Water and Oil
Chapter 1:
He had always been an unflinching example of the rich and privileged douche-bag who she was sure was hiding the same-ol' neglected childhood-with-daddy-issues shit. Which made him, theoretically at least, not all that different from her own bubbly-blonde-pep-squad-pageant-queen-committee-freak neurotic with mommy issues.
Which all made it quite satirical that she was a vampire and he was a werewolf now. Talk about ruining their future plans of going on to live out the rest of their lives in shallow happiness that masked a deep-seated discontent while basking in the relative comforts of the lifestyle such as they were born to. Instead, now they were destined to live out the eternity that faced them in hunger, rage, and malice… ultimately dismantling into what she was sure would be an unrelenting monotony… totally uncool…
But being a vampire had some perks too, no doubt. It has made her… strong, certainly. Powerful? to a degree. Confident? Infinitely. But it wasn't the confidence that everyone perceived as such. In her case, it was the confidence to be as neurotic and insecure as she wanted. Which, surprisingly, was not as counterintuitive as it sounded.
The downside? The fact that she spiraled into these quasi-philosophical ponderings that had no clear objective and no end in sight. She hated Dr. Phil. She hated pop-psych. Hell, she had even hated the pretentious metaphysical musings of those fake high-schoolers in Dawson's Creek – with the exception of Pacey, of course. Pacey could tell her that the only true reality that existed was inhabited by a certain animated sea sponge that gained its fame from wearing square pants and she would have happily believed him without blinking. But she digressed. The point was that she couldn't abide the thought that what lay ahead of her was this barren flatland of her mind that seemed to be crumbling under the threat of an uncertain immortality by attacking itself. And its choice punishment - personal analysis. Oh, Lord, if she had any aim for the rest of her unnatural life, it would be to find a way to go back in time and kill that bitch Katherine before she had set out on her path to prove to everyone that she topped evil bitches everywhere… But the sad thing was, she was sure that even Katherine had her own story. Who the hell didn't, nowadays. She would love a villain who was evil just simply for the sake of being evil. Not because there was some poor sob story that was the backdrop of it all to somehow allow for excuses and entitlements…
Okay, she really needed to stop. This cynicism was totally unbecoming and it was driving her up the wall!
She heard a growl just then and glanced up from where she was perched in the dank outcropping of the cellar where he was shackled to the wall.
It was starting then… tonight would be the first night of the rest of his life… and all he had for company was a newly turned vampire mentally disintegrating from a premature and duly unwelcome existential crisis…
She would pay to have the raging hormones of teenagers again… to have every other issue that was any issue at all to be no more of an issue than how her ass looked in a particular pair of jeans or how much of her roots were showing or how adorable Matt was when he had that puppy-dog look in his eyes…
She had always been a sucker… and given what she was now, the irony of it all wasn't lost on her…
Chapter 2:
When his mother was going through her yoga craze, he had heard her recite a bunch of ancient eastern religion mumbo-jumbo. He didn't remember most of it, of course, but there was something that did stick with him. The Chakras. There were seven of them – the base, the sacrum, the solar plexus, the heart, the throat, the third eye, and the crown. He had never known that his memory was so strong, but there it was…
He could now feel each of those Chakras turning, isolating the pain to each region in turn while his body twisted and writhed, the wolf trying to establish its dominion over each cell. And the kicker was that it was just starting… he couldn't even imagine how bad he'll be howling in several hours' time when the wolf would try to take over completely.
When the pain allowed him a moment's reprieve, he wondered what sort of mutation this was that seemed to serve no real purpose at all. Unless, the whole purpose of this transformation was to test his perseverance in tolerating pain. Or maybe… maybe, the assumption was that anyone having the gall to kill someone also had the proverbial "thick skin" that allowed them to suffer through the torture of this night? But he hadn't killed anyone on purpose… not that there was any werewolf jury to make his case to… it didn't matter though… Someone had died at his hands. As much of a dick as he was, even he knew that what he was about to go through tonight wouldn't be enough justice for taking a life.
He wondered if anyone had died during their first time. He wondered what would happen if he survived tonight. Strangely enough, the possibility of death did not faze him all that much. He wondered, not for the first time, why Forbes was helping him. He wondered many things, not that it did him any good.
