by Dylan Keefer
CHAPTER TWO
"He's dying." Prue heard her own voice. She was kneeling again, but this time, the person laying there was a small shivering boy with bloodshot eyes. He must have been in his teens, though he was extremely skinny, nearly emaciated. The boy wore ragged clothes drenched in blood from the giant wound on his neck and chest. There were scratches all over his arms and legs, and a giant one on his face. It was night, and the cold wind beat against her body in waves. She was shivering; she wondered how the boy felt, lying there on the cold hard ground. She was smaller than she was in the present, she must be in her teens, just like the boy, and her hair intentionally covered her face. A heavy cloak fell on her, followed by a pair of strong hands that cupped her shoulders. Prue stopped shivering, recognizing the scent of woodchips. She turned around and saw the dark-haired man. He smiled warmly up at her, but one could see the worry in his eyes. His eyes glided to the shivering boy on the ground.
Prue had never seen anyone look both so young and so old, so weighted down with worry. He tried to move her away from the boy, but she slipped the cloak from her own body and covered the boy with the cloak, rooting herself into place. The boy stopped shivering.
“Why even have the ability to help if you don’t use it?” Prue shivered. The man wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, kneeling beside her. He was not as warm as she expected, but the steady breathing and the light heartbeat helped her calm down.
“Alright, I’ll help. But we can’t do it here, they’ll see. We’d need to drag him into the forest. And then leave him after I’m done.” The dark-haired man spoke as if he knew that the words would make Prue object.
“But—” Prue started.
"What do you think would happen if we brought him home and saved him? Do you think people would believe that we saved him, or the first time he burned in the sun, they'd kill us?" He explained that carefully, waiting for her to understand it. He seemed like a parent explaining right and wrong to a child. He was gentle yet firm.
“I understand. But at least he’ll be alright once you do it, right?” Prue asked.
“I hope so.” The dark-haired man gave her one last squeeze and then got up, picking up the boy. Prue followed him into the dark forest she had just noticed was there.
The dark-haired man found a place under a tree where he dropped the boy on the ground. The boy was shaking again, but differently. The dark-haired man removed the cloak and handed it to Prue. She bundled it up in a ball as the dark-haired man used his claws to cut his wrist and fed his blood to the boy. The boy drank as if he hadn't seen any liquid in days; he even tried to bite the wrist to draw more blood. Then the dark-haired man revealed a long pair of fangs, ones that touched his jaw. He sank his fangs in the only part of the boy's neck not covered in wounds. The boy yelped, and Prue was yanked back in the vision.
Prue hit her head on something so hard that it cracked under the force. She also had a weight on her chest. She opened her eyes, her vision cleared, and Prue saw Rick and John’s confused and panting faces in front of her. John was on top of her, sitting on the abdomen, using his entire weight to keep her down, while Rick held her by the shoulders, pressing his entire weight on them. John also held her hands. There was blood in Prue’s mouth and on her hands. She swallowed it, and it was sweet and familiar.
“What happened? Let me go please, I don’t want to hurt you.” Prue chocked out, and the two men, after sharing a brief confused glance, let her go. She could hear that both of them were out of breath, and then barely got up on their feet. Prue scrambled to her knees and faced Charlotte.
Charlotte’s body thrashed around faster than humanly possible. The light was faint in her, barely even noticeable where the wounds were. Even Philip, who was attempting to pin her down, had no luck, and he got slapped in the face a few times. Milo was just sitting in the corner, not moving. He barely even breathed.
“Were you supposed to bite her?” Rick asked. It made Prue focus. The vision came to mind. Her instincts screamed at her. She needed to be near Charlotte. She needed to be near the new vampire, hold her and help her grow in this new world. Philip’s hands on Charlotte were annoying her.
"Yes. She needs to drink my blood, and I need to drink hers." Prue walked over and grabbed one of Charlotte's arms. Before Philip could growl out what Prue assumed to be a warning, she grabbed Charlotte's right hand and pinned it to the ground. The trashing diminished. Prue used her other hand to push Philip off Charlotte, and then she grabbed Charlotte's other hand. Charlotte's body stopped thrashing completely; now she took incredibly deep breaths. Philip got up and reached toward Prue.
