Deke stood in the large window that looked out over the drive. Their argument had done no good and he finally told her to take the silver Boxer and leave his Aston alone. He watched as the LED taillights disappeared from view.

?Fvcking great,? He said as he turned and walked out of his room and into the study across the hall. ?Friends are dicks, and she?s going to wind up dead. Stupid, na?ve bitch! Whatever.? His free hand moved through his hair, while he plucked a bottle from its resting place on the mini bar. ?She thinks I?m being an as*hole? she?s got no idea.?

The Highland Park 50 was poured into a glass almost to the top. Since he was awake, he figured, he might as well drink. Her friends meant a lot to her, and she didn?t seem to understand that they meant nothing to him. Friends were liabilities as she was learning tonight, driving off to who knows where. He had no interest in sitting around some table getting to know people that were of no concern to him, and had no bearing on his life.

More often than not, she reminded him that he was an asshole when it came to her friends, and while he knew that relationships were about give and take, he just wasn?t going to give on this. He?d spent time alone with the guy, and that was a waste, from what he heard of the girl, she was trouble. Since she?d gone missing, and was found again, that sealed his thoughts on her. ?Surprised she?s not taking in mutts too. Soft hearted idiot.? He scowled as he took the first drink from that glass.

He had one friend, and that was Kyle. Kyle had taken a liking to Cait, but then again, he liked Sarah too. He rolled his neck to the side and took a drink from the whisky, not even flinching as it burned down this throat to his stomach. The picture she had insisted they take in the photo booth was there on the small desk in the room, and it held his attention for a moment. He moved slowly over to it and picked it up in the cheap, black frame she had put it in.

?Fvck this.? He dropped the picture into the trash and turned to walk from the room.
?She wants them, she can have them. At least Sarah and I kept our lives separate. There weren?t any insistences about meeting friends that are ridiculous and there?s no common ground. No sitting and wondering who she?s fvcking when she wasn?t with you?. Well, Sarah had been fvcking that big guy, but to be honest I had girls on the side too. I couldn?t even tell you their names now.? He fumed while he spoke to the empty house.

The rest of the whisky was downed in two large swallows and he went back to his bed. The covers were straightened and he slid back between them. Before he went back to sleep, he sent her a message to her phone.

?Let Kyle know where the car is. He will come get it later. You and I will have a talk.?
The text was easier than the call, in his frame of mind; it wouldn?t have been a good time to talk anyway.

The phone was turned off and put back on the bedside.

?Enjoy your friends.?

"Deacon?" The door creaked shut as she moved inside, keys jangling in her hand. The lights were on, so she'd let herself inside. Back after nearly 2 days taking care of Alex, Cait felt her friend was doing well enough to be left alone--at least long enough to work out whatever had gotten under Deacon's skin.

The house was quiet. He didn't reply, but he was luckily alone. He just stayed where he was sitting, the expensive bottle of Highland was nearly gone as he filled the glass again. Deke was nothing, if he wasn't stubborn. The study had one light on, and it was on the desk, leaving him in an overstuffed wingback, right at the edge of the light's circle. He wasn't dressed for going out. In fact he was in basketball shorts, no shirt or shoes. He'd gotten up with the idea of getting drunk and was obviously well into it.

A quick walk-through of the lower level showed her he wasn't downstairs, so the brunette headed up to the study since that was her next guess. She knew he could be stubborn, but tried to rationalize his reason for not answering--listening to music, taking a nap...on the phone? She knocked once on the door before letting herself in.

"Deacon?" When she spotted him, she smiled. "There you are."

"And there you are." He lifted the glass again for a few swallows. He watched her a minute, but remained silent. The Highland bottle was worked around the arm's edge with his fingers controlling from the neck of the squat bottle.

"Yep. Here I am. Safe and sound. I told you I'd be back." She let her bag slip off her shoulder and fall to the ground. Anything more she had to say would only make him more upset, so Caitlin decided to play it by ear for now. Test the waters. See how upset he actually was--even if she didn't understand his reasoning, she didn't like him to be mad at her.

"I assumed, since you are standing there, and you weren't found in a f*cking dumpster, or oh, I don't f*cking know, incinerated. Raped? Whatever any of the sick f*cks that like to do in this town." He took another swallow from the glass.

Brown eyes rolled. "I can't stop living my life because there are bad people in this city. There are plenty of good people, too, and one of them needed me." Her forehead creased with her deep frown, arms crossing just under her breasts. "What would you have done if Kyle was hurt and needed you?"

"Hope he died fast." And the bottle was turned to fill his glass again. "I've known Kyle since we were kids. Kyle doesn't hang out in sh*tty places drinking, then go to some f*cking pit to fight. He goes point A, to point B. No stops, unless he's seeing that Mexican chick he's f*cking."

"You don't mean that." Caitlin looked wounded. "Or if you do, then you don't know the true meaning of friendship."

He just watched her as the glass was lifted to lips again. At least their picture was no longer in the trash, but it was moved over to the shelf, away from his desk. The maid had found it and thought it had fallen from his desk. The glass was lowered and his tongue came out to catch the last drops and wipe them from soft skin. "His family would be well taken care of, so I do know the meaning of friendship."