The pain struck him suddenly without warning. It was the chakra in the sacrum now, having moved up from the base. It contorted his body in half and was so intense that it cut off his power of speech for a few seconds. When it passed, he emitted the growl that had been stuck in his throat, although he couldn't help but feel cheated that it came out as a very pale imitation of the pain that had preceded it.
She was near him in a flash; there was some
advantage to being able to run at the speed of light.
"Tyler? Are you okay?" He heard her crouch down behind him gently and when he didn't respond, she took his head onto her lap and smoothed her palm over his sweaty forehead.
"Are you okay?" She asked again.
He tried to speak, but his voice came out so hoarse that he had to stop and start again.
"You know, Forbes. This pain is like thunder and lightning. By the time I make whatever embarrassing noise that I am making, the pain has already come and gone."
He could see that she didn't know how to react to what he said, so he helped her out by trying to crack a smile. It was not his best effort, especially because he had partially lost feeling around his lips.
"Don't worry Forbes. It's not too bad yet. You'll know when it gets really bad. That's when I'll be trying to tear your non-beating heart out."
And this time she did smile while she absently smoothed his hair back. He couldn't tell her how much that touch meant to him. It would be the only thing carrying him through the rest of that horrendous night when the pain got so bad that he wondered how his nerve cells didn't explode from the intensity. He had hoped for a certain level of numbness, maybe an out-of-body experience, even some hallucinations, anything to distract him from what was happening to him, but nothing like that happened. He felt it all… He felt it when he turned on her that first time, forcing her to leave the room and lock it behind, he felt it when he tried to claw his way out of his shackles and out of the cellar, he felt it when he couldn't run away and the animal in him stalked back and forth in that claustrophobic space, taking its rage out on the human body that it saw as its sole restraint.
When it was all over and the beast receded, leaving behind only his battered body and withered soul, the only thing he remembered aside from the pain was a hazy image of an angel who had smoothed his hair back. He didn't remember that it was her until she came back to him as the dawn broke through. And when she hugged him to her and once again gave him her nurturing touch while telling him that he had made it through and that he was okay, he finally did tell her the truth.
"I am not okay, Caroline."
Chapter 3:
How would this play out? How should this play out?
She was obsessing, she knew it, but she had been pretty good at not even thinking about it for the entire weekend. And that was saying something.
She will just pretend as if nothing untoward had happened.
Nothing Untoward had Happened.
Whew…
Nothing untoward had happened…
Boys were finicky. As soon as a girl so much as sniffed out an inkling of vulnerability in them, they inevitably chose one of three options: a) run away from you, b) try to reestablish their complete invincibility – usually through choice measures that proved beyond a doubt that they were not just vulnerable, but also dunderheads, or c) and this was the rare one and the mark of a man rather than a boy - those who faced the situation head-on, keeping the awkwardness factor to a minimum between both parties.
Given that she had gone through the boy's options, she figured that it was only fair to go through the girl's options. She can: a) obsess endlessly and break her own personal record of obsessing endlessly, b) ignore the situation completely, thereby making him confused and making her obsess even more, or c) same as the C above.
She took a deep breath. She would prefer option A, but what the hell, she was a vampire. Anything was possible.
She caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye just then and took another deep breath to put the much deliberated over option C into action.
He was walking in her direction. She paused by her locker for a few more seconds before closing it just as he reached her side.
"Hello Matt."
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Chapter 4
Matt looked surprised that she had talked to him and stood there floundering for a moment.
She wanted to jump in and say something to ease the awkwardness, but she stopped herself. No, they could do this without she being the one to always prod things forward or smooth over the rough patches or define the nature of their relationship.
"Hey…" he said, sliding his fingers into his pockets, rocking back on his heels.
Well, alright… so that was progress.
"How are you?"
He hesitated a beat before finally releasing a breath. "I'm alright…"
What was that? Three lines altogether?
"How was your weekend?"
"It was… so, so…" he paused and looked down.
A moment later he must have remembered his manners, because he looked up to return the pleasantry, "How was yours?"
Ah, how was hers? How was hers? Well, let's see. She had volunteered, during several particularly masochistic moments in her life, to be present for the transformation of their mutual play-pal since toddler years into a lycanthrope, who by the way had a precise fondness for sinking their venomous canines into bloodsuckers such as herself. In the midst of it all, she had found out that Tyler - with his rage issues and his classic dick moves of making out with both Matt's mother and his sister and any number of the other things that he has done over the years that has elevated him to the status of a stellar human being - was a surprisingly grateful werewolf.
