Chapter 17 – A Glimpse of the Future

Shane's POV

"Well, that's an inconvenience," was the first thing I heard after Amelie made her statement; a statement that suggested that the love of my life was pregnant with my child. I hadn't really considered having a child all that much, though I know Claire had; thinking up names had been her main priority. It was funny, because I felt totally calm about the fact that Amelie had just confessed that Claire was pregnant. I don't think that the information had sunk in yet.

The voice was Sam – but that was no surprise – and he sounded completely serious. "What?" he asked, becoming defensive when everyone in the room stared at him. "I can't turn her into a vampire when she's got a bun in the oven, now, can I?"

"It is not an inconvenience; it is simply a miracle of the world. If I were you, I would deal with it," Amelie said.

"And if I were you, I would make sure that what you are telling me is fact. What I do not want is for you to cheat me, and then for me to find out and have to kill you all – even dear Claire," he sounded sincere, but his eyes were filled with pure evil.

I hadn't thought about that, the possibility that Amelie was lying so that we would all get out of here alive, the possibility that Claire and Amelie had made a secret plan in the case of an emergency. But I didn't want to think that Claire would do something like that, and I couldn't ask her if she had. While she had been awake just after she collapsed, she was now unconscious – and the amount of times that I had said and thought that over the past week was beginning to terrify me.

How many times can someone fall unconscious before it makes an impact on how their body works?

"I am not lying, Sam," Amelie replied, much more politely than I would have, "The girl is pregnant. And now she is unconscious, which is in no way a good sign." She didn't look at Sam as she spoke; she kept her eyes trained on Claire's face. I envied her for the fact that she could look at Claire for the length of time that she was without it having a terrible impact, tears just sprung to my eyes when I saw the paleness of Claire's skin, how frail she looked.

"Well, I cannot gain a bad reputation. I cannot have people knowing me as the old vampire who slaughters unborn children." He let out a dramatic sigh. "I suppose you will all be staying here then."

I laughed, and then realised that he was being absolutely serious. "Not a chance. How long have we been here now? Four days? We're starving. Claire's pregnant, she's unconscious, and she is starving. Yeah, sure, you might not be known as the vampire who slaughters unborn children, but you sure as hell would be known as the vampire who starves soon-to-be mothers and their unborn children if you don't let us go right now – I would make sure of it." I stared at my opponent, the challenge that swam in my eyes mirrored in his.

"You do not tell me what to do and what not to do. You are only a child." And he stopped, laughing to himself in what seemed like a very idiotic way. "Your dear Claire says that she is not a child, and I do believe her. But you, you are still a teenager, and I judge that by the immaturity that I see in your obnoxious personality. You cannot be a father when you yourself are still a child. Honestly, I would be doing you a favour."

"Don't!" I bellowed. "Don't. You. Dare. Yeah, you're right. I'm not the most mature person in the world, and in truth, I'm only the person that I am today because of Claire. Claire, the one you want to turn into a vampire even when she's pregnant with my child. And although you think that I am still a child myself, that I'm not mature enough to be a good dad – you are wrong. For every parent, and I speak from experience, being a father is a learning experience that no one can prepare themselves for until it's actually a part of their life. And I swear to God, if Claire has my child then I will stand by them from day one; both Claire and the baby. So you, Mr. ButtHeadBasket, can go to hell, and you can take your other vampire friends with you."

By saying all of this, not only was I reassuring my audience, I was reassuring myself. I had lacked confidence before, seeing my wife lying passed out on the floor had pulled strings that lay deep under the surface. Using the confidence that I had just gained, I turned toward Claire and looked at the beautiful way her hair fell across her face, the way she seemed to smile even when she was asleep – because that was all she was, asleep. Soon she would be awake and life would go back to normal – well, as normal is could get – because when Claire was by my side, everything was okay.

And then I realised what I was doing wrong. I moved over to the space that Amelie sat and she immediately answered my unspoken question, shifting along slightly and allowing me to rest Claire's head in my lap.

I would stay with her until she woke up, because that was what she would have done if it had been me.

Claire's POV

I was standing in a dark room.

That was as much detail as I could give – as much knowledge as I had – of my current situation. There was nothing inside that I could describe, nothing in the room that I stood in that I could see.

The walls were black and when I turned around, I saw a door. It looked like the front door of the Glass House, the door that I had first walked through beaten and bruised. I had no idea where to go and it seemed to give me comfort thinking of home, so I shoved the door open and entered the hall.

It was exactly what the Glass House was like; the same walls that we had always said needed painted but could never be bothered actually painting. If I took a few steps forward, I could see into the pantry that was on my right, and if I looked to the left, the small cabinet where I had first seen the letter that Amelie had sent offering to be my patron stood in exactly the same place.

The sofa in the living room looked just as it had when Shane had first kissed me there, and the armchair at the right – Michael's chair – looked just as it had when I had first listened to Michael play his guitar, minutes before he had turned into a ghost and died once again.

The table sat directly in front of the sofa and the TV was in front of that. The familiar sight of Shane's playstation was a warming sensation.

"I'm home!" Eve's voice called through the hall, followed by the sound of the door being slammed shut.

At the loud bang, a cry began to echo down the stairs.

"I am soooooooooo sorry! I didn't mean to... I didn't think," Eve told me after she ran through to where I stood.

"It's okay," I heard myself say, although it definitely wasn't me saying it. "She would have woken up soon anyway."

And then "I" turned and walked up the stairs and into my room, although this room had changed. It was no longer the pristine white that I had fallen in love with when I first came here, it was yellow. The bed was the same, but instead of having one small wardrobe, there was a newly bought big wardrobe and a small one at the other side of the room. And beside the small one was a cot. And inside the cot, which I discovered when I strode over to it, was a baby girl; the most beautiful baby girl that I had ever seen. She was crying, which had been what I had heard when Eve slammed the door shut, and she was trying to find her bottle somewhere in the cot.

But her eyes had been closed, and when she opened them, I saw Shane. I saw his beautiful brown eyes and perfectly shaped face, and I saw my auburn hair and bright red cheeks.

"Hello," my voice murmured, and when the child heard it she stopped crying and looked up. Right up into my eyes.

"Mummy?" she asked, and I felt myself break into a brilliant grin.

"Shane!" I shouted, and I could hear the bang of his feet on the floor boards in the hall. "Shane!"

"What? What's wrong?" he called in response as he ran through.

"Nothing's wrong," I told him as he came into the room and walked toward us. "Everything's just perfect."

When he looked down into the cot, the baby – our baby – said, "Daddy!" And then she giggled.

I bent forward and lifted her out of the cot, and while I was doing so, Shane said, "She definitely has your brains."

"Hi, Lissa," we both said, and wrapped her in a warm hug; a hug that was filled with love and tears.

And then I finally realised, I was dreaming.

I was dreaming of the future.