Among the Deepening Shades: Chapter Five

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Five

“Sh!” hissed George.

Annie and Mitchell looked at each other guiltily. Annie couldn’t help but giggle at the look on George’s face.

“Stop acting like a teenager sneaking out of the house,” said Mitchell.

“I am not,” said George, drawing himself up. “I am simply attempting to be a considerate boyfriend.”

“She’s all the way upstairs,” Annie said.

“She’s sick, not deaf,” said George primly.

“Come off it, you’re having fun,” Mitchell prodded, digging his elbow in George’s ribs causing him to jump.

“I can’t deny an element of enjoyment,” said George stiffly.

Mitchell and Annie burst out laughing.

“Your face,” said Annie, “it’s like you’re at a funeral.”

“We’re always at a funeral,” grumbled George.

“That’s a bit deep, George, careful, you might hurt yourself,” said Mitchell.

“I liked you both better when you were fighting,” said George, setting his empty mug on the coffee table, obviously taking great care to find the coaster.

“Refills?” asked Annie, jumping up.

“We’re fine, you don’t have to wait on us,” said Mitchell.

“But…that’s what I do,” said Annie. “It’s my routine.”

Mitchell sighed but he didn’t argue when Annie whisked all the mugs out to the kitchen and brought back fresh ones and a couple bottles of beer.

“A repast for kings,” said George grandly, nipping a fresh biscuit.

“Too bad Nina’s not feeling well,” said Annie.

“Yeah,” said George, “but I guess it’ll be like this for awhile.”

“Why?” asked Mitchell.

“Um, uh, well, cause she’s sick.”

“Why is she likely to be sick for awhile?” asked Mitchell. “I thought she just had the flu.”

“Flu can last a long time,” sputtered George. “Besides, I just meant that…us…sneaking around…not making her…mad, would, would last for…for awhile. Yeah.”

Mitchell looked at George for a long time and Annie wondered what was going on inside his head.

“Sometimes I wonder why a complete twit like you is somehow the master of six languages,” Mitchell said, instead of completing whatever thought was in his head.

“Oi, I am very eloquent,” said George.

“When you’re not trying to cover something up,” said Mitchell. “Then you start flapping about like a lemming coming off the wall.”

“I don’t know to what you’re referring,” said George awkwardly.

“Oh, come on, don’t,” said Annie. “We’re all together and if you two start snipping at each other, we’ll be here all day.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the two of you that do the ‘snipping,’ ” said Mitchell.

“Annie and I get along beautifully, thank you,” said George.

“Most of the time,” said Annie, laughing.

“Oh, yeah, the two of you are like Ghandi and Mother Theresa,” muttered Mitchell.

“You’re not exactly Mr. Feel Good,” said Annie, swatting his arm.

“One doesn’t have to be bubbling and happy all the time to display some levels of maturity,” he answered.

She simply rolled her eyes and tucked her arm beneath his. It was ridiculous how easy it was to fall back in to their old patterns as if nothing had happened. There was still an undercurrent of tension in the house, which was perhaps why George felt so guilty and was trying to be extra considerate to Nina.

Poor Nina, she’d come down with a nasty case of the flu the week before. Annie had been trying to think of what to do to make her feel better, but she hadn’t come up with much more than tea, which was a given, so there was that. But in the meantime Annie couldn’t but feel glad to just lie on the couch with her boys and not worry about vampire politics or good places to transform. The current topic of conversation was renovating the attic to be more werewolf friendly, but that involved a modicum of interior decorating which Annie was happy to discuss anytime.

“When Nina feels better we can start looking at options,” she said.

“Annie, it’s not going to be the guest bedroom,” said George. “We’re looking at soundproofing, reinforcing the walls and the door, getting a big cage, things like that.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t be nice,” she said, raising her feet over Mitchell’s legs to push at George’s feet.

“I don’t know why I bother,” said George.

Mitchell laughed.

