Chapter 12:

I don't own anything

I don't generally update this fast, particularly at the minute, but it's the year anniversary of this fic (which is bad, given how short it is) and so I decided to update for you all!

And also, I won't be updating till the end of May at the earliest, because of exams, so if you want more of my writing, check out other stuff/oneshots I may write in the intervening time period!


Myrnin's POV:

She's going to do it. I can tell; there is something about Amelie today that is dangerous, feral to the point that I barely recognise her. There's almost a sense of lost hope, a sense that she has lost everything anyway so why can't she be reckless and selfish, just this once, that there's nothing left in life for her to love and therefore she can destroy those who have feelings for another living being, be them a vampire or human. And this is what makes her so utterly dangerous to me and to Claire, this lack of moral understanding – she is a vampire through and through now, akin to her Father, and that merely leaves us in an extremely dangerous predicament. She has no reason to lie to me, either: if she has said that she will renege upon her promise, she will. There are no hidden meanings in her words, nothing to suggest that perhaps she will allow Claire to live; she has said what she will do, what she wants, and there is little chance of me changing her mind.

We walk into her office and she sits down immediately, her position entirely the opposite of what it was merely days ago, when she called both myself and Claire in regarding the ball. It seems so long ago that this occurred, when it was in actual fact merely five days ago – and for a vampire to be saying that it feels so long ago, it most certainly is. Five days would normally pass in a blink of an eye for me, in human terms, yet it feels almost as though it was another century during which I still felt the potential between the pair of us.

The deathly silence in the room – not even broken by her drumming of her fingernails, as is what usually occurs – is haunting, reminding me of those years of majorly solitude in my laboratory, the silence not aiding my fight against the disease. My madness then was far greater than it is now, merely a flicker of insanity inherited from my human life through my Father.

"Well…" I try to break the silence with a cheery voice, yet it sounds false, even to my own ears. Ever the optimist Myrnin has been replaced by someone scrabbling for the chance to save his entire life from being wiped out in one blow, fighting to the last breath to ensure that there is something to live for left in two days time. Especially because it is my fault that we are being forced to do this – if I had simply told her that he was coming back, everything would be fine now. Amelie would be happy, I would be happy, Oliver would…well, Oliver is never happy, yet would most likely be more depressed than he is now, something that has near to no impacts on me.

Amelie's expression is indifferent as I lapse back into silence, the same angry hint to the features that are, as almost always, neutral. She has always had an ability to hide her true feelings, only those who have known her for centuries being able to decipher the hidden meaning beside the indifference.

Well, it's not that hard to guess, is what I mean. Usually when I am given the context, I am able to presume (on the whole, accurately) how she feels, the case normally being that I am correct.

"You know you have something you desire to say to me, Myrnin, or else why would you have returned to my office with me?" her gaze turns towards the blacked out windows, her eyes distant and unseeing, though her tone is as hard as nails and brittle as glass. It's the voice that I have only heard her use in relation to her Father, someone who holds a lower place in her heart than I believe could ever be described. He blackened her heart, twisted it into a near irreparable state that was only healed by Sam; Bishop is someone who I feel she would destroy without a second's hesitation if given the chance.

And to be spoken by Amelie to me gives me the impression that I am expendable in her life now, that if she is hurting, she won't give a damn to destroy me. After all, for the both of us, survival has been the key above friendship – and it seems that love ranks above it also.

"You're right," I breathe heavily as I speak, making full use of my lungs as I so rarely and unnecessarily do. "I wish to bargain with you, Amelie, for Claire's life."

Evidently intrigued, she sits forwards an infinitesimally small amount to show her interest in my point. "And what could you have to bargain with me for the life of a human?" she asks me, her voice slightly warmer, with a hint of a question in there. "After all, I own all in this town. If I desire something, I can simply take it…so why would I be interested in a bargain?"

