As She Fades

"Standing in the dark,
I can see your shadow.
You're the only light
That's breaking through the window.

There's times I stayed alive for you.
There's times I would have died for you.
There's times it didn't matter at all.

Will you help me find the right way up,
Or let me take the wrong way down?
Will you straighten me out,
Or make me take the long way around?
I took the low road in.
I'll take the high road out.
I'll do whatever it takes
To be the mistake you can't live without."
- Three Days Grace

Torryn's final scream still echoed through Antony's mind, even hours later. "Raphael!" The way her lip quivered, the way her gray eyes widened, the way she'd looked so…lost. But here, now, she sat in tumultuous silence in a chair beside the bed, just staring at the werewolf's still form beneath the covers — her own covers, her own bed, where she'd insisted he be taken.

Antony didn't think she'd moved any more than the dead man had. He and Skylar and everyone else had been leaving her room in shifts to clean themselves up and take care of what wounds remained, but they always returned, and now, as the early hours of the morning began to creep up fast upon them, Antony and Skylar stood alone with her, side by side near the doorway, just watching her. Just waiting.

She was still covered in her own grime, still sagging beneath her own exhaustion, but they both knew better than to suggest that she shower or lie down. They wouldn't get a response. They wouldn't even receive a glance.

Antony clenched his fists tightly at his sides as he watched her, guilt and anger writhing through him for the thousandth time since they'd come home. This was his fault. He should've been paying attention to more than just himself and Torryn. He should've been taking the situation more seriously, no matter how giddy he'd been with pain. Fuck, someone should've been paying attention. Anyone. Raphael shouldn't have been lying on that bed. Torryn shouldn't have been looking so…

"She's not any better, is she?" Becca murmured as she stepped through the doorway and came to stand at Antony's side. Both of Torryn's parents followed her in, but Antony didn't stop watching the bloody woman who had yet to rise from her silent vigil. He refused to even acknowledge Becca's presence, but it's not like she'd ever figure that out. She'd be gone by now if she understood anything right now.

"Why would she be?" Ripley asked, and Antony let his gaze drift briefly to the Progeny, though he quickly found himself unnerved by those too-silver eyes and turned back to Torryn. "She's just lost someone who I'm sure was very dear to her, and she no doubt feels his death was her fault. If this is how she's handling her grief, then she's going to be doing it for quite some time."

He must not have known what Becca had tried to do. Not if he was talking to her so calmly. Torryn's mother must not have known, either, if she wasn't launching herself at the vampire in an outrage. Antony knew he'd rip a woman to shreds if she'd tried to trade his daughter over for something so obviously stupid — or at all. Only Torryn's stoic face was keeping him from launching himself at Becca as it was.

Becca nodded her understanding, then returned her attention to Torryn and said softly, as if she actually cared, "You should get some sleep before you further hurt yourself, especially now that there's no healer in easy reach."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," Torryn said sharply, still refusing to tear her gaze from Raphael, and Antony found himself slightly taken aback by the venom to her voice. He'd expected some hatred, but… "Of course, if we keep you around, that probably won't be long from now, will it?"

"Will you stop saying things like that? I did what I had to do to keep Antony safe. Nothing more," Becca said, annoyed and defensive, and before Antony could even turn his murderous glare to the vampire, Torryn appeared before her, coming to stand barely an inch from Becca's face. He was stunned. He hadn't even seen her move, and he was a vampire — but then he saw the Progeny silver sheen to her irises, and he knew exactly why she was moving outside of her usual spectrum.

"Do you know the one person who deserved to die tonight?" she asked in a calm voice that clashed eerily with the hatred that shone in her eyes, but Becca didn't flinch. "You. Not only did you try to reverse the one good thing I've managed to fucking do, not only did you try to sentence me and two dozen other Progeny to lives full of forced bleedings and torture, but you also set everyone I care about up to die. I don't want to sound arrogant, but we all know that Antony would've come after me, that Skylar would've fucking come after me, that even my parents would've come after me, and she would've killed all of them in a heartbeat without even a hint of remorse, no matter what lies she fed to your stupid ass. So don't try to defend yourself. Don't try to act like what you did was noble. What you did would have gotten everyone but you killed, you selfish bitch."