“Don’t try.”

“I guess I shouldn’t.”

“But it’s no fun when you don’t try,” said Annie.

George rolled his eyes and idly glanced at his watch.

“Bollocks,” he said. “I’m gonna be late for work.”

“Someone’s got to pay the bills, George,” said Annie. “Get off your lazy ass and get to it.”

“I’m on a short shift,” said George, jumping up and grabbing his keys and mobile from the table. “Can you keep an eye on Nina, please?”

“Of course,” said Annie.

“Annie can make her a grand feast and I’ll check on her right now,” said Mitchell.

“Be careful…she’s a bit cranky,” said George. “And you’re not exactly her favorite person.”

“I’ll tread carefully,” said Mitchell.

George ran out the door and Annie eyed Mitchell carefully.

“What are you up to? I can watch out for her.”

“You’re already doing too much,” said Mitchell. “I’ve got to do something to pull my weight around here. Besides, you better make the tea cause if I do it, well, we’ve all had my tea.”

“Only once,” said Annie. “It was enough.”

She still felt a little uneasy about his eagerness to check on Nina but she wanted him to feel like she trusted him and that they all needed him. She didn’t like the bitterness in his voice.

“I’m just popping in to make sure she’s okay,” said Mitchell. “Not gonna subject myself to more Nina wrath than I have to, okay?”

“Go on then,” said Annie. “I’ll be up with her things in a minute.”

***

Nina gingerly turned on her side, trying to make sure she didn’t jostle her stomach too much. She was going to get bed sores if she kept on like this and as a nurse she’d seen more of those than she’d like. Irrationally she pictured different ways to make George pay for doing this to her. Nina wasn’t a stranger to the usual symptoms of pregnancy but she knew enough to know that everything was amplified in her case. It had to be the fault of the wolf.

It almost made Nina glad she was stuck in bed because if she wasn’t she would be tearing pieces out of everyone she met. It scared her how angry she was all of the time. Was it simply a symptom of being pregnant? Did it mean her wolf was taking over her ability to think straight? Was it an evil influence over her hormones by some monster baby in her belly? She couldn’t be sure. She had been too busy heaving day and night to get much thinking done. She was terrified that she’d made the wrong decision and not just for the future.

After all, her main question once she’d firmly fixed in her mind to have her baby, was what would happen the next time she transformed? That was only a week away. The baby had already survived one transformation but was that because it was so tiny that it hadn’t mattered that her body had completely transformed itself? It reassured Nina slightly, but now that she almost actually wanted this baby, the idea of anything happening to it was petrifying. George had wanted to ask Mitchell if he knew anything about werewolf pregnancies but Nina had blown up over the suggestion. She wasn’t even sure why, but some instinct inside her didn’t want Mitchell anywhere near her baby or even to know it existed.

A soft tapping sounded on her door and she grumbled an invite.

Mitchell stuck his head in and Nina narrowed her eyes.

“What do you want?” she asked sharply, in no mind to even pretend to be courteous.

“Just checking on you,” he said, closing his eyes and pausing as if listening.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not sick,” he said, opening his eyes.

“Look at me, of course I am.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Wha- How…that’s none of your business. If you tell George you know then I’ll tear your head off.”

“I believe you,” he said, coming in and shutting the door.

“Did I say you could sit down?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked, ignoring her jabs.

“What does it bloody look like?” she asked, trying to sit up and finding herself practically incapable of it, not without being sick anyway.

“Annie’s bringing you some tea,” Mitchell said.

“Great, now I can drown,” she said.

“Nina, it’s okay…to be scared.”

“You don’t get to do this,” she said. “You don’t get to be the concerned, know it all vampire who helps out with the supernatural problems we all have, okay? At least not with me. Piss off.”

“Like it or not I’m what you have, Nina,” he said, sounding slightly more angry and she was glad she’d gotten a reaction out of him.

“Then I’m basically screwed, aren’t I?”

