It had been a really long, long day. First Caitlin had visited the Fist & Fang. Then the rest of the day had been spent going to the various hospitals and Healers around the city in the hopes that she'd find Deacon in one piece. He?d thrown a tantrum the previous night and hadn?t come home. It wasn't until around dinner time that she finally got a location from a Hospital in the South side.
Figuring Deke wouldn't have the common sense to eat real food, probably choosing to get drunk instead, Caitlin grabbed some Chinese takeout and headed over to the address the nurse had given her. Standing now on the front porch of the seemingly empty apartment, Caitlin took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door.
The firmness of her knock let the door swing open. Inside was dark, and didn't smell too pleasant. It was a far cry from his real home. This place was just a crash pad and it showed. The furniture was worn, and there were dark, stained clothing draped over the arm of the chair. The shirt was white at one time, but there was dirt and dried blood caked on it and the white, undershirt was just as bad, if not a little worse. In the floor were his expensive black shoes, one in what was the kitchen, and a sock. Then another toward the hall, and a sock that was half into the shadow of darkness of the back of the apartment.
A sliver of fear ran down her spine. Caitlin leaned her head inside, peering around for her boyfriend. "Deacon,? she called hesitantly. She didn't want to go inside....there was no way he could be staying here. It was dirty and smelled like trash. Why would he be here anyway? Those fancy shoes could be anyone's. "Deacon?" This time a little louder.
He stirred from a drug induced sleep, and reached out for the pistol on the nightstand which of course knocked over scrip and booze bottles sending something clattering to the floor. He focused on the voice and tried to clear his aching head. "Cait?" His voice was scratchy, like he'd been drinking acid. "Caitlin?" Like her, the second time was a little louder. He threw the covers back and moved to the door, leaving the pistol on the bed. They wrapped his ribs again, as he'd aggravated that old wound and they took some time to heal. His hands were bandaged and he looked sort of like an extra from Fight Club.
The sound of his voice propelled her inside and she shut the door quickly. This wasn't the best neighborhood to be in. Carrying the bags into the kitchen, she set their food on the counter and then met him in the hallway where she stopped short upon seeing his battered body. "Oh my God," she gasped, a hand lifting to cover her mouth. "What the hell happened?"
"I got in a fight." Captain Obvious to the scene. "I'm fine." He was filthy, covered in dried blood, some was his, some wasn't. He had a few bandages here and there, and a couple of butterfly type over his cheek.
Her mouth opened to speak, but snapped shut in an effort to keep from saying something snarky in return. She worked her jaw muscle a few times, the muscle tightening as she chewed on her words. Reaching around into her back pocket, Cait grabbed her phone and tapped on the screen quickly.
The night prior started coming back to him and getting clearer as he stared at her with the phone. "How in the hell did you find me anyway?" The phone was something that was starting to get him agitated.
She didn't answer him immediately. Kyle had responded right away, so she typed another quick response and then slipped the phone back into her pocket. "I told the nurse that I was your fiance."
"Oh? She bought that?" He had to wonder what happened to patient doctor privilege. "Who are you talking to now?" He asked, she didn't have to tell him, but he was ready to snatch her phone and throw it through an open window, or just shatter the window as it flew through the glass.
"She did. I pretended to be hysterical, caused a scene. I think she just gave me your address to get me out of there." Her gaze drifted to the dark walls on either side of them, though she couldn't tell if they were terribly dirty due to the light being off. She turned and moved a few steps away into the kitchen. "I was telling Kyle that I had found you. That you're alive. He and I have been worried." This was all, of course, spoken with her back to him as she busied herself with untying the plastic bags holding their food.
His jaw clenched and he chewed on his cheek, trying to keep a comment to himself for a moment. "I could have her job."
"Why?" Now she looked over at him, brows creasing.
"No proof of who you are, just a woman in hysterics, and sent right to me?"
She rolled her eyes. "So she probably shouldn't have. I get that. But I'm glad she did. Otherwise, Kyle and I would be assuming you were dead. Which would have forced me to go see Asher. Which I almost did anyway." Caitlin turned around to look at him, arms folded across her chest just under her breasts. "Do you have a death wish or something?"
"Why would you even think that? I've been fighting my whole f*cking life." He braced himself against the wall, holding himself steady as he watched her.
"I didn't say you weren't capable, Deacon. But going after vampires is just stupid."
He reached behind his back and pulled out a piece of silver honed into a sharp stake about a foot long. "Doesn't take much."
"You shouldn't be so casual about taking a life."
The stake was put away. "Life? They aren't breathing. They don't even have a heartbeat."
"Oh don't give me that. Your own mother is a vampire." Disgusted, Caitlin turned back to the food. The bags were untied and all that was left was to open the boxes, but now that her eyes had acclimated to the dim lighting, she didn't want her food near any surface of this place. Now who was the elitist?
"Yeah, and I'd end it for her too."
