Orphans Two [Mackinnley]

[Laura Gould (DELETED 5747)]

A hiccup sounded in Laura’s chest. She stood there with her hands curled into Mackinnley’s chest, her fingers bent in fists around clumps of his shirt. For a moment she distracted herself; when was the last time she’d really hugged another person? When was the last time that she’d been held like this? The answer was some far-flung number. Some point in her childhood, maybe, curled up with her father on the couch. Sure, she’d had that crush not too long ago – that chef, who gave a hug to die for. But the crush was one-sided and he hugged her the same way he hugged everyone else. It meant nothing to him, even if she always wanted to hold on just that one second longer.

It was nothing like this hug. This, where she thought she could feel the legitimate concern and care seeping from the man who had his arms around her, filtering into her body to calm her down. Her body was trembling, but the longer she stood there with her eyes screwed tightly shut, focusing only on the feel of Mackinnley’s fingers as they soothed the strands of her hair, the quieter the tremors got. Were they far enough away from the man they’d left unconscious on the curb? Would they be chased? They had to get indoors, and Laura had to focus.

She tugged at the lapels of the jacket that he draped over her shoulders; she pulled the larger garment tight around her smaller torso, hugging it as the poor substitute for the man who’d pulled back. Even if his arm remained over her shoulders, it wasn’t the same. Like an Emu burying its head in the sand to escape danger, Laura wanted to do the same. Except she wouldn’t bury her head in the sand. She wanted to bury her head against Mackinnley’s chest and stay there, curled into a body that was not her own. She’d had the urge before, of course she had. It was only human to crave the touch and protection of others. It was only human to want, at some point, the nearness of another body. An experience that Laura had never had the chance to fulfil.

Where was home? She closed her eyes, though her feet still kept rhythm, thumping the pavement in time with Mackinnley’s. They had got off the train at Westwall. That was the station they had run from; her hasty retreat had taken them past Hammer and Tongs pub, as if her feet already knew where they wanted to go. And now she knew that’s what she had done. Her subconscious had switched on. Ever wonder how drunk people make it home even though they remember nothing else about their night? There had to be a map etched into their body. A memory that lived in their limbs. They would always know how to get home. Instinctively, they knew how to get to the safe place that they called their own. They were beating a track over the bridge that led toward Gullsborough.

“I usually get off at Gullsborough station,” she said. She pulled them along a little faster. The buildings were looking familiar, even they looked different in the darkness. Not just because it was dark, but because she seemed to be able to see them all so much clearer than she ever could in the day time. It put her off. It scared her. She sucked in a breath and held it, as her eyes dropped back to the ground, glancing up every now and again only to make sure they were still heading in the right direction.

The soft sound of water lapping against rock could be heard to their left; they were walking along a shorter section of the river, the railing all the kept them from the cold, cold water. It wasn’t frozen yet, but it would be soon. Laura shuddered, as she imagined the cold darkness underneath the forming ice. She felt like she could sink and die, freeze and flail with silent screams. But she wouldn’t, because she had Mackinnley by her side. She huddled in closer against the redhead and tried to regain the trail of her thoughts. Home. She had to lead them home. Her shoes scuffed on the pavement as she rounded a corner, and the river was left behind.

Although it was mainly corporate and commercial buildings hereabout, Laura lived above a row of businesses. Old warehouses that had been done up; directly beneath Laura was a florist. Next door to the florist was an Accountants. The woman who’d owned the florist was a great Aunt – she’d passed away, and somehow or other Laura had ended up with the apartment- not for free. She was still paying it off. The current owner of the florist wasn’t interested in it.

“It’s not too far,” she said to Mackinnley. He’d said they could talk about everything in the morning, and that was what Laura wanted to do. She didn’t mention anything. Although every now and again a violent shudder wracked her body, she tried to think of other things. Or of nothing at all. But all the while, her pace only quickened – not nearing the run she had broken into earlier, but a clipped pace nonetheless.

[Mackinnley (DELETED 5761)]

He could feel her relax under his arm...or relax as much as she could. He tightened his hold around her shoulders, pulling her closer into his side. She was cold; he wanted to keep her warm. It was the only solution he could think of at the moment. It was a reflection of who he was as a person. He always stepped up to take care of someone. His role circled around him being the level headed one. Mr. Fix-It. Mr. Simple Solutions. It was a role he was comfortable with because he just had to be strong. Or appear strong. Some would think that was hard, but for Mac, he was a natural. It was his best role. It would always be his best role.

