"Can you hear me? Can you feel me in your arms, holding my last breath. Safe inside myself are all my thoughts of you. Sweet raptured light, it ends here."

— 'My Last Breath', Evanescence.

— 

Frank couldn't precisely remember the moment he surrendered to slumber. He'd been encouraged to lay back against the backseat of an unfamiliar car, a pillow and blanket awaiting him that his new friends had brought along to accommodate him, and the moment Frank's head made contact with the plush surface, the rest was a blur. He supposed a certain amount of emotional drainage caused his physicality to wither, his body aching for much-needed sleep.

The next moment he opened his eyes, he squinted at the pale blue and gray light from the sky pressing against darkly tinted windows. The shade obscured by the dark filter of the glass reminded his sluggish brain of the phases of a bruise or the darkened skin of a ripe blueberry. However subtle it may have been, he found himself struggling to adjust to the shift in lighting after meeting with darkness behind his lids for an undisclosed amount of time. Once Frank adjusted, he focused on the subtle rocking motion of the car, the significant warmth that worked its way into the vehicle with the trick of the heater vents. At some point in the night, he'd overheated and the blanket laid in a tangled heap around his feet. He instinctively dislodged his legs around the nest of fabric and winced at the stiffness in his body, leaving him to wonder how long he'd slept in the same position and for how many hours his slumber lasted. A wave of confusion rested heavily over him and he sought out to break through it.

Slowly, Frank pushed himself up, looking over to the front where Mikey and Kristin were situated in the driver and passenger seats, still and quiet, though on guard as was required of them. Grogginess invaded his mind one minute, the next it was eviscerated as recollection brought him to a state of alertness.

Kristin twisted around in her seat, her eyebrows raising above her disarming faint smile. "Morning, Frank."

"Morning." His voice came out hoarsely from the thickness of sleep lingering in his throat. Frank looked out the window uneasily at the bustling city life and tall building reflecting the strong sunlight. "Where are we?"

"We're entering Spokane. We're headed towards a hotel right now, we're gonna stay there until we receive another update from either Gerard or Donald."

Frank inhaled a quick gust of air at the mention of his name, a curl of longing aching in him. "You haven't heard anything from them?"

"Just that Stefan's caught onto the false scent trail and he's currently following it." Kristin's mouth tilted sympathetically. "Nothing from Gerard. I suppose he'll be reaching out to you first if he has anything to share."

Frank should hope so. He breathed out the softest sigh of relief that thus far, everything was going according to plan and choosing to sleep didn't welcome him with unwanted news to awake to leaving him to regret his decision. He wondered how long Stefan would be fooled, knowing at any second, he'd discover the truth and scour the earth in search of Frank. The cutting edges of his anxiety rushed back, but he willed their thorned corners to stay low, it was only the start of the day and he refused to collapse less than halfway into it.

"Okay, now I'm gonna be checking my phone every three minutes." Frank sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair and catching Mikey's eyes in the rearview mirror. "What time is it?"

"Six in the morning." Kristin glanced out the window, a strange nostalgia overcoming her expression. "Merry Christmas Eve, Frank."

Frank almost startled out of his own skin. As he followed Kristin's gaze, he found a towering Christmas tree nestled in the center of the square surrounded by opening shops lines of people stood before in hopes of getting first servings on their late Christmas shopping. Time had fogged over and become undetectable through all the chaos of the past several days that it completely evaded Frank's mind that the holiday everyone outside of his inner circle had been anticipating all month finally arrived. A pang spread through his chest of guilt and sadness as he thought back to the state he'd left his mother in. On Christmas of all holidays. He thought about the presents he hadn't gotten the opportunity to wrap, the plans they loosely created together for a quiet Christmas, and his friends who'd asked to borrow him for the second half of Christmas day for a gathering of their own. Secret Santa, a tradition Frank had never partaken in, but had been all too eager to participate. Gift giving, as long as the gifts weren't going towards himself, was a cherishable notion he enjoyed.

Glancing at his phone, Frank found several text messages from his friends asking if he was still down for their plans, and even more texts and missed calls from both his mother and father— even two from his step-mother worriedly pleading for him to answer his father's calls. Frank swallowed down the lump in his throat and pocketed his phone, settling down against the seats again and staring numbly at the ceiling until they reached the hotel.

Kristin checked them into their suite while Mikey unloaded their items which primarily consisted of Frank's bags. Washington had a similar atmosphere to Oregon in a sense of weather and green, but there was an undercurrent of intense energy running through the ground due to the business of the streets passing the ring of hotels they stood in. Frank reckoned if he pressed his palm flat against the ground, he'd almost feel the charge of restlessness humming beneath his skin, twirling up through bones and sinking into his brain in a slow fizzle. This hotel in particular seemed like one of the more expensive types Frank was always curious about, but he wished he could've gotten familiar with them under different circumstances.