"You would've done the same exact thing under the circumstances," Becca retorted sharply, not shrinking back even a hair. "Why were you even leaving the house to begin with, hm? We all know where you were going," she said smugly, as if she thought she knew everything in the universe, and Antony bristled. "You were going to make a deal with Emmeline yourself, and you were going to —"

In another blur of motion, Torryn slammed her forearm into the vampire's chest and rammed her straight back into the wall behind her to a chorus of cracking plaster, but Becca's bitter expression didn't shift even as blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth. "Don't you dare act like you fucking know me," Torryn said in a low snarl, close enough to Becca now that their noses nearly touched. "I might have been going to see Emmeline, and I might have been going to make a deal, but I was not going to risk everyone else's life over it."

"Then what were you going to do, hm? Just what did you, the eighteen-year-old genius, come up with?" Becca spat, leveling Torryn with a steely glare of her own.

Torryn pressed her forearm harder against the vampire's chest, but she sill wouldn't so much as flinch. "I was going to trade myself for a truce, for protection, on Antony's behalf, not to help him become the best master he could be, like you so stupidly did."

"Oh, yeah," Becca said with a painfully forced laugh. "I'm sure that would've worked out perfectly."

"Yeah? How well did your little attempt go again?"

Becca spat a mouthful of blood into Torryn's face. "You're weak. You know that, right?" she all but hissed. "Stupid. Naive. You're not worthy of him. You never were, and you never will be."

Finally, Antony snapped, and in a tight snarl, he said, "Get the fuck out of my house. Now." Torryn stepped back without hesitation, obviously wanting Becca as far gone as physically possible, and Becca shoved past her and stormed out of the room with a huff. Antony was surprised she hadn't put up more of a fight, but he wasn't about to call her back and ask for another bout of shouting.

Not bothering to wipe away the fresh blood spattered across her face, Torryn returned to her post next to the bed, sinking to her knees and resting her cheek against the edge of the mattress as she looked up at the unmoving werewolf. She looked drained, and Antony wasn't sure how she was still mustering the energy to do much more than breathe. Even he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake to deal with this nightmare again, and he hadn't been nearly as close to Raphael as she seemed to have been.

Who knew that using a man as an informant and healer could create such a bond?

"The only person who deserved to live tonight was him," she whispered, and no one spoke, all straining to hear her in the silence. "The one person who shouldn't have been there tonight, who never would have been there if I hadn't insisted on forming a stupid partnership with him…" Her voice cracked, and she turned her head to bury her face into the blankets as her shoulders began to jerk with silent sobs. Finally, she was letting it out. He hoped it helped.

"I never realized how much you cared for him," Skylar said softly, his eyes focused intently upon her form, and Antony could tell that he wanted nothing more than to go to her, though he seemed to know better than to try.

"I never realized how much he cared for me," she responded, her voice trembling. "It sounds silly, but he was…like a father to me, I guess, for what little time we spent together. No offense, Ripley."

"I was never able to be there for you like he was," her father murmured, his silver eyes showing not a single hint of emotion. "None taken."

She fell silent then, and she lifted her head from the mattress to look down at the scars that still marred the skin of her wrists, the bite marks that Raphael had left her as an eternal reminder. "This is all my fault. All of it. Even with Becca's idiotic plan, this is my fault. If anyone deserved to die tonight, it was me."

"You're wrong," Antony said firmly, unable to keep himself from glaring at her for even daring to think such a thing. "No one deserved to die tonight. This should never have happened. This is not your fault."