"Money? What a sh*t answer. I bet his family would trade it all for him to still be alive." Gaze lowered to the drink in his hand and she was filled with anger. Money and booze. He couldn't remind her more of William right now. The diminutive girl stalked across the room and snatched the bottle away so he couldn't refill again. "Why are you getting wasted?"

"That bottle is seventeen thousand dollars," He would have stood to take it but the legs weren't firing to his brain thanks to that same bottle. "Highland, 50 year old and I'm not wasted." At least his speech wasn't slurred.

"Well I'm not letting you blow through seventeen grand in a night." Caitlin resisted the urge to run the bottle to the bathroom and dump it down the drain. Something told her that'd do nothing for Deke's mood. The expensive bottle was capped and set high on a bookshelf. Fingertips rested on the shelf as she attempting to regain some composure.

"Plan on staying all night to keep me out of my bar, or going to run off when your fucking phone rings again?" The glass was drained before she could take it too.

"I shouldn't have to babysit you," the words were spoken into the books, shoulders sagging. Arms dropped back to her sides and she turned around with an accusatory glare. "Why are you so intent to keep me away from my friends? Is it because you have none--since we've already established that Kyle isn't one."

"Friends are a f*cking liability. You are going to wind up dead because of your," finger quotes , "friends." The glass was placed on the desk. "You don't know at that time of night, if they are held by someone and they need more f*cking dolls so with a... I don't know what about to rip their f*cking heads off, they call you so they can haul your ass off to the fields."

"I can't live my life like that, babe." In an attempt to calm things down, she'd softened her tone. "I can't close myself off to the world. By your logic...I'm a liability. We shouldn't be together. Someone could snatch me off the street on my way to work and try to use me to get to you."

"They don't f*cking know you. Why do you think I don't wanna go to that sh*thole you love? They see us together, that's a very real possibility."

Caitlin rubbed the crease between her brows with her middle fingertip and sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say, hon'. I really don't. Alex and Cris are my friends. I'll probably make more friends in the course of my life. If you can't deal with that..."

"Yeah, I'm the asshole for not going to hang out with your friends, or caring about their f*cking drama."

"Yeah, you are." Stare.

"They don't matter to me. I've met with that blade carrying freak and I don't give two sh*ts about the blonde. She's going to get you hurt."

Lips pressed into a thin line as she chewed on words that screamed to be set loose. She sucked in a quiet, slow breath through her nose and let it out in the same fashion before chancing speech. "So what is this, then? Are you making me choose between them and you?"

"Did I say that?" Snarled as he looked at her.

"That's what I'm trying to ascertain."

"Trying to ascertain something that I did not say... neat. Let me know how that works out for you." He pushed up from the chair and made his way from the room, down the hall and into the bathroom.

How could he be so infuriating? Caitlin's cheeks started to burn, not out of embarrassment but out of rising tension and unleashed words. "So what the f*ck are you saying?" Calling after him, following him into the hallway, but stopping there.

"Taking a piss, unless you want to help, I'm not talking right now." He wasn't, he was standing at the sink looking at his reflection and fuming. Idiot girl was going to die. He could just send someone to take out Alex and Cris, then life would be normal after a bit of mourning.

"Fine," she snapped, turning around to head in the opposite direction. She was headed for the front door. "Talk to me when you're sober."

"Yeah." He splashed some water on his face and ran his hand down the back of his neck. Deke felt like throwing up, but that'd be a waste of good booze. The door opened and he stepped out, watching her walk toward the door.

"I'll see you later. And don't worry, I'll say hi to Cris for you when I get home." Well that was a little mean.

"Oh yeah, already going to start that sh*t, Sarah?" He was drunk, and that sounded like something she'd say. "Go on, whatever you think you gotta do, but remember, that is a door that swings both f*cking ways."

Pausing at the top of the stairs, the brunette whirled around and glared at her inebriated boyfriend. "Did you seriously just call me by your ex's name? And what? What exactly did you mean by that, Deke? You may like to pretend there's something going on between me and Cris, but we're just friends."

"He's obviously at home waiting on you. Gonna get a fucking rank cat too?"

"He's my neighbor, you f*cking retard. If you ever took an interest in anything outside of screwing me, you'd have known that."

"I have an interest, it's you that keeps choosing them over me. Leaving in the middle of the goddam night to handle some sh*t that should be for the f*cking watch. Lunch constantly with that f*ck, when I call you to come have lunch with me."

"You perception of constantly needs a little reevaluation, Deke. We don't have lunch all the time. You are my priority 9 times out of 10. So I don't know where you're pulling this sh*t from--probably your ass, if I were to make a guess. You know what? I'm sorry. I'm sorry you don't know what it's like to care about someone enough to help them in the middle of the night. Or to hang out while sharing a meal. I'll take that over someone who wants to hide me in a bomb shelter any day." And down the stairs she goes.

?Put your high and mighty ass into my shoes, Caitlin. If I were to get a middle of the night call to some sh*tty ass area, then not return a f*cking phone call for what now...three f*cking days? HOW THE F*CK WOULD YOU FEEL?" He kicked the stairs? railing and one of the pieces of the banister went crashing to the floor below. Noise and not doing his foot a bit of good, but he was staring at her and nothing on a pain scale was registering. "You'd be so nice and considerate without that contact? My perception is functioning the way it should be, You are the one with a screwed up, one sided view." He was gripping that railing so hard the wood creaked.