Frank was uncomfortable and his bladder was bursting by the time they exited the elevator and swept down the hall towards their room. He barely set down his things before he charged for the restroom, and once he collected himself in the privacy behind a closed door and spruced up his appearance, he strolled out to take in the huge suite that was divided into two sections. One would be inhabited by Mikey and Kristin while he kept the other side to himself, a wall with two open French doors serving as a division. Both had their own bathrooms equipped with fresh towels and a large tub beside stand-in showers, complimentary toiletries stacked nearly on the marble sinks. The beds were massive and done with fluffy white duvets matching the sea of pillows piled on. Both sides were given means of entertainment such as televisions and free internet access, a fireplace seated in front of couches and a desk propped by the wall stacked with a collection of magazines as a last resort cure for their boredom which was bound to come while they waited for news.

"How are you feeling?" Kristin asked after Mikey left the room to retrieve a couple of nutritional necessities from a nearby store, pulling Frank from his observations. "Are you hungry, do you think you need more rest? I can't imagine sleeping in a cramped car seat is very comfortable."

Frank felt too anxious to think of eating or sleeping, but he couldn't deny the rumble building in his stomach from skipping dinner and the dryness on his tongue. "Um— I should probably eat and drink something."

"There's breakfast being served downstairs, unless you'd prefer to order room service." Kristin picked up a menu from one of the desks, arching one questioning eyebrow. "I could always call Mikey and ask him to grab you something from the store for now."

"I'd rather eat in here. No need to bother Mikey, I'll just order something." Frank politely took the menu from Kristin's offering hand, stewing in awkwardness, and retreated to the foot of the bed he'd claimed to leaf through the pages.

To his surprise, Kristin came and sat beside him, sighing as she took in the size of the room. Her eyes were constantly filled with a swarm of undetectable emotions. Frank could only imagine what it was like to be trapped between the present and the future, constantly conscious of other's choices and being heavily relied on to keep tabs on what would happen to those close to her. Her most prominent emotions came through sometimes, such as now as she turned to Frank with a solicitous look.

"You know you can trust us to protect you, right? I know you'd much rather be with Gerard, I'd hate to be separated from Mikey if I ever got caught in the middle of something like this. But like Donald said, you're our family now, too." Kristin spoke in a liquidy warm voice pressing forward her reassurances that Frank would certainly take gratefully and with ease in any other situation. No matter what was said to him, Frank didn't think it possible for him to settle down and allow the Way family to handle the carnage without worrying about it the least bit.

"It's not that I don't trust you guys. I just . . ." Frank sighed, setting down the menu in his lap. "I don't trust Stefan. I know you can see the future, but sometimes last minute decisions don't give people enough time to guarantee things won't go horribly wrong."

"I know vampires are a new thing to you, but one vampire against a group is basically setting up the other for a definite loss. You haven't seen Gerard on the hunt. He's more than capable of putting up a fight."

"I don't want him to fight. Even if he wins, he can get hurt." Frank sounded distant as his mind wandered into scathing visuals nearly impeding the waves of hunger tightening his stomach. He'd always been told love ached in many ways, but he hadn't known the extent until now that he felt he could spiral into nausea at the mere thought of harm so much as thinking of setting a finger on Gerard.

Kristin's patience was eternal even as Frank momentarily worried his fussing was becoming a nuisance. After all, a person could only provide so many reassurances and his fear was to become more of a burden than he felt he'd become. He was surprised by the gentle touch to his hand, the coldness of her skin seeping into the warmth and allotting a wave of Kristin's sympathy to trickle into Frank's bloodstream.

"Vampires can't get hurt in ways humans do. And . . . well, there's some grisly facts about the ways we can recover if anything does happen to us, but I'm not going to put those images in your head." Kristin's nose scrunched up faintly, eyes darting away as they held the details of the gruesome details she spoke of but refused to indulge.

Frank's blood drained from his face and left a ghostly pale slate behind. "Oh god. Do you . . . grow limbs back or something?"

Kristin fluttered her hands in the air, squeezing her eyes shut tight for a second before they opened and held Frank's anxious stare with a concilitating look fixed on her face. "My job is to make sure you're not keeling over from stress, Frank, so allow me to do exactly that. Pick something from the menu and I'll call to order it for you."

Frank opened his mouth to protest at first, but resolved the matter on his own by deciding it was better if he didn't know the issue with vampire healing unless he craved for his worst case scenario visuals to grow much bleaker. He swallowed hard, plucking the menu from his lap and leafing through the pages in search of something that appetized him.