"You sounds like Cris," muttered.
He just stared at her before he turned and walked back down the hall into the bedroom.
Maybe that had been a cheap shot. Caitlin sighed, hearing him walk away from her. She stood at the counter for about thirty seconds before chasing after him.
The bedroom door was swung open, then shut...loudly. He moved over to where his fresh pressed clothing hung. He knew that everything else was trashed so he bought new, much to the disgust of the shop's owner.
No knocking. She just opened the door and leaned against the doorjam. "Why are you so pissy? Max is just trying to get a rise out of us. And you're letting him win."
"Max is a f*ck." He started stripping off the battered trousers. "He's always been a f*ck, and will be until someone kills the son of a b*tch."
"He was an a**hole with Sarah, now he wants to f*ck with you." Muttering as he was unwrapping the new undershirt, focusing on what he was doing instead of looking at her.
"Why can't you just leave it alone? Max just wants us to break up, for whatever reason." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "The best thing we can do is just ignore him. He'll get tired of it."
"Made a nice dinner, no ordering out, had tea and everything. No wine, no booze." The bottles were still on the ground where they'd crashed. "Try to talk to you, but Cris..."
Now they were getting somewhere. "I had no idea you had anything planned. You know, usually when a guy cooks dinner for his girlfriend, he says something before dinnertime. I was at the bar with Alex and Cris. I thought you were working. Otherwise, I'd have been with you."
"I left you a message, at work..." He still didn't look at her, he was working the buttons on the new, starched shirt with bandaged hands.
"Well, I never got it. Whoever you left the message with didn't give it to me." She pushed out of her lean and took a few steps closer. "No, instead, Max had to come in and bug me while I was hanging out with my friends. Showed me pictures of you kissing some girl at Fang."
"Yeah, that's a reliable f*cking source." He shook his head and left the buttons as he reached for the jeans that were hanging. "Then I tell you I'm looking for you and no, no...still have to hang out with him." His hands were shaking as he was pulling on the jeans.
"It didn't look fake to me!" Her voice had lifted just a little, cheeks beginning to flush. "It never even occurred to me that it could have been doctored or whatever until later. I was with Cris because he insisted on walking me home. He doesn't like vampires and was worried about me. If you had said you were coming to get me, then I'd have gone with you. But you just had to go off picking fights even though I begged you not to."
"Begged? More like told..." Growled as he pulled the jeans over his hips slowly. "Then you f*cking hung up on me."
"Because you weren't listening to me. You had the choice between me and Asher and you chose to fight. Why was I going to continue to beat my head against the wall? For someone who, at the time, I thought had been cheating on me?"
Figuring Deke wouldn't have the common sense to eat real food, probably choosing to get drunk instead, Caitlin grabbed some Chinese takeout and headed over to the address the nurse had given her. Standing now on the front porch of the seemingly empty apartment, Caitlin took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door.
The firmness of her knock let the door swing open. Inside was dark, and didn't smell too pleasant. It was a far cry from his real home. This place was just a crash pad and it showed. The furniture was worn, and there were dark, stained clothing draped over the arm of the chair. The shirt was white at one time, but there was dirt and dried blood caked on it and the white, undershirt was just as bad, if not a little worse. In the floor were his expensive black shoes, one in what was the kitchen, and a sock. Then another toward the hall, and a sock that was half into the shadow of darkness of the back of the apartment.
A sliver of fear ran down her spine. Caitlin leaned her head inside, peering around for her boyfriend. "Deacon,? she called hesitantly. She didn't want to go inside....there was no way he could be staying here. It was dirty and smelled like trash. Why would he be here anyway? Those fancy shoes could be anyone's. "Deacon?" This time a little louder.
He stirred from a drug induced sleep, and reached out for the pistol on the nightstand which of course knocked over scrip and booze bottles sending something clattering to the floor. He focused on the voice and tried to clear his aching head. "Cait?" His voice was scratchy, like he'd been drinking acid. "Caitlin?" Like her, the second time was a little louder. He threw the covers back and moved to the door, leaving the pistol on the bed. They wrapped his ribs again, as he'd aggravated that old wound and they took some time to heal. His hands were bandaged and he looked sort of like an extra from Fight Club.
The sound of his voice propelled her inside and she shut the door quickly. This wasn't the best neighborhood to be in. Carrying the bags into the kitchen, she set their food on the counter and then met him in the hallway where she stopped short upon seeing his battered body. "Oh my God," she gasped, a hand lifting to cover her mouth. "What the hell happened?"
"I got in a fight." Captain Obvious to the scene. "I'm fine." He was filthy, covered in dried blood, some was his, some wasn't. He had a few bandages here and there, and a couple of butterfly type over his cheek.
Her mouth opened to speak, but snapped shut in an effort to keep from saying something snarky in return. She worked her jaw muscle a few times, the muscle tightening as she chewed on her words. Reaching around into her back pocket, Cait grabbed her phone and tapped on the screen quickly.
