Reaper

“No, you will not!” Sawyer hissed, grabbing my arm roughly.

We locked eyes for a moment. I narrowed my brown eyes at his green ones, knowing once again that we were in a battle of wills. On any other subject, I probably would have let him win. But not with this – I was determined to help Jesse, even if it meant going along with one of Simon’s theories.

“I’ll do it,” I repeated through gritted teeth, my eyes still locked with Sawyer’s.

He cursed and strode out of the room quickly, slamming the door in a flourish. I was left to stare at the white door, blinking in surprise at his outburst.

Simon cleared his throat. “Charlie, I’m sorry. You can go after him, if you’d like. You don’t have to do this.”

I shook my head, brushing invisible dust off myself. I just wanted the feeling to go away. “No. It’s fine. I’ll deal with him later,” I muttered.

Simon nodded and knelt down next to the chair, taking hold of my arm. He pushed my sweater sleeve up to my elbow, and pulled out a syringe and other various medical necessities from the little plastic box. I watched as he tied off the arm and cleaned it, with such ease that it made me seriously think about where the hell he’d gotten trained.

Lina, from across the room, smiled at me. “Simon graduated from medical school, no need to worry. You’re in good hands.”

I was so surprised that I flinched away from Simon’s touch. I supposed it was something I should get used to, but all these new revelations about Reapers and what they could do was a little overwhelming. It wasn’t unbelievable that Lina could read minds. I just hadn’t realized she could.

I watched as Saphira leaned over Jesse, combing her long hair out of her face. She whispered something quietly to him as he arched his back in pain again, clenching his fist. She carefully wove her pale hand into his, whispering calm words in his ear, brushing his hair off of his matted forehead. She looked like she cared for him, more than just a guardian. The thought made me a little uneasy.

I winced as Simon squeezed my wrist. “Now, you’re going to feel a pinch…” And with that, he carefully slid the end of the syringe into my arm.

I bit my lip, hard, trying not to say anything. It hurt, but not enough to warrant me saying so, especially when Jesse was clearly in worse shape. I squeezed my eyes shut when I saw him start to draw blood out of the vein. It was dark, deep red, and much different than the color that was splattered all over my pants.

I cleared my throat. “So, um, why do you think this will help?” I asked quietly.

Simon didn’t look up, which I was thankful for. “Well, okay. The difference between Reapers, Vampires, Werewolves, and Humans is all down to genetics,” he mumbled, carefully pulling the needle out and covering it. “Reapers don’t produce venom, that much is true. But they do lock onto the victim’s genetic code in order to harvest their spirit. Since you are immune to that, there must be something in your genetic coding to neutralize it’s effect.” He cleaned off my arm and untied it, massaging it for a second to start the blood flow back. “Since Reapers are so close to werewolves, genetically, and you’re immune to Reapers, genetically, I assumed there might be something in here-“ He held up the full syringe. “-That could help Jesse’s cells fight off the werewolf venom.”

I nodded, feeling a little light-headed.

Lina looked up from where she was sitting. “Simon, you should probably use it. I think he’s getting worse.”

Simon nodded, standing up. “Charlie, before I do this, I need to ask you something. I don’t want to cause another problem while I’m solving one.” He leaned in close to my ear. “You don’t have any infections, do you?”

I blushed a dark red, thankful that he hadn’t asked that in front of Sawyer. “N-No. I, uh, I’ve never…” I looked him in the eyes, raising my eyebrows.

He seemed to get the hint. He cleared his throat awkwardly and stood up. “Alright then.”

I couldn’t see much of what was going on once Simon leaned over Jesse. In truth, I was too afraid to look as he plunged the syringe full of my blood into Jesse’s arm. Saphira and Lina held him down as he twisted and convulsed from the pain, letting out a stream of curses. It was all kind of a blur. I felt suddenly like I was in an episode of Lost, and we had resorted to the type of medicine that no rational person would use. I squeezed my eyes shut as I saw Simon’s arm tense, emptying the contents into Jesse’s bloodstream.