She jumped as the loose piece of banister hit the floor, luckily it didn't hit her. "I was busy making sure Alex didn't die. Sorry if my mind was a little preoccupied. I did what you asked--I had Kyle come get your car. He saw me. Knew that I was fine. Saw the condition Alex was in." This was not a productive conversation, but she couldn't help defending her actions. "You could have gotten the damn car yourself! Offered to help. I've been really upset the past two days. Instead you stayed home, moped around and drank. Alone."

"I wasn't moping. I worked. Went to the Fang to take care of business that could lead to my ownership of that place. I had things to do. Kyle asked about the car, I sent him for it while I was doing my f*cking job. You could have picked up the goddamn phone and let me know yourself that you were fine." He left that alone part out of things. "So your friend is alive, halle-f*cking-luja. What is going to happen when this goes on again? You can't save the f*cking world." The pain from his foot started registering in his brain and it didn't seem to phase him, at least not that he was going to let anyone see. "Your phone works just as well as mine, so again, it works both ways. YOU wanted to talk? You wanted comforting? You could have f*cking called me." He released the railing and turned around not looking at her to catch his breath. Calm down. Was his inner mantra.

All the while he talked, Cait was just slowly shaking her head. They could talk in circles all night. It would still come down to him not liking her friends and while he claimed he wasn't asking her to choose, he really was. Tears had pooled in her eyes. Looking down, searching for her keys, she remembered she'd set her bag down upstairs. "Argh!"

All she wanted was to get out of there, but without keys, it was a little impossible. Caitlin darted back up the stairs and zipped past him without a word. She retrieved her bag from the Study and started back down the stairs, keys in hand. She was focused on them, her fingers twisting something.

He didn't move. She wanted her sh*t, he just stood there like a statue. If she wanted to go, fine. He was tired of the fight. Relationships weren't meant for him.

Resolve was quickly failing. Tears were now streaking down her cheeks unbidden as she held her breath to keep from letting him know she was so upset. At the door, one hand gripped the handle and the other set something small and silver on the little table to the left. "You know how to find me," her breath hitched, but she reigned it in quickly. "If you ever figure out how to let people in." She was out the door before he could have a chance to respond.

He finally moved--only it was down the stairs to lock that door behind her. Whatever was left, was left. The maid could handle it. He punched the solid wood hard, which pissed him off even more. He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled the small caliber pistol and she'd hear one shot. That was all he needed.

Of course she hadn't made it that far. Not far at all, since she'd come to a dead stop on the porch to cry. The gunshot made her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. Horrified, Caitlin spun around and flung herself at the door. "Deacon?!" She tried the doorknob, but it was locked and she?d just left her key on the table inside. She shook it anyway. "Deacon," she yelled again, pounding on the wooden slab. "Open the door!"

There was no answer. Deke was out on the floor. Bad decisions made.

After that sentence, it felt like ice water rushing through her veins. It was impossible to breathe in or out, the horrified cry caught in her throat. He was dead. She knew they'd waited too long to get inside. Shocked and dazed, Caitlin's body went into auto-pilot. She gripped the banister and pulled herself up from her crouched position.

Kyle held up a hand as she began to move. He didn't want her tracking up the scene but a glance up and he glared. "Jesus Christ, you have any clothes here? Anything at all?" He was trying to sterilize the scene and had a bloody towel in his hand he had used to clean his foot. "I don't know if he?s dead, ?cause only thing down here is a busted banister and a lot of blood. I've looked down stairs and he's not f*cking here."

Relief hit her like a ton of bricks. "I've got clothes in the bedroom, bottom drawer." She sounded hoarse.Cait finally peeked over the stairs and blanched. There was a lot of blood for sure. But she had to wonder...if he wasn't downstairs and there was also blood upstairs, then he must be up here too. She carefully removed her shoes and left them by the pool of blood so she wouldn't track blood through the rest of the house. Her bare feet slapped against the hardwood as she ran down the hallway to check the upstairs rooms.

The guards finally buzzed over the house intercom. "Watch is here." Kyle pressed the button. "Tell them we are in the house, but haven't found him. "The door," He turned to unlock it and found out why the key wasn't working, Deke had apparently shoved her left key into the lock and broken it off. "I can't get the door, back door should hopefully be easier to unlock." Kyle was extremely at ease trying to keep everything together. It was like he'd done this lots of times, only not with his boss.

"Any luck?" Called out toward the upstairs. "Cops incoming, and we have nothing but blood, Cait..." like she didn't know. "Need a body, dead or alive." He was moving through the house, his voice was carrying but muffled through floors. Kyle stopped in Deke's office and dropped the pistol off into a drawer of an antique office desk that was useless except for decoration. "Talk to me!" He moved through and unlocked the back door that opened off the kitchen.