He didn't want to think about how scared he felt at the very moment. He didn't know exactly what he was protecting Laura from. Him? Herself? They just left man with what little life he had left in him. What life they hadn't sucked dry from the very veins beneath his skin. The place of his veins were identical to both the redhead and the blonde. They had drained the life from a fellow human being. Hell, could they even call themselves human beings anymore? He didn't know any human beings that attack people without a second thought. Without reason. He sure as hell didn't know any human beings who would bite down on someone's neck and drink their blood. Not one of his friends were doing things like that. The only people he could think of who would do that were infamous serial killers.

Last time he checked, he wasn't a crazed serial killer. He didn't have bodies piling up in his backyard or under his window. So what had brought it on?

But of course, he didn't want to think about that. No, he just wanted to go back to Laura's place. He wanted to lay in her bed and wrap his arms around her. He wanted her close to his body so he could rest his chin on top of her head. So he could enjoy the softness of her skin and hair, while breathing in her scent. He hoped even when he got his jacket back it would smell like her.

It was perfectly normal to cling to someone after a life changing event, right? Especially if you were clinging onto the one who experienced it with you, yes? Because there wasn't going to be anyone he could talk to about this but Laura. He couldn't tell people he drunk someone's blood. No, not if he wanted to find himself locked up in a pysch ward.

God. There was just so many thoughts running in his head. Yet, he kept his stoic features plastered on his face. There was no need to show his frightfulness and his discomfort in the situation. The blonde had been through enough this evening and seemed to be barely hanging on by a thread. And if he could keep her from completely losing it, that's exactly what he was going to do.

His feet matched hers step for step. He didn't say much because, really, what was there to say? All the could be heard was the scuffing of Laura's shoes against the pavement. His own was silently as if he was floating along beside her. He always been light on his feet most claimed. His eyes just soaked in the scenery. He didn't come to this area too often. Hell, this place wasn't even his radar until he came to get her this evening. he stuck to his own district, where he was comfortable, safe, and secure. The only time he ventured out was when he had to check up on Liam at HRU in Newsborough. Or when he had to go to the hospital because he broke two fingers while he was working at the docks. But this area was as unfamiliar to him as it had been when the evening first started.

It was quite eerie once he further thought about it. Their evening was coming full circle. The evening's events were put into motion to minute he knocked on the door. He had no clue how the evening was going to go. The redhead could only remember his heart beating so hard and fast, he swore he could feel it in his throat. Now as his steps quickened in order not to slow them down as a pair, he desired nothing more for his heart to be beating. He desired nothing more for his heart to be beating as hard and as fast. Because he had been alive upon his arrival to Laura's apartment. Yet, here he was. A dead man walking. Quite literally.

He knew he was dead. He knew they were dead. The thought picked and prodded the back of his mind.

"Oh..Now everything is looking familiar..." he finally whispered, " I wasn't paying attention to the scenery much when I came to get you...for the date. But now, it's starting to ring a bell." And it looked a whole lot clearer than it should in the dark.

[Laura Gould (DELETED 5747)]

Laura thought she should reply, but the words stuck in her throat. All she could manage was a nod. Mackinnley was speaking to her as if there was nothing wrong, and she appreciated it; the light gloss of his words as he commented upon their surroundings. A topic as mundane as the weather or the hockey game last week. Last week already seemed like an eternity ago, just like the beginning of the night. When he’d knocked on the door she’d just finished tucking the last strands of her hair into the style she’d selected; a messy pony tail, a light scarf tied into her hair to create a nice bow on top, her fringe slightly curled just out of her line of sight, pinned so as not to irritate her throughout the evening.

Distractedly, she lifted her hand to her head; the scarf was no longer there. Her hair was out of his pony tail. And she couldn’t remember any of the events that had led to her particular state of disarray. She wanted to look at herself in the mirror; maybe if she could do that, she might be able to look into her own eyes to find the answers that she had thus far missed. There was something about looking at oneself in the mirror. It never did yield any answers about illness or wellness, but one did it anyway. Out of habit.

