My Guardian Vampire

I looked at Gerard, inhaling deeply and biting my lip as tears began to brim my eyes. No matter what I had said, I was not truly ready for death. I looked to Gerard, trying to be brave.

'Gerard... I want you to hear me.' I closed my eyes, lowering my head and concentrating hard. I wanted no one to be able to read my mind but him, and I wished desperately that I knew how, if it was at all possible. 'Gerard... Be brave. I love you so very, very much. I'll be okay.'

Gerard looked at me, wide-eyed. I don't know what this meant.

Bobby came up with a set of rings, laid on a velvet deep red pillow.

Brittany suddenly moaned, breaking the deep mood.

"Uhhh... Sorry," she said as we all looked at her. Frankie and her continued to make out after that. I laughed, though it was choked.

"My best friend," I said, explaining her action aloud. A tear rolled down my face.

Billie took my hand, and put the ring on my wedding finger. It slid on easily, but was a little too loose to fit right. I had felt this before when we first got them, but didn't want Billie to worry about the rings, so I had never told him. I took the other ring on the pillow and put it shakily on his finger. He lifted my veil, and wiped away my tears before kissing me.

A few people in the audience "aw"ed, but this just made me cry more. Gerard was the one that wiped away my tears whenever I was sad. Billie was simply the one that caused the sadness.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Let The Change begin."

Damien then took out a large blade, making my eyes go wide as I stared at it glinting in the candlelight that surrounded us.

"Hands," Damien said. I looked confused, so Billie took my hands and turned them over. He stayed holding my hands as Damien began to talk.

"There is no deeper connection one can give than the one between blood," he said, and took Billie's wrist, holding it tightly. He made a diagonal cut against the wrist, letting the blood settle on his wrist before continuing. He made another diagonal cut going the other way.

The blood spread, making an "X" on his wrist.

I looked at my own scar, wide-eyed.

"To trust her life in his shows the greatest love," Damien continued, re-opening my wound on my right hand, an "X" appearing. I began to feel woozy at the sight of the blood. My blood had barely began to spill, but as Damien cut the next X on Billie's other wrist, the blood from his first wound was leaking over, starting to slowly crawl down the side of his arms and drip to the floor. I felt the room tense; a lot of vampires with a lot of blood was never a good combination.

"AIDS!" Brittany yelled. "That is totally unhealthy!" Apparently she and Frankie had stopped making out to watch the horror show. No one seemed to notice or acknowledge it however, all eyes on us—on the blood. Damien cut my left wrist, making me wince as the uncut skin was broken. I was feeling lightheaded, my original cut fully leaking over. I hated Billie so much. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to have to marry him. I didn't want-

Damien lifted our wrists, showing us to press them together.

"No," I whimpered, the world starting to tip. Billie pressed our cuts together anyways, closing his eyes as our blood began to mix. Each pulse pushed our blood forwards, towards each other’s own life. Besides the overwhelming dizziness, I felt nothing strange. I closed my eyes, and when I thought of something else besides the blood, I felt a little better. I opened my eyes however to make sure my world wasn’t turning upside down. Billie’s face was locked into concentration and a look of… pain.

“It burns,” he whimpered, biting his lip. He took a deep breath in. “Damien, please begin the equality process before she kills me.”

“Equality?” I asked. Damien did not respond to me. He put the knife down and reached one hand out to touch Billie’s forehead, then put his other hand on my own.

“To be equal, you must first understand each other.” Damien closed his eyes, and Billie Joe did the same. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. I then began to feel strange, and then… very, very, tired.

…Tired, because I had been up all night, making sure the one I loved was safe after being burnt badly in the sun. Tired because I had spent two hundred years alone, watching family and friends die without rhyme or reason. Tired because I was sick of existing without purpose, being hated and feared for who I was. Tired because I kept trying and trying and trying to help others like me, wondering if this was why I was brought here, and yet it seemed to make no difference. Tired because people never got any more thankful or any less needy, blaming everything on someone else. Tired because I didn’t want to kill, I only wanted to live. Tired because the hunger for blood was endless, tireless. Tired because the hunger for something to live for, to feel for, was even more eternal, more deadly. Tired because I found a sudden spark, a hope—but wasn’t sure if it was possible, and I was so tired of having hopes dashed. Tired because I had finally found someone who accepted me for who I was, and the relief was overwhelming. Tired because I planned and planned and planned, used everything I had and let her see exactly what I was, and she was there for me, and it seemed I could finally get some sleep. Tired because she ran away and I had to give up everything I had to get her back. And fucking tired because now that I had her, she still wouldn’t want me, wouldn’t see why I needed her so badly. I was just tired and sick, and wanted something to keep me living…

And then I really was tired. I opened my eyes and swayed, and Damien went to steady me before I fell. I expected the ground to fall out from underneath me as I let gravity win, too tired to fight anymore.

But instead of me falling, Billie did.

He collapsed to the floor, holding onto his heart like he was having a heart attack.

“It hurts, oh god kill me it hurts!” He then began to tear at his clothing, trying to scratch at his chest. It took me a moment before I let gravity take me to the floor. I moved over him. Damien, apparently the most powerful vampire there was, had a ‘what the fuck is going on’ look on his face. He apparently had no idea how to help his friend. I moved over to Billie, barely having the strength to crawl. No one moved to help him besides me.

“Shh, Billie, it’s okay,” I said, trying to hold his hands. He pushed them away, and had now torn through his Jacket and shirt, creating large scratch marks that started to bleed. I tried to hold him still.