I lean forwards slightly, closer to the woman who has always been my dearest friend, and don't try to attempt to hide my emotions; I want her to see me raw, angered, tired…everything that I have tried to hide from Claire. If Amelie is set upon this deadline, of which will be impossible to achieve, I fear, then we have no chance of victory; there is almost no possibility of even me finding Sam, let alone with Claire insistent on coming along with myself. Whilst it afforded me a chance to speak with her, a chance for her to see that there are feelings between us, this is not going to aid us in the long run, is it? If she is then taken from me by Amelie, what good will it do in knowing she had love for me, when she is no longer with me? There is no purpose, so why must I hide my emotions any further?

"You will be interested in a bargain," I inform her slowly, an attempt to keep my voice steady seeming as though it is failing. "Because, Amelie, otherwise, you shall loose me, forever. There will be no control of the town, for the town shall be allowed to disband; I have no desire to keep something running which holds no benefits for myself. Kill Claire, and you destroy Morganville. Are we clear?"

Her eyes narrow as she looks at me, evidently trying to appraise how truthful I am being and whether or not I will, indeed, go through with my threats if Claire happened to suddenly die – at whose hands, be it dependent on. "You are being sincere?" Amelie asks, sounding slightly doubtful as she struggles to come to a conclusion based on my facial expressions, all of which could be simply a distraction.

I nod, keeping my eyes focused on her every second. As I complete the movement, her face begins to change to an expression of near anger, as though she doesn't believe that I hold the power I do – she doesn't like being in the control of another, needing to do something for someone else just to keep what pitiful possessions she owns. After all, there is little doubt that she would never leave Morganville – for all her 'feelings' for Oliver, I doubt that they equate to the same as her love for Sam…and if we don't find him, then his body remains missing. She would never leave if he was not found, even if it became evident that there was not one single place in which he could be hiding, or be stashed.

"I am of the utmost sincerity when I say that I will follow through on my threat; you will not have me renege on my promise to destroy Morganville's defences, if it happened to be that you or your followers killed Claire for not succeeding to find Sam," I confirm, confident in the knowledge that nothing but the truth will ring through in my eyes' emotions.

Amelie presses her hands together, and I become acutely aware that she has plans to try and decimate my argument; she may not yet have the words, but I have always been able to see when she is thinking – and how she is thinking, in a sense – by the rapid nature of her eye movements as this occurs, the sense that she is distant from the situation we are currently in.

Finally, she settles on something, a question I am sure will have been well designed in order to hurt me, though I am sure that I shall be able to handle it. There are, after all, a limited number of questions that are plausible in this situation, and fewer still that will actually impact on me.

Yet she surprises me. "And what about Claire?" she asks, deigning to continue straight on into the rest of the question before I can ask her to clarify. "You desire her to survive, and I shall, however ungraciously, acquiesce to your request. However, she does not desire to be with you! Has this not been made clear, by the way that she continually spurs your advances, the way that there has never been so much as word contrary to the idea that she adores Shane?"

I should have known that she would take this angle, that she would choose to take the path of the apparent lack of reciprocated love between Claire and myself; it would, after all, be the argument I would make for herself, if she happened to be in this situation. However, it does not make it hurt any less, that my closest friend – for vampires have long realised that there is no purpose in forming multiple friendships, due to the changing nature of many allegiances – would choose to hurt me in such a brutal manner, just to attempt to get 'revenge' on my annihilation of her threats to my dearly beloved.

"This has no relevance to what we are discussing, Amelie," I manage to reply in the coolest voice I am able to muster, allowing no emotion but pure anger to pass through onto my face. I catch sight of my appearance in the mirror behind her, and see nothing but a blazing mess of anger, shining dark holes for eyes amidst a great quantity of brown hair that seems to be standing on end: pure anger looks like this on myself, for I recognise this from previous trying times. "Naturally, I shall answer you. Humans are able to dilly-dally in love, to take their time with it, for they feel that they must have the correct life experiences in order to be able to judge whether or not their partner is their lifelong soul mate. In our case, it is more of an eternity, rather than merely a human life. Yet this does not mean that the wisdom we own is able to be passed through to her; she has seen me in my darkest of days, and yet she has not yet run away.