Laura’s hand dropped to her mouth, the back of her palm rubbing at her lips. As much as she tried to forget, she couldn’t. Surely Mackinnley would have told her if she’d had blood smeared anywhere it shouldn’t have been. He would have removed it. But she rubs anyway, just in case. She swallows hard and glances upward. A chill ran through her, and a smile came unbidden to her lips. When she laughed, it wasn’t because she found what Mackinnley had said to be funny. But, well…

“Date,” she said, almost bitterly. She wanted it to be perfect, and it had been going so well. Bits and pieces were coming back to her now. Would her memory continue to return, until she knew what had happened after they’d left the restaurant? Did she want to know? Her mind rebelled against the idea, even though her subconscious knew it was a necessity. She’d remembered getting up to go to the bathroom; the look in her face when she’d stared at herself in the mirror was not one she’d worn in a while. A girlish giddiness was painted upon her features; a nervous glow permeated her cheeks, and there was a timid smile on her lips. Maybe this is the one, she’d thought. She wasn’t thinking about marriage and eternity. No, her thoughts were more close to home, focused more on earthly pleasures than immaterial bonds.

Now, she wasn’t thinking about sex, and what it might be like to lose her virginity to this man – because he was a man, right to his core. Now, all she could think about was getting home and under the covers, fully dressed – to collapse and curl into the foetal position. The only physical attention she hoped for was his body next to hers, like a protective layer against whatever had happened to them on their date.

She glanced up at her companion, her eyes wide, and she frowned. She didn’t want to tell him it was the worst date ever, because it hadn’t been. Not in the beginning. She shook her head, and whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips. They’d reached the step that led up to the footpath which in turn led to the door of her apartment building. It was a door that lead through to a narrow hallway between shops, with stairs beyond. There was a row of four letter boxes just inside the door; the front door, which had no security. There was a fire hydrant box, and Laura bend down to retrieve the small key she’d stuck to the bottom of it. Hers wasn’t the only key there – she knew all her neighbours, and they all trusted each other. It was a good neighbourhood, all in all. She used her small key to open her letter box. Inside of her letterbox was another key. Her apartment key. She’d lost her bag, and her main key along with it.

The blood she’d taken from the unwilling human had previously flushed her cheeks, but now it blanched. Her hand shook as she held the key, and she turned her entire body to Mackinnley. The green of her eyes was anxious as she looked up at him.

“Kinney, what if they followed us? What if they have my bag, and my key? Do you think they can get to us here?” she asked, her voice trembling. She wanted to be safe in her own home. She wanted them to be safe in her home. But what if they weren’t?

[Mackinnley (DELETED 5761)]

Date. He could almost feel the bitterness flinging off the word itself after she spoke it. She had every right to feel that way. The evening had started to innocent. The actual date had been perfect. It was if it had been a scene from a romantic comedy or something. More like the last scene or something, when the girl and the guy finally ended up with each other after experiencing a bunch of let downs. At least he had experienced a bunch of letdowns before this evening. Most of the women he encountered, when he did encounter them, only wanted one thing from him. Casually dating wasn't a normal things anymore. Nowadays, it was okay to have casual sex partners. But Mac wasn't the kind of kind to do casual sex. Sex meant something totally different to him than it did to others now. He had seen how in love his parents were with each other. He wanted to experience that himself. To know such feeling and he had hoped this date had opened up the opportunity for him.

Alas, fate had a different plan from the very beginning. God, he hated fate right now. But he really hated the person who did this to them. Now, Laura was stuck with him, not because the date had blown her mind. But because now, he was the only one who understood what she was going through. She did understood what he was going through. This wasn't going to be something they could get through by themselves. No, they needed each other. He wished the circumstances were different.

His nose wrinkled a little as he shoved his hands into his pockets, sighing softly. What a night.

The redhead followed the blonde's lead, eyes taking in the scenery once more. It did look different from earlier in the evening. Much brighter. He could make out the details of every piece of objects they encountered. Even the stairs looked different. He was no more away of the faint scratches on each step. Each looked different from the other. Each had a story to tell of their own. His shoulders dropped.

He stood behind Laura, awaiting for her to unlock her door once she retrieved the spare key from her mail box. But the moment didn't come. Instead. she turned around to face him. The look in her eyes said everything; she was scared. He couldn't say it enough to himself because it rang true each time. She had every right to be scared and her questions were legitimate questions.