Her panic had set back in. There was just so much blood. How could a person lose that much and still be alive? And why was he nowhere to be found? She checked the study first, then the bedroom, then into the bathroom. Nothing. "I don't see anything, Kyle," she yelled back, returning to the bedroom. Hands lifted to rake through her hair. At a loss for what to do, brown eyes scanned the room again for any sign he'd been in there. And then she saw it. It was hard to see in the dark, but there...near the closet...blood-soaked carpet. Cait shouted for Kyle and ran to the closet, whipping the door open.

When that door flew open a very pale hand with a very big pistol fired a shot that went past her head and embedded into the ceiling. The other was up in the one fingered salute. "F*ck...you." croaked out as his eyes closed. It wasn't a bullet hole, but his neck was open and covered in dark, dried blood but still slick at the wound. He was pale, ghostly and sunken and that pistol clattered back to the ground as he barely had strength to lift it, forget firing it. The door to his safe room was slid open but he never made it in. Instead he was laying there, bleeding on expensive shoes and clothes that had fallen when he did.

The loud explosion made her scream and hit the floor, hands coming up to cover her ears too late. Despite his obvious attempt to kill her, Caitlin scrambled forward on hands and knees to Deacon's side. "Deke?" Anger swelled inside her, warring with her desire to keep him from dying. How could he be so stupid? How could he go from loving her to hating her enough to shoot a gun at her? Cait's hands fluttered over him, looking for the wound and when she found it there on his neck, she pressed her palm to it tightly. "Kyle," she screamed again, in case the gunshot and her shout earlier hadn't been enough to make him come running.

Of course the gunshot mixed with her screaming made Kyle take steps two and three at a time. The watch was moving in closely behind him. He slid to a stop in Deke's blood near Caitlin and looked down at his friend. "That's not a gunshot wound." Master of Science here. "Something tried to rip out his throat." He looked around for a weapon, and saw that big pistol, he tossed it into the safe room and palmed the scanner to close the door to Deke's arsenal. One bloody finger was held to Cait?s lips, with a nod toward that door.

"We hear gunshots?" The watchmen were moving into the room, weapons drawn.

"No, it wasn't a shot, not sure what it was but he's injured, badly." Kyle reached for Cait's shoulders to get her out of the med team's way as they wouldn't all fit in a walk in closet, even one as big as Deke's.

"Clear out, we need in to see about him." They were being shooed away.

Now that was a thought that hadn't occurred to her. Something had done this to him? Cait was looking down at him, brows furrowed. What had happened then? A hand lifted to wipe away the blood Kyle had left on her lips. The tang of the coppery liquid still got into her mouth somehow.

She started to shake. After everything she'd gone through with Cris disappearing for a little while, Alex nearly dying, and now this? It was just too much for her to process. Bloody hands and arms wrapped around herself, hugging tightly. "Kyle," the brunette whispered. "Could a Vamp have gotten inside?"

"Door up here was open, but unlike him to leave something unlocked..." Kyle was keeping his voice quiet, standing and watching as they started chattering back and forth in a frantic way.

"Losing him!" One of them cried out. "We've got to get him out of this damn closet, and somewhere to work on him to stabilize him before we can move him." They gathered around and picked Deke up careful of each other and they were moving right for the bed. "Need to lay him out, he's lost too much blood and you need to move."

Well f*ck. This hadn't been a tantrum. And the last interaction they'd had was a horrible fight. Caitlin hurried out of the way and started to cry, reaching for Kyle.

There were more people filling into the room, and then someone shouted about a flatline and CLEAR! Deke's body jerked up off the bed. "We need to get him to the hospital if he's going to have any chance!" They finally used Deke's bedding to pick him up and start for the door. One of the medics was holding his throat as they left the room, heading for the ambulance with that makeshift sling. The first one that was into the room looked at Kyle and Cait. "One of you related to the vic?"

She looked at Kyle briefly, then cleared her throat. "Me. I'm his girlfriend. I'll go with you." Before she stepped away from Kyle, Caitlin whispered another message to him. "Find it. Take care of it." She sniffled, wiping the back of her hand over her eyelids, smearing blood all over her face. "Let's go," she told the medics, and followed them out.

"You can stay and answer questions," The medic said to Kyle before ushering Cait toward the waiting ambulance.

Kyle was nodding to Cait and frowned when he was held for the questions.

Caitlin waited until Max was gone before reaching for the phone attached to the side of the bed. The shaking was so bad she had to redial Kyle?s number three times.

"I'm on my way,? was how Kyle answered. He sounded annoyed. "Damn Watch kicked me out of my house while they are still investigating."

"Good," Caitlin croaked, gripping the phone tightly to steady her shaking hands. "Max was just here. You need to be with Deke and I need to leave."

"Where are you going? I just stopped to get you something to wear and to eat. Hospital food sucks."

"I'm turning myself in to the Watch. Max is setting me up for attempted murder. I'm trying to head him off."

"He what?" There was the sound of the engine revving and tires spinning as he leaned harder on the gas. "How's he doing that?"

Caitlin sighed deeply. "He shows up pretending to be sad about Deke. Then throws a bloody box cutter at me. Now he's got my prints."

"Yeah, but are your prints in blood? I mean was it wet?" He laid on the horn, and cussed someone in front of him. "Move your ass!" The rush of wind meant he took the time to roll down the window in case they could hear.