"I'm the one who led Emmeline right to you," she reminded him softly, running her fingers over the faded bite marks on one wrist. "I'm the one who tried to face her on my own, just because I had something to prove. I'm the one who drew her wrath and her interest. If I would've just listened to Raphael when he told me not to mess with the Big Five…"

Antony hesitated. There was truth to her words, and he and everyone else knew that, but…damn it, no. This was not her fault. No one should've died. Emmeline was to blame. Emmeline and the Lord and Diederick — and Becca.

But if Torryn hadn't…

No. He wouldn't believe it.

"It's the Big Three now, thanks to you," he pointed out, skirting the more painful topic and not caring just how obvious it was.

"Actually, I'd say it's the Big Four," Skylar said, looking between Antony and Torryn. "You do perfectly fit the part, you know."

"Me? Really?" Antony asked, turning to the human with a frown furrowing his brow. "I'm not so sure I can agree with that. I mean, I've helped to take out a few masters in my day, but I've always had help. I'm young. Really, really young by undead standards. I just barely accepted the title of master after that battle with Caleb. I don't think I could call myself one of the higher-up masters, too."

"I think he's right," Ripley said, tilting his head toward Skylar. "You've obviously got the strength, your coven has potential, and your heart is in the right place. I think you could be one of the first merciful masters to ever claw his way to the top."

"I don't know…" Antony's eyes flicked away from the man when he noticed Torryn's mother leaving their small gathering, and he watched with a mixture of confusion and awe as the woman knelt at Torryn's side and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder.

Was she really, truly, finally going to take on the role of the mother?

After all he'd heard about her, he couldn't quite believe it…

-?-

Torryn didn't start at the hand on her shoulder, having been expecting someone to come to her eventually, but when her mother's voice met her ears, she physically jumped. Mom…?

"What you did was stupid," the woman said softly, "and yes, every bit of this could've been prevented…if you could see the damn future." Torryn lifted her head from the bed and turned to stare at her mother in confusion, and as the cool air hit her face, she remembered that her cheeks were streaked with tears. Great. Her mother had always despised any sign of weakness. But here, now, she only looked at her with sympathy in her brown eyes, not judgment, and she went on in that same soft, compassionate voice. "This man didn't deserve to die. No one did, not tonight. But no matter how dumb that first decision was, nothing after it is entirely your fault. You didn't force the big bad vampire's hand. She did that by herself. And you didn't kill this man. You shouldn't blame yourself for the actions of the killers you faced tonight."

Those brown eyes left Torryn's face and drifted to where Raphael lay still on the bed. "It wasn't fair, what happened to him. To be honest, none of your life has ever been fair. I haven't been fair to you, Ripley hasn't been fair, all the vampires and other creepy crawlies you've been forced up against…even those two boys who've been bickering over you for God only knows how long. We've all done things to you that weren't right, just like I'm sure you've done things to all of us and to a thousand other people that weren't quite fair." She turned back to Torryn, her expression filled with the stubborn determination that Torryn had always felt, and she found herself in awe of the woman before her. "But you need to work past it, just like everyone does. Your life has been filled with a lot more unfairness than most, but honestly, that just means you've gotten stronger faster. You can mourn this man's loss — and I hope you do, for however long it takes you — but you can't let it affect you forever. No matter how much hatred you feel toward yourself, toward the vampires who did this, toward that Barbie-doll vampire and her stupid idea of a deal with the devil, you need to move past it."

A smile suddenly broke through to emphasize the deep wrinkles that lined her face, the years upon years worth of laugh lines, and she gently patted Torryn's hand, a light, motherly touch that the girl barely knew. "I've heard about what you've been trying to do, how you've been trying to save someone other than yourself for once. You're working toward the greater good here, and no matter how unfair life is to you, you need to keep doing that, because it's…it's what you need to do. It's what will keep you going." She looked slyly toward where Antony and Skylar stood, still chatting away with Ripley and obviously pretending not to notice the two women, and she added, "Other than those two bastards, I mean. Just don't let them fuck with you."