" I don't know, Laura," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

" I don't know. I mean, if they wanted to get us, they had plenty of opportunities. I would think they would expect us to go to the hospital or even the police station. I don't think they would be dumb enough to come to your place," he explained, giving it further thought.

He sighed softly," I'll keep watch. Just to make sure we're safe. You don't have anything worry about. Just need to rest so we can get everything figured out in the morning." His hand reached out to give her bicep a light squeeze.

[Laura Gould (DELETED 5747)]

Laura was only mildly comforted. Someone was ******* with them. Would they really be out to kill them? Laura was close to hyperventilating again, her eyes rolling out to assess the street through the glass and grilled front door. She and Kinney had drunk blood from another living breathing person. Had dug their teeth into that poor man’s neck and had enjoyed it. At least, Laura had enjoyed it, and she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she had enjoyed it. Even now, as she watched another lone person pass by the front door, she could feel her mouth watering. She swallowed, hard.

The girl was near a panic, because of course the cops wouldn’t believe that, and the hospitals? Would be more likely to lock them up than help, at this juncture. Whoever had done this to them would have to know that, wouldn’t they? If they had followed, if they knew where Laura lived – and they would, if they had her wallet and her personal belongings – what’s to stop them from coming here to take back their victims? What’s to stop them from coming here to **** with them some more?

Laura continued to swallow, only slightly calming down when she felt Kinney’s hand against her arm. She wanted to collapse. At that moment, she realised she was far too exhausted to do anything about her fears. They would remain, lingering in the back of her mind but there was nothing she could do about them, because what else was there to do? She didn’t want to go to a friend’s place, because that would require explanations that she wasn’t ready to give. The police, probably. Questioning. And she didn’t have her wallet, so she couldn’t pay for somewhere else to stay. And so she vaguely nodded, and began to lead the way up the stairs.

The apartment was only on the second floor. It looked out on the street. There was a window that opened up to a small ledge garden, but in this weather, the window remained tightly closed. The space looked a lot like it should, with a single female in residence. The cat immediately started to tangle itself around Laura’s ankles, and she quietly crouched down to pick the creature up. To hold the small purring parcel to her chest, revelling in the warmth and comfort the pet could provide. The cat wriggled, but Laura wouldn’t let it go.

"This is Saatchi,” she mumbled, introducing the cat to Mackinnley, trusting that the taller male would close the door behind them. And deadbolt it. Laura flicked on the light near the front door out of habit, but immediately cringed and flicked the thing back off again.

Habit would dictate that she’d turn on the heater, which she did. Habit would have had her meandering toward the shower to wash off her make-up, to get dressed into her pyjamas – which consisted of overly large t-shirts and underwear. But not tonight. Even though she felt gross, and she felt as if she wanted to stand under the hot blast of the shower, she couldn’t. She was home. And, suddenly home, she felt deflated. The adrenaline left her system in a rush and she instead found herself shuffling, cat in her arms, toward the bed. The bed that could be cordoned off with the curtain, but the curtain was all bunched up with a large cord by the wall. There was a small step up to where the bed was, and Laura made sure not to trip over it.

It was a bit of a mess, the apartment. Not unsightly. There were magazines sprawled over the dining room table. The flowers in the vase, there, were half dead and the water was in dire need of changing. There was a bra hanging over the back of the couch, and an empty coke can on the coffee table, as well as a rolled over packet of crisps. There were a few rinsed plates in the sink. Odds and ends were gathered at the end of the kitchen bench – hair ribbons, bobby pins, different items of jewellery, unopened (and opened) mail.

But Laura walked past it all and crawled onto the bed. She curled up around Saatchi. The cat was still purring, but it was obvious she just wanted fresh biscuits. It didn’t take long for her to escape Laura’s grasp, and Laura was left to reach across the blankets beseechingly.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked Mackinnley, finally turning her eyes to the ginger male. “Drinking that man’s blood,” she added, quietly, in a guilty whisper. “Did you enjoy it?”

[Mackinnley (DELETED 5761)]

Probably should have lied, he thought.

In the moment, 'I don't know' seemed like a better option than to lie. He didn't know. They very well could come to her apartment looking for the pair. He didn't know. Who was to say their kidnapper or kidnappers hadn't already checked the hospital and the police station in search for them? Who's to say they weren't above retrieving them from the safety of Laura's home? Nothing. Nothing at all. He simply didn't know and that was that. No point of lying to the girl if he didn't have to. They were in the same boat. He didn't want to lie to himself. God, he wish he could in this very situation. It was awkward. It was an unlikely daily occurrence they were experiencing together. It was a situation he, one, had no control over, and two, he's never thought could even happen.