Room service arrived shortly after Kristin ordered it, served on a clothed cart carrying a platter covered in a plastic lid preserving the heat. The scent of french toast drizzled in syrup and dusted in powdered sugar surprisingly allured Frank in his bundled up state and he let the heat of the plate soak into his hands for a moment before he dug in, taking breaks to sip from a glass of crisp orange juice. All the while, Kristin sat on the suite sofa, staring blankly and unfocused far ahead as she lost herself in flickering paths of visions, searching for possible changes in decisions or drastic failures in their plan. Frank was uneased by her stillness, the way it didn't seem she took a single breath in her state, as if she'd turned to stone, a permanent state of intent focus trapped between alternate fragments of the future only she could investigate. Frank couldn't get a feel of her emotions when she was far, making the silence thicken and his questions grow, but he assumed Kristin would be merciful enough to keep him updated if there was anything valuable to be shared.

"I can sense your worry from across the room. And I don't have anything close to Mikey's gift." Kristin suddenly broke free of her trance and switched back in time to toss a breezy smile in Frank's direction, her head tilting ever so slightly.

Frank nearly jumped. He dropped his fork onto his nearly empty plate, redness flooding to his face and evoking a soft chuckle from Kristin.

"Sorry. I just . . . have you seen what you look like when you're keeping track of the future?" Frank hoped he wasn't speaking out of line since he wasn't as familiar with Kristin.

Thankfully, no offense was taken. Kristin nodded, rising from the sofa gracefully and striding towards the bed to perch on the very edge of it, her hand smoothing out the most subtle wrinkle forming under her weight.

"Alicia tells me I look freaky. Like I've completely left my body. She's offered to take a picture to show me, but I don't want to get too self conscious about it." Kristin smiled. She had a grin that was warm as sunlight upon the tops of her inner evergreen trees, nearly impossible not to return or soften at the sight of it. Frank felt the frayed edges of some of his nerves smooth out at the sight.

"What is it like? Seeing the future?" Frank slowly collected his empty plate and rested it on the cart beside the bed, sitting up near the pillows and bringing his knees towards his chest.

Kristin blinked thoughtfully. "It doesn't feel right. It feels like a violation of the privacy of fate. It rarely ever comes to my benefit, you know? No one wants to make bets with me because they know I'll win." She lightened up the heaviness of her first statement with a touch of humor, but Frank lingered around the start, a tight knot forming in his gut.

"Do you see horrible things happen?" Frank couldn't stop the question he soon regretted from escaping his lips. He shut his mouth in a tight line, teeth gritting in annoyance directed at himself for not thinking before speaking.

Kristin went quiet for a long moment. Her gaze was fixed on a painting hanging on the wall, hands folded delicately in her lap. In a soft whisper, she solemnly answered, "All the time."

Frank shut his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that, it just— just sort of came out without my permission."

"It's fine, Frank. You apologize way too often." Kristin brushed it off, returning to her sunny behavior so quickly it was nearly enough to cause whiplash. She was strange in that way, unpredictable as the future, so it only made sense for the two to be bound together.

Frank thought about his own abilities, the new detail of his identity still lodged in his throat threateningly with all the intentions of choking him. It had, back before he fled from his new home, and lingered for the roots to wrap around the vines of veins and create a sickly invention of an intrusive weed using his blood as a source to quench its thirst.

"I can't really help apologizing. That's all I'm gonna be doing for just . . . existing." Frank sucked in a shuddering breath as his throat swelled. "I don't fucking know what to do, Kristin. I love him. I love you all. But I'm putting you in so much danger because of what I am."

Kristin moved up onto the bed to rest beside Frank in a mirroring position. She looked tiny against the mountain of pillows, sandy blonde hair spilling across her shoulders which she tucked behind her ear when it wanted to shroud around her face. She was somber, folding her arms across her knees and propping her chin on them.

"My family's not one to give up easily. If you think we're giving up on you just to save ourselves, you don't know us as well as you think you might." Kristin pressed her lips together. "You know how people say when there's a will there's a way? It may seem corny to you, but it's true. It doesn't matter what you are, Frank. Fate is fate. You were meant to be part of this family."

When their eyes met, a peculiar glint sparkled beside Kristin's pupil, a knowing glisten that dissolved through the barricade drawing up around Frank as he almost drowned in his own despair. Kristin had always known Frank was coming. The future was solidified before the first meeting, before Frank's scornful confusion subsided to evolve into something he still couldn't fathom for how deep it ran through him. No foul desire nor inherited hate could penetrate the sacred uniqueness of the most unlikely union. Infinity and transient moments were two things that shouldn't coexist, yet they did, and they invented a shell of time that couldn't be understood or measured, it simply existed in blissful tragedy.

