of our short past together.

I'd realised, that in such a limited space of time that she'd come to be in almost every one of my memories. The night when Becca died and I just sat on the floor in the dark as she brought me cups of tea. The time when Tully scared her and she rushed to me, boltin' out of that alley, seekin' comfort, then again moments after when we'd both tried to kiss each other on the cheek and ended up a little off the mark…

And then, only a few days ago, when she sat on the kitchen floor, tears streamin' down her face as I cupped her cheek, just before what I had thought would be our last ever embrace in the hall before I went to meet Herrick.

As these images flashed across my mind, I felt…strange…a warm feeling was formin' in the pit of my stomach as I intently watched her walk back to her previous position, perched on the arm of the couch, undoubtedly makin' another memory that would be forever burned into my brain.

"Uh…" I didn't know how to respond. My mind had temporarily taken a leave of absence and all I was left with was this weird, solitary and almost-familiar sensation.

I frowned and shook my head, thinkin' for one, idiotic, splint-second that I'd identified the unknown feelin' but only shook my head again, this time a lot more vigorously.

No way, it can't be…that…I mean, a man only feels like that when he's wit' a woman he's intensely attracted to. This is Annie. One of the two closest friends I've ever had, I can't feel…this. I'm not feelin' anythin' I'm just, I dunno…huh…maybe I am goin' mad…

"Violet and I are going anyway, with or without you Mitchell…" she told me matter-of-factly, standin' up and beginnin' to walk out of the room.

Suddenly without any warnin' or acknowledgement from my brain, my body leapt forward, my arm already outstretched, my hand graspin' her shoulder - pullin' her back into me.

"Okay, yeah, alright," I mumbled leavin' my hand firmly on her shoulder as she turned to look up at me.

"I…I'd rather be there, ye know, in case ye got into any trouble or anytin'…" I trailed off, frownin' at my behaviour and droppin' my hand from her shoulder.

A soft smile spread across her face automatically at my words, and the soft glowin' feelin' in my stomach now began to trail up and down my body in tantilisin' waves.

This…whatever this was… was very weird.

Very fuckin' weird indeed.

But, being the master of maskin' my deepest, darkest, thoughts, I just smiled back slightly, before askin' quietly, "so…when are we off then?"

"Now." was her only response before she pulled away, turned and raced upstairs.

I sighed.

What the hell have I gotten myself into now?

- Annie's POV -

"And what exactly are we supposed to do about George? He might just go off the wall with his squeaky rants if we just up and leave without tellin' him where we're goin'…" Mitchell muttered as he threw on his leather jacket and Violet and I finalised our plans.

I grinned at him, "that's all taken care of. I left a note on the fridge, told him we'd all gone down the pub. Seen as he's with Nina, he more than likely won't be back before tomorrow anyway, so…we may just get home before him and he'll never have to know where we went unless we tell him."

Mitchell stared at me, his dark gaze burning into mine.

I could tell he wasn't liking this arrangement, but, it was, after all, for the greater good.

"Okay…so…the plan is, you and Violet are goin' to James' apartment whilst I keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't go back there until you are both safely out?" he asked, looking from me to Violet and back again.

"Yep, that's the plan," Violet chirped, nodded her head determinedly.

"And you two are still not goin' to tell me what it is exactly that you're lookin' for?"

We both shook our head in unison. He didn't look too impressed.

"And what exactly am I goin' to do if James is goin' to the funeral home tonight? I dunno if you two noticed but that might be a little dangerous…"

Silly Mitchell. He really didn't think that I spent the last two nights (since me and Violet hatched this plan) worried out of my mind at that very thought? He should know me better. I would never endanger him like that, no matter how much I wanted to help Violet, after all, his safety came first, I couldn't ever risk him getting staked again…

"Oh, don't worry about that Mitchell, we know James won't be anywhere near the funeral parlour tonight. James works in the gym down the road and Violet says that he stays late on a Thursday night, because it's his night to lock up…he should be there right up to eleven o' clock…" I trailed off to glance at the clock, "…and it's only after nine now. So we have plenty of time to get to his apartment, have a look around, get out and meet back up with you before he even leaves the place."

The plan was flawless.

It really was.

That is, of course, until Mitchell said this:

"And what happens if he sees me?"

