God Hates Us

Several hours later, Johnny finally comes up to see me. I can tell his footsteps a mile off, having heard them so many times, but they seem slow, less energetic than usual. Something's wrong.

He comes in, looking a little taken aback to catch me staring at the door, evidently waiting for him. "You alright?" he asks, sitting in his usual place on the side of the bed (though, it has to be said, a little closer to the edge than usual).

"Fine. You?"

"Fine."

And for the next ten minutes we sit in silence, something we both seem to be practised at. It's not an entirely comfortable silence, but I don't know what to say to improve his mood. He seems upset, or maybe angry, but I can't be sure whether he's angry with me or not. As Jimmy had said, I did hurt him in the process of trying to get out. Maybe he was taking my escape attempt personally.

"I'm not mad at you," he says in a dull tone, looking up from his hands and meeting my eyes.

"Oh. What's wrong, then?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," he says, too quickly. A sure sign that something is wrong.

"Okay, if you don't wanna talk about it-"

"No. I don't."

I'm taken aback by his sharp reply and stop talking, looking away and fixing my eyes instead on the dressing table.

"I'm sorry." He says it so quietly, I almost don't hear it, but then he reaches out and tentatively touches my arm. "Hey. I didn't mean to sound mad."

"S'okay." I smile wryly. "Shame I can't read your mind, huh?"

His expression freezes for a split second, then he chuckles lightly."That would be too weird."

He covered well, but not quite well enough. What's he hiding from me?

"Did I hurt you?" he asks suddenly, breaking my train of thought.

"What?"

"When I..." He gestures at the cuffs. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine." You worry far too much.

He laughs out loud at that, making me jump. It's the first time I've heard him laugh properly; not just a chuckle, but a genuine laugh. It's nice, in a strange sort of way.

"What's funny?"

We both turn sharply, my heartbeat quickening when I see who it is.

"Brian? What do you want?" Johnny demands, getting up so he's standing between me and the monster standing in the doorway.

"I want to talk to the girl."

"She has a name," Johnny said pointedly.

"Fine. I want to talk to Cass."

"So talk."

"Can I at least see her face?" Brian raises an eyebrow, which I'm able to see as Johnny moves reluctantly to the left, leaving me (in my opinion) entirely exposed.

"What the fuck do you want?" Fighting the urge to cringe away from him, I force myself to meet his eyes. No hint of silver; that's a good start.

He moves as if to take a step closer, but Johnny raises a hand warningly.

"Say it from there, Gates," I say bluntly.

"I'm not gonna tell you I didn't mean to hurt you, 'cause you wouldn't believe me anyway, but... I'm sorry. I promise I won't try and hurt you again."

For a moment, I'm too stunned to say anything. Then, my cynical side reasserts itself and I raise my eyebrows. "And I'm supposed to trust your word because...?"

"That's your call. I've said I'm sorry, and I am. I mean it." He looks at me and, for a moment, I almost think he looks hopeful. But that would be far too human; must be a trick of the light.

"He's telling the truth, Cass." Johnny turns slightly, looking quickly at me before fixing his eyes back on Gates.

"Right. Well, fine. Don't expect me to start trusting you or anything. But I believe you."

"Is that an accepted apology?" he pushes, a grin starting to appear on his face.

"You really want to get off the hook with Zack, don't you?" Johnny says, but from his tone I can tell he's smirking, even though I can't see his face.

"That's part of it, yeah."

I relent a little, if only for the sake of making him leave. "Alright. Apology accepted, then."

"Sweet. Thanks." For a moment, Brian looks almost surprised. Then he shrugs and turns, leaving the room as silently as he'd come in.

"Wow." Johnny sits back down on the bed. "Zacky must've really freaked him out."

"Is he really that bad?"

"That much of a jerk? Sometimes. Not so much until you showed up." He looks at me and cocks one eyebrow.

"What? Are you saying it's my fault?" I frown.

"No-one's fault. Just... Since we brought you here, there've been more problems than we anticipated."

"You're not just talking about Brian, are you?" I can hear something in his tone, something he wants to say, but can't. Or won't.

He exhales sharply, seeming to come to a decision, then looks at me. And I mean right at me, right in the eyes. There's something stirring just beneath the dark brown surface that I can't quite identify. Before I can speak, or even blink, he leans forwards, tilting his head slightly.

His lips are soft, and not as cold as I'd expect. My first instinct is to pull away, to fight, but for some reason, I don't feel the need to. I'm not in any danger; on the contrary, I feel safer with Johnny than I've felt with anyone else.

Suddenly he pulls back, looking panicked. "Oh God, I'm sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean-" He stops mid sentence.

The door slams shut, and I'm left alone again.

Oh...kay... What just happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've just started to fall asleep when I'm woken by the sudden and overwhelming sense than there's someone in the room. I sit bolt upright, then remember I'm chained up and growl softly in frustration.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Johnny." I relax when the light comes on and I see him sit down on the other end of the bed. He looks miserable. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't reply immediately, staring at his hands clasped in his lap. Finally, he looks up and says quietly, "I'm sorry about earlier. I... I shouldn't have done that."

That's it? I thought someone had died. Sheesh... "It's okay. Honestly."

He frowns at me. "What, so... You're not scared I'm gonna do what Brian did? Or worse?"

What could be worse? Wait, don't answer that. Out loud, I say, "You are the only vamp on this earth I've ever even begun to trust. I know you'd never do anything like that to me."

"I nearly did," he says, almost sullenly, and I remember when I'd cut myself downstairs, and I'd had to make him leave before his killer-instincts took over.

Shaking my head, I say firmly, "But you didn't. There are plenty of bad things I've nearly done, but didn't. Hundreds. Do you see me getting torn up over it?"