"I know this is new to you. It is new to me too. But I did not hurt her. This is what needs to happen. If you touch her again, she will start thrashing again. You are human; you can touch her later." Prue didn't know why she was so certain of that. But she knew it, as deeply as one can know anything. This was supposed to happen, and she was supposed to be near this.
“So, you were supposed to bite her in the neck and drain most of her blood?” Philip spat out. He still sat on his knees, with his hand out but not touching Prue, even though if he tried, his strength wouldn’t do anything. And Prue was certain her instincts would scream at her to toss him into the nearby wall.
"Yes," Prue confirmed, then repeated. "She needs to drink my blood, and I need to drink hers."
"That is monstrous," Philip said. Prue had to agree. But, then again, she was a monster, so this was a moot point. Just then Prue realized how okay she was with that statement.
“But it’s working.” John interfered, pointing at Charlotte’s abdomen. He was still breathing heavily.
The wound had stopped bleeding. Prue felt a nagging sensation in her insides. As if something told her that if she didn't let go now, Charlotte would be lost. No one needed to touch Charlotte now. So, she did but didn't forget to grab Philip by the back of his shirt and drag him along with her. He tried to push his way to Charlotte, but Prue swung his entire weight around like a twig. Even his punch to the face didn't faze her; she just held on to him as gently as she could without letting him go or breaking him.
A scream tore out of the throat of the now convulsing Charlotte, and everyone around watched as the wounds on her body mended themselves at a speed Prue had not seen before. It was as if an invisible needle stitched them together. Skin and flesh grew to cover the bigger wounds without leaving a trace. Charlotte’s hands found the floorboards, and as her nails dragged along the wood, they grew, turning into long and thin claws that cut into the wood. The scream got lower and lower until it morphed into a growl, along with which came fangs, long ones, curving down to touch Charlotte's chin. Prue wondered if everyone else could see the warmth now. It was like a furnace, burning brightly, even giving Charlotte’s skin a light glow, flickering as a flame. The glow was strongest around Charlotte’s heart and abdomen, where the biggest wounds had been. There was strength in that warmth, it burrowed deep into Charlotte’s body and mind, and Prue could feel strings connecting that warmth to her own body. For a moment she asked herself if she had a soul, and if she did, if she had shared it just now.
Whatever it was, there was something that connected the two women now. Prue’s instincts were screaming like a proud mother, and she knew that if something attacked Charlotte right now, Prue would do anything to protect her.
The growl faded, and the thrashing stopped. The blood on Charlotte’s lips was gone, and the fangs and claws retreated in the body. Prue waited for a second in silence, before releasing Philip.
“Just don’t wake her.” She said. “She has to wake up on her own.”
Philip didn’t even look at her. He ran over, and the first thing he did was check Charlotte’s breathing. Prue could feel the steady in and out that signaled deep sleep and the occasional heartbeat. Philip put a hand on Charlotte’s neck, to check for a pulse. He stood there for a while. Prue strained her ears.
“Is she alive?” Milo finally spoke again.
Prue turned to look at him and was floored by what she saw. Milo had a bloody lip, and his face was wet with tears. Prue started to wonder if she gave him that. Then she heard Charlotte’s heart beat once again.
"She has a pulse, but it's very weak. Her breathing is steady, however." Philip looked up and stared at Prue. "She needs to rest." Charlotte released a small groan from deep in her throat. Prue walked over.
“I’ll pick her up and put her to bed.” She reached down and scooped her form up with ease. Her body was strangely still, with the occasional heartbeat. It made Prue feel nervous. She then felt sick when they passed by the room Charlotte had been attacked in. There was blood in there, and now Prue could distinctly sense that it was Charlotte’s. It was the same sweetness. It made her feel pain deep in her heart, and there was a part of her that wanted to find the person and rip their throat out.