Speechless, Torryn could only pull her mother into a tight embrace and let out a light laugh, half stunned and half thankful for this woman as she hugged her back just as tightly. "Thank you…Mom."

"Any time, Torryn. Any time," she said, and after a brief pause, she pulled back. Torryn sat back to look at the woman kneeling beside her, this smiling, motherly woman who seemed nothing like the woman Torryn had always known, and her awe only seemed to make the woman smile more. "I'll…leave you to it, then. Let me know if you need anything, all right?" she said, resting a hand on Torryn's shoulder again and giving a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, thanks. I…love you," Torryn said hesitantly, and at that, the woman positively beamed.

"I love you, too," she said, finally getting to her feet, the warmth of her hand leaving Torryn's shoulder. "Don't do anything else too stupid today, all right?" she added in a teasing voice, then she turned to head back toward the cluster of men who were still very carefully not looking at them.

"Come on, Ripley," her mother said, taking the man's hand as she brushed past him and headed toward the door. "Let's leave them to their business."

"Goodbye, then," Ripley said with a small smile, and Torryn almost smiled, herself, at the pride shining in his silver eyes as he looked at her. "Be safe."

But soon, they were gone, and Skylar said hesitantly, "Is it…all right now? Are you…all right?"

"Nothing will ever be all right, but I'll…I'll get over it eventually," she said softly, and she stood, her eyes focused on Raphael's still form once more. Guilt and sorrow and rage tore through her anew as she took in his messy hair, his peaceful face, his bulky figure beneath the blankets, the old scars that marred the flesh his clothes had always hidden. He shouldn't have died. He should've come out on top. She should've saved him.

She took his hand tightly in hers, and she swore she could feel that healing heat seeping into her skin, but her state didn't change. Nothing healed. Nothing ever would. It was all in her mind.

"I'll miss you, Raphael," she whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, then she carefully set his arm back down on the bed and slipped her fingers from his. For a moment longer, she gazed upon him, trying to calm her whirlwind of emotions, then she finally turned and walked away.

She'd made a decision. In the middle of this chaos, something had become clear to her.

"Stay with him for a minute," she said to Skylar as she walked past him, making her way toward the door. "I need to talk to Antony about something." The vampire and the human both looked surprised, but the latter merely nodded, and the former followed her out of the room and down the hall.

She led the way into his room and shut the door quietly behind him. She'd expected to be pelted by memories of corpses and pools of blood and Becca's bare body writhing in ecstasy, but beyond what she, herself, let rise to the surface, nothing came. She was drained. She was too tired to keep remembering all of the things that had gone wrong. At least, for now.

"I'm still shaken, and hurt, and angry, and just…everything, but that's all the more reason to do this now," she said softly, her eyes on the doorknob she still held clenched in her hand, and she took a deep breath before she finally turned to face Antony.

"Honestly, I want nothing more than to get out of this fucked-up world of weird supernatural creatures. I want to run from all of these vampires who want to use me as food and good old-fashioned fun, and I want to stop dealing with all of this unnecessary death and pain and utter shit. But I know that, even if I leave, you'll be in the thick of it and Skylar will be on the fringe, always, and that my parting won't change anything for you. And I know that I'll always feel guilty for it, for skipping out on all of the good I could've done if I'd just sucked it up and dealt with all of the things that hurt, guilty for all of the pain I could've saved you if I'd stuck around to watch your ass.

"What I'm trying to say is…I can't be with neither of you, and I used to think that I couldn't be with one of you but not the other, but I've realized that I can have you both in my life without being romantically involved with you both. We're in this fucked-up paranormal land together, because we're all fucked-up supernatural creatures, and…" She paused to take another deep breath, barely able to focus on his motionless face as she gathered her thoughts together in her mind.