"You should try to get some sleep, Frank. Real sleep, not slumping over in the car." Kristin suggested.

Frank rubbed at the graininess that had grown from burning unblinking eyes. He hadn't known how long he drifted off into his thoughts, feeling like he'd fallen asleep while awake, and the exhaustion that had seeped into him throughout the ordeal of sorting out an escape route was the kind that refused to fade. Sighing deeply, he shifted onto his side, leaning on the fluffy white pillows soft and pliant under his head heavy with fatigue.

"Wake me up if Gerard calls." Frank muttered out his single request. He didn't know if Kristin responded; his eyes fell shut and that was the last thing he remembered before he was pulled down into darkness.

—

Frank awakened to the sound of murmuring voices. The volume was so low that he even wondered if remnants of a dream he couldn't remember were still floating around his head, but as he sluggishly blinked his eyes open, the sound of hushed conversation wasn't something he could imagine the farther he drifted from a state of sleep. He was curled in the same position he'd knocked out in, save for his own arms wrapped around his torso in search of comfort. A blanket that hadn't been there before rested over his body and kept out the cold. Squinting at the red numbers glaring from the alarm clock resting on the nightstand, he determined about three hours had passed since he shut his eyes. It had only felt like one at most, he should've felt rested, but the anxious tugging returned to his insides the moment he was conscious of his surroundings and remembered he wasn't securely tucked into his bed at home. He wouldn't be for a while.

Frank was just beginning to sit up when Mikey entered the room, phone pressed to his chest.

"Frank? Gerard's on the phone for you." Mikey observed Frank's state to ensure he wasn't intruding by crossing over the suite at a bad time.

All other thoughts fluttered out the window the moment the words were processed. Like an instinct, Frank's hands shot out, desperately reaching for the phone. Mikey wordlessly placed it in his hands and retreated to lend them their privacy, shutting the double doors between the rooms quietly.

"Gerard?" Frank breathed into the phone, wincing at the scratchiness of his sleep-laced voice. His heart pounded so furiously he felt it in his wrists, the tips of his fingers.

"Frank." His voice came clearly through the speaker, velvet spilling out and curling around Frank in the embrace he wasn't present to give. Frank burrowed into it, reveling as he shut his eyes and collapsed back onto the pillows.

"Oh my god. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to hear your voice." Frank's hand rested over his closed eyes as he fought to regain his breath.

"And I you, darling. Mikey tells me you made it to the hotel safely." Frank could've sobbed at the sound of the endearment slipping out had it not been for the reminder of their situation. Frank managed to scrape up his own reactions to hearing Gerard for the first time after growing sick from not knowing whether he was alright and took a slow breath to keep calm.

"Yeah. I didn't even realize it's Christmas Eve. I genuinely thought matters couldn't get any worse." Frank glanced out the window at the gloomy atmosphere, picturing twinkling lights and lush trees decorated in glittering spheres. His chest ached, so he dismissed the thought of Christmas and how he should've been spending it.

"I know. I know how torn up you are about the state you left your mother in, but all will be forgiven, Frank, rest assured. I'll see to it." Gerard's determination stemmed from devotion Frank wasn't certain he deserved, or if it was worth it when the likeliness of disaster was too close for comfort, but he didn't vocalize any of this to keep from upsetting Gerard. Instead, he switched the subject.

"How are you and Donald? And the others? What's going on, are there any more updates?"

"We're all perfectly safe and intact. Alicia fell back to protect your mother, she's guarding the area. As for Stefan, he's continued falling for the false trail, however we know his trust in it will soon waver and he'll figure out it's only scent marking. We're prepared for when this happens."

Frank knew what that entailed. In spite of all his desperation to escape and return to normal, whatever normal would be once this was over, he couldn't prevent the human part of him from bristling at the thought of what was to come once, or if, Stefan was captured.

"I know you have to kill him. I know he's killed so many innocent people, but it's just . . . fuck. He was a person. We have to kill a real person just to keep me safe. That's fucking insane, Gerard, it doesn't— it doesn't feel right." Frank choked out the words he feared would be seen as absurd, and they were as they came out, but there wasn't a chance he could eradicate the feeling of guilt that compiled.

"He was a person, Frank. That's in the past. He chose to completely lose his humanity in his addiction to the hunt. He's only lying in the bed he made for himself. You need to remind yourself of all the cruelties that'll be prevented once he sees to his end." Gerard's voice wasn't chiding nor stern, but a scarf of silk winding around Frank's neck, soft and nurturing against his skin.