Mitchell studied her for a moment and she resisted the urge to retch as she pictured leaping out of bed and clawing his eyes out.

“What are you scared of?”

“What do you think? Hello, I’m possibly carrying the spawn of hell in my uterus. Then there’s the fact that I’m way further along than I should be. Either that or this baby is going to be about ten pounds too big when I finally get to labor. Oh, and then there’s the problem where I’m going to transform in a week and who knows if the baby will even survive that, which will break George’s heart and, surprisingly, mine.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re always sorry. Is that the only phrase you know?” she asked.

“It’s what polite people say, Nina,” Mitchell said. “Now tell me why you’re so angry because those other fears are all too real but there’s something else going on here.”

“What the hell gives you the right to ask?”

“Maybe I don’t have any right,” he said, hunching his shoulders, “but I can help. Do it for George, do it for the baby, but there’s something eating inside of you, Nina. Maybe George doesn’t know, maybe he does, maybe he’s forgotten what it’s like your second year being the wolf, but either way, somehow you’re not talking to him. You can talk to Annie but she can’t help even though she’d die again trying. It’s darkness that’s your problem, Nina, and that’s my area.”

“I hate you and your twisted, poisoned logic,” Nina said, tears streaming out of her eyes.

Every word he said hit her in the gut like a bullet. Perhaps she was overly hormonal, perhaps the wolf was speaking for her, and perhaps nothing would ever make sense again.

“Hate away, but talk to me,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “I let you run once, but this time it’s different and we don’t have that option.”

“You never let me do anything,” she growled.

He leaned back.

“Fair enough.”

Nina swallowed her anger and tried to force herself to see beyond the red.

“Have you ever known a pregnant werewolf? Did…did the baby survive the transformation?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know for sure. I’ve never met a pregnant werewolf. I’ve heard tales, but it’s hard to know the truth cause they’re all twisted by vampire bias.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

He shot her a look and continued.

“Mostly what I’ve heard is that the baby didn’t survive the transformation though, I’m sorry.”

Nina let out a sob and clenched her fists.

“Leave me alone,” she said.

He got up but lingered by the door.

“Nina, I don’t get it. I thought you were on the pill.”

“It doesn’t work when you’re a werewolf,” she said automatically, still thinking about what he’d said.

“Wait, what?” he asked, turning around.

“Apparently when you have sex as a werewolf, it doesn’t work,” she said slowly as if speaking to a child.

“You had sex…as werewolves?”

“Yes, during our little forced stint together.”

“Hell,” he said, sitting down again, running his hands through his hair.

“What?”

“There’s another tale…a legend, a prophecy, whatever. About the child of two werewolves, but the only specific is that they had to be werewolves when they conceived the child.”

“You’d better not be saying what I think you’re saying.”

“I think you just became the Virgin Mary of werewolves,” said Mitchell.

“I hate you,” said Nina, her head falling back on the pillows.

“It’s just a legend; I don’t even know the words. Just that it was imperative werewolves never mate while they were wolves. Something about the offspring being…dangerous to us. The Old Ones were always talking about it, that’s why we kill lycos and humiliate them. Mostly.”

“Even better.”

“I think that you can rest easy about if the baby will survive,” Mitchell said weakly.

“Great,” she said. “No, now I’ll just worry about the legions of vampires that are gonna hunt us down.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” said Mitchell. “We’ll keep this very private until the baby’s born and then we can look at it again.”

“You’ve got that right,” she said.

“I hope that helps a little bit,” said Mitchell.

“Unfortunately, it does. Now I’m left feeling like I’m such a hypocrite,” Nina said, sighing.

“What?”

Nina didn’t know why she’d said that. All of her anger seemed to leave her, that beautiful righteous anger that left one utterly sure of what they wanted out of life. Now she was just afraid and in pain and tired. About how she’d felt when they moved to Wales apart from the nausea.