"No, it was dry. And it was only in my palm, but you know how he manipulates things. He created pictures of Deacon cheating on me. Who's to say he can't create fake evidence?" Her voice was low, a doctor had walked by the room. Middle of the night rounds. "Ky, he said Deke's gonna die. Told me I should have him turned or he's not gonna make it."

Kyle scowled--not that she could see. "I'm in the parking lot, I'll be up there in a few minutes." The phone clicked, and true to his word he walked into the room, carrying two bags. One with food, the other with a change of clothes for her. "How the hell would he know sh*t? Docs are sayin' he's stable, I asked on the way in here. Brought you something else to wear."

Thank God. Caitlin, tired though she was, lurched out of her chair and reached for the bag with the clothes in it. The ones she was wearing were stained with Deacon's dried blood and she wanted nothing more than to get out of them. "He's stable, yeah, but the numbers keep going down. They're not even sure he's going to wake up." Cait excused herself into the bathroom and changed quickly. A loud creak of metal could be heard, followed by a thud. There was no way in hell she would ever want to wear those clothes ever again, might as well just throw them away. Back in the room, Cait rubbed her tired eyes. "What am I going to do?"

"Eat." He shoved the food bag toward her. "You look like crap." Then his attention turned to Deke's monitors. The numbers were low, but going up and down. "I think Maxine was just trying to fuck with your head. When, not if, but WHEN Deke comes around again, you two better fix whatever the hell this is." Kyle looked like hell to. It was obvious that he hadn't slept much.

To be honest, she didn't much feel like eating. But maybe it would help stop the shaking. Caitlin picked some fries out of the bag, munching in silence. Then she frowned. "I didn't do anything, Kyle. Us breaking up was not my fault."

"I didn't say it was. I know he's an a**hole, especially when he's drinking." He didn't look at her as he spoke. "I've known him far too long to know he's not innocent." He finally glanced her way, "I just want you to try to fix it."

Caitlin sighed. She didn't know what she was going to do. Of course she loved him still--that fact had never changed. But things definitely couldn't go back to the way they were. She didn't want to talk about that, though ."What did the Watch have to say? Did they find anything?"

"Found out that we were bumbling around in there like Abbott and Costello. Nowhere had he been dragged, there was ash in the room we walked through from the deck, so apparently he got a piece of whoever attacked him. He smiled thinking that if his friend died, at least he went down fighting. Kyle turned and studied Cait a moment. "Why'd you break up with him?"

Of course Kyle was going to be nosy. Couldn't blame him...they were best friends after all. "He doesn't want me to have friends. He throws a fit every time I see them. I assure him up, down, left, right, and center that nothing is going on between me and Cris but I don't think he'll ever really believe me. Alex nearly dies and needs my help, he throws a fit because I'm busy for a couple days. He's like this constantly. And I can't stand it."

"He's got me." Kyle pointed at himself, then at Deke. "That's it... that's what he thinks everyone should have. Even as a kid, because of King, he wasn't really allowed to have friends. Friends to King were a liability." He explained quietly. "He offered me money if I'd just ignore Deke, and let him grow up with no one. After he saw I didn't really care about the almighty dollar, he told me to keep him safe, and my head down. You gotta understand how Deke was raised, Cait. If there was a problem, it was handled with money. He isn't used to a steady girl either, he's more of a three eff sort, but he's trying with you. That's why he'd get mad when he'd call for lunch, and you were already out with one of them or something. He made an effort in his mind, only to be shot down."

Brown eyes locked with Kyle's. She gave him a soft smile. Caitlin silently vowed never to tell Kyle what Deacon had said about him. He didn't need to know. "Ky, that's bullsh*t. I'm with him most of the time. He's got to learn that you need more than one person in your life. I need my friends. It's healthy to love other people. And yeah, I get that he had a hard life...but he's got to be willing to let people in or it's not gonna work between me an' him."

"Then you need to tell him. Make him talk to you...and don't back down. He is stubborn, but it's a front. He's scared."

"I tried!" She protested. But then a frown creased her tired features. "Probably wasn't a good idea while he was drunk, though. Which is another problem altogether mind you. But fine...I'll talk to him again when this is all over."

"He loves you, Cait...I know he does."

"I wish he'd act like it."

It was impossible to look up at him. If she looked at him, she'd cry. And so Cait watched herself talk in the backbar mirror. "When Alex called me to come get her, it was the middle of the night. I was with Deke and he didn't want me to leave. But I had to. He got mad, sent me this scathing text to have Kyle pick up his car after I'd gotten Alex and said we'd 'have a talk about it later'." Finger quotes for the last part. "So I did what he wanted, took care of Alex for a couple days, and then went back home to him." Lips pursed as flashed from that night bounced around in her mind's eye. "He was drunk. Said...a lot of stuff. It basically boiled down to him wanting me to choose between him and my friends. After he called me by his ex's name...I decided to leave." Cait's forehead dipped to rest in the palm of her hand, elbow firmly planted on the bar. "Like, I broke up with him."

Fingertips had taken to circling the Mark on the back of his neck, rubbing in the echo of raindrops, scratching at his hairline. He took in her words, the story as a whole and had his default expression not been a frown to begin with, the harshness of this moment's dour look might have been disconcerting. "Did he explain to you why it was that he wanted you to choose?"