"Guess not," he replies, his tone a little less funereal. "Hey, you want out of those?"

"What?"

He pulls out a small key and unlocks the cuffs. "You're not going to try again, are you?"

"It wouldn't work twice." I'd already checked the windows; the locks had been replaced by better ones even I couldn't crack.

He nods. "That's true. And I don't know what Zacky'll do if you piss him off again."

"Touchy, isn't he?" I comment, raising my eyebrows.

"You have no idea," he says with a laugh.

I notice we're steering clear of the small matter of what happened earlier.

"That was a mistake," he says quickly.

For some reason, his words cause a small twinge of hurt. "Then why'd you do it?"

"I don't..." He stops. "Have I upset you?"

"Answer my question."

"I..." For a few seconds, he's speechless. Then, he turns his head slightly, as if listening to something downstairs. Checking no-one else is listening to us, I realise. Finally, he turns back to me, looking (if possible) paler than usual. It almost makes me want to laugh, how much like a frightened schoolboy he appears.

"Um..." He tries again. "Oh, this is gonna sound so stupid..."

"Say it," I prompt, fixing my eyes on his.

"There've been other girls, other humans, vamps too, but I've never felt...never felt this about any of them. Not as much as you." He averts his eyes and I feel myself blush; curse me for being so God-damned human!

"So, what are you saying?" I frown slightly, wondering if this is going in the direction I think it's going.

"Um..."

Come on! Are you that much of a wuss?

"Hey!"

"Answer the question then." I grin at the uncomfortable look on his face.

"If the others found out..." he whispers, glancing at the door again.

"I'm not gonna tell." Who'd believe me, anyway?

He nods once, then leans forwards until our cheeks are almost touching. I can feel his breath on my neck as he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him, "I think I...I love you."

"You..." I trail off, feeling my heartbeat increasing as my cheeks flush. He leans back, watching my changing expression.

"Is that... Are you...mad at me?" he asks, hesitantly.

"What? No. Um..." Now it's my turn to be hesitant. How is this possible? And more importantly, what the hell do I do now?

"You don't have to do anything. This is all my fault..." Johnny stands up and goes to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" I say quickly, frowning at him.

"I should go back down, before they get suspicious."

I can see the logic in that, but then something else makes me frown. "But won't they know if you're thinking about...?" I don't finish the sentence.

"I can hide it from them. Shit, they'll be able to hear it from you, though..." He trails off, evidently thinking hard. "Is there anything you can focus really hard on, and I mean really hard. Like, if someone comes up, could you think about that instead? It'll make them suspicious, but there's nothing else they can do."

"I guess." I think for a moment, then the obvious hits me. My family.

"Perfect." He smiles. "They won't be suspicious of that; they'll think you just miss your family."

I smile back. "Sorted. Now get your ass back down there before they come up."

"I'll see you later." He leans forwards, hesitates, then says with a grin, "By the way, you never did get that shower." Before I can react, he kisses me briefly on the cheek, then leaves in a dark blur.

After a few seconds, I unfreeze. Putting my face in my hands, I groan loudly.

What have you done?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But, despite my inward-berating, the fact remains that I haven't had a shower in over a week at least (I'm still not sure how long I've been here). So, grabbing the handful of clothes that had been left on the dresser since my escape attempt, I head into the bathroom.

When I've finished, I dress and sit on the bed, drying my hair on a spare towel. Ah, it's good to be clean!

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. Guess who.

"Cass?"

"Come on in."

The door opens; Johnny walks in, carrying a tray with a plate, four beer bottles and some cutlery in one hand, and a laptop case in the other.

"We can't eat downstairs because Matt's having dinner with a girl," he explains when I look at him quizzically.

"A human girl?"

He nods. "I don't think he's got anything sinister planned, don't worry. He just wants to get laid."

"Did not need to hear that, thanks." I grin and pat the bed.

He smiles, setting the tray down on the bed and opening the case. "D'you wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure. What've you got?"

"I'll let you pick," he says, firing it up and opening iTunes, then passing it to me. I scroll slowly down the extensive list of films, chuckling. Love Actually, Pride and Prejudice, Titanic...

"What's funny?" he asks as he settles himself on the bed, leaning against the wall.

I glance up. "I just didn't expect to find romances, that's all."

"Well Saw's there too," he says, pointing to it on the screen.

"Alright." I select a film and highlight it, then lean back, passing the computer back to him while I grab my food and a drink, then pause and pass the bottle to him. "Yours, I think."

"Ah." He holds it up to the light. "Yeah. Sorry."

"That's okay." I grab another one, taking the time to make sure I can see light through it.

"V for Vendetta... Good choice," he says, then reaches up and hits the lights, starting the movie.

While we're watching, without my realising it, his arm slowly moves until it's resting just above my shoulders, not quite touching me. When I do notice, instead of moving away as I normally would, I find myself (to my surprise as much as his) leaning my head against his warm shoulder. This seems to encourage him and he moves his arm down so it's draped round my shoulders, his hand resting by my arm. We sit watching the movie in silence and without moving, aside from me setting aside my empty plate and reaching for the other bottles, setting them on the nightstand so they're more easily accessible.

The movie finishes around one am. I yawn and glance up to see that Johnny's already fallen asleep, his head turned to the side and his arm limp around my shoulders. I close the laptop and push it to the end of the bed with my foot, then (the alternative being waking him up and possibly having to deal with a grumpy Johnny) I lean back against him and close my eyes. I'm more exhausted than I'd thought, and his shoulder makes a comfortable pillow.

It doesn't take long for me to drift off; just long enough for a small part of my mind to note how strange it is that I'm falling asleep next to a vampire.

...A vampire who's just told me he loves me.