Frank clung to his comfort to curve around the iron ball resting cold and heavy in the bottom of his gut, weighing him down in increments, and eventually, there wasn't a chance he'd be able to take a step without sensing its weight.

"I keep thinking about my mom's friend. There's been a connection from the start, hasn't there? Fate has a real sick way of sending signs." Frank croaked.

"She'll be able to rest peacefully once her killer's gone. As will the rest of his victims, known and unknown." Gerard's fire wasn't to blister Frank, it burned from the thought of avenging and preventing any more deaths in need of avenging. The tone helped alleviate some of the burden Frank took on and it was easy to shut his eyes and envision Gerard lying beside him, pitch black hair spread out over the clean white of the pillows and his hand gingerly lifting to skim across the shape of Frank's jaw to console him. Frank's fingertips traced the path to replicate Gerard's touch, but it wasn't the same; he was too warm, too unsteady.

"I miss you." Frank admitted in a soft whisper. "I feel so weird without you here, like I— like I really did leave a piece of myself with you."

"I picture myself beside you as we speak. Hearing your sweet voice has always filled me with so much longing, but now . . ." Gerard trailed off in a longing silence Frank could almost touch for how deeply he identified with it. "Cherish the locket around your neck for me, alright? Pretend it's my heart beating beside yours."

Frank dug under the neckline of his shirt to fish out the locket. He pressed it hard against his chest, warm metal burrowed against the spot where his heart stammered and craved, but his desires wouldn't be met until matters were resolved. For now, Frank would wait, and he was certain his patience couldn't run out.

"I love you." Frank spoke the words that had never been easier to say.

"I love you more. When this is all over, you and I are going somewhere together, alone. Only then will I feel complete."

"I wanna go back to the meadow. I just . . . I want to lay beside you and not think of anything else. I want to see the sun on your skin and I want— I want you to kiss me, I want this nightmare to be fucking over with." Frank's thumb slipped over the clasp of the locket as the hitching of his breath surprised himself. He'd done a relatively good job at holding it together, but near Gerard, his guards collapsed and a tidal wave of emotion came flooding at an alarming pace. He couldn't bear the distance, he resented it, and reminding himself that they'd reunite soon enough wouldn't be as simple as he imagined. Patience could come with pain, he learned, in the toughest way imaginable.

"I promise you that we're almost there, my love. You need to hold on until we take the final step. Do you think you can do that for me?" Gerard soothed him through the phone.

Frank swallowed against the thickness developing in his throat, combating the stinging behind his closed eyes and pressing his cheek into the pillow beside his head. "I'll try."

Gerard released a soft hum, a satisfied sound edged in melancholy. "Kristin and Mikey will take good care of you. You may find they're pleasant company to keep, if you're in need of a distraction."

"They've been great," Frank's eyes darted towards the double doors. "I haven't doubted them once. I trust everyone as much as I trust you."

"They already love you." Gerard paused, the quietest chuckle slipping free. "I told you they would."

Frank's smile was brittle tugging at his chapped lips, but genuine, and it allowed him to sink into the quick second where he could pretend the beam in their voices came from lighthearted matters further away from danger than what was possible.

After reluctantly bidding Gerard goodbye and lingering for a long moment with the phone pressed against his ear despite there being no other person on the other side, Frank dragged himself up, folding his legs on top of the covers and resting the phone on the bed. He called out Mikey's name, the sound a practical murmur, but he knew Mikey would be able to hear him.

On cue, Mikey entered the room, coming to retrieve his phone. He pocketed the device, but instead of taking off again, he hovered near the side of the bed, observing Frank intently. The fixed look of concentration gave away his intentions. A ghost of a smile appeared at Frank's mouth.

"You know you won't be able to get a read on me."

Mikey's mouth quirked in turn. "It's worth a try, isn't it?"

Frank stared down at his hands wringing in the pit between his crossed legs, knuckles grazing the covers. As much as he willed his mind to unfold, there was no sensation of budging— Frank couldn't even sense the part of himself that closed his brain off to the abilities of others and had difficulty accepting it was out of his control due to what coursed through his blood. He had a bleak thought about dissecting a vein to spill blood under a microscope and study it, find some form of a cure to undo the darkness that followed in the steps of magic that ought to be treasured, but it was impossible to do so with so many consequences.

Mikey sank down onto the side of the bed, palms splayed out over the surface. "I'm sorry for not telling you about my suspicions. Gerard was adamant about me not even suggesting it."

Frank felt a phantom spark of hurt circulate through his chest again. He closed up the wound and blinked against it, sighing. "It's fine. I get it. I mean, if all of this isn't enough proof that being what I am is dangerous, I don't want to know just how bad it can get."