By the same token of boyhood that she had attributed to Matt, there should have been some definite awkwardness between her and Tyler this morning. She hadn't seen him since dropping him off at his house on Saturday morning, after the night from hell. She had called his house on Saturday and Sunday to check in on him and his mother had told her each time that he was asleep. It may have been that he had been avoiding her, but she hadn't thought so. Particularly because his mother had appeared both surprised and concerned when she had told Caroline that Tyler could not seem to stay awake for more than an hour at a time before falling asleep for another six or seven hours straight. Mrs. Lockwood had also hinted her suspicion that this was the side-effect of some potent form of cannabis or maybe something stronger. Wolfsbane, Bourbon, Werewolf DNA… Caroline's mind had recited, while she pretended ignorance and gave the excuse that she and Tyler were working on a school-project together for asking Tyler to call her back.
But, no calls all weekend. Finally, this morning she had gone to check on him at the house. She had decided to skip the main entrance to avoid telling more lies to Mrs. Lockwood and had just climbed up a tree and jumped to his second floor bedroom's window-ledge.
The windows were open and she had crept as quietly as she could into his bedroom. As long as she had known him, there had never been a reason for her to come up here. And so she took a quick look around now to orient herself. It was a rather large one, not unexpectedly. She found his bed in the center against the left side wall. She walked over and stood there for a moment, watching him sleep. She was tempted to let him sleep and come back later to check on him again, but then reminded herself that he had essentially been sleeping for more than 48 hours.
"Tyler…" she called softly. He didn't move.
"Tyler…" she called again, gently shaking him.
And this time he did open his eyes. He appeared disoriented for a moment as he looked at her before sitting up in surprise.
"Caroline? What are you doing here?"
G'Morning to you too, Rip Van Winkle." She smiled.
"God, I can't seem to stay awake, Caroline. I am convinced that mom is going to call the doctor today if I can't figure out a way to take Red Bull intravenously and not fall asleep."
"Is this normal? I mean, do you think this is normal after the first time you change? Or, are you having something unusual happening to you?"
"I have no idea." He said as he shook his head and he threw off the covers to get out of bed. His legs gave out just as he stood up and she caught him.
"Careful!"
"Lord! How am I going to make it to school in this state?"
"Have you been this weak all weekend?"
"Weaker." He replied before he steadied his legs and started walking, carefully at first, but then with a normal gait. "This is a vast improvement. That first day, I fell off the bed when I tried to get out and had to crawl on the floor for fifteen minutes before I could make myself stand up. And by then, my body was so exhausted from the effort that I crumbled right where I stood and fell asleep on the floor."
"Why didn't you call me?" She asked, feeling an unaccountable anger swell up at the thought that he had decided to keep her out of the loop after what they had been through.
"What? And ask you to come to my house so that you can carry me back to bed? Come on Forbes."
"I have seen you worse!" She answered in agitation.
"You have seen me as a beast, not as an invalid!"
She must have looked taken aback by what he said, because now he walked back to her, still cautiously, as if he didn't really trust his legs to accommodate any sudden movements.
"Caroline… don't you think I have asked enough from you? The last thing you need is to babysit a werewolf pup because he can't seem to get his act together."
He said it softly and she could feel the true sentiments behind the words, but she still felt angry.
"If I remember correctly, I volunteered my help. You didn't beg me. And don't insult me with this macho act. This is not you trying to do one up over your buddies and prove that you are the alpha-male! This is you turning into a werewolf and not having any other person to go to to figure out how it works. What is it with you men? It's like a woman is never strong enough to help because your "man" crises are so huge that our puny little brains and frail bodies couldn't possibly be of any real use or assistance."
She turned away after she gave the whole agitated speech knowing that she was in complete overreaction mode. It was just that he had needed her before. It felt good to be needed. It was great to be needed, in fact. It was the only thing that kept her from thinking too deeply about what her life meant from now on. From giving into those irritating self-analytical loops that she was so prone to nowadays that made her want to poke her own eyes out.
She felt his hand on her shoulder then and turned around. Without warning, he hugged her. She stood there in shock for a moment, not knowing how to react. He didn't seem to be fazed by her lack of reaction and kept his hold around her until she hugged him back. And then he finally pulled back to ask with a smile, "Carry me back to bed, please?"
