As She Fades

"I tell myself that you're no good for me.
I wish you well, but desire never leaves.
I could fight this 'til the end,
But maybe I don't wanna win.

I breathe you in again, just to feel you
Underneath my skin, holding on to
The sweet escape is always laced with a familiar taste of poison.

I don't wanna be saved; I don't wanna be sober.
I want you on my mind, in my dreams, behind these eyes,
And I won't wake up, no, not this time."
- Halestorm

Faced with the door of her nightmares, Torryn had to pause and take a deep breath before she could finally raise her hand to knock. Her knuckles had barely tapped the wood when it was pulled from her, and Skylar's brightly smiling face appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Torryn," he said, stepping aside with a sweeping gesture to invite her inside, and she smiled halfheartedly up at him as she brushed by. "You made it here sooner than I expected."

She shrugged, looking around the moderately spacious living room that she'd entered. "Class let out early, and I've never really been a slow driver."

He chuckled and shut the door. "Can't say I'm surprised. Come on. Dinner should be about ready." She followed as he lead the way through a door and into a cozy dining room, even going so far as to pull a chair out for her close to the door. Thanking him, she sank into it, her eyes already scanning the room in appraisal. Pictures in pretty frames lined the beige wall, baby Skylars and Lindseys and Madisons smiling down at her from all around with their families, and lacy curtains covered the windows. She'd bet all the money she had in her trunk right now that Lindsey was the one to thank for it.

"I'm not gonna lie," she said, finally meeting Skylar's gaze. "This place is a lot nicer than I thought it'd be."

He grinned. "It was a dump when we got it, but Lindsey's a miracle worker."

She smiled, looking toward the porcelain figurines that stared at her from a corner shelf. "I figured."

"Dinner has arrived," came the joyous but airy voice of someone Torryn hadn't seen in months. Lindsey swept in — tall, thin, and delicately beautiful — with Madison on her tail — short, chubby, and perpetually sour. Lindsey grinned as she placed the two bowls she carried on the table between the already-set plates and glasses, her pale blonde ponytail swaying at her back, and she went on pleasantly, "Here, we have mashed potatoes swimming in a sea of brown gravy and a bowl of dirty rice. My beautiful assistant" — she gestured to Madison, who dropped a platter onto the table's center rather unceremoniously — "has brought in the chicken, baked in some mysterious way in the oven, which I had nothing to do with." Skylar laughed, but Torryn's mouth had gone dry, and her mind was filling with more and more panic the longer she looked at her old friends.

The boy rose, still smiling as he said, "I'll go grab something to drink."

"I knew I was forgetting something," Lindsey said, frowning in dismay, as she watched him pass through the doorway.

The two women seated themselves, and Torryn looked awkwardly between them, wondering just what the hell she should say. Or should she even say anything? Can't I just go back to that coven? I'm better with a claymore than I am with these two. She couldn't believe that these were the people she'd spent most of her time with in high school. She couldn't believe that they all used to talk together for hours on end.

She couldn't believe that she'd been the one to end that.

A moment passed, then Lindsey met her eyes and said gently, "We know what happened."

"Yeah," Madison chimed in, decidedly less softly. "I'll probably always resent you for what you did to him, but he told us everything, and it's kind of impossible to place all of the blame on you for what went down." Shocked, Torryn could only look from one girl to the other, mouth half open.

"And you're more than welcome to come stay with us if you want out," Lindsey added, her tone even kinder now, as if to make up for Madison's harshness. "We have plenty of room for you here."

Torryn opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, floundering as she continued to look back and forth between the pair. What the hell was this? What the hell was it that they knew?

"They know what you are," Skylar said softly as he entered the room, carefully placing a pitcher of iced tea on one side of the table and a pitcher of water on the other. He looked to Torryn, meeting her eyes with a small smile. "And what he is. Was, I mean. At the time."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she blurted. "Why would you do that?"