"She continues to stand beside me, to work with me, to accompany on missions that I have said that I did not want her to go on – because I love her. There have been signs of reciprocation, yet I would hardly imagine you able to recognise them given it took you decades to recognise that your love was wasted, for you feared unnecessarily. No matter if Claire never realises she loves me – though I am most confident that we shall unite together, in the not so distant future – I would never wish her dead, never wish for her to leave this world, no matter how much it may pain me to see her happy with another whilst I am present. You evidently misunderstand the meaning of love, Amelie, though this is not something I particularly desire to spend the rest of the day debating with you, for you will, naturally, attempt to use your power to overcome my arguments." I realise, by the end, that I have gotten a tad personal, as well as into dangerous waters, what with her opinion on my discussing of her love life, yet the anger within me that she dares to assume that I would never allow Claire to live and yet be with another – or, indeed, for Claire to love me – is so strong that I cannot help but throw this attack at her.

For a long while, Amelie doesn't utter a word, her face betraying the shock she evidently feels as to my response to her attack. Then, slowly but surely, she begins to return to a state of normality, her lips pursing slightly in what I can only presume is anger for my bringing up of facts pertinent to her when she had tried to dictate the conversation.

"Very well," she sighs, finally relenting as she evidently concludes that she cannot win. There is no way for her to have a valid reason for killing Claire – therefore, I have succeeded in my bartering mission, to ensure that Claire survives no matter how successful we are in finding Sam. However, her face turns sourer, and I get the distinct feeling that her next words will not be complimentary. "You have gained this through sheer luck, as well as the fact that I could not actively hurt you; this is for our friendship, and please bear in mind that you will never be given something like this again. Never request something on such grand a scale as this, for only my affection for you is allowing me to decide that your request shall be granted. Do you understand?"

She is lying; I know I shall always be able to get what I want from her, especially now I know exactly how to threaten her, yet I need not alert her to this fact. False humility is something I perfected many centuries ago, most likely for the benefit of this woman for I have forgotten, and it is sometimes better to play as though I am a scared citizen of Morganville, rather than someone who has been with her through everything. Pretending to be accepting of the words she has just said, yet I did not particularly pay attention to, is much easier than having to argue further – and there is always a chance that she would grow bored and renege on her promise in a fit of pure anger.

"Fine, we are in agreement, then," I lean backwards in my chair, unconcerned about showing my feelings any longer, because I have gotten what I wanted. We have no need to rush to find Sam – though I guarantee that I will find him, so long as it keeps things as they are with Claire's existence in the world – as I feel the three day deadline has been lifted.

"That is indeed the present scenario, yes," Amelie is cool as she responds, her eyes focusing on the desk in front of her, rather than on me. "You may leave now, Myrnin; I have no further desire to hear you either desire Claire further, or insult my current feelings in regards to our common…ally. After all, you must still find Sam, you understand?"

I agree: I do not want to hear any further about Oliver, and, God forbid, her feelings for him, therefore I may as well leave and tell Claire about the way she doesn't have to fret…not that she knew, naturally, that she would die if we didn't find Sam. I'll try and reword it so that that is left out of the picture.

"Goodbye, Amelie, enjoy feeling emotions – something that is so rare for you, in any case," I reply in a relatively jovial manner. However, before she can retort, I dart through the office and back to the portal, heading back to the laboratory prior to the attack of her acerbic tongue.

The lab seems almost too quiet, as though it shouldn't be…where…why do I not hear breathing? Unless, in the short period of time I have been out of the office, someone has been in and either killed or abducted Claire, there ought to be the sounds of her respiring, oxygen entering her body and cells. Yet there is nothing. No sounds issue anywhere from the entire underground space, and the only breathing within a three hundred yard radius is that of Granma Day – someone who scares even me, I regretfully confess – and her breathing is so pronounced, it could never be confused with Claire.

She is not here.

She has left.