"You're safer with dormant magic. It makes your blood weaker. Witch hunters want stronger blood so they'll become more powerful once they—" Mikey swiftly cut himself off, blinking. "Talking about this is just gonna make you feel worse."

Frank shook his head. "Not really. What's done is done, I can't live my life in ignorance, can I?"

"Yeah, but the timing isn't the smartest." Mikey rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. "Gerard wouldn't want me to be sharing this."

Frank pushed forward. "If witch hunters want stronger blood, why is Stefan hunting me?"

Mikey's mouth tilted in a frown. His hand fell back into his lap, curling in a loose fist, and the tough angle of his jaw as he thought about unpleasant things was startlingly similar to Gerard.

"There's so few witches left that some hunters can't afford to be picky." Mikey embarked on his hesitant path granting Frank's persistence permission to sway him. "Stefan's desperate. I could sense it out on the field."

Chills swept down Frank's arms, raising goosebumps. He wrapped his arms snugly around his torso. "Have many of my kind been killed?"

Mikey refused to meet Frank's gaze. "Yes. That, and the more witches mix with human blood, the weaker the magic becomes. Especially if it lies dormant in all of the previous generations."

Frank's heart leapt into his throat. "Then mine should be gone. I didn't even know about any of this, I— my parents are completely normal. My family is completely normal. Human."

"Maybe that's what they wanted you to think."

Frank shook his head vehemently. "I'm pretty sure if either of my parents had magical powers, they'd be using them to track me down and drag me back home right now."

Mikey's lips curled up at the corners in a tiny smirk. "You're right about that, if they're anything like you."

Frank couldn't resist the way his own lips tugged. It faded instantaneously; smiles were difficult to keep when his stomach was tied in thick knots, so tightly bound they were impossible to undo. Through the pressure, he pondered magic, distantly remembering the magic lay dormant in his veins because he had yet to trigger it.

"There's a way to awaken the magic, right? How . . . how does that happen?" Frank unsteadily balanced on a line of uncertainty and the desire to know more about his kind. He was as much of a mystery to himself as he was to others. He imagined he deserved getting to know the facts if he would be running from this for the rest of his life due to his willing exposure to vampires.

Mikey bristled, as expected, his back going stiff. "I don't think I should tell you that." He warned.

Frank's fingers dug into his own shirt frantically as he sensed the ball dropping. "I'm not gonna do it. It would be kinda stupid to put myself in more danger than I'm already in, I'm just curious."

Mikey looked at him skeptically. "Gerard will rip my head off—"

"Then don't tell him." Frank heard the desperation seeping into his own voice and went silent for a second after it became present, earning him a suspicious glance. Frank shook his head. "I just don't want to be so in the dark about everything. Just because I can't do any of this doesn't mean I shouldn't be allowed to know. Do you know how to hide your thoughts from Gerard?"

Mikey softened slowly, losing some of his sternness. "It's a skill I've had to build over time."

"Then he won't know you told me. Please." Frank pleaded on a gentler note instead of going further with hard persistence. His longing had grown as his mind opened to the possibility that something about him could be so extraordinary even if it brought a ring of tragedy joining him on his every path.

Mikey contemplated for a long moment, eyes casted down to the floor, staring motionlessly until Frank could sense the conflict radiating off of him in thick storm clouds gathering above his head. Maybe it had been too much to ask, or maybe it hadn't been much at all and it depended on who he asked, Frank couldn't decide.

Mikey finally responded. "Emotion. A moment of the strongest wave of emotion possible. You summon the magic with that."

Frank released the breath he'd been holding while awaiting an answer. Although he'd been anticipating it, it still came as a surprise flourishing through his being, tiny sparks ricocheting through his gut while he processed.

"Emotion? So like, intense rage or something? Like Carrie?" Frank fought to sound casual despite sensing the monumental weight of this entering his conscious and evoking reckless thoughts he immediately brushed under the rug to dispose of.

Mikey shook his head. "It could be rage, if that's the feeling that controls you most. It's not the same for everyone. Whatever moves your heart the most, that's the emotion you invoke."

Frank wondered what his driving emotion would be. What would be powerful enough to awaken the magic sleeping in his veins to allow it to flood through his blood, taking over his body in a golden grip he could practically taste as he envisioned the amount of power he'd possess. It was strange to picture considering he'd always viewed himself as a frail, clumsy thing with his strengths being a far cry from what was vital in order for people to value him as a fierce sort of person. Perhaps underestimating himself was fate's way of shielding him from the dangers of the magic, but he couldn't help but think how unfair it was to be hidden under the mask of normalcy when he was far more marvelous than he could ever credit himself for. Guilt crept in at his own thoughts and the craving for the forbidden, but it seemed just like Frank to be tempted by beautiful things he shouldn't have been allowed to have, things so beyond himself and his perception of what was possible in the world.