Jesse screamed.

I bit my lip and willed back the tears, trying to drown out the sound. But when I did, all I could see and hear was that damn gunshot again, the one that I had fired, and I was overwhelmed with another wave of guilt.

Suddenly, I jumped out of the chair. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I said quickly, and I bolted out of the room.

I’m not sure how I got there, but in a matter of seconds I had run down the hallway to the next room, yanked open the door, and promptly shut it, leaning up against it. I loudly let out a breath that I wasn’t aware I’d been holding, and I slid down the door until I was sitting on the ground. I pulled my knees up to my chest, and for the first time in a long, long time, I cried.

The tears came fast and hot, and it was one of those ugly cries that you like to forget ever happened. The sobs that escaped my mouth wracked at my chest on the way up, making my whole body shake. I breathed in and out loudly, wiping my nose angrily on my sleeve, trying to ignore the pain from where the needle had been. It only reminded me of how completely screwed up everything was at the moment, how drastically my life had made a complete U-turn in the last week.

After a few minutes, I heard a knock at the door.

“Charlie?”

It was Sawyer. I hadn’t expected him to come looking for me, or even know where I was, so knowing he was just on the other side of that door was a little surprising. I had assumed he wanted nothing to do with me at the moment, and I’m sure part of that was true. But the concern in his voice was too much for me to ignore. Plus, I didn’t exactly want to be left alone with my thoughts.

“It’s open,” I said quietly. I was surprised at how gravelly and broken it sounded.

In seconds, he had wrenched the door open and saw that I was sitting in front of it, my knees pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped up around them, curled up in a ball on the floor. He shut the door behind him and dropped to his knees in front of me, hurriedly checking my face to see if anything was wrong. When he saw that my eyes were red and that I’m sure I had snot running down my face, he pulled me into his lap, holding me close to him.

And that made me start crying again.

I could tell that he wasn’t exactly used to this kind of thing, having to comfort crying women, but he did what he could. He whispered things in my ear as he stroked my hair, telling me that it was going to be alright. He kissed my forehead and held me close to his chest so that I could hear his heart beating somewhere beneath the brown leather jacket. As much as I wanted to believe him, I knew that it wasn’t true. But hearing it helped.

After what felt like an eternity like that, I finally sighed and lifted my head away from his chest. “I need to shower,” I said quietly, my lips moving against his jacket.

“Oh, alright.” He seemed a little uneasy.

He scooped me up easily in his arms and stood up, carrying me into the large, very white bathroom. He set me down on the counter, and I sat there, staring at my legs. The rust-colored denim looked horrifying in the fluorescent light. I could only imagine that my face looked much worse, but I hadn’t gotten up the nerve to look at myself in the mirror.

He stood in front of me and urged my chin up to look at him. His eyes were green and sad and pleading, and I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” he murmured, before quickly placing a kiss on my forehead and then leaving.

With a sigh, I slid down off of the counter. I stripped out of my clothing without looking at myself in the mirror, too scared of what might be looking back at me. I didn’t want to see what I’d become, not by a long shot.

It didn’t help once I stepped under the hot water. I watched, with an anxious stomach, as the water ran red over my body, the blood running in rivulets in the shower water onto the pristine white floor and down the drain. There was just so much of it. No matter how many times I washed my hair – four, to be exact – or scrubbed my skin – three – I still didn’t feel clean. I had a sinking feeling that I was never going to feel clean, not after what had happened. Scrubbing wasn’t going to get rid of that image in my head, the one tattooed to the inside of my eyelids, of that werewolf. I couldn’t forget his face. I couldn’t forget the sounds that had come from Jesse’s mouth, or the look on Sawyer’s face with the gun.

I had seen Reaper attacks before, and they were nerve-wracking, but they were by no means a bloodbath. This was entirely new ground. That, coupled with the fact that that gun hadn’t felt completely foreign in my hands. That it felt natural to hold it. To shoot. To kill.