I frowned, feeling both his eyes and Violet's on me. I hadn't really let myself think about that…

"Uh…well…he won't will he? I mean, you're the master at sleuthing and being sneaky-"

"-Jesus Annie, thanks for makin' me sound like some pervert who skulks after girls in the dark and wears a trench coat!"

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. This really wasn't going too well.

"You know what I mean! Vampires are brilliant at being discreet…silent…they can creep up on even the most observant, in broad daylight or in the pitch, black darkness and-"

"-Rip innocent people's throats out…" Violet suddenly interrupted me, her brow crinkled, looking quite pained.

I turned my full attention to her and saw Mitchell do the same.

"Violet are you-"

"-I'm fine Annie, can we just go!?" she asked, sounding a lot less than fine and a lot more like she was demanding and not asking that we leave this very second.

I looked to Mitchell then and saw that he too looked pained…sympathetic…guilty.

It was then that it occurred to me that even though Violet had been killed by vampires she still managed to be around Mitchell without, well, whimpering with fear, exploding with anger or bursting into tears…I must remember later to ask her how she really feels about the way she died. And why it is exactly that she doesn't seem to be uncomfortable to be around the very species that murdered her and turned her boyfriend into…well…them.

"Right! Off we go then!" I said loudly, breaking the steadily growing silence and stepping in between Violet and Mitchell and right out through the door.

I could pretend all I wanted that I was confident about this, that I was completely assured that Mitchell would be alright, that he was an experienced vampire when James was young and he had that advantage that would mean he's able to look after himself, but I don't think I was fooling anybody.

Especially myself.

Because, let's face it. I'm shitting a brick.

And I don't think anything anyone says or does is going to make me feel any better.

But, it's like I said…it's for the greater good.

I just can't remember what that is right now.

Mitchell pulled up outside James' apartment block and turned off the engine. Violet and I were sat in the back and he turned around in his seat to look at us.

"I'll meet you back here in half an hour. If you're not out at the gates, I'm comin' in to get ye so don't even try to argue, alright?" he said, making it sound more like an order. We both nodded silently before Violet reached out, opened her door, stepped out and slammed it shut behind her.

I sat there, motionless for a second, biting my lip as I saw Mitchell frown at me.

"Be careful," I whispered, "don't…don't get too close to him or anything, alright? Just…observe from a safe distance…" I trailed off, and before I could stop myself or even think about what I was going to do, I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

As soon as my lips connected with his skin, my eyes widened, for two reasons. One, I had no idea why I just spontaneously kissed one my best mates in the whole world and two, I could feel a slight tingling sensation, an almost…warmth flow through me as I pecked him softly, leaned back quickly and flashed him an embarrassed 'I-don't-know-why-I-just-did-that' smile.

As I brought my eyes up to meet his, however, I saw (with an odd jolt in my chest) that he was grinning at me.

"Don't worry Annie, I'll be fine, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself…" he said quietly, his voice sounding a little huskier than it's usual charming, Irish drawl.

I nodded, feeling more like myself, the weird, bold, crazy Annie who spontaneously kisses people for no good reason vanishing from my system.

"See ya in a bit then," I murmured, reaching out, opening the door, stepping out and slamming it behind me.

I saw Violet standing beside the gates with her back to me, her head angled so that she could see the very top of the building.

I glanced back as Mitchell turned back on the engine of the car. I waved and he nodded at me before pulling out and driving off down the road. I waited until the car was out of my line of vision before traipsing over to Violet.

"…You ready?" I asked, giving her shoulder a little nudge.

She nodded, taking a deep, unnecessary breath before walking straight through the gates and up the steps without a backwards glance.

I let her lead and waited a few seconds before following.

This should be…for lack of a better word…interesting.

- George's POV -

When I was a little boy, I used to live beside an elderly couple called the Ronsons. They had this dog, Rex, that I was absolutely terrified of. He was big, boisterous ugly thing and the Ronsons kept him purely for security purposes…because you certainly couldn't have him around for anything else.

He used to destroy everything that got in it's path. A stray football or frisbee, any clothes that would fall off Mrs Ronson's washing line, a rat or mouse…

But the one thing that bothered me most about Rex, was not the fact that he had a habit for chewing on anything that came within a ten feet radius of him, but rather of the way he was treated by his so-called 'loving' owners.