His smile grew, and he sat down in the chair to the right side of the round table. "Torryn, Lindsey and Madison are actually packless werewolves. I found out today when Lindsey came home crying and yelled to Madison that she'd been kidnapped by vampires. She thought I wasn't home." His smile faded, his eyes growing distant. "They managed to do enough damage that she had to go see Raphael." He paused for a moment, then visibly shook himself, and his smile returned in full force. "I helped Madison to calm her down, then I calmed them both down by admitting that I was a telekinetic and that I already knew about werewolves and vampires, and things just…kind of went from there."

Unable to think of any other response, Torryn burst out, "I had no idea it was her. I just came from killing the coven that took her." She jumped when Madison's palm hit the table with a hard smack.

"There's no way you took them out," the girl said angrily. "Lindsey said there were so many of them that she barely got away herself. One person couldn't have killed them all alone."

Without hesitation, Torryn stood and unzipped her hoodie, slipping it down her arms to reveal the gash in her torso, her bloody shirt, and the bite marks on her wrist. "I didn't have time to see Raphael before coming here," she said. "There's a bloody claymore in the trunk of my car if you need more proof."

"You…You used a claymore?" Skylar stammered, aghast. "You're freaking kidding me."

She zipped her hoodie and sat back down, feeling oddly comfortable now that she knew that she wasn't the only freak in the room. "Yeah, it was pretty stupid. Worked out better than the flail, though."

"A flail?" He shook his head, scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Are you trying to destroy every house you go into?"

"Pretty much," she said, chuckling, but her smile faded when she saw Lindsey's frown, directed at Torryn's stomach.

"We can reheat dinner later, if you want to go to Raphael," she said softly, meeting Torryn's gaze, and warmth fluttered through Torryn as she recognized the compassion in the girl's expression.

"Oh, no. Don't worry about it. Please." She watched Skylar as he took her plate and began to dump mashed potatoes onto it for her. "I've been a lot worse off than this."

"She has," Skylar said, returning her plate to its place before her. "I've lost count of how many times she's almost gotten herself killed."

Lindsey's eyes widened. "Really?"

"It was stupid to go after them like that," Madison said flatly, tearing a leg off of the chicken.

Torryn smiled, finally feeling comfortable enough to pick up the bowl of rice. "I must be getting reckless in my old age."

No one remarked, and conversation quickly turned to more normal topics — like Madison and Lindsey's relationship. Not another word was said about vampires or werewolves, and the biggest anomaly of the evening continued to be the lesbians at the table — and really, compared to bloodsuckers and wolf-people, Torryn didn't think that was much of an anomaly at all.

-?-

"We need to do this again sometime!" Lindsey called cheerfully as Torryn crossed the threshold onto the front porch.

Torryn laughed. "Definitely! I hope I get to see you guys again soon."

"Meh," Madison grunted, but the door closed before anything more could be said.

Torryn found Skylar standing on the doorstep with her, his expression lacking all of the warmth it had contained only moments ago. Knowing that something far less pleasant was about to come, she turned from him and started down the stairs, no longer marveling at how well dinner had gone. He followed.

"Why would Raphael ask you to take out a vampire coven for him?" he asked within seconds, and she refused to meet his gaze as they meandered down the walkway together.

"I don't think that's any of your business," she said quietly. They reached the car, but before she could make her way around to the driver's side, Skylar caught hold of her upper arm and whipped her around, shoving her up against the passenger's side door. He rested a hand on the roof of the car to either side of her, his body close enough to block her in, and she looked helplessly up at him.

"What have you been doing for the past two weeks?" he asked bluntly.

"I've been going to class, same as you."

"I'm not stupid, Torryn," he all but growled. "I can tell that something's been going on. I thought it was just something with Antony until you showed up at my house with a bloody claymore in your trunk."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I've been following the occasional lead from Raphael, okay? I don't know if you've noticed, but kicking the shit out of unruly vampires has kind of become my specialty. He's just letting me put it to use."

His eyes narrowed, and his expression nearly crossed the line from rage into disgust as he lifted his lip. "Are you an idiot? How many vampire covens do you think you can run into solo before one of them finally manages to eat you alive? Especially waving around stupid shit like a Goddamn great sword." His voice and visage grew stern. "You're getting reckless, Torryn. Cocky. Arrogant, like that vampire of yours."

"I probably am," she said evenly, though she could feel her fuse growing shorter, "but that's not going to stop me from trying to save people. You heard Lindsey. That coven was collecting teenagers, and they needed to be stopped."

He scowled down at her for a moment longer, then his face relaxed, a sigh slipping out between his lips. "Fine, but be careful, okay? And don't hesitate to call me if you need backup."

She smiled faintly. "All right. But don't tell Antony about this, okay? I'm sure you can imagine just how he'd handle it." He nodded his assent, and for a moment, they were silent, gazing at each other. He didn't step away.

"Have you…been with him since you left?" he asked in a whisper. She could suddenly feel his heat against her, his body much closer than she'd thought, and she swallowed.

"Um, no. Not since then."

He dipped his head, and his lips gently brushed against hers. Guilt flitted through her as Antony filled her mind…but then, she remembered that smirk she'd been seeing for weeks now, all of those times she saw him with other women, and resentment flooded her in its place. She leaned into his kiss, passion seeping into it as she parted her lips, their mouths meeting with slick purpose.

Their tongues met; their lips met and parted and met again roughly.

She'd forgotten how much she'd missed this.

She'd forgotten how much she'd missed him.

-?-

Skylar could feel his heart hammering in his chest, racing alongside his mind, as Torryn responded to his kiss. His body pressed against hers, their lips mingling in a hungry exchange, and he traced her outline with his fingertips until his hands rested on her hips.

He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that she was here, with him, like this…

Somewhat reluctantly, he pulled from her and asked breathlessly, "Do you remember the first time we did…this together? In my car?"

"Yes," she answered, laughing softly. "I remember it very well."

He grinned as he pulled her aside, then jerked the door open and gently guided her into the passenger's seat. He followed her down to rest his knees on the edge of the seat, his smile growing as she laughed, and their lips met again in that same passionate tangle. He remembered his visit to the Lord the night before, remembered the feeling of their tender first time, and he slid a hand along her hip, beneath her shirt, as his kiss grew more frenzied.

She pulled away for the barest of moments. "Shouldn't we be in the backseat?"

He kissed her again, hungrily, and just barely managed to chuckle through it. "In the backseat of this car? Too small." A hand tangling in his hair, she pulled him back to her for a long, sloppy, eager kiss, and his hand left her side to begin fumbling with the button of her jeans. He could hear her voice in his mind, in his memory, raised in moans of pure ecstasy that echoed into every inch of his being…

She drew back suddenly, eyes wide, and asked, "Are you sure this is a good idea?" His hand stilled at her fly, and he frowned, his elation fading, as he waited for the inevitable, "This is a stupid idea, and we shouldn't do it." But she said only, "Won't someone see us out here?"

Relief flooded him, and his hand continued its work. "Our house is the only occupied one on the street," he murmured. "No one ever comes down here."

She pulled him to her again, and the next few seconds passed in a blur of heat and saliva. Her pants were suddenly around her ankles, his own around his knees, but just as he began to pull her panties aside, she leaned back and whispered a quick, airy, "Stop." Confused, he cocked an eyebrow down at her, and she said, "We need a condom."

Panic returned to him once more. "I, uh, I didn't think we'd…I didn't think I'd need…" But his stuttering words faded away as she arched her back, rubbing against him in a way that sent shivers plunging through him. She reached into the storage compartment beneath her, between the seats, and produced a shiny square package, and he arched his other eyebrow. "Why do you…?"

She grinned deviously. "Antony gave me this car, remember?" Without further explanation, she brought her lips to his again, and as her eyes drifted shut, his own gaze drifted toward the condom wrapper as she tore it open.

Antony, he thought bitterly, jealousy rising in him. Why would he want to use one of the condoms that son of a bitch had kept around? He'd probably been planning to use it to bone Skylar's girlfriend, for Christ's sake!

He felt the warmth of her hand around him, a spine-shattering shudder racing through him as her fingers slid slowly down his length, and he felt the condom slide on a moment later. He shouldn't have been hating the vampire, he realized. He should've been thanking him.

Forcing her underwear aside, he guided himself into her, and his eyes eased shut as she moaned softly against his lips.

This was it. It was everything he remembered — every stab of warmth, every tingling of pleasure, every moan and motion that he'd been missing all these weeks. Her hands were on his back, her fingertips pressing into the skin beneath his shirt; his lips left hers to kiss the sweat from her throat. He could smell the faint scent of cotton candy there, a body spray he remembered from weeks past, mixed with the raw scent of her own skin, even more familiar to him — almost painfully so.

He rested one hand on the steering wheel for balance and allowed the other to roam — along her thigh, her hip, her side, her stomach, beneath her bra to her breast. The journey left his hand slick with blood, but he didn't notice — and neither did she, as she pulled his face back to hers for another wet, sloppy kiss. He thought he might've heard a car crunching over the loosened asphalt of the little side street, but he didn't care — and neither did she, as she bent her head to his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, alternately kissing and nipping at his flesh. Just like their first time. Just like the Lord had shown him…

As a surge of ecstasy lanced through him, as he felt himself nearing the edge, he ran his fingers through her hair, savoring its softness for the briefest moment before taking hold of a handful and forcing her lips to his so violently that it stung. But she responded only with a pleasant cry and a hungry kiss, and as his tongue dived into her mouth, he relished the taste of iced tea that still lingered there.

And suddenly, the ledge crumbled from beneath him, and he was sent tumbling headlong into a chasm of bliss — a true bliss that the Lord could never recreate for him. He felt himself go rigid, heard his own groaning gasp, but her soft cry was foremost in his mind, the warmth of her hands on his stomach beneath his shirt the only sensation he truly felt through the haze of ecstasy.

And then, he let his body fall to rest atop hers, panting, his knees resting on the sliver of floor beside the seat.

His ear pressed to her chest, he listened to the soft thrumming of her heartbeat, the beat of a heart that had once belonged to him — and may belong to me again. He let his eyes drift shut as the tempo began to slow, but he forced them open again when she gently tapped his back. "Mm?" he grunted in question, eyes half lidded, but he didn't lift his head to look at her. He wanted to savor this for a moment longer.

"You're on the side of the street with your naked ass in the air," she murmured, and he enjoyed the vibrations as the words rumbled through her chest and into his cheek. "I think you might want to get up and put your pants back on."

He grinned lazily and pushed himself off of her and to his feet, but his smile instantly vanished when he saw her down-turned face, the set of her jaw, the regret in her eyes. She popped the glove box open with a slow pull of the handle, and she took out a couple of plain white napkins. She wouldn't meet his gaze.

Without saying a word, waiting for her to speak, he took an empty grocery bag from the floor of the car and tossed the used condom inside. He'd thought that the true bliss of the reality would be better than the half bliss of the relived moment, but he wasn't so sure anymore.

At least he knew how the memories ended.

He settled his jeans back into place at his hips and zipped them, then, tentatively, he let a hand rest on her bare thigh, and only now did she meet his eyes. "I don't think this was a good idea," she said softly, and his gut clenched like she'd just punched him in the stomach with every bit of her freakish strength. "It's…I…" She shook her head and stood in a hurry, tossing the sticky napkins into the bag he still held with unnecessary force before pulling her pants up. "I'm sorry. I have to go." She turned from him, buttoning her jeans, and slammed the door. She was jerking the driver's side door open by the time he managed to speak.

"Uh, yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was…nice seeing you."

She shut her door, started the car, and took off down the street, all in the span of a few seconds. He clenched the trash-filled bag in a painfully tight grip as he watched her taillights fade into the distance.

"Yeah," he whispered to himself. "Nice seeing you."