"Antony, you've always been the first to say that you could protect me the best, and I don't doubt that at all. You've saved my ass plenty of times, and I've done the same for you. I think…Maybe we were brought together to protect each other." Hope glowed at the back of his eyes, but she went on. "But protection isn't what I need in a romantic relationship. I'd like to…to serve you, Antony. To keep you safe and fed, and to help you make whatever decisions you need to make, whatever deals you need to make, to win whatever fights you need to win. I still want to be here with you, but…even though I love you with all of my heart and I always will, I don't think we're quite right for each other in the way you want us to be."

"I…think I understand," Antony said softly, but she could see the heartbreak in his eyes, and she took his hands in hers gently and continued on with a new passion to her tone, a new eagerness. He didn't understand, and she needed him to.

"You're an amazing person, even as an undead, but you're…you're passionate, inherently sexual and violent, and I don't think that's what I need right now. Skylar offers some form of steadiness, of constancy, of unchanging devotion, while you offer possessiveness, mindless jealousy, and constant violence, physical and emotional and carnal, because of it. You've told me before that you like me for me, including but not limited to my physical form, and I feel the same way toward you, but…I don't need a constant whirlwind of desire and danger, fighting and sex. I need something quieter, something more…serious. I think I…I need Skylar, Antony. I think he can take care of me better emotionally than you can. With him, I can focus on college, on something like a normal life. You…Your only concern is your coven. And there's nothing wrong with that, but I don't…I don't think you have time to fit my feelings in around that."

She smiled, and she hated herself just a bit as she felt the heat of tears welling in her eyes. His face was stoic, carefully empty, but the way he tightened his hold on her hands in return told her that he wanted nothing more than to turn and run from what she was saying. She hated saying this, but it needed to be said.

"I want to serve you, though. I want to be of use. I will feed you if you wish it, I will fight for you if you wish it, I will aid you in strategizing, in making deals, in helping your coven to grow if you wish it. Hell, in the end, Skylar might even be okay with me taking advantage of your violent and passionate nature every now and again, to take the edge off. But even if he doesn't, even if you're not interested in it, I…I would be honored if you would allow me to be a member of your coven, Antony. I would be honored if you would allow me to serve under you."

There was only silence for a moment, and she frowned when he bowed his head but didn't speak. But then, suddenly, he was pulling her hard against him, his lips crashing into hers in an eager, passionate kiss that she gladly returned, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"I don't know if I can have you by my side every night without vying for your affections," he growled against her lips.

She laughed and leaned back to look up at him, her arms still around him, and she smirked — a smirk that she realized too late was his, exactly, on her own face. "I never said you had to stop. You can chase after me just like Skylar's been doing all this time. Get some payback, you know?" she teased.

"Do I get to fuck you in a car at some point?" he asked with a smirk of his own, the growl leaving his voice as he teased her, and his arm tightened around her to pull her closer against him. "Because I hear he got to do that, and I don't think it's fair that I'm missing out on such a fun time."

"Come on, Antony," she said with another laugh. "Do you accept my offer or not?"

"I do," he said, and his smirk never wavered. "If that's the only way I can have you, of course I do."

"But there's a condition: you and your coven have to refrain from hurting people and help me save any other enslaved Progeny and humans I can find."

He grinned, his acceptance glowing in his eyes. "I'll consider it."

With a mischievous smile of her own, she asked, "So, can I still stay in this house with you?"

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" he asked, arching an eyebrow down at her in question, their faces still far too close, though neither of them seemed to mind. "I mean, we're both very, very bad at resisting temptation, and we're both very, very tempting."

"I already told you that you can keep chasing me," she said, his smirk quirking her lips once more. "Or you could chase after Becca or something. Whatever floats your boat."

Without waiting for a response, without another word of her own, she slipped from his arms and happily left the room, flashing him one last smile over her shoulder before she disappeared — to return to Skylar.

Alone now, Antony smiled to himself, bittersweet. Always around, always protecting him, always available for blood and battle…but totally off-limits for the one thing he so desperately wanted, so painfully needed: love.

Maybe he could do this.

If you really loved something, after all, you had to let it go…

And God damn him if he didn't love her. With everything he had.