Mac frowned in his thoughts. What a horrible night this turned out to be.

The redhead was unsure as to what to expect when Laura opened the door of her apartment. A part of him prepared himself to be attacked by the people who took them. But when nothing but a cat came to great them, his shoulders dropped the tension. Slowly, he crept inside as he eyed the four legged furry beast. He fought back the snarl forming on his lips. God, how he hated cats. He had been a dog kind of man since his birth. But this was Laura's cat and for the reason, he was going to respectful. For now. His left hand reached back slightly to catch the open door, gently pushing it until it closed. Mac pivoted to face the only entrance and exit present. He bolted the door.

"Nice cat, " he finally whispered, eying Saatchi while making sure not to disturb him as he passed him to follow the blond. He hadn't been past the door when he came to pick up Laura. The minute he knocked on the door, she was walking out with her purse.

But venturing further, he couldn't help but be washed over by the warmth. It felt like a home. He didn't care things were out of place or if undergarments were making known their presence in the apartment. He didn't care though. It reminded him of his own home.

Mac continued to give himself a little tour of the place before he dropped down on the edge of the bed. The urge to brush his fingers through Laura's hair was strong; but, he resisted. Instead, he bounced on the cushion of the sleep area, testing out just how good it was. He twiddled his thumb around a bit.

"Did I enjoy...it?" The young separated his thumbs from each to rub the back of his neck.

His eyes glanced around.

"Yeah."

It was hard to admit because what they did to that a poor man was despicable.

"It was like...as good as eating for after not eating solid food for a while."

Mac shifted to look at Laura, "Did you?"

[Laura Gould (DELETED 5747)]

The bed didn’t feel warm. The bed was soft, but it didn’t feel welcoming. Maybe the events of the night had formed a shell around Laura, so that she couldn’t properly enjoy the merits of the bed. Though when the mattress dipped under the weight of Mackinnley, the shell began to crack, even if only just slightly. Laura kicked off her shoes and sent them over the side of the bed. Each thwump as they hit the floor sounded like a crack of thunder in her ears. And when she moved against the sheets, the sound of the rustling material was like static from a television turned up way too loud. Mackinnley’s voice was a soothing rumble, however – whether just the low vibration of it, or the agreement within the words, Laura didn’t know.

The relief coupled with Laura’s own guilt and she nodded. Her hazel eyes were wide – the thin sheen of water thickened as her emotions nearly got the better of her again. Her bottom lip quivered, and she took a deep breath before she answered Mackinnley. One deep breath that she held, until the ache in her throat subsided and the pressure behind her eyes lessened.

“I did,” she said. Mackinnley had answered her honestly, and in that answer it was if a wall had crumbled. If Laura was ashamed, she couldn’t be anymore. No, that wasn’t quite it – she was still ashamed, but Mackinnley was ashamed too, right? They could share in their shame; and she could admit to anything, now. This was not something that ever came up in all those articles about couples. Scientists have discovered that the shared experience of nearly killing a man by draining his blood will strengthen most relationships.

Laura didn’t care about the sheets anymore, and how they were clean and she was not. She squirmed and pushed until the sheets were down, and she could pull them up over her shoulders, if she wanted to. But she held them open. A silent invitation for Mackinnley to join her beneath the covers. Not because she craved intimacy, but because she needed his proximity. If he was the one who made her feel comfortable when her own bed could not, then she wanted him as close as was possible.

“I did enjoy it, Kinney, and I want to do it again,” she said. There. She admitted the thing that she hadn’t realised was bothering her so much. She wanted to do it again.

Outside, the sun was close to rising. The night had been long, and fatigue began to wash over Laura in great, crashing waves.

[Mackinnley (DELETED 5761)]

She admitted it.

She liked it too.

He had a combination of thoughts and feelings intermingling in his mind and heart.

One, he was so happy to hear her admit she enjoyed it too because it meant he wasn't alone.

Two, it meant that there was truly something wrong with the pair of them to enjoy it. It was disturbing to say the least.