She felt her lips widen in a smile and hit him on the shoulder.
"Ouch. Careful Forbes!" He said, rubbing his shoulder.
"Oh my God! I am sorry. Did I hurt you really?" She tried to pull his hand away from his shoulder to rub it herself.
"Sucker!" He laughed out loud before stopping to add, "Shit, that's right. There's a pun there now. You are a sucker!"
This time she punched his arm in real. And while he rubbed his palm over his hurt arm in earnest, she was at the window again, climbing out as she called out, "That's a sucker for you! I will grab your assignments and be back this evening. You better be walking by then Lockwood!"
Chapter 5:
When she returned that evening, climbing in through the window again, he was nowhere to be found. She lowered herself to the floor and called his name softly, scanning the length of the room.
"Tyler…"
She felt him at her back at the last second and in a move that convinced her beyond doubt that her vampire reflexes were much stronger than her human ones, she turned around and pinned him to the wall. She loosened her hold immediately once her mind clicked into place from the temporary limbic response that had overtaken for an insane second, but clearly the hurting werewolf had recovered spectacularly, because as soon as her hold slackened, he pounced on her with enough force to knock her down.
"What the!" she exclaimed before she threw him off of her.
He came back, surprising her yet again, this time twisting her arms behind her from the back and pushing her against the wall.
"Tyler!" she called his name in agitation, no longer trying to fight him, but also not knowing what had gotten into him.
"Fight me back, Forbes." He whispered harshly in her ear.
"What?" She tried to shake off his hold, but not with much force.
"Fight me back!" He repeated, pressing harder on her twisted hands.
She pulled her hands out of his hold in a sudden motion that caught him off guard and turned around swiftly to twist him around so that she had him in a choke-hold from the back.
"Would that do?" she asked, tightening the crook of her elbow against his wind-pipe for emphasis.
She felt his taut muscles loosen for a moment and relaxed her hold as well, only to have him turn around and twist her arms behind her back – this time facing him - and press in on them, which in turn pushed her body to his.
She could feel her face starting to turn, the skin beneath her eyes tightening and her fangs elongating; her breath was coming in bursts and she tried to focus on just his dilating pupils as she fought to regain control.
He pressed on her hands with force again and she growled instinctively.
"There's my favorite vamp…" he said now, smiling, before he let go.
She took a few more deep breaths before she trusted herself to speak.
"Are you freakin' playing with me?" Her voice came out low and she was sure that it let him know how angry she was.
"Oh come on, it's only fair." He turned his back on her and walked towards the bed.
She rushed at him and knocked him onto the bed before twisting him around under her to pin his arms to the bed.
"What's fair? Was that some shitty joke for your personal amusement? 'Let's see how I can get a rise out of the vampire chick, just to get back at her for seeing me all vulnerable'?"
He was quiet for a moment. "It wasn't a joke."
"Then?" She asked when he didn't elaborate any further.
He didn't respond immediately, but he didn't move either. She realized that she was pressing down hard on him and started to ease up, but he stopped her.
"No, don't. The pressure feels good. I feel like I am going to jump out of my skin. I want… something… I don't know... Fighting you feels good. You are the only one strong enough that I know of who can fight me back now. Well, if only you would fight back…" he added with a smile at the end.
It took her a moment to absorb what he was saying and what he wasn't saying...
"You are not as strong as you were on Friday, Tyler. I can really hurt you now."
"I'll take that risk." He said easily.
"No you can't. What's wrong with you?" She got off of him and lay down next to him.
"I don't know… I don't know what's wrong with me…" he whispered now, not looking at her.
She didn't know what he meant, but she also knew that she didn't want to know anymore at this moment. So, she did what she always did when something made her nervous. She deflected.
"Did you eat dinner?" She asked, sitting up suddenly.
He shook his head and she got off the bed, pulling on his arm. "I am starving. Let's go see what your mom has stocked in the refrigerator."
He let himself be pulled up, but paused to ask, "If you are hungry, don't you need blood?"
"Why, are you offering me yours?" She asked with a deadpan expression.
When he looked taken aback and started to say, "uh…", she laughed.
"God, I am kidding! No, this is the human kind of hunger… when you really don't want food for sustenance, but just to be a glutton."
"Ah… I love that kind." He laughed and agreed.
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