“It’s easier to be angry,” she said tiredly. “I was so angry when we left Bristol, determined to find Lucy and protect us and make up…for what I did.”

“I know the feeling,” she heard him mumble but didn’t comment on it.

“I’m a hypocrite because I wanted to kill her, I wanted you to kill her,” said Nina. “Because I see so clearly when it comes to George’s affection for you but not for my own hatred.”

“You don’t have to like me,” said Mitchell.

“But I do, I did. It’s not your personality I don’t like. Maybe it’s not even the fact that you’re a vampire. You’re the scapegoat for the world that I hate. You’re the mirror image of my rage that I’m afraid will take over this world. I wanted Lucy dead, chopped into little pieces. I never used to be angry like that. What if…I act on it?”

“You won’t,” he said. “You can’t fool yourself like I can. Acting out against me is more honest than hiding yourself inside the kill like I did.”

“I can’t forgive you,” she said. “If I do then I have to look at myself and forgive myself and I can’t do that. I won’t be human anymore if I let myself accept that this world is right.”

“I understand. But…you do have to live in it, Nina. There is no cure. George has to live in this world and your child will have to. If you can’t live with them in it, you guys won’t make it.”

“Keep your nose out of our business,” she snapped. “I know what I have to do.”

“And watch that temper of yours, you’re being angry for two now,” he said.

Nina almost wanted to laugh but there was still something hateful and bitter gnawing inside her so she didn’t. Yet there was a peace almost between her and Mitchell, some sort of bridge extended by his questions and her admissions. She felt like she could sleep now.

“Don’t tell George,” Nina said, when she felt safe enough, that she wouldn’t laugh.

“He should know, Nina,” said Mitchell.

“Don’t!” she snapped. “I get to tell him, I get to figure this out.”

“Okay,” he said, acquiescing.

Annie ratted on the door and came in bearing a tray.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get it perfect for you. How are you feeling, you poor thing?”

“Much better,” Nina said, looking at Mitchell, hoping that would somehow convey at least a little of the peace she felt.

“Cheers,” he said and exited.

Nina laid back and let Annie fuss over her. The worst was yet to come.

***

Mitchell slipped out of the house and took the shortcut to his new favorite smoking area. It was amazing how being cooped up and completely useless to everyone made him look forward to his smokes.

In deference to Nina, and really for his own peace of mind, he’d taken to frequenting the odd corners and hidden spaces of Barry. The best was underneath an overhang next to where the woods budged up close to the actual city.

He had a lot to think about, especially regarding Nina and George’s baby. He hoped they would make an announcement soon because keeping the news from Annie was making him uncomfortable. The whole situation was uncomfortable because he honestly didn’t know what was coming next, and he wished he’d paid more attention when Herrick had been rambling on about eradicating werewolves.

An itching sensation scratched at the back of his neck and he slowed a fraction to try and assess what it was. It felt like someone was watching him. The sensation went away after a minute or two and Mitchell zipped his coat up higher and went on his way, alert but casual.

He arrived at his destination and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag.

The feeling of being watched returned and he glanced over to his left. A man was standing by the other side of the overhang, lowering his cigarette at the same time as Mitchell. He was tall and big, with scraggly dark hair at his shoulders. He looked older, wearing a black leather jacket and fingerless gloves. Mitchell felt uneasy immediately, but nodded curtly and returned to his own smoke. The man stamped his out and hesitated for a minute before walking over to Mitchell.

"Funny, you know, somehow I thought you'd be taller, you know, close up like."

Mitchell raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Mitchell stared, wondering if the man was ever going to stop talking. “No, it's just that, um, well, um, it's just that I'm like you, you know."

His eyes flashed black and he stretched his mouth wide till Mitchell could see the man’s tonsils, let alone his fangs.

"Okay, all right, easy, easy,” said Mitchell, looking around quickly. “So you're a vampire."

