Secrets and Pasts IIMature

She lifted her head from his chest, staring down at him. "Oh...Lazarus," she murmured, taking his hand in hers.

"Don't." He mumbled in reply, letting go of her hand.

"What?" She asked, somewhat taken aback from his movements.

"That hunter had every right to do what he did."

"No, he didn't."

"Yeah, he did."

"No. He didn't." She persisted.

"Melissa, I hurt him more than he hurt me."


"Lazarus, you can't take revenge when something goes wrong like that. It wasn't your fault!" She cried, realising how much she sounded like a hypocrite.


He shook his head. "I deserve more than what I got."


Melissa frowned. "Then where would that have left me?"


"It...I don't know." He swore, "I don't know anything."


She slapped him. "No! Lazarus wake up!"


"I am awake, Melissa." He snapped


"No! Lazarus, no. You're not. What you did, yeah, it was bad. But you weren't completely you!"


"Bad? Bad?" he pushed himself up and stared at her. "It was more than bad. I think this one goes a little beyond horrific! No one, not even him, should have to live through that."

She sighed, shaking her head. "So, he was allowed to come after you, torture you, and then try to kill you and me?"

"Can you blame the guy?"

"Yes, yes I can!"


"He can't take it out on others like this! He should know better!"

He sat up and stared straight at Melissa, searching her eyes to see if that was truly what she believed. 'You cannot tell me that you wouldn't be somewhat messed up after something like that if that was you?'
"I would, but I wouldn't take it out on others!"

He shook his head and glared at the other side of the room. 'People react differently to things like that, I suppose.'

"It's not right!" She growled

"It might not feel right," he muttered, "but it makes sense to him. And to me for that matter."

"Her eyes widened in disbelief."You believe you should be dead for this?"

"I certainly deserve to be punished for it."

"Right. And what would that punishment be?"

"Well do you not think I deserve to be punished for that?"

"No, No I don't! Not one bit." She placed a hand onto his cheek, forcing his head round to look at him, looking into his eyes. Looking for truth within his eyes, some part of her still disbelieving that Lazarus thought he should be punished.

"This is ridiculous. Now I know he's not just some hunter that got lucky finding me that he's after me specifically... He won't give up, Melissa. I have a feeling that moving abroad won't throw him off, only slow him down." He moved his head away and laid back down on the bed, closing his eyes.

"She looked at him and sighed, looking down at the floor."Right. Great." She whimpered. "So, is there any point in trying to be optimistic?"

"You can kill him, if you want, Melissa, but now I know what I did... I don't think I could.'

"I won't kill him either! But what does that mean? We move, you get no sleep, we get hunted then die together?"

He swore, struggling with himself. "No. I don't know. I don't want to be the reason for any more deaths... I..." didn't know what to say, to think. He stared up at the ceiling, his hands curled into fists by his sides.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Lazarus, would you like to go for a walk?" She whispered.

"Okay." He got up from the bed, looking at her with a slight smile.

She took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly, looking down at the ring on her finger. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to argue and I know this must be hard for you."

"It's okay." They made their way downstairs and out the hotel door. The night air was cold and Melissa could tell it was going to rain soon. The thin, moist air cleared her mind, allowing her to think.

"When?" She thought, glancing at their hands as she dragged him from their room. "I know you probably don't want sympathy or empathy but, I know what you're going through."

"Yeah. You killed that hunter's wife, I know. But that hunter didn't then spend the rest of his life trying to kill you, did he?"

"No, he jumped off a bridge in front of his daughter." She noted.

"And as far as I know, you haven't killed children, either..."

"I've killed... many." She sighed. "Who is not important, nor when." She let out a low snarl. "It's not important."

He stopped and faced her, putting his hands on her shoulders, looking down into her eyes. "Adults may not be quite as innocent, or as important... but children? Have some heart."

"I don't." She snarled. "Drop it. Now."

Lazarus' face set in an unhappy mask of despair and anger as he shook his head, dropping his hands from her shoulders. They began to walk again.

"I killed my daughter okay? My daughter!" She choked on the words, her daughter. "Now drop it." She sighed, trying to calm her voice.

He flushed and looked away, ashamed. 'Sorry,' he whispered.

"I know what you're going through." She repeated, taking his hand again. "Please. Don't, don't think you deserve punishment. It's the past."

"Crap. I'm so sorry I..." he paused. "Daughter?"

"Yeah..." She sobbed, stopping their walking again.

"I thought we were to have no secrets between us anymore? You..." he cursed and took a step back.

She looked at the floor when he mentioned secrets, then up at him when she saw his feet move back."What?"

"You not only kept this a secret," he began to laugh, an edge of hysteria in his voice, "which by the way I wouldn't have minded, but you lied! You tell me I was your first? First!" he laughed some more, finding that words were beginning to fail him.

"I can't have been. You had a kid! And unless I'm much mistaken, making kids needs sex."

"She wasn't my blood." She looked at the floor. "She was abandoned, on our doorstep, I... with the help of my maid; we raised her without Logan finding out. She, she thought I was her mother." She smiled, falling back so she sat on the wall. "Even when she knew the truth, she still thought of me as her mother." A tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it away. "And to me, she was my daughter."