The other bedroom was right next door, so the smell lingered. Prue carefully put Charlotte’s sleeping body on the bed, removing the blood-stained blouse she wore. Philip helped her find clothes and dress Charlotte, then stroked her hair as Prue covered Charlotte up with a blanket.
“What happens now?” John asked.
“Well, we wait for her to wake up. I think I need to stay with her.” Prue looked back. Something inside told her that she needed to be as close to her as possible. Prue decided to pay attention to her instincts on this one.
“I won’t let you stay with her.” Philip intervened.
"Philip." Milo's voice shook. He stood leaning near a wall, hugging himself. Rick was next to him, a fatherly worried air about him. "Vampires have enhanced strength. If she wakes up and has no idea how to control it, you need Prue there. She is the only one that can hold her back without hurting her. You'd either kill her or die."
"I'll stay in front of the door. I don't need to be inside." Prue added, hoping that would make Philip feel better. She would prefer if Philip wasn't in the room though because she didn't know if she could move fast enough to save him once Charlotte woke up. Prue had a feeling that Charlotte would wake up hungry. But she felt that if she said it, he'd start yelling.
"Come on doc; you need a glass of water and some clean clothes." John gestured to Rick, and they both took a protesting Philip away. He was too tired to fight them for long. Prue sighed. She wondered how long he'd been awake.
As soon as they left, she ran up to Milo. "Are you okay?" She reached out to him, but he moved back as if she was boiling water. She had enough sense to stop moving and not touch him. "Did I do that?"
"No, well, kinda. You tossed John away from yourself, and he elbowed me in the face." Milo seemed so slumped over that she wanted to hug him. But then he might flinch again, and she never wanted him to be scared of her. Prue assumed it was because he hadn't seen her that strong before. When she fought the vampire in the Davenport home, he was so wounded he probably couldn't see that well.
"Can I help?" She touched his face, and he froze. His breath hitched, and when Prue looked more deeply, she realized he was scared of her. She had a sinking feeling it wasn't just because of her strength. "What's wrong?" She took a few steps away from him, and his breath returned to normal.
“Don’t feel bad, I know you can’t control it.” He put his hands up. They were shaking and sweaty, so he put them back down.
“You’re scared of me," Prue whispered. She had to make herself not cry. She assumed he’d be uneasy, but not this scared.
“No, it’s just… you growled and bit her, then almost broke John’s neck by tossing him. I know you did it to save her, but now all I can see is that. I need some time, to get my memory of New York back. I need to see that Charlotte is okay.” Milo kept hugging himself, huddled in the corner, away from her.
Prue felt tears brimming up in her eyes. It happened. He saw her as a monster when she wanted to save his cousin. She took a deep breath, settling down. She wouldn't cry in front of him. It would make him feel even worse than he already was. It might make him touch her to comfort her, but he still would be scared and still see her as a monster. She didn't want to manipulate him. She wanted to run away, but she couldn't leave Charlotte alone. But maybe she could get Milo out of here.
“Charlotte might need blood when she wakes up. I know I did. I have to stay here in case she needs me, but can you go and get as much blood as you can?” She hoped her voice didn’t give away her pain.
"I can do that. I know where Charlotte gets it from." Milo nodded and left, a little too quickly. Prue stayed in the hallway. She couldn't keep it together anymore, so she leaned on the wall. Her knees gave out, and she slid down, curling up in a ball. Tears streamed down her face freely now, and she bit her lip so that no sound would come out. She spent weeks trying to be the best she could be, forge a new life and protect those that mattered to her, from people that chose to be monsters. She faced them and used her powers for good. She felt that she had found her place in the world, felt that people like her could be good. And now the one that mattered saw her as nothing more than a beast, and just because she chose to save a life and it looked too vicious. Would he feel this way if he saw what she did in New York? Did he feel the same way about her as he did the vampire that sliced him open? What if he was the one that she needed to turn? Prue managed to push that thought aside so that she didn't completely panic. She instead focused on the inside of the room.