That thought alone made me repeat the washing process one more time.

When I stepped out, I could see a foggy image of myself in the massive mirror. My skin was an angry pink color from the harsh scrub I had given it, but at least it was clean. I quickly dried myself off and wrapped myself in a towel before realizing that I had forgotten something important.

“Uh, Sawyer?”

He was on the other side of the door in a second. “Yeah?”

“I don’t have clothes,” I said bluntly.

I heard him clear his throat, and then exhale loudly. There was some shuffling, and some drawers opening and closing, and a few curses under his breath before he was back at the door. “There’s nothing in here,” he muttered. “Just take this for now.”

He opened the door just a bit to stick his hand through, clutching a white shirt. I took it carefully and slid it on, realizing that it was the shirt he had been wearing. Thankfully it was clean, since he had worn a jacket, but it still smelled very much like him. I felt my face flush as I grabbed for my underwear, wanting at least something to cover myself up.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Sawyer was laying on the bed, his arms folded behind his head. He was, in fact, shirtless, as I had suspected. I tried not to stare at him as I sat down next to him, awkwardly pulling my hair into a ponytail.

He cleared his throat. “I just checked on your friend. He says the burning’s stopped.”

I gawked at him. “Seriously?”

He nodded curtly, staring at a space across the room. I could tell that this wasn’t something he wanted to discuss, but the fact that he had said anything at all meant that he was acknowledging the fact that he had been wrong. Simon had been right about the blood – if nothing else, at least it slowed the effects, made it stop hurting him.

But I could tell that wasn’t what was bothering him.

“You should feel relieved.”

I bit my lip. “I am,” I said quietly, staring at my hands that were folded in my lap. I sighed. “So you heard him, then.”

He didn’t need any clarification. He glanced at me sheepishly. “Listen, Charlie, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped-“

“No, you listen. That was a private conversation-“

“But you have to understand, I was worried when I Sensed your anger-“

“And you, of course, heard it out of context-“

“And I knocked on the door-“

“I never said I loved him back, Sawyer.”

We stared at each other for a few moments, neither of us willing to break the silence that had settled on our lips. The realization flickered over his face as he searched mine. Slowly, his body relaxed, and he let his eyes slide shut. That was what had bothered him?

“Oh,” he mumbled, rubbing his face with his hand. He cleared his throat. “Well.”

I subconsciously stared at his chest, I only for no other reason than the fact that I was too nervous to make eye contact. “I do love him. Jesse, I mean.” Sawyer stiffened. “As a friend. Or a brother. He’s done a lot for me, and he’s been there for me when anyone else would have gotten the hell out of dodge,” I told him, giggling a little under my breath. “But I don’t feel for him the way I feel about you.”

I saw the ghost of a smile dance across his lips. His face quickly turned grave again, and this time he opened his eyes. He sat up quickly, holding my gaze.

“Charlotte, if you ever touch that gun again, so help me…” I couldn’t hold back a giggle. “I’m serious. I told you to stay in the car-“

I kissed him to shut him up. He gladly took the bait, curling his hand around my neck and bringing me closer to him. I gladly let him claim my mouth as his, his lips hot and desperate on my own. It was a welcome escape from whatever was on my mind, because it’s not like I could think straight with Sawyer kissing me like that. All I could think of was him, how much I was surprised to find that I cared about him. He had become a fixture in my life in just a few short weeks, and he managed to take my breath away every time I looked at him.

After a few minutes we pulled away. I was lying on top of him, my whole body flush with his. His arms were wrapped lazily around my waist, and I laid my head on his chest. I felt his heart thump away rhythmically beneath my cheek, coming down from the feverish pace it had been working at a few minutes before.

“We go to see Tobias tonight,” he murmured against my hair. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

I sighed, and snuggled in closer to his chest, preparing to sleep. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

And I fell asleep to the sound of Sawyer breathing softly below me.