"Friends are a liability, he said. You're both going to get me killed." She was frowning now, trying to decide if she should tell him the rest of what happened that night.

He didn't know what to say about that. Deacon's argument was valid, because he himself understood it. But so was Cait's for the very same reason. Pensive, he took another sip from his shot. "Has he not given consideration to the fact that because you know and have been in the company of vampires, that they may very likely get you killed, as well?"

"He's not being logical. Part of me wonders if he's jealous because he has no friends himself. He'd probably like it if I just never left the house again. Or better yet, moved in with him and never left his sight. He'd be a lot nicer if I did that."

He felt it, the slant of another gaze from down the bar. A two beat looked passed down to a woman several stools away who seemed to be eavesdropping, then he looked back to Cait. "I should think not. Men rarely are when we are drunk."

"You're telling me. Not two seconds after he locked the door behind me, I heard his gun go off."

"By the Angel..." astonished. His opinion of Deacon had been rather average up until that point. "What the hell did he do, drop the damnable thing?"

"Of course, I'd just gotten done leaving my key on the table and had no way of getting back inside. I was screaming, he wasn't answering. It took me and Kyle a good ten minutes to find a way into the house.?

"Are you... experiencing issues with Vampires?" The eavesdropper interrupted with a soft-spoken question.

?There was..." Caitlin stopped talking, gaze shifting over to the woman and it occurred to her that they weren't alone. Anyone nearby could hear everything she was saying. Cheeks flamed brightly.

Her query busted into Cris? train of thought. "Not at the moment."

Caitlin didn't know who this chick was. And after Max's threats, her senses were on high alert. A quick shake of her head was her response to Almost. "N-no. I've nothing against Vampires. No issues with them whatsoever. Everything's fine."

"If..." glancing between the two women. "If you'll excuse us," to the stranger. Scarred hand laid atop the bar beside her coffee mug, he leaned in toward Cait, so the curve of her dark head would hide the movements of his mouth from the other woman as he spoke. "A bit more privately. Yes?" Drawing back, he moved out from behind the bar. He hadn't paused to wait on his way toward the door. Shotglass captured between callused fingertips.

Slipping off her stool, she sent the woman another guarded look before following after Cris. Please, please, please don't let her be one of Max's goons.

The porch smelled like wet stone and wood and the metallic crackle of lightning. The rain had let up enough to provide a comforting ambience. He held the door for Cait.

She was right behind him and made a beeline for the swing. Brown eyes made a quick sweep of the entire porch as she sat down to verify that they were alone. Had Max not gotten involved, she wouldn't be fussed about anyone listening in on her relationship issues, but there was a lot going on that factored in now. "I slipped in his blood," she whispered, hugging her arms around herself.

He had not been of the mind to prompt her, leaving the choice to continue the tale up to her. He drew the door closed and as she took to the swing, he took to the support beam in front of it with his back to the street, to the rain, and his gaze trained down on top of her dark head. "Is he dead?"

"No." The word was practically inaudible. Caitlin cleared her throat and tried again, succeeding. "No. He's not dead. But something tried to kill him." Since he hadn't sat next to her, Cait tipped over to lay across the entire swing. "We don't know exactly what happened. I ended up finding him in his closet, trying to get into the panic room. He was delirious and fired his gun at me when I opened the door. Obviously he missed. There was just...so. much. blood." The brunette shook her head, trying to rid the mental picture from her mind. Goddamn this story was dragging on. She inhaled sharply and plowed on, determined to get it over with. "By then the Watch had shown up. It wasn't a bullet wound. He'd had his throat ripped out by something, we think. Probably a vampire," that last sentence whispered. "So now he's in the hospital and they don't know if he's going to wake up. And Max is going to set me up for attempted murder." She was skipping details, crucial ones, but laying there on the bench...the exhaustion was warring with the caffeine in her system.

The back of his jaw tightened with each passing moment. He took in a breath and let it out, finished his whiskey and set the empty shotglass on its rim on the porch railing. He heard the fatigue in her voice, and he did not want to be caught with the responsibility of carrying her somewhere. For both their safety. "Deacon is a f*cking idiot. A mundane, f*cking idiot." The slap of his tone was meant to wake her up.

"I know," she responded, sounding defeated. Whether he could see it or not, a lone tear dripped out of her eye, rolled across the bridge of her nose and splashed onto the swing. Caitlin sniffed loudly, wiped her eyes and sat up. Thankfully, she was too tired to cry anymore. "So yeah. That's been my week. Thought Alex died. Thought I was killing her by not taking her to a healer. Waited two days still thinking she was going to die from internal bleeding or something. And now this. It's been f*cking amazing."

Alex's choice to leave his own involvement out of the event had to be respected. Nothing would come from Cait's discovery of it. Exhaling, he broke slowly out of his lean and he had meant to say something to her, but instead he took his place at her side. The swing's wooden slats creaked with the cautious application of his weight. "Does Alex know any of this?"

"No." Lazy shake of the head. "I hadn't planned on telling anyone anything but...I don't know. I had to get it out."