The night prior started coming back to him and getting clearer as he stared at her with the phone. "How in the hell did you find me anyway?" The phone was something that was starting to get him agitated.
She didn't answer him immediately. Kyle had responded right away, so she typed another quick response and then slipped the phone back into her pocket. "I told the nurse that I was your fiance."
"Oh? She bought that?" He had to wonder what happened to patient doctor privilege. "Who are you talking to now?" He asked, she didn't have to tell him, but he was ready to snatch her phone and throw it through an open window, or just shatter the window as it flew through the glass.
"She did. I pretended to be hysterical, caused a scene. I think she just gave me your address to get me out of there." Her gaze drifted to the dark walls on either side of them, though she couldn't tell if they were terribly dirty due to the light being off. She turned and moved a few steps away into the kitchen. "I was telling Kyle that I had found you. That you're alive. He and I have been worried." This was all, of course, spoken with her back to him as she busied herself with untying the plastic bags holding their food.
His jaw clenched and he chewed on his cheek, trying to keep a comment to himself for a moment. "I could have her job."
"Why?" Now she looked over at him, brows creasing.
"No proof of who you are, just a woman in hysterics, and sent right to me?"
She rolled her eyes. "So she probably shouldn't have. I get that. But I'm glad she did. Otherwise, Kyle and I would be assuming you were dead. Which would have forced me to go see Asher. Which I almost did anyway." Caitlin turned around to look at him, arms folded across her chest just under her breasts. "Do you have a death wish or something?"
"Why would you even think that? I've been fighting my whole f*cking life." He braced himself against the wall, holding himself steady as he watched her.
"I didn't say you weren't capable, Deacon. But going after vampires is just stupid."
He reached behind his back and pulled out a piece of silver honed into a sharp stake about a foot long. "Doesn't take much."
"You shouldn't be so casual about taking a life."
The stake was put away. "Life? They aren't breathing. They don't even have a heartbeat."
"Oh don't give me that. Your own mother is a vampire." Disgusted, Caitlin turned back to the food. The bags were untied and all that was left was to open the boxes, but now that her eyes had acclimated to the dim lighting, she didn't want her food near any surface of this place. Now who was the elitist?
"Yeah, and I'd end it for her too."
"You sounds like Cris," muttered.
He just stared at her before he turned and walked back down the hall into the bedroom.
Maybe that had been a cheap shot. Caitlin sighed, hearing him walk away from her. She stood at the counter for about thirty seconds before chasing after him.
The bedroom door was swung open, then shut...loudly. He moved over to where his fresh pressed clothing hung. He knew that everything else was trashed so he bought new, much to the disgust of the shop's owner.
No knocking. She just opened the door and leaned against the doorjam. "Why are you so pissy? Max is just trying to get a rise out of us. And you're letting him win."
"Max is a f*ck." He started stripping off the battered trousers. "He's always been a f*ck, and will be until someone kills the son of a b*tch."
"He was an a**hole with Sarah, now he wants to f*ck with you." Muttering as he was unwrapping the new undershirt, focusing on what he was doing instead of looking at her.
"Why can't you just leave it alone? Max just wants us to break up, for whatever reason." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "The best thing we can do is just ignore him. He'll get tired of it."
"Made a nice dinner, no ordering out, had tea and everything. No wine, no booze." The bottles were still on the ground where they'd crashed. "Try to talk to you, but Cris..."
Now they were getting somewhere. "I had no idea you had anything planned. You know, usually when a guy cooks dinner for his girlfriend, he says something before dinnertime. I was at the bar with Alex and Cris. I thought you were working. Otherwise, I'd have been with you."
"I left you a message, at work..." He still didn't look at her, he was working the buttons on the new, starched shirt with bandaged hands.
"Well, I never got it. Whoever you left the message with didn't give it to me." She pushed out of her lean and took a few steps closer. "No, instead, Max had to come in and bug me while I was hanging out with my friends. Showed me pictures of you kissing some girl at Fang."
"Yeah, that's a reliable f*cking source." He shook his head and left the buttons as he reached for the jeans that were hanging. "Then I tell you I'm looking for you and no, no...still have to hang out with him." His hands were shaking as he was pulling on the jeans.
"It didn't look fake to me!" Her voice had lifted just a little, cheeks beginning to flush. "It never even occurred to me that it could have been doctored or whatever until later. I was with Cris because he insisted on walking me home. He doesn't like vampires and was worried about me. If you had said you were coming to get me, then I'd have gone with you. But you just had to go off picking fights even though I begged you not to."
"Begged? More like told..." Growled as he pulled the jeans over his hips slowly. "Then you f*cking hung up on me."
"Because you weren't listening to me. You had the choice between me and Asher and you chose to fight. Why was I going to continue to beat my head against the wall? For someone who, at the time, I thought had been cheating on me?"