My head spinning, I begin to run around the laboratory, trying to find tail ends of her scent in the hope that the newest trail will inform me of where she has headed – if she has taken the portal, gone for a walk…anything. It is dangerous out there, especially for a girl who has slept so little, and I worry that she will…she will not understand what to do. Oh, the possibilities! There are so many heinous things that could occur, especially if…

I race across the room, my eyes wild and searching as I try to locate the list of places where Sam could be! It isn't here; none of the equipment I gathered for her to use, for I have no need for it, is here either…she has taken everything.

For the first time, I wonder if she had not been asleep when Amelie arrived earlier, whether she had heard the repeated threat against her life and acted rashly in order to try and find Sam before her time ran out. Not, of course, that it would, given what I have secured…yet she is not aware of this.

It is evident where she has gone. She has gone looking for Sam. Unless she has been abducted by the man himself, something I doubt because I cannot smell him here, she has gone off on her own to find him. I would merely go after her, would go and find her as quickly as possible…but I can't.

As well as needing to feed, there is the matter of the fact that there is up to forty locations on that sheet of paper – and, knowing Claire, she shall not have gone about the list in a logical order, starting either at the top, or the closest one to her base. She will be running all over town, something which ought to make it easier to find her (one could merely intercept her on her travels, then, and have her see that it was a fool's errand) but it won't. Because, you see, this is Claire, and if she doesn't want to be found, she usually manages to evade capture. I, a vampire who doesn't have enough blood in his system anyway, shall most certainly be no use finding her.

And so, mere minutes after leaving her office, I find myself on the way back through the portal and into Amelie's office, haste due to worry causing me to not even wait for permission.

Naturally, Amelie's eyebrows raise as she spies me entering her office, the traces of anger residing on her face from my previous comment. "Well? Unless you have returned to insult your oldest friend further, Myrnin, I see no need for you to be here."

"Claire is missing. I think she has gone on her own to find Sam," I stress the urgency of the matter as far as possible, daring not to look into the mirror to discover what the physical appearance of my worry is. "You may not believe this to be a concern, yet if she does find him, how will I get there before he…before he kills her?" too late, I realise that I have revealed that Sam is alive, that he is moving around and more than capable of snapping the delicate neck of mon cheri, before draining her of the source of life that makes her so incandescent.

Amelie splutters, something which is probably one of the most unladylike things I have ever seen her do, and this is evidently her reaction to Sam being alive. However, she manages to regain control far enough to press a button on her desk.

"I…Sam is alive?" she gasps, and I can tell that she is as frantic as I am; evidently, her intrigue has been sparked further by the knowledge that her lover is alive, something I worry about explaining to her – yet it can wait till later. Knowing he is alive can only be something positive to Amelie; I may not have the same fortune, if Claire does happen to come across Sam, for he will not control himself enough to recognise Claire before killing her.

"Yes, but that is a story for another day, once we have found Claire, and, naturally, hopefully Sam in the near future also," I stumble over my words in my desperation for Amelie to understand just how grievous it could become if she doesn't help me rescue Claire now.

"I shall send every guard possible to search for her, Myrnin; you both have use to me, if this is the only reason for my actions, and I am not about to allow my Samuel to kill Claire," Amelie sounds fierce as she confirms everything I want to know. She plans to fight for Claire…for me. "Though, mark my words, Myrnin, you will be expected to explain what has occurred in regards to my Samuel when all is well, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, perfectly," I mutter, not daring to look at her, for I know that I was in the wrong about Sam. "Yet can we please move forwards in the search for Claire? Then, I swear, I'll tell you everything."

Her mouth moves into the slightest of smiles, and she nods before standing up. "Then we must hasten towards our mission's goal, Myrnin. After all, only then will we get the answers to the questions our hearts desire to ask, shall we not?"

It is in this moment that I realise, more than ever before, Amelie is the woman you desire in a crisis. Especially when it involves a mad alchemist – who admits his state of mind isn't exactly sane – who is on the search for his human assistant of whom he loves, from the town's Founder's lover, who may or may not be crazy.

Thank the heavens.


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Vicky xx