A thought occurred to him, bringing his brows together in a curious furrow. He turned to Mikey, asking, "How do you know all this?"

Mikey, slightly taken aback by the question, recomposed himself after a faint wince had escaped and warned Frank the answer wasn't likely a piece of information he'd digest well.

"Again, I'm not proud of my past or the people I associated with. But I ran with a witch hunter during my time with nomads. He was obsessed with finding a witch, he would tell me all these things about the history he learned and what kind of power they possessed. He was a fucking madman, practically."

Frank's throat ran dry. His eyes flickered to his knees, the worn fabric of his jeans and the tiny thread that had come undone at the inner seam as dread pooled in him. "Was he successful?"

Mikey shifted, uncomfortable, but not denying Frank any of his answers. "He found a coven. A weak one, he said they'd be easy to overpower and even offered to bring one of them to me, but I could never be greedy or inhumane enough to do something like that. I don't know what happened to him. He went after them one night and never came back."

There were two possibilities; the vampire's quest had been successful and he ran wild across the globe fueled by thefted power, or the witches banded together just enough to protect themselves, vanquishing a monster. Either picture was chilling to picture, so Frank tarnished the image unfolding in his head and turned away from it.

"Thanks for telling me." Frank met Mikey's eyes. "I know it kind of went against your comfortability, but it sucks not knowing anything about myself."

"I would've been fine telling you if it hadn't been for Gerard instructing me not to." Mikey angled himself towards Frank and a concerned line creased between his brows. "He just thinks he's protecting you. Sometimes, he can get a little selfish, but his intentions are pure."

"I know they are. I've tried to make myself understand." Frank smiled faintly. "It won't always be like this. We'll work on it."

The crease in Mikey's skin disappeared and the beginnings of a smirk ghosted around his mouth, a certain fondness emanating from him that Frank was quick to return on instinct. "I know you'll definitely make sure of that."

A sharp gasp filled the other side of the room. Both of their heads snapped up in alarm, but before Frank could even think to clamber to his feet, Mikey blurred over to where Kristin was seated in a fraction of a second, leaving behind a muted breeze in his wake from his speed. Frank scrambled up, shaking feeling back into his tingling left leg that fell asleep after prolonged moments of stillness, staggering through the suite division to investigate with a hammering heart.

Kristin was sucked into the future, eyes wide and glassy trained on the wall opposite to the sofa she was seated on. Her back was rigid and straight as possible, accompanied by the consoling hand Mikey placed there contradicting his alert expression.

"Kris, what are you seeing?" Mikey murmured in as gentle of a voice he could coax out of him, but Frank captured the tightness of his throat, the reflexive frigidness of the rushing rivers embedded into the very essence of his soul.

"Stefan figured it out. He's going off the trail, he's— it keeps changing." Kristin's brows lowered over her eyes in frustration, her mouth curling into a frown.

It was all Frank could do not to enter a frenzied, panicked state the moment his heart sank deep into the bottom of his gut and all the warmth in his body dispersed. "What do you mean?"

"Another decision hasn't been made yet. It's making things unclear, I'm trying to see further but there's too many unknown paths."

"We have to tell Gerard and Donald." Mikey swiftly retrieved his phone for his pocket, but Kristin's hand shot out and wrapped tight around his wrist, bringing him to freeze solid.

"Wait. There's a house, it doesn't look like anyone's lived in it for a long time. I keep seeing him standing in it, like he's waiting for something or someone." Kristin's eyes were impossibly huge as the image flickered across her vision, giving her a neatly manic look that caused Frank's breath to splinter halfway up his throat.

"Can you describe it?" Mikey asked urgently.

"Get me a pen and paper. Let me try to sketch it out, it's hard to explain."

Frank sprang up and shakily retrieved the pen and paper pad from the coffee table near the couch, resting the items in Kristin's hand held out in waiting. The moment they touched her skin, she grasped them, slamming the pad onto the table and frantically scribbling out a sketch at an alarming speed blurring her hand's every motion. Kristin drew out the open living room, furniture covered in what appeared to be sheets, boarded windows blocking out the outside and preserving the foggy glass. There was a particular arch marking the entryway, a crack running along the beam that Frank instantly recognized with a turning stomach.

"I know that house." Frank choked. All movement halted, eyes flitting over and firmly training on him confoundingly. Fighting the scratchiness invading his throat in suffocating tingles, he uttered, "That's the house my great aunt lived in before she passed. It's in the next city over."

