What You Deserve

Staring quietly into the darkness, I could see Jamia sitting on the bed in the room. The bodies were no longer on the floor, and Frank was no place in sight. She smiled faintly at me, and I swore I could see some form of sadness in her eyes. "Were you truly terrified?" her voice chimed.

I couldn't help but give her a vacant stare. Trying to read her expression, I assumed what she meant, "terrified? Not completely..." I mumbled, looking around. Everything was dark. Usually, my dreams were lighter, a little faded, as if looking at the old videos in the basement.

"So you accept him for what he is?" she rose her eyebrows in curiosity, shifting on the bed slightly. It was almost unnoticeable.

My eyes were still searching for more light, but I nodded a little. I was slowly getting used to the fact that I was stuck with vampires. Sure, it was difficult, and I couldn't understand their strengths, or emotions half of the time, but I was getting used to it all. Then I remembered Frank sitting propped up on the floor, injured. "Is Frank alright?" I questioned, not really certain when I had fallen asleep.

All she did was nod, and continue. "Those people are not the ones you are to worry most about. Fear what you've come to accept and love. Their kind isn't the same as they are. Be afraid of the ones who hold darker eyes than they do," Jamia murmured, as the room began filling with smoke. Slowly, it seemed that everything was burning, and Jamia was in the flames with it. The dream blew away like ashes, and I felt myself shifting uncomfortably as I came back to reality.

Moving. We were moving. But I wasn't walking, obviously I knew that. Why I was moving, I didn't know. It didn't feel like the steps of Frank, or any other person. And I could hear faint music, along with humming of something not human. Or vampire, unless they sounded like some sort of machine trying to function. That would be rather strange.

I felt something run through my hair, brushing softly and quickly through every minute or so. Something also sounded like mumbling, the tone of their voice seeming to flow with the faint music. I tried to roll over a little, finding my face and body pressed against a cool figure. Feeling what seemed to be like being flicked in the neck, I groaned slightly, hiding my face into the chest of the person.

"Is she going to be okay?" the man's chest vibrated slightly with his words, which I recognized as Frank's. The mumbling stopped after he spoke, so I knew it wasn't Frank who was singing with the music.

"Yeah," Gerard said after a small pause of the mumbling. "You didn't kill her, and she's not... that... yet," I heard the final word as if he were whispering it, and Frank's chest heaved with a sigh. "Don't worry, there's barely even a mark. Nobody will even notice it... She's moving, isn't she? Must mean that she's not too bad. I think that Ray and you felt more pain today than she did."

"I'm glad she passed out before it would start to sting and burn," the chest vibrated again with Frank's voice.

Finally seeming to wake up enough, I pulled back slightly, and cracked open my eyes, seeing Frank, propping himself up by his elbow, laying on a bunk bed with me, his hand laying on the mattress near where my head had been. "Frank?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. Rolling onto my back, I propped myself up with my elbows, and looked around. Gerard sat on the bottom bunk that was about three or four feet away from the one Frank and I shared, mumbling the words to whatever song now played on the radio, as he stared at me with a faint smile tainting his lips. Looking at an angle, I could see Mikey laying on the top bunk of Gerard's bed, with bandaging around his head, and some of his arms, and down the hall, Bob sat on the couch, rubbing the leg that I had earlier thought was twisted in the wrong direction. It seemed to be in it's proper place now, so I was debating on if I had just thought wrong, or if he had snapped it that way.

"Where are we?" I lifted one hand to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

Gerard let out a sigh, as the mumbling stopped, and I could hear the lyrics to the song.

"Burning on, just like a match you strike to..." the CD player sang softly.

"Tour bus," Gerard interrupted the lyrics.

"What?" a confused look must have appeared on my face, from how Gerard seemed to be contemplating how to explain.

"A bus in which people tour on. This would be one of those," he answered, and I could swear I heard Frank snickering behind me. Taking a glance down the hall, I could see a faint smile tracing Bob's lips. Since I could see it, though, I'm sure it wasn't just a small smile, he was probably trying not to laugh at me.

My eyes narrowed into a glare, though not seeming very threatening, "not what I meant! Why aren't we at the house?" The house. It wasn't mine. It was theirs.

"Because otherwise we'd be sitting in a pile of ashes," Gerard leaned back, apparently seeing my vacant face, and continued on with a sigh, "we burned down the house. There were too many bodies. Blood. Evidence that we lived there. That you lived there. We didn't need that."

An arm slowly crept across my stomach, as if wishing to wrap around my waist, and I turned my head to look at Frank. I still felt like someone was flicking me in the neck. I wondered if I had slept funny. Whenever I moved my head, it would hurt a little. "Are you alright?" certainly, my tone held worry. When I had fallen asleep, he had looked like he was on the verge of dying... if that's even possible for vampires.

"I'm fine, the question is, are you alright?" Frank searched my eyes, then looked past me, to Gerard.

"Why wouldn't I be? You're the one who got shot..."

"Because..." Frank hesitated, his eyes didn't seem to be on Gerard anymore, and they were too low to be on my face. It seemed he was staring at my neck. "I... bit you."