"Yeah, I am a brother of the blood,” replied the man. “Name's Graham. Well, Graham's my mortal name, but when I was reborn to the night I took the name Obsidian…” Mitchell stared at him. He really didn’t have time for this. “…Graham's fine. Obsidian. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Okay, yeah, um, all right, Graham, um, I'm kinda busy right now so can I help you with anything?"

Graham shuffled his feet.

"I feel a little bit embarrassed now but, um, I am a little bit of a fan boy. I could say fang boy," he said, showing his teeth again.

Mitchell cringed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it."

"And I was a massive Neil Diamond fan. You know, Neil Diamond?” Mitchell didn’t say anything. “Doesn't matter, but that kind of gave me the idea so now I'm on a sort of pilgrimage, you know, like a star tour and I'm visiting all the legends in our little world so…naturally."

"You came to see me."

Mitchell didn’t know what was worse, that Graham thought Mitchell was worthy of being a vampire legend or that he’d tracked him to Barry.

"I mean, you're up there with the greats. I mean, what you did in Bristol was just…"

Mitchell stiffened slightly.

"Remind me again?"

"Oh, no, wait, you don't need to be modest. You got a whole chapter of vampires to renounce blood. Amazing. Are your boots-" Graham pointed downward.

"Excuse me?"

"I was just wondering about your boots."

Mitchell wondered if he was dreaming. This was getting ridiculous.

"Listen, Graham, I have stuff that I really need to do so…"

"Oh yeah, you know, of course, of course. Well, it has been such a privilege to meet you, Mitchell, and maybe, uh, I could catch you again sometime."

"…Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, maybe sometime."

Graham extended his hand and Mitchell went to shake it but the man started doing one of those stupid complicated handshakes.

"Brilliant,” said Graham anyway and walked off into the night.

Mitchell stared after him for a moment or two, his brain racing to catch up with what had just happened. What the hell was going on?

Hopefully it was nothing more than it seemed, a bizarre encounter with a strange individual, and it would end there. Mitchell still couldn’t shake the idea that when Graham talked about Bristol, he’d really been trying to say something else.

***

George sniffed the air as he got home. There was a sour kind of smell hanging over the entire house. He would put it up to Sasha’s presence lingering if he didn’t know how sick Nina was. He didn’t know anything about morning sickness really, but it seemed to him this was rather an extreme case and maybe more so because of her werewolf status. Nina was simply very sick. It was disgusting cleaning up after her and he couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed at how glad he’d been to go to work and deal with other people’s messes instead of his own.

He’d been having a quiet panic attack for the last week. Yes, he’d been glad to know he would be a father; yes, he loved Nina more than anything and couldn’t wait to start their lives together in a new way, but George had never been good at handling change.

Poor Nina was lying in bed and George wasn’t sure how long that was going to last, but he was worried about this was going to change everything. He couldn’t even speak to Mitchell and Annie about it because Nina wouldn’t let him. He resented that, resented it highly, and then felt angry at himself for being so selfish. Still, he kept planning out ways to ‘let it slip’ and ask for forgiveness later. This was supposed to be a happy time and instead he just felt anxious. Now that the initial joy was over, constant worry and questions had taken its place.

Would the baby survive the transformations? If they did would that mean they would be born a werewolf? Would they be able to control themselves at all? Would they be a complete wolf? Would George be able to handle that? Would Nina? What if the whole thing was a big mistake? A mistake that he couldn’t even talk about with his best friends.

He’d been noticing changes in Nina. Not just that she was bigger, and George couldn’t quite figure out how Annie hadn’t guessed yet because of that, but she was meaner. Nina was never exactly the most gracious of people, but there was an inherent kindness to her that George had always admired. Now she could barely stand to be civil. Was it because of the pregnancy itself or was the wolf somehow taking advantage of the pregnancy to gain more control?