Frank had only been there twice in his life as a young child, begrudgingly tagging along on two week-long visitations where he was cooped up in the creaky old home riddled with unstable floorboards and cracks in the foundation, exactly like the kind depicted in the sketch. Frank remembered that one most vividly since it caused some concern even to a small child peering up as the adults chattered in the other room, his great aunt's senile chihuaha snoozing loudly curled up in her bed a couple of feet away from where he stood. The house hadn't been sold nor taken care of after her death; it had simply been abandoned, most of the furniture lingering and all very personal belongings removed, the memories fading into the withering wood that wouldn't likely ever be inhabited again.

Mikey sprung up with the phone in his hand, quickly dialing and stalking off to the other side of the room, swinging the double doors shut behind him. Kristin reached out and gingerly took Frank's hand, seating him beside her in a calming effort despite the wildness of her enlarged eyes.

"What are we gonna do?" Frank asked shakily. "I mean— fuck. He knows where I am. But why is he there? How did he even find my aunt's house?"

"I don't have a clue. The visions, they're unreliable at the moment, all I'm getting is one picture and nothing else. It's almost like there's another piece to this game, but I don't know what or who that might be." Kristin gnashed her teeth together.

"You don't think it's his partner? Brian?"

"I would've seen him if he had any part of this. He was smart enough to flee almost as soon as the hunt began." Kristin rubbed her temples in slow circles, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "We can't stay here. It's no longer safe, if he's anywhere in this state he can find you in a heartbeat."

"Where will we go?"

"Maybe to Canada. We might go to extremes and fly to Alaska, Mikey's discussing it with Gerard." Kristin sighed deeply. One moment, she was easing back onto the couch to rest her eyes for a moment, and the next, they flew open and unfocused completely as another vision bombarded her. Frank's spine went so rigid it ached, one hand flying out to hold onto Kristin's shoulder and he couldn't decide whether it was to anchor her, himself, or the both of them.

"What do you see? Is it the missing piece?" Frank urged.

"He's going to California. He looked through your school records to get your previous address, he's—" Kristin's expression convulsed in horror. "Your father's home. He's expecting you to be there."

Frank's entire body stilled. Ringing filled his ears, his trembling hands catastrophically numb and stiff even as he was staggering to his feet and patting around his jeans until he found his phone sitting abandoned in one of the pockets. He turned it on, fingers prodding the screen in harsh jabs as if it would speed up the process. The moment the screen lit up, an influx of messages appeared, and as Frank opened the string from his father, his blood went cold as his eyes fell upon a single message.

I'm boarding a plane back home right now. Please answer your mother's calls, it's not enough for her to know I'm going back to the house to make sure you're safe.

"He's gonna kill my dad." Frank's horrified whisper slipped through pale and freezing lips. The phone almost clattered to the ground, but Kristin shot out a stealthy hand to retrieve it before it could land face-down and shatter.

"He's not," Kristin vowed fiercely, "We'll send Gerard and Donald their way. Get your things together, we're leaving now."

Mikey zipped through the room, empty duffel bag in hand he immediately held out for Frank to take. "Pack up your things. We're going to Alaska."

"Tell them they need to go to California right now, Frank's father is in danger. He's on a flight home and Stefan will be waiting in the house for anyone to enter." Kristin flipped open her laptop she retrieved from the edge of her bed. "I'm booking a flight right now."

"I thought the hunter was coming here?"

"That was one of the possible routes. Right now, he's decided he's going to California first to find Frank. The vision of him in Frank's aunt's house might mean there's a chance of him getting away."

Frank robotically clutched his bag between his hands and stiffly sprinted to the dresser where his belongings that had barely been unpacked were being torn from the drawers, stuffed carelessly into the bag until the zipper felt close to bursting by the time Frank went to yank it closed. His breathing was loud and rushed in his own ears, nothing compared to the rapid rush of cold blood resulting from his erratic heartbeat pounding against his ribcage like the fist of all of his fears threatening to crack his bones apart. Frank hunched over an empty drawer, fighting off nausea spiderwebbing through his system and creeping into the back of his tightening throat. Surrealism swirled above his head and almost set him apart for reality, which seemed a blissful thing at first, but Frank couldn't afford to take even the briefest pause. Every second counted towards another blindingly fast footstep the hunter took across state lines, hellbent on bloodshed, and it was clear it didn't matter how much he spilled or if some of it didn't belong to Frank. That helpless feeling drained the life from him in a matter of seconds as if it too possessed the supernatural speed of a vampire, lethal in all the ways that counted, a threat against Frank's sanity in a manner where he felt he'd been spinning in circles for hours without an end. It was parasitic, sitting like an impenetrable vessel of iron latching into his flesh