Now, it was a known fact that the Ronsons were not the type of elderly couple that you'd go have a nice cup of tea with on a Sunday or talk about random bits of news as you put the rubbish out…no, these weren't your ordinary old couple at all.

In short, they were bastards. The two of them. And normally, I wouldn't feel comfortable at using such language when describing my elders (it's just plain rude) but I cannot even try and contain myself as I think about them.

They were just the sort of people who deliberately got on everybody's nerves. They had to know all the gossip about the whole street, they were always on committees like 'Neighbourhood Watch' and 'Tidy Towns' and even though the may not always be the ones running the show - they still always had to have their say…

But, it wasn't just their bad attitudes that got on mine and everyone else's nerves.

Oh no.

It was how they treated that poor dog.

As terrified and weary as I was of it, I couldn't help but feel terribly sympathetic towards him as I saw Mr Ronson tighten his choke-chain lead around it's already swollen neck, or when he was left out in the stormy weather in that little crappy dog-house of his…

It was just wrong.

So, one day, my nine year old self marched up to my mother, handed her a phone number and told her exactly what I thought. That day she called animal services on dear Mr and Mrs Ronson.

The Animal Welfare Officers were out the very next day and served the old fogies with a fine of two-thousand pounds (which was a heafy amount of money, especially in them days), took Rex off them immediately, and sent him to a new, loving home.

The poor thing wasn't vicious at all it turns out, just had serious problems with it's teeth and had to gnaw on something…

The image of the dog finally being released from it's tight choke-chain and rushed into the large, white van, stayed with me for a very long time…and was what came flooding back to me as I closed my eyes and put my head back on the top of Nina's sofa.

"George…please…say something…tell me-tell me what you're thinking…" she whispered, sounding utterly terrified as I had not said anything to her since she'd last spoken nearly ten minutes ago.

I sighed, deeply.

"I feel like Rex…" I muttered, my eyes still tightly shut.

I didn't have to look at her to sense her confusion.

And so, I began to tell her the story, my eyes still tightly shut.

I'd never noticed until now, how much the canine and I have in common. When we were young, a puppy and a boy we were full of life and had people all around us that cared about us. When we were getting a bit older, not young but not old enough to be all that wise and experienced, we came across hard-ship and were mistreated. Then, in our adult life, there was a time where everything was extremely bad and we thought we'd never be happy again.

Until the day that Rex saw that big, white van come to take him to somewhere new and nice and back to people who would love him.

And until I, was somewhere new and nice and met Mitchell, Annie and Nina.

I wanted that feeling to last forever. That feeling of being the rescued dog (excuse the pun) going on an adventure into the unknown but yet being excited, no longer afraid. I wanted that to continue.

But, things get in the way, don't they, when you're human?

Sometimes, I think it would pay off to have a life like Rex the dog's (even though they say a dog's life is miserable)…but me? I think that once he got away from those horrid people, his life wasn't so bad…or at least couldn't of been worse than before…

And that's all I would ever ask for. A life no better or worse than before…but, sadly, I don't have the life of Rex the dog, or a human…not really.

Not anymore.

That went out the window when I got myself scratched.

And now? Nina's chance of having Rex's chance at life is gone too.

Forever.

Because of me.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinked back the tears and turned to face the beautiful woman beside me.

"Nina…" I whispered, my voice no stronger than a kitten's purr, "I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry."

And then, I broke. Shattered into a million, minuscule pieces. Right in front of her very eyes.

Just when I'd finally come to terms with my non-human life, this comes along.

I suppose I was wrong and Rex was just one of the lucky ones.

And I was just the one that got stuck with the true meaning of having "a dog's life…"

A/N: Well there you go! Hope you liked it! More George/Nina stuff later on!

TO COME:

1. Trouble with Violet and Annie in the apartment

2. A steamy yet, quite awkward scene between Annie and Mitchell *COUGH* THAT'S WHAT I WAS REFERRING TO ON MY ABOVE NOTE! *COUGH*

3. An interesting conversation between two unlikely people

Thanks again for all my lovely reviews! I send you all warm Mitchell-smiles! =] ~wired2damoon~ x