FicWad

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring out into the night as still as stone, tears dripping off of her face and soaking her.
"Tia, we need to talk about this." I muttered. She shook her head silently, and I sighed, getting out of her bed and pulling on my jeans. I needed her to talk about it, I needed it. Because I needed to know how it had ended. I pretended I knew. I could guess what had happened but I didn't know for sure. That's what had started it all, the drinking, the sleeping around. I just wanted to forget her and the awful thing I'd done, but it never went away, it just got worse and worse. It clawed at my insides late at night, when I was alone, no human company to distract me from the aching guilt inside. "Tia, we are talking about this, you need to get it all out. You just push it to the back of your mind and hide it all the time and you just can't do it any more!" My voice increased in volume, and she shook slightly. No, don't upset her further, what are you doing? Help her, look after her. You love her. You love her.
I knelt infront of her, our eyes level, my hands on her shoulders, holding her still.
"Tell me, tell me what happened after I left." My own voice shook as I said the words, all horrible to hear and tasted disgusting on the tip of my tongue. "What happened to it?"
"D-don't say that. It. Like he was a monster." she sobbed. "He wasn't a monster and you know it." Her voice reached a new volume, and I needed to calm her quickly or I would shout. This wasn't the time or place but if given ammunition I would just let go.
"All right, him, what happened to him?" I breathed, the guilt welling up and giving me a head ache of bad feeling and regret. She pushed me away feebly, my arms dropping at my sides, I was past caring, this was my punishment for what I'd done. I was facing the music.
"How can you talk about him like that? How can you say this feeling so detatched knowing that you hurt me and you hurt him? You killed him. You killed him the night you left." she hissed, wanting to make me hurt. She did a good job, I felt like ripping my heart out of my chest to stop it aching. "You didn't want him to even breathe around you so you killed him. You were ashamed of him."
And here's where I let go. I looked up at her, tears spilling down my face.
"I never thought that. Don't you dare. I was scared. I was young and stupid and reckless and I ruined your life, remember?" I hissed back, equal venom in my voice. I was angry, and making her feel as bad as I did felt so good.
"You still killed him. He was innocent in all this, you killed your own flesh and blood, you piece of filth." She spat, standing and towering over me. A sudden memory sparked, and my heart felt like it had been cut open.
"When you told me, you cried. You thought I'd be angry at you that this was even happening. I was never angry at you, I was just scared. I was so scared that something or some one or even I would hurt you and I was right, wasn't I?" I yelped, my voice leaping octaves with every other word, my throat stinging. "I came home drunk one night and I attacked you and I killed him. I ran away as far as I could because I knew I wouldn't be able to look at you again with out wanting to make myself suffer for what I'd done. I'm a coward and I need to pay for this, just show me how, please!" I cried, red in the face, staring up at her, pitiful and pathetic. Why she even wanted me around her still mystified me. I was scum. I was a murderer. She sank to the floor, defeated. Sitting lopsidedly opposite me, she stared, eyes tired and bloodshot.
"He wasn't even alive yet. He never had the chance." she muttered. "How could you do it? How could you kill your own child? How could you kill your own unborn child and live with yourself?" The words, those words made me feel actual physical pain. She showed little emotion now, the walls were going back up and she was becoming analytical.

"I never meant to. I was scared, but I didn't plan it, I would never have thought of even hurting you, no, please." I cried, shaking on my knees and wishing it could all end. "He was, he was my son, he was going to be my son and you were the mother of my child, Lucretia. I loved you more than anything and I ruined it for myself and I hurt you so badly I can't think..."

I remembered, that night, clear as crystal. It had haunted me for years. The night I had attacked her and killed our child in the process. I returned to our small apartment drunk on cheap alcohol and I was angry. Angry because I felt the sting of being a newborn vampire, the constant thirst that irritated me and made me feel less than human. I felt like a monster, so I thought I needed to act like one. I'd been in a fight earlier that night and the adrenaline was still high, I felt like I could put the frighteners on any one. Even the woman I loved. She'd been led there on the couch, dozing off to sleep, tired from waiting up for me, unaware that I was about to beat her so badly that I killed the child that she carried and left her for dead. The thought still sickens me. Some how, as I saw her lying there, screaming and crying out for help, I knew that it was wrong. I bit her. I bit her to save her, realising what I'd done. Then I left, running away like the coward I was. Like the coward I still was.
"Kill me." I muttered, drifting out of the nightmarish sequence in my head and staring at her in the cold room of the here and now. "Or I'll just do it myself. Either way, I don't want this any more. I don't deserve to breathe and live. I tried, once before, but I survived. I'm not going to let you save me. I didn't save you." I stared at the floor, suddenly sober.

"No, no!" she wailed. I looked up at her, surprised at her sudden change in mood. "You're the only piece I have of him left, please..." she shook, collapsing infront of me, grabbing at my hair, face, anything. I held her wrists gently, pulling her into my arms. She pressed her face against my chest, crying and wailing loudly.

"Carrying on like this won't bring him back." I muttered.
"I don't care, I don't care." she cried, hysterical. "Don't leave me, please."
"All right, shh, I won't leave. Please, just quiet Tia, please." I said shakily, rocking her back and forth.

And I felt an even greater stab of guilt when I heard the hushed tones of Logan outside the door, his shaky breathing and stifled wimpering making it clear that he cried just as much as she did.