“Gerard!” I yelled. “Please help me quickly!” Gerard without a second yell was beside me, helping me hold him down. Billie growled loudly, and pushed Gerard away violently, making Gerard fall backwards.

“Fucking-“ Gerard cursed before stopping himself and coming back to help me. Billie wouldn’t hit me like he had Gerard, but kept pushing me away with enough force so I would get the message. “Guys! Help!” Gerard ordered. I saw Gerard’s friends give each other a look before flashing over to help us. I backed off while they restrained Billie.
I noticed Damien just stand there, doing nothing as Billie tried to rip at his own flesh. I gave him a disgusted look, but said nothing for the moment.

Instead, I knelt near Billie’s head, stroking his hair as he calmed down. Billie’s angry growls turned into weak hisses before he realized it wasn’t working. He cried, his face contorted in pain.

“My heart hurts so much,” he said, moaning as each wave of pain hit him.

“Mine too,” I said, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’m very tired also.” Billie managed a nod to say he understood before thrashing his head, still trying to get his hands free.

“How do you live?” he asked, gritting his teeth. He threw his head back as more pain hit him, his hands curling into fists.

“You know as well as I do that it’s not pain from every day, it’s the pain all together.” I suddenly realized that part of me had no idea how I knew this. The knowledge was rooted in the front of my mind. I knew especially because of how tired I was feeling after the moment of clarity.

I wasn’t feeling just tired from one night, or from a little while, it was from 200 years of internal torture. I did not know how my body wasn’t collapsing against the pressure from the hate, depression, sadness, and the mental and physical anguish of a 200 year old vampire. I must have been much stronger than I believed before.

“Kill me!” Billie roared, scaring me out of my thoughts.

“Billie, I can’t kill you,” I said. I suddenly felt Gerard stare at me, and I met his eyes before looking back down at Billie Joe. “I can’t. I know why you did what you did. You don’t deserve to be dead.”

“I… I almost killed Tré,” he said, crying more. “I used what I had against you, against everyone. I took you away from him. And I… I need to die.”

“Billie-“ I began.

“Argh!” he screamed, his eyes flashing. “Just do it! I can’t live with this pain.”

“I…” I trailed, not knowing what to say. I started to cry. I could never kill someone, especially someone who I knew was a good person and didn’t deserve to die. “I can’t Billie, I’m sorry.” He roared again, louder this time. The guys began to have a hard time keeping him down.

“You have to. I don’t want to hurt them, but I need to die. This is-” he started before another roll of pain hit him. “Please,” he whimpered. “It’s not just because of you. It’s all of it—I can’t take it. Please, end the suffering.”

“Ali,” Gerard said, looking at me. His look said everything: that I had to do this for Billie, that this was my responsibility. I had created this mess, and I was the one who was going to clean it up.

“How am I supposed to kill him?”

“Blood,” Billie whimpered. I looked at him confused, but I guess the pain was too strong for him to say anything else.

“Your blood,” Gerard said, grunting slightly as he tried to hold down one of Billie’s arms.

“But,” I started, but inhaled. I looked at my wrists, barely noticing through it all that they had been still bleeding in the first place. I saw that my left wrist was bleeding more, as it had not had as long to heal, and offered it to Billie Joe.

“Billie, I love you,” I said, smiling. Billie smiled weakly back before he began to slowly drink my liquid. After a few moments he stopped, looking at me with hateful eyes. I wondered if this was the right thing to do after all.

“What?” I asked. Billie took a moment to breath before answering, his lips stained red by my blood.

“Your blood doesn’t burn,” he said, his eyes closed. I looked at him strangely.

“Wha-“

“Hate me. Want to kill me.”

“Billie, you know I don’t-”

“I know you don’t, but try. If you’re worried about poison, that only happens when we bite-”

“I’m not worried about poison. I don’t want you to die.”

“I know kiddo,” Billie said, his eyes shut tightly from the pain. “But you gotta.” He opened his eyes, and looked at me, those green eyes pleading for their own death. I nodded, beginning to cry again. I tried sniffing, but it almost turned into me hyperventilating. I offered him my arm again and closed my eyes as I tried to think of all the relief I would be giving Billie. It was a good thing to do, the only real gift he had gotten for everything he had done. He would finally be able to sleep.

“Does it burn?” I asked, opening my eyes. Billie let go, shaking his head slightly while shutting his eyes again. His eyes did not shut tightly, but slowly as if he was becoming at ease.

“No, it tastes good,” he said, the stress lines in his head beginning to uncrease as he eased. “It’s making me very, very drowsy.”

I smiled, crying a little more. I think I knew what my blood was doing.

“I know too,” he said. I looked at him confused. I didn’t feel the fog; how the hell was he reading my mind?

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his body no longer tensing. The guys warily let go of him, staying there probably in case he began to freak out again. His hand lifted, and the guys visibly tensed, but Billie simply reached over and wiped the tears on my face.

“How could you cry over me?” he asked, his face smiling. I went to speak, but he interrupted. “’Cause I don’t feel bad about it. I’ve lived a long life. This is very nice; it doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I had much worse ways planned out of how I would go. I never imagined it being this pleasant.”

“Good,” I said, looking at him. A thought sparked my mind. “Maybe it was just taking the pain away-”

“No,” Billie said, shaking his head slightly as he closed his eyes again momentarily. When they opened again, I could see it—it was as if the light and colors were being sucked away slowly. The colors began to fade, seemingly melting into that original olive base underneath.

He was dying.