There was something she could only describe as a string, connecting her to Charlotte. It felt as if the string was tied around her diaphragm. Right now, the string was loose, but Prue knew it had the ability to tighten. What would happen then, she didn’t know.
She thought back at the vision she had. It didn't feel like the others when it ended. She assumed it was caused by the turning, and when John and Rick yanked her back, it brought her back to reality. Maybe she could dive back in and see why she saw that. Maybe there was something she missed.
"You okay?" John's whisper brought her back to reality. He had taken off his blood-stained sweater and now stood in loose pants and a t-shirt. Prue searched his face for signs of fear. She couldn't find any. But maybe he could hide them well; he was a police officer. He had his hands in his pockets, and he just looked tired. She could see a shiny bruise forming on his arm. She must have grabbed him there.
“I’m fine.” Her voice was scratchy.
“You don’t seem fine. Do you want something? I mean do vampires drink anything? Besides blood I mean.” He gestured with one hand to what she assumed was the kitchen, because she could smell the food from here.
“I’m not a full vampire.” Prue felt the need to elaborate. “I’m part human. I don’t know which part though.”
“So, the amnesia wasn’t a lie.” John walked over and to Prue’s surprise, sat down right next to her. He was relaxed. His heart wasn’t beating too fast and his breathing was regular. He wasn’t sweaty, aside from the sweat from trying to hold her back before. “But I assume the college thing was.”
“I remember the 1600s because I was alive then. A man brought me here and told Charlotte’s family that they needed to keep me safe. Then he put me to sleep and left me here. Charlotte and Milo were just doing what their family had done for centuries. Take care of me.” Prue spoke slowly. It felt good to tell him all of this.
“So, you remember the day to day things, it’s just that your day to day happened to be 400 years ago. Was there a reason you woke up now?” John asked.
“I don’t know.” Prue looked at the floor.
“And the burglar was not a burglar.” John continued. He didn’t seem mad that they lied to him.
“Vampire. I threw it out of a window and someone shot it with an arrow. Charlotte told me to bury the body. She found me after I woke up.” Prue wanted to continue but she remembered the ambulance and stopped for a moment. John was not scared of her, and if she told him she’d killed two people, he might be. On one hand she didn’t want to lie, but on the other hand, she didn’t want to scare him. She needed someone to see her
as a person. Philip and Milo were enough. “I was hit by a car.”
"So, the name Prudence, it's not yours?" She could feel him staring at her, so she had to look up. He was smirking. She didn't expect that.
“It was the name of the grave I was in at the mausoleum. Since we don’t know my name, Charlotte let me keep it.” She couldn’t tell if he was going to laugh or run away. His heart steadily sped up though and that made her apprehensive. He didn’t seem mad that she had used him and didn’t seem disgusted at the fact he’d flirted with her. His voice didn’t have that tone now though. He had asked her direct questions, so she thought she could do the same. “Are you scared of me?”
“You? No. I’ve seen you jump when a pager went off.” John chuckled. “I was just thinking back to that time I helped you learn how to use a computer. I thought we had… a moment there. And then you got that weird nosebleed.”
"Nosebleed?" Prue frowned. Then she remembered. He was close, and she could sense his heart, and then her fangs grew. She buried her face in her knees.
“So, it wasn’t a nosebleed?” John asked.
“Why did you think it was a nosebleed?” Prue muttered through her knees. It muffled the sound.
“Because you covered your nose and mouth, and I could see the napkin turning red while you talked. I assumed it was connected to your amnesia or something. Charlotte just told me not to mention it because you were embarrassed.” John shrugged.
Prue couldn't help but laugh. "My fangs appeared, and I didn't want to scare you. They sliced my lip a bit. That was where the blood came from. And she was right; I was embarrassed."
"Ah, so that's why it was so easy for you to bite. I didn't see them when I tackled you." John said that so simply that Prue thought about showing the fangs to him. It would be nice to have someone react without fear to them. Even Prue herself cringed at them, even after she got used to them. She closed her eyes for a moment and urged them to come out.