A sliver of him took selfish pride in that. It had no basis, no place, and was completely unwarranted. But it happened. Head turned, he looked over her smaller, darker figure. "How have you not brought a healer to him...?"

"They've done what they can. He lost too much blood, though. It's affected his other organs. Whatever hurt him did something...I don't know what. Nobody knows anything. He's not responding well to any of the treatments. Still hasn't woken up." Then she dropped her voice rather low. "I'm not even positive it was a Vamp. He's got wards all over that house. He told me they couldn't get in there."

"Healers have done what they can?" Blinking. "There are several more beings that have the ability to rip out a mundane's throat, Cait. Especially if they were aware he'd warded against leeches and not their kind. I've knowledge of at least two Warlocks in this town, one Wizard---and I've the ability to get in contact with another in New York." Scarred fingers slid together until his palms met. "Whatever aid you need, Cait, it is yours. You know that, yes?"

"I know one, but I kind of used up my favor on Alex and besides, with Vampire's involved, he's not going to help." For the first time since the start of her story, she peeked up at him briefly, then dropped her gaze back to her lap. "Thanks, though. I don't think there's much more anyone can do. We're just kind of waiting now. But I appreciate it."

"If I've the ability to see him, I will at least be able to take a picture of what his wounds look like. That might help them." Brows drew together tight over his eyes. "If that is what you think is best, I will not interfere."

She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Then her phone chirped and Caitlin was alive in a flurry of movement. The device was yanked from her back pocket. Wound up like the string of a kite she was, only to deflate a little after reading the message on the screen. "Kyle's wondering where I am. I'll get a picture of it for you next time they change the bandages. Ky's kind of in mama bear mode and won't let anyone he doesn't know come around." She typed a quick response and slipped the phone back in her pocket.

He did not know Kyle, the shadow of the porch hid his apathy well. "I should think not. If this happened to Deacon while he was in his own home, he has very little chance in a location, and in a state, not under his control." It was the man's own fault, but Cris kept that slice of opinion to himself.

A good thing, too, because what he did say didn't help Caitlin in the least. She just nodded silently and stood, raking both hands through her still damp hair. The brunette hovered by the stairs, willing herself to turn around and look her friend in the eye. She did, but it wasn't for long. "Thanks for listening, Cris. I'll text you."

Nodding, a slight forward lean put his Marked forearms on his knees. "Anytime." He meant to watch her as she made her way down the street.

"You don't know what? What were you going to say?"

Kyle just shrugged wide shoulders. "I don't know if he's going to pull through." He looked back at Deke, even his eyes had stopped moving behind his lids. He wondered if the man was breathing or the machine was just making his chest rise and fall. It had been a chaotic scene while Cait was away.

"He just needs a little longer. His body is tired. He's...he's gone through a lot, Kyle." The legs of her chair made an awful scraping sound as she dragged it closer to the bed and reached for Deacon's hand. "He has to make it."

He watched her with the chair and then taking his hand. A lot? He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was sloppy and if he didn't make it, Kyle did what he could. "Has to?" The words were a curious choice, maybe there was more to her thoughts, or something that Deacon had to do.

No, just the wishful thinking of a girl in the throes of love. A girl who's never loved anyone else. A girl who foolishly believed she could fix someone who was broken. "I don't want to start over. I want him to get better. Get some help. Clean up his act. I want us to be happy."

Clean up his act? Kyle coughed but covered his mouth with his hand. He'd seen Deke put himself through hell with booze and whatever else he got his hands on and still be raring to go. "So what, like rehab?" He glanced back at Deke, then at her. He still wondered about the 'has to'. "Anything going on that I don't know about?"

"Maybe? I don't know. It might help with the drinking. He turns to that stuff too quickly." So did her friends, actually. Cait smirked at the thought of trying to get Alex into Rehab. Kyle's second question made her lift her gaze. "No...what do you mean?"

"Uh," He pushed his hand through his dark hair and shook his head. "I don't know, anything?"

Caitlin stared across the bed at him, weighing her options. It would be nice to tell someone. She hadn't been able to get it out to Alex or Cris yet. The silence stretched between them, growing in length, weakening her resolve. "You can't tell him."

Sh*t. His eyes fell on Deke again, before looking back at her. "They say he can still hear you, even though he's not responding."

Her lips mashed together purposefully at that, gaze shifting to Deacon's face as tears sprung to her eyes.

Kyle stood up and moved around the bed to her side, kneeling down to wrap an arm around her. He wasn't good at comforting, but he would offer...then refill that tiny water glass. "It's okay." He slid an arm around her narrow shoulders.

His small act of comfort was enough to break the dam. The tears rolled down her face then and she leaned into Kyle's embrace. "It's not okay!"

That wasn't what he expected, but still his big hand moved on her shoulder opposite him, rubbing lightly and squeezing gently. "Well, I didn't mean that, but I mean like you can talk..."

"He can't know," she whispered, then sniffled loudly. "If he pulls out of this, he's got to clean up his act for himself. Not because of a--" Caitlin sucked in a ragged breath, trying desperately to keep from losing control of her quiet sobs. She'd felt so alone since all this happened. "Not because of anything else."