Lazarus hesitated, thrown by the things that had been revealed to him in the last few hours. "Sorry," he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry."

"My first victim..." she trailed off. He sat beside her and offered her a hand to hold silently. She took it, resting her head on his shoulder. "But. That's the past and it was buried." She laughed slightly, glaring at Lazarus. "We have worse problems."

"You could have fallen in love with anyone. Yet you fell in love with the most temperamental, over reactive, over emotional idiot in the world."

"Yeah. Sucks don't it." She giggled, trying to hide the sorrow in her voice.

He smiled wearily. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She smiled. "Lazarus. Don't be."

"I am. I upset you."

"Don't be stupid." She sighed. "You did nothing. Nothing I didn't expect from anyone normally."

"Oh, I'm stupid now?" he laughed, but the hysteria was gone from his voice now.

"You always have been." She sighed again.

He glanced at her sideways. "Thanks." he said dryly

"You're welcome." She smiled. "Four hundred years builds up a lot of skeletons hmm?" She asked somewhat rhetorically.

He nodded wordlessly and looked up at the sky, watching the clouds slowly crossing it aimlessly wandering.

"So, seeing as I have divulged all my secrets and past, your turn."

He turned to her and looked at her with surprise. "What do you think there is to tell? Not like I have anything like that to tell..." He muttered, uncertain.

"Anything. We have all night." She laughed.

"Umm... is there anything you'd like to know?"

"Have any brothers or sisters?" She asked, starting off, "What about your mother and father? What were they like?"

He gazed back up at the sky, attempting to think that far back. "I had... an older brother and sister. Michael was executed for stealing or something stupid like that, and Annabelle... I don't know what happened to her... my mother was really quiet, just did what father told her to all the time. He was... not the nicest guy."

"What happened?"

"What happened when?"

"With your father. How come he wasn't so nice?"

He shrugged. "I just didn't get on with him."

"Oh I remember. He kept trying to make me play shows when I was about sixteen to make him money. We fell out over it."

She nodded, deciding not to push it further. "What about your sister? Was she nice?" She asked, thinking it was the safest option.

"Yeah. I wish I'd been around more for her. She looked after me a lot after Michael died."

"Oh I'm sorry." She sighed, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "So, your father, was that how you started to play piano?" She let her curiosity take control and she hoped it wasn't a touchy subject.

He returned the embrace with a smile. "No, we salvaged a rich person's old piano and repaired it. It was always out of tune, but Anna had always wanted to play so badly, so we got it for her. I was... seven, I think, when I decided I wanted to play. It only became the source of arguments when I was a teenager."

"And the source of love much later." She smiled, meaning Gabriel instead of herself.

"Mmm, and salvation, when you knocked on my door because of it," he smiled.

"Hmm, that worked out well." She giggled sarcastically.

He nodded. "You could have knocked on any door, there were plenty to choose from. But you chose mine."

"I..." She paused. "You were the next one down from mine." She shrugged.

"There's a door on the other side of yours as well," he laughed

"This leads to the end of the corridor. I thought it more productive to go the other way." She noted, intelligently.

He grinned. "So it does. Yet I don't think you got any further than my door, did you?"

"No. Why?"

"Just an observation."

"Hmm, no I didn't. I was enthralled by y...something."

"Oh?" He asked with a small smile.

"Something." She blushed, shaking her head softly.

His smile became a wide grin. "By... a dog?" he laughed

She hit him playfully and her head nodded slightly. "Maybe."

"A wolf in a human's skin, then," he said, rubbing where she hit him

She growled and hit him again. "Drop it." She sighed, cupping her head in her hands so the deep pink blush was covered.

"I didn't know I was so embarrassing," he grumbled, but then dropped it, afraid she was going to hit him again

"Well, yes. I hate to admit it but yes. I was enthralled by a drunken pianist. A wolf, a dog."

"I'm not a drunk anymore."

"No you're not but you were," She sighed, "a wolf..." she muttered.

"Huh, I thought you'd gotten over what I am?" he asked, hearing her muttering about him being a wolf

"Yeah, it's just so...unlikely."

"Yeah... I know. I remember opening the door and smelling vampire when you turned up. I think that was more likely to make my heart stop than your looks," he laughed

"Yet you still consider me your salvation"

"Of course." He frowned. "Not many people would stick around a drunkard the way you did, especially knowing what I am."

"I'm not most people," she grumbled.

He rolled his eyes. "Not many of my own kind would have stuck around, let alone a vampire."

She shrugged. "If it makes sense, I try not to think of myself as a vampire."

He remembered the times she had refused to feed, reacting the way a human might if they were told to drink blood. "yeah."

"Hey have you ever drunk blood?" She scowled, catching his thoughts

"Not on purpose"

"Then you know it tastes horrible. It's not me that likes the taste; it's the... beast for lack of a name."

"Makes sense"

She kissed his throat softly. "Do I ever... scare you?" She asked, curious.

He shook his head. "No, not really. It's not like you've been the one to try and drink from me, is it? I've been the one to make you drink."

"Yeah. Thanks." She grumbled.

"No problem," he smiled.

She elongated her fangs and looked at him, retracting them again. She repeated this a few times and sighed. "It's going to rain, in about a minute."

The End

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