George had never been able to figure out if he thought the wolf was completely separate from himself and simply took over once a month or if George was the wolf all the time and only let it out once a month. For a long time he’d been very attached to the former idea and could barely stand to talk about the possibility of being the wolf.

But ever since…ever since he’d killed Herrick it was like that door that Daisy had talked about was flung wide open. Not only was his sense of smell enhanced but other aspects of him too, like his rage and his values. The shock of what George had done to Nina by scratching her had seemed to snap him out of walking through that door fully, but ever since then he’d never been able to keep himself completely separate from the wolf. Putting it to sleep only seemed to twist the wolf more tightly into George’s daily life. Walking into Kemp’s facility had made the wolf snarl, or maybe it was just George who was angry, he couldn’t tell anymore. Lucy had told George that there was something inside of him that recognized her as the enemy but at that moment George hadn’t been able to distinguish any difference between that something and himself.

Losing Annie had softened that awareness of rage inside of him. He’d retreated back into himself, trying to hold on to anything that brought him comfort, clinging to Mitchell and Nina. Even when Mitchell had confessed his crimes, there was only a blank sort of horror, the general feeling of disgust at the fact of atrocities in this world.

It did go deeper than that, George knew it did, but it didn’t go as deep as it could have. Besides, there was still that nagging feeling that if Mitchell hadn’t been so angry inside the facility, George himself would have been holding Kemp by the throat. Certainly when Kemp had been holding Nina with a stake to her neck George had been almost blinded by anger. If Annie hadn’t intervened George wasn’t sure how long he would have been able to keep his common sense.

Was this what Mitchell dealt with every day? Anger and a desire for something stronger, more primal? How did he act so completely normal most of the time? Maybe…maybe the aberrations weren’t the occasional massacres and one night stands that ended in blood, maybe the real unusual thing about Mitchell was the fact that every day wasn’t like that. If that was the case, then George didn’t have any moral high ground.

Besides wasn’t there such a thing as righteous anger? George didn’t think he was the best judge anymore and that annoyed him. It annoyed him that he didn’t really even have time to figure it out. He’d spent the day at work; he would spend the night making sure Nina was okay. He’d worry some more about his unborn child. Any time not spent being responsible, he was determined to spend with his friends, he’d earned that.

George shut the door and headed upstairs. He walked into his and Nina’s room. Nina was asleep and he carefully kissed her cheek. He began to change, jumping when Annie rent-a-ghosted into the room.

“Annie!” he shrieked.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Annie, turning around.

“We have rules, you know,” he said.

Nina woke with a grunt.

“What the hell is going on?” she said, then turned white and held a hand to her mouth.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” said Annie. “I didn’t know you were here, George.”

“Rules!” he said incoherently. “Just stop flitting about like you own the place. This isn’t Bristol!”

“What’s going on?” demanded Nina.

George swallowed back his irritation. Annie looked rather stricken and Nina looked like she wanted to bite his head off.

“Just a misunderstanding,” he said wearily. “I’m sorry we woke you.”

“I’d only just gotten to sleep!” Nina grumbled. “You’re useless, both of you.”

She rolled over and ignored them.

Annie looked about ready to cry. George gently guided her out of the room and they sat down on the stairs.

“Sorry about that,” he said quietly. “She’s very irritable when she’s sick.”

“I’ve noticed,” Annie said quietly. “I just wanted to grab her things and clean up a bit.”

“It’s fine to help out, Annie, but…there are some boundaries we have in place, you know? You don’t need to do everything. We’re glad to have you back, that’s all you need to do. Be back.”

Annie nodded, and then slowly smiled, nearly bouncing with excitement.

“I can understand Nina’s irritation. Because…is there anything you’re not telling me about her?”

He wasn’t surprised and he reluctantly smiled.

“Nothing I can say,” said George. “I promised.”

“I get it,” Annie said, tapping her nose with her finger and leaning against him.

George put his arm around her shoulders and tried to imagine a world without quite so many problems. It was getting rather hard to do.