Inside the Slaughterhouse, it was blackness. Jenny clenched Tom's fingers tight, like a rosary. They were in here, the creatures. She could taste their presence with every breath, like frost and ashes on her tongue. Step one, step two, step three through the dark, with Tom dragging her along impatiently. Jenny glimpsed a sanguine light up ahead and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Arghh!" A hairy, fanged face sprung up in front of Jenny's own. She shrieked, and Tom chuckled. The actor had startled Jenny, but what really chilled her blood was the feral set of eyes glimmering just above the wolf-man's head.

"C'mon Thorny, it's just a mask," Tom was saying as he hurried her forward. Jenny pinched her lips shut, dread spreading its chilled fingers through her stomach as they stepped onto a twisting path lit with flashing strobes.

Oh God, Jenny sucked in a breath, they're everywhere. In this dizzying crimson corridor, the actors hid round every corner, and each one was oblivious to the vapors that hung behind them like—well, like shadows. They converged on Jenny as her eyes jerked from face to face in dazzled horror. The girl felt like she was on a nightmare carousel that was spinning out of control. Blood, teeth, and monstrous grins surrounded Jenny until she couldn't tell the painted actors from the real demons.

"Tom," Jenny was gasping because the air felt thin, "I want to leave."

No answer, because Tom wasn't there. He'd left her. When Jenny finally realized this, she screamed. Her breath came hard and fast as the clap of her sandles on the hard-packed dirt. Jenny didn't know where she was going—she just wanted out. Darkness surrounded her once more, but Jenny scarcely noticed because her mind was on overdrive. Memories she'd tried to forget, tried to move passed, swirled up into her consciousness like foul fumes from a witch's cauldron.

Flash, frost and evil and the glitter of eyes from Grandpa Everson's closet.

Flash, the vortex swirling out, cajoling Jenny in hissing voices while those eyes came ever closer.

Flash, the scrabble and ache of Jenny's feet against jagged ice in her futile attempts to pull Grandpa back.

Flash, his nails slashing Jenny's skin to make her let go.

Flash, terror in every line of his face as he disappeared forever.

Jenny's running had slowed, for she was trembling all over, but her mind kept thumping out, out, I must get out, until the mantra became a meaningless static buzz. Light-headed and lost, Jenny sensed her knees start to give out. Before she could fall, however, the girl felt an arm wind around her waist—followed by another hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream.

Fight-or-flight had started to set in when Jenny's captor whispered in her ear, "Sh, Jen, it's me."

That water-over-rock voice was instantly recognizable; soothing and familiar. The blonde relaxed and allowed herself to be dragged to a hidden corner of the haunted house, away from he light and noise and chaos. Julian did not let go, which was good because Jenny didn't know if she could stand on her own. His arms felt nice around her waist and shoulders, supporting her like always.

"Something happened," Jenny gasped when she found the words, "I don't know. I just—"

"You're having a panic attack. PTSD," Julian said, his tone gentle but firm, "you have to breathe. Slowly."

Up until then, Jenny hadn't even realized she was hyperventilating. She heeded her friend's advice and took a few steady breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. As she focused on pumping air through her lungs, Jenny felt the nightmare flashes fade away, and the real world sharpen around her. "Why are you here?" The girl asked once she'd calmed down a bit.

Julian shrugged and held up a leering red devil mask up for Jenny's inspection. "I guess you could say I'm volunteering. You know I like getting a good shriek out of people."

"Yeah..." Jenny swayed on her feet as the aftermath of her episode hit. It suddenly felt very hot in this alcove... "Oh! The room's kinda spinning. I wanna get out of—" Now Jenny's legs did give way, and she fell against her best friend's chest "—here."

Jenny looked up now, her surprised emerald eyes meeting inscrutable sapphires. She could feel the sinewy muscle that had begun to build on Julian's chest and torso; she could feel him breathing, and she could feel his heartbeat.

"Breathe, Jenny," Julian murmured, but Jenny had forgotten how because his face was so close to her own. The impossible blue of his eyes filled her vision like the brightest summer sky. The air quivered with electricity, some tremendous possibility that was about to unfurl, and then—like a coil springing forward—it did.

OoO

Such a simple thing, a kiss. There surely is some magic to it, because how else could a simple touch, a fleeting brush of lips-against-lips mean so much? One kiss, and life can change irrevocably...

Or not.

Sometimes, a kiss is just a kiss.

OoO

Jenny was reeling because Julian's hand was in her hair, and he was kissing her. Kissing her. And she was kissing him back! It was slow, tentative, because neither of them were accustomed to this sort of thing, but it was never awkward, never clumsy. Their lips fit together like yin and yang, filling each others' empty space and becoming whole. Their mouths were dancing a soft, shy waltz. So curious their lips were, probing, let me know you, and then, with a flash of strobe light and a distant yelp, the spell was broken.

Jenny jerked away, gasping. What had they done?