Kyle stared at her. She was lying to him, at least that's what he felt. "You aren't tellin' me something." He hooked her chin with a big finger to get a better look at her eyes. He could usually tell by watching someone's eyes if they were lying.

Men could be seriously clueless. If a woman had overheard, she'd know exactly what Cait meant. Brown eyes stared into Kyle's. "I think I'm pregnant. I'm afraid to take a test," she whispered, suddenly looking more terrified than upset.

His mouth fell open, he was expecting it, but to hear it was something else. "You should really find out." Deke a dad? That too was mind blowing. How he avoided it all these years was a miracle in itself. He still watched her big, brown eyes, even shrink-wrapped in tears he could see what Deke liked about them.

Her lips quivered. "He's not ready and neither am I. I don't want to know. I don't want it to be true. I don't want it at all." Hearing her inner-most thoughts out loud made her feel like a terrible person. How could she not want a baby with the man she loved? She'd pictured them happy and married someday. With kids, plenty of them. It's the one thing she's always wanted in life. But this wasn't how she wanted it.

He stared at her and nodded. "I know a doc, he's helped Deke out a few times." He couldn't believe he was offering that sort of information, but here he was doing just that. "Cash, and no one except you, him and The Almighty know." He was still watching her face. He didn't see her as one to give up this sort of thing, but things had been crazy with Deacon.

The thought of that made her absolutely sick. It was not an option she'd ever considered contemplating for herself. Cait pulled away from Kyle and wiped her eyes. "I don't think I could do that."

"You just said..." He shook his head. "Maybe I misunderstood." She was beautiful, and vulnerable. But she leaned back, and he felt like the villain.

"I know what I said," responding quietly, looking down at her folded hands in her lap. "I don't want this. But I just don't know if I could....c-could...." Cait paused to focus on taking a deep breath, trying once again to reign in her emotions. She'd done enough crying over the past week. No more. But that was unlikely.

"Could what?" He was curious to know what her train of thought was , and where it was heading.

"If there is a baby in there...I can't kill it. I'll give it away to someone who'd make a better mom. Someone with a partner who isn't a controlling alcoholic."

"I don't drink." It was quietly said, and mostly true.

"Liar," Cait smirked at him, naive enough to completely miss where this train was headed. "And what? You think Deke's just gonna let you raise his kid? In the guest house?" She shook her head. "I don't see that going over well."

"And if he doesn't get out of this bed?" He was still being a realist. She hadn't seen what he did.

She didn't want to think about that. Her eyes closed as the mere thought of Deacon being dead while she had to carry his child made her body physically ache. "I don't know. I don't know, Kyle. I'd probably still give it away. I'm not equipped to raise a baby right now. I'm already struggling to make ends meet."

"Where do you think his money goes?" Again he was trying to look her in the eye.

"There's no way his money's going to go to an illegitimate child." Eyes opening, swinging 'round to look at him incredulously.

It would go where Kyle said it would. He knew that he could take care of both of them, even if she didn't want to be with someone like him. "I didn't say that." Eyes flicked to her lips then her eyes again before he just leaned down and kissed her. It'd been a whirlwind of an emotional mind job and he wasn't even thinking about any sort of circumstances to his actions.

Caitlin saw it coming. That flick of his gaze to her mouth before leaning in gave him away. But the brunette was too shocked to do anything to stop him. Her thoughts drifted to everything they'd weathered together since Deacon was hospitalized. They'd spent a good deal of time together. He'd done his best to take care of her. They shared stories while sitting in the silence, waiting for Deacon to wake up. He was a good guy. He was caring and loyal.

She neither stopped the kiss, nor returned it. Memories still dominated her thought-process. There was something between them. It was undeniable. But it wasn't love. It was comfort. Familiarity. Caitlin's hand lifted to Kyle's chest, a soft touch at first but then she pushed him away.
"Stop," she whispered, looking at him. "I love him, Kyle."

He leaned back when she pushed. That wasn't expected either. "Holy f*ck, I'm sorry... I am, uh.. God I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Of course you love him." Color ran to his face then onto his ears as he made a show of checking the time. "Really, I should...uh go, maybe." He pushed the chair back, more to get a little breathing room and away from her.

"You don't have to go." She looked concerned and didn't want him to feel embarrassed. He'd made a mistake. It didn't need to define their friendship.

Water! That was the reason he moved close, so he stood up, dragging the chair with him toward the sink.

Idiot. He was beating himself up, over the bonehead move, then anger welled as he glanced over his shoulder at Deke. He was the idiot. Drinking, wasting his time and could be doing something that he never had. Kyle wanted to go to the bed and scream at his friend or at least punch him in the face. Instead he stood there, leaning heavily against the sink.

"Kyle..." lips pressed together as she watched him.

"Yeah, I know," His voice was quiet as he restrained himself from his actions. "The house should maybe get checked out or something."

She couldn't force him to stay, much as she'd like him to. "Alright," she said cautiously. "Just...make sure you come back. Ok?"

"Yeah." He picked his jacket from the hook on the back of the door and slid it on. He was going home to get a hot shower, a change of clothes and then he'd think about coming back to the hospital. "Call me if something changes." He reached for the door handle. "Sorry...again."