But the feeling of calmness was more overwhelming than anything. She enjoyed it. They enjoyed it. He wasn't alone and that was the thing he felt to fear the most in this situation. No one would understand if he tried to talk to them. And why would he? How incredibly stupid would that be of him to do so? Surely by saying anything to anyone he would land himself a one way ticket the closest asylum in the city. He furrowed his brows as he continued to twiddle his thumbs around. God, what was he suppose to say at this point? Mac felt the bed movie, which caught his attention immediately.

Laura had gotten underneath the sheets and instead of pulling them over her, she just held them out. She held the out for him. He didn't hesitate. He found himself rising to his feet to pull his sweater off. A plain white t-shirt revealed itself. Gently, he dropped the sweater onto the floor and pulled his shoes off before he climbed into bed. He desired intimacy but not in the form of sex. He just wanted to be close to her. To find comfort in her presence. To find comfort in having some part of them touching. God, there were just some things he could never grow out of and getting comfort from human touch was one of them.

The redhead crept into the bed, scooting in close to the blond beauty while taking the sheets and pulling them up. Mac shifted onto his left side so he could face Laura better.

"You want to do it again?" He questioned, eyes wide. "I mean...god, Laura. We were lucky tonight. Lucky no one else was there when we...attacked that guy. We can't just be...going around, biting people and drinking their blood. That's..."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"That's not normal."

He sighed and tilted his head up, eyes fluttering open. At the head of the bed was a rather large window, with thin white curtains covering the glass. On both sides were thicker curtains, blue though. The white curtains were just enough to distort the image of someone but thin enough to let the sunlight in. The sun wasn't up quite yet, but the night sky was lightening up each passing moment. He wondered what would happen when the sun came up. Would it be a start to a better day? He didn't know. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Sleep the new day away and hope that he woke up feeling like his normal self. He'd eat real food and wouldn't have no desire to drink from another human being.

Yes, that's what he desired the most.

"Maybe this feeling will go away when we get some rest," Mac offered, closing his eyes once more.

He hoped.

[Laura Gould (DELETED 5747)]

Laura felt as if she had gone too far. They both admitted to having liked taking blood from another human being; she had not thought that it was too much of a stretch to want to do it again, but now she realised that the sentiment was not shared. It was not normal, Mackinnley said. The tone of his voice had Laura’s head tucking in against her chest. She didn’t want him to see her face; she didn’t want him to see the way her eyes burned with shame, the way they glistened with tears that she refused to let fall.

At least he hadn’t recoiled from her, she thought. At least he was still there. Laura curled into the foetal position. Even though the heater was on, she didn’t feel warm yet. It bothered her, that she couldn’t feel warm. Although she didn’t trust herself to speak anymore, she still shuffled in a little closer to the male.

It bothered her that this was how their night had ended up. She wouldn’t lie. The entire day before she’d entertained vague fantasies. What if he walks me home? What if… will I invite him up? I should invite him up, if it goes well… and then maybe… maybe… And here he was. In her bed. But she was clammed up, her body tense and her arms tucked tight in against her chest. Although she could smell him, although all the hair on her skin stood on end, aware of his very physical presence, she made no other move. Not now. Not after he’d made her feel so ashamed of herself.

Not after the nigh they’d just experienced.

It didn’t take long before her eyelids drooped and a heavy darkness descended. Where her body was tense, it instantly relaxed – as lifeless as a corpse. One second she was awake, and the next second she was gone. She may as well have been dead. But for how long? For how long was she dead?

In the dream, she was feeding. Back on the street with Mackinnley, with her teeth sunk into some poor person’s neck. But there was something behind her. Something dark and expansive. When she turned around, it was as if she was looking into a black hole, and it was slowly, slowly sucking all of the colour, all of the solidity out of the world around her. But in the centre of the black hole was a glimmer of orange. A spark… a flame. It flickered and danced, until….

… it exploded. Heat erupted around her. Laura screamed, a wailing shrill, like that of a spurned banshee. Like a harbinger of death. She didn’t only scream in the dream. She screamed right there, next to Mackinnley. Cracked lips pulled back to bare long, glistening sharp canines. But the skin of her face was blistering, smoke curling up and away from her cheek, her forehead, her ear. The sun had spilled over the window sill. The bright light illuminated the two sleeping vampires.

Laura did the first thing that instinct told her to do. To run from the pain. To make it go away. Not only that, but she could see the blisters erupting on Kinney’s face, too – she could see that the same pain that afflicted her, afflicted him too. She pulled the heavy quilt up over their heads before she started to nudge and kick at her heavy companion.

“Kinney!” she screeched. “Kinney, move! Get out of the sun!”

She didn’t know whether the blanket would help them. She didn’t know whether it would shield them. She scrambled up over the man’s body. She had a hold of his hand and she was tugging, pulling, would drag him if she had to, toward the bathroom. There were no windows in her bathroom. It was a small bathroom, with a bath and shower in one, with the white, red curlicued shower curtain; the toilet and the washing machine were in there, too. Cold. Tiled. But there was no light in there. No sun. The world spun, and she felt weak – but the pain spurred her on. The pain, and her need to get Kinney and herself out of the glare, which threatened to blind her.

[Mackinnley (DELETED 5761)]

If someone asked him who fell asleep first, he honestly wouldn't be able to tell them. Though, he wouldn't openly admit it, it wouldn't have surprised him to find out he had been the first one to drift off into the land of dreams. All he remembered was staring at the approaching dawn with hopeful eyes. With all his might, he hoped the previous nightmarish evening would just be a dream. He hoped and hoped it had just been a figment of his imagination. That Laura and he had a great time together on their walk right after dinner. That he would awake to find himself in bed with the beautiful blond in his embrace. That he could slip out of the bed quietly because he didn't want to wake her and be able to move to the window to see his car parked across the street. God, that was all he wanted. He wanted to make her breakfast, even though it would be a bad idea. It wasn't like Mac was the best cook and Liam made sure to remind him of that fact every time he cooked dinner. But he would attempt to make her breakfast.

That's the reality he wanted to wake up to. Not the reality of him being some sort of sick freak, attacking complete strangers and drinking their blood without much consideration for their life.

He welcomed this sleep, not because he was physically exhausted; though, he was. No, he welcomed it because mentally he was beyond exhausted. He wanted a time to shut his mind off completely and just sleep. There were no dreams. There were no images of his family flashing in his mind. No, images of his mother speaking to him clouding his sleep. It was just a peaceful dreamless sleep.

Liam always said he slept like the dead. He barely stirred. The redhead wasn't one for moving around a lot in his sleep. Once he found a comfortable position, he usually stuck with it for the rest of the night. Being in Laura's bed made no difference except he was sleeping facing her. He didn't realize he was in danger until she was literally screaming in his face in outright pain. Mac hadn't consciously noticed his skin was blistering. He was a pale man. Despite the amount of sunblock he could administer to his skin, it never seemed to be enough. Or he always seemed to forget an important spot. So he wasn't a complete stranger to sunburns and how they blister then peel.

Laura's scream woke him out of his sleep. He wasn't completely aware of what was happening or why his face was burning. Or why the woman was literally flailing, limbs and all, at him in the bed they shared. But she was desperate to get out of the bed and she kicked at him. Mac couldn't register what happened nor was he in the right head space to ask questions. The male just found himself tumbling and fumbling out of the safety of the bed because she said to get out of the sun. But it wasn't connecting to him why he needed to get out of the sun in the first place. He just found his body slamming onto the floor. Laura had already grabbed his hand and was attempting to pull him along. He placed his hand on the ground and scrambled to his felt much like a calf after its birth.

She ushered them into the bathroom where instinct took control, and he closed the door immediately. It was like closing out the last chapter of what it meant to be normal. Mac slowly reached up to touch his face and could almost feel the heat radiating from his skin. "****..." he muttered. He chalked it up to pale people problems. He turned to face Laura, to ask her what all the commotion was about. But he looked at her, his jaw dropped and his eyes widen.

"...What happened to you? Why are there blisters on your face?" He pointed toward the mirror, gesturing for her to look at herself. But he was sure she could feel it on her own skin as he truly felt on his own.

Then his shoulders slumped.

“Kinney, move! Get out of the sun!” It repeated in his mind over and over until it finally registered in his mind. He stepped to look at himself in the mirror, but didn't see anything. Like...he didn't see anything at all. It was as if he wasn't in the bathroom at all. Even though, he was clearly in the bathroom. Mac looked around and reached out to touch the mirror yet it didn't see a flipped image of himself. Just nothing.

He took a step back until he was backed against the wall. "What the ****..."