Louder than ever, help me remember.

My face is buried in my hands, a wasted effort, because I still see Alex's lifeless body in Sailix's arms. The image seems burned into my retinas, haunting me without respite. From the other side of the car, I hear his voice, unsteady but existent as he speaks in a low tone to Troy. The sound should comfort me. Assuage me. He's alive. He's alive. But at what cost? Dragging my hands away from my eyes, I look over to Sailix leaning against the hood of Troy's car, his expression almost shell-shocked. The mauled side of his face is turned towards me, reminding me how close to losing it I came. Out loud, I laugh at my own use of past tense, the brief sound quickly turning to a quiet sob.

He saved Alex when you didn't. When you you couldn't. When you wouldn't.
Wouldn't?! He didn't want me to! He didn't want my blood. Didn't want me to turn him.
Haven't you proven that was the better choice on his part?

I clamp my hand over my mouth, fighting down the scream that wants to tear from my throat. A scream that seems to be echoed in my thoughts, the tone contrasted with my own. There was never a worse time to leave Alex, but I've never needed to more. There's too much, and I can't. I have to get this out of me, before I hurt someone else that I love. Sailix is still lost in his own thoughts, and I'm grateful for his distraction. Alex stands a distance away, bloodied, burned, but alive. Troy holds his attention and I make myself fade from sight before I grow too weak to walk away from them.

Walk away. Ha.

I move North, ignoring the smack and snap of branches against my skin as I run through the woods. I'm thankful that my feet know the way, as my eyes are too blurred with red to see clearly. My own home and its current inhabitant call to me as I pass near. I drag myself further, to a ramshackle home hidden in a grove of trees. Slowing my pace as I approach the building, I wipe my eyes and climb the stairs to the front door. There's no sound from within, even as I turn the tarnished handle and enter, breathing in deeply through my nose. His scent is still potent, so much like mine.

He's still here. Well, of course! Where is he gonna go? He's young, and fresh, and nowhere near as strong as his Sire.

I shiver slightly, covering my mouth as if I said the words aloud. I make my way through the kitchen, down into the black, damp basement. The gun safe is still there, untouched and unopened. Standing in front of it, my eyes are wide, mouth still covered by my fingertips. My mind goes blank, and for a moment I'm unable to remember the young man's name. I recall leaving Alex before Elysium last night, him not even questioning my plans to go feed. Stealing a car. Driving to the nearest shopping mall. It was late enough so that the stores were closing, but not so late that employees weren't taking a quick smoke break in an empty service entrance. He was outside, alone, looking barely old enough to buy cigarettes. All spikes and piercings and a half shaved head. Almost pretty. If I wasn't about to be breaking my own moral code, I'd laugh at the cliche of it. Now, what was his name? Something biblical...

"Noah. That's it, right?"
There's no reply from the other side of the door. I frown slightly, wondering if I didn't mess this up somehow, if I'm going to open the safe door to a pile of ash or a corpse. I lightly rap my knuckles on the steel and hear a shuffle of movement from inside. My frown grows deeper, and I speak directly towards the thin crack of the door. "Are you purposely ignoring me? That's so...do you have any idea the kind of night I've been having?!" Punching a number into the keypad, I spin the handle and swing the door open. I can't help but let out an expectant laugh as the day old vampire comes careening out of the safe. His fist catches my jaw, following a glancing blow across my cheek. I quickly catch him by the scruff of the neck, holding him steady like a misbehaving puppy. He struggles, but his strength can't compare to mine. After a moment he stills, staring at me, his expression terrified. I feel a conflicting mixture of shame and pride, holding the boy before me. "Hey, sorry about laughing. It's rude, but I really didn't expect you to take after me this much." His lip quivers, and I feel his emotions as deeply as my own. I release my grip on his neck, holding both my hands out, palms forward, in a sign of pacifism. "It's ok, Noah. You can talk."

His voice is deep, mismatching his pretty looks. "Who are you? What did you do to me?" He rubs at his face in yet another familiar gesture. "I'm so hungry, and my head is so...noisy."
I smile in what I think is a comforting way, ignoring how he flinches away from me. Again, his fear and confusion are almost palpable."That's a thing. Comes with the territory....could you stop that?" He starts to speak, but the overwhelming emotion coming from him seems to fill both my thoughts and my ears. "...stop.." I mumble, my hand lashing out and knocking Noah to the ground. He cowers, which makes me more angry. "Stop! You're supposed to be strong! Like me!" I swing my foot into his ribs. To my astonishment, he chuckles through what sounds like a punctured lung.
"You're not strong. Didn't you come here because.." I feel him rifling through my thoughts. "..because you're worried about your boyfriend?!"
I cut off the link between our minds, stomping my boot down on his gut. His laughter turns into a groan of pain as he rolls onto his side. "You were supposed to fix this! You were supposed to fix him! That was the plan...I'd make you and hand you over and Alex could be OK again." 
Covering my face, I almost miss Noah as he lurches to his feet and attempts to escape me. My fingers grip into his shoulder, nails digging in as I push him towards the safe. He glances into it's depths, before turning to me and begging. "No...please don't make me...please don't put me back in there!" I look away from him, hiding the guilt in my expression as I shove him back into his personal prison.

The slam of the safe door muffles Noah's pained shrieks, but only fractionally. I press my forehead against the cold steel, squeezing my eyes shut. "Shhh. Shhh. It's OK. It'll get better. It gets better."
My palms hit the door, shaking the safe. I hear the boy hit the inside wall, desperate for escape. But his screams are no comfort to me. "No! No! It doesn't...it doesn't get better. Why didn't it? Why didn't it help me, Noah? I can't...I can't.." There's no reply other than muffled sobbing that echoes my own. I fall to the ground, curled in a ball in front of the safe. There's nothing. No comfort. I led the people I loved into danger. I attacked my best friend. Alex almost died. Alex did die. Alex is alive, and breathing, and living, and I can't...

My thoughts reach out to a close and familiar mind. The one I've wanted most, and avoided just as much."Please. Please, Tommy. I need you. I need you now. Please."
Waiting for either Tommy's response or refusal, I remain curled, groveling on the ground, my own cries drowning out those of my childer locked in the safe.


https://youtu.be/qnEFQ5r1nBM

Waking up good morning to you, my dear. I'm waking up enduring my biggest fear.

The clatter of something hitting the ground jars me out of whatever fugue I fell into. On the floor next to me is the fallen X-Box controller. On the tv screen some armored up cat creature is getting mauled by a walrus looking thing. I glance behind me at Alex. He's sprawled out, eyes closed, hand dangling off the edge of the futon. Rubbing my own eyes, I check the time on one of the lit up computer screens in the room. It's about an hour until dawn, and he's already fast asleep. Grabbing the controller, I rise to my feet, placing it on a table and turning the console and tv off. As gently as I can manage, I move Alex's hand, so it's resting next to him. He rolls onto his back, mumbling something about tacos, and I smile. Staring down at him, the small smile on my lips fades as I notice his deep, steady breathing. A pulse beats against the the fragile skin of his throat, seeming to permeate the bedroom with the sweet, warm smell of his blood. Glancing at the clock again, I breathe in lightly, swallowing hard and moving quickly and silently from the room.

My head clears slightly as I creep outside. A full moon hangs fat and bright in the sky, illuminating the sprawling fairgrounds. Catching a stray whiff of cigarette smoke and overbearing cologne, I briskly make my way to the other side of the building, not wanting to run into the french boy. Almost shamed at my own cowardice, I take refuge by one of the outhouses, ignoring the chemical stink and plunking down to sit against the splintered wood. The ground is still soft from the previous night's storms, and I idly poke my fingers into the damp soil. A patch of clouds pass over the moon, darkening the grounds. My thoughts seem to take a similar turn, as a swirl of voices echo in my ears.

They're going to come after you...
...you'll be the death of him...
....nothing but a monster.
...wrong to trust you...
He doesn't care...

Squeezing my temples between my palms, I bite down a sob.

I can't break down again. It was too close last night, too dangerous. I have to be strong for them. Alex, Tommy, Sailix, Pyotr. Hell, even Snack Pack. They're mine. They're my responsibility. But they're safe right now. They are. 

Exhaling shakily, I turn my gaze out to the woods, feeling a soft pull in my blood that urges me North towards my own home. Struggling to ignore the sudden yearning, I rise to my feet and shake my head in a vain attempt to unmuddle it. The sky is lightening just enough for a keen eye to notice, and I follow Lumiere's trail of odor back into the building. Reentering Alex and I's room, I'm relieved that the scent of Alex's blood is no longer as overwhelming. He's still in the same position, but his sleeping expression seems uneasy, as if even in slumber he noticed my absence. Pausing only long enough to kick my boots off, I climb onto the mattress next to him and curl against his body.
"I love you Alex, by never in my life will I ever deserve you."
Resting my head on his chest, I close my eyes and let the rise and fall of his chest lull me to sleep.

https://youtu.be/kHg_XwPuY2E

Wear the grudge like a crown, desperate to control. Unable to forgive and sinking deper.

I curse loudly, as another bobby pin falls from the stylishly messy pile of pink curls crowing my head. The small metal pin bounces out of sight, and a stray strand of hair falls over my face. Without use of a mirror, this whole attempt is going nowhere, fast. My vision blurs a faint red, and I fight back the tears of frustration.

It's supposed to be a happy night, and I'm supposed to be glowy, and excited, and oh fuck I can't mess up my makeup.

A few deep and needless breaths calm me enough to make another effort at my hair. Overwhelming relief fills me, as a familiar scent and a pair of velvet gloved hands come into my view. "Let me help you, dear. Your impatience has gotten the best of you." The Toreador's fingers work deftly in my hair, with a finesse that I could never grasp.
"Thanks, Miss Lucy. I was trying to...y'know. Just trying to do something for myself."
Lucy comes around into my view, hands still in my hair. She smiles, her expression kind. "Of course, but don't you worry about that. It's your big day, and you don't want to miss your big entrance." She finishes with my hair, and gives me a scrupulous once over, adjusting my jewelry, the hem of my dress, wiping at the corner of my eye with her thumb. I watch her inspection until my nerves get the best of me. Glancing down, I barely recognize myself. My body is swathed in white silk and lace, the train of the dress belled out behind me. A simple diamond pendant hangs from my throat, between my breasts. It's uncomfortably different from the black, plaid and fishnet I'm usually adorned in. I look back up to Lucy, anxious for her opinion.
"Well, how do I look? I can't really look for myself..."

Before she can answer, a deep rumble of a voice answers, the tone thick with accent.
"You are beautiful, my daughter." Pyotr, in his penguin suit, bends down to kiss Lucy on the cheek. The Russian towers over me, taking both of my hands in his. I rise up on my toes, as he bends once more, to kiss my forehead. "I could not be more proud to give you away, Madelyn."
I rub at my face, before a bouquet of pink flowers are pressed in my hands. The shades are all different, either matching or accenting my hair. I give a tentative smile, squeezing the flower stems as Lucy pats my shoulder and exits the room. Shortly after, I hear a tune start up from down the hall. Familiar enough, to be heard in every corny romance movie I've ever seen. "Oh. Oh god. Is that...is that our cue? Is it time? Oh god."
Chucking under his breath, Pyotr places my right hand in the crook of his left arm, the height difference almost comical. "Relax, child." he states simply, leading me out of the room. He's tactful enough to ignore my trembling, and the death grip I have on his arm. The music grows louder as we approach a set of intricately carved wooden doors, and when they are pulled open into the night air.

There must be hundreds of faces staring at us. Pale as the moonlight, paler still under the twinkling string lights that are hanging from what looks like every immobile object in the vicinity. The warm air smells of Kindred, of woods, and of fragrant flora. The path cut between the seats is littered with pink petals, and my feet drag nervously as Pyotr leads me through the crowd. I glance back and forth at the familiar faces between steps down the aisle. The Gangrel are packed together to my left: Troy, Munin, Mason, Sutherland, Ylva, Magnus, Siobhan. My brittle smile seems more natural as fanged grins and glowing eyes set on me. I spot other faces dotted among the crowd. Grendel, Franco, Blair, Cyrus, Testament, Rictus. At the far end of one of the rows, a figure stands apart, seemingly unnoticed. His long, black hair is pulled back, exposing dark eyes and Spanish features. Tybalt. I glance up at Pyotr, knowing the Brujah sees him, too. Tybalt's expression is one of pride, and his smile is genuine as he bows his head to me, giving me his blessing. I press my hand to my lips briefly, and ignoring the few perplexed faces, blow a kiss to my dearest, departed friend. He disappears from view, and only now, my attention draws to the altar and people around it that Pyotr and I are quickly approaching.

On one side of the altar, is a surly looking dhampir, clutching a small bouquet. Fate catches my eye, gesturing to the pale pink bridesmaid gown she's wearing, and makes a disgusted face. I grin widely, and she rolls her eyes, quickly returning the grin. At the opposite side is Sailix, looking dapper in a tuxedo. He wiggles his eyebrows at me and winks as I shake my head, snickering quietly. From behind the altar, stands Tommy, adorned in solid black suit and his Roman collar. He smiles, but his hazel eyes meet mine in an almost somber manner. Some of my joy seems to plateau, as I see the unmistakable sign of sorrow and sadness churning in his aura. He clutches a small bible to his chest, and for the first time since meeting him over a decade ago, the priest drops his gaze from my own, staring out into the crowd with the forced smile on his face. I have no time for pity, as my momentum is halted by Pyotr's lack of movement.

I realize we've reached our destination, and feel Pyotr taking my hand and placing it in another. The other hand is soft, and warm, and wholly familiar. I step forward, turning my full attention to the man before me. My love. My Alex. My soon to be husband. He is polished and handsome in his suit, his dark hair smoothed back from his face. We stand there, almost awkwardly, absorbing the situation, the surroundings, and each other. My smile returns, natural and practically ecstatic. He stares at me with a sense of awe, and neither of us are truly attentive as Tommy's voice begins droning on with a speech, and vows we repeat with eyes only for each other. Fate's shadow arms present us with our wedding rings. Alex slips the band around my finger, his voice quiet, but likely heard among supernaturally acute ears. "...you look really cute, tonight."

In a bland, yet purposeful tone, Tommy states:
"If anyone here objects to this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
In what seems to be deafening silence, I feel a pull inside of me, as if in my blood, itself. I know that if I take my eyes from Alex, in that moment, I will ruin something wonderful. I hold his hand a little tighter, remembering meeting Alex in Tybalt's neighborhood for the first time. Remembering our sly escape to the roof, during the mini Cam party. Remembering our first kiss. I don't wait for Tommy's conclusion of the ceremony. I lean forward eagerly, pressing my lips to Alex's, wrapping my arms around him and sealing my bond to him for the rest of eternity. The surrounding crowd of our peers hoot and holler, wolf whistling as Alex and I are intertwined in each others arms and lips. Pulling apart, I hear Pyotr clearing his throat purposefully, and I grin as Alex's cheeks turn pink. Holding hands, we pass together through the aisle, absorbed in each other's affection as Kindred around us clap and cheer.

The reception is a blur of music and revelry. My head spins as I'm passed from person to person, spinning and twirling and dancing. Fate requests a Good Charlotte song, and we collapse on each other, cackling madly. Catching a moment alone, I hang back to the edge of the dance floor, surveying the scene. Alex is chatting with Troy and Lumiere, his cheeks flushed, his expression relaxed. The dance floor is still full, and I chuckle to myself as Sailix spills his beer, spreading it across the floor as he shuffles to the music. The song changes to something slow and soulful, and a pair of strong hands turn me and pull me close. I look up at Tommy, unsurprised, as he sways us to the beat. "Was wondering when you would cut in..." He ignores my comment, one hand resting familiarly on my hip, the other at the back of my neck. Despite his calm demeanor, his posture is possessive, even as he expertly glides us across the floor. My brow furrows as I stare up at him. "Are you upset with me, Tommy?"
He strokes his thumb along the back of my neck affectionately, but his response is somewhat curt.
"Of course not, little one." I frown, my expression still displeased. He sighs lightly, and pulls me closer. "I worry for you and the boy. I know how my little girl can be, and I fear that you will quickly derail your storybook ending."

My chance to reply is cut short, as I'm roughly pulled from Tommy's arms. I turn to stare into Alex's angered expression. "Really, Madelyn? At our wedding?" I try to take Alex's hand, but he slaps mine away. "I'm tired of this shit. I'm tired of this bastard sticking himself between us all the time." Tommy stands before us, seemingly unconcerned, even as Alex pulls a Desert Eagle from the inside of his suit coat.
"Alex, no! What the hell are you doing!?" I reach to grab the gun from him, but pull my hand away as he points it at the priest. Tommy raises his hands, palms out in supplication. Before I can act, Alex pulls the trigger, shooting Tommy point blank in the chest. The smell of singed fabric and blood stings my nose, and I cry out as Alex continues to shoot. Tommy falls to the ground, bleeding and burning, and his hazel eyes meet mine as Alex's final shot turns him to ash. I stare at the pile, my hands covering my mouth and my widened eyes filling with tears. Turning to Alex, my voice is high pitched and frantic. "You killed him! How could you...oh god...Tommy." I make a move towards him, but fall back as Alex whips the gun across my jaw, opening a gash on my cheek. Blood pours from the wound, trailing down my neck and spreading a red stain along the bodice of my dress. Holding my hand to my jaw, I stare, incredulous, as he reloads the weapon and points it directly at me. Anger and pain are prominent in his expression, and I can't help but drop my gaze. Sparing a glance to the pile of Tommy's ashes, I spread my arms, offering my chest as a bare and unprotected target. I don't look up, and barely even notice as Alex's bullets tear into me, finally ending the tumultuous excuse of my life.

This is what I've deserved, all along.

As is almost habit by now, I jerk out of the nightmare, my muscles tense and my face sticky with tears. Alex remains asleep, his chest rising and falling as he lightly snores. His body is warm and inviting, but the dream lingers in my subconscious, filling my thoughts with his expression of fury. His raised voice and the angry words his spat at me earlier in the night echoes in my ears. Despite my overwhelming need for comfort, I move away from him, closer to the edge of the futon. Rolling over onto my side, I pull my knees up, hugging them lightly, and wait for my return to sleep and whatever dreams may come.

https://youtu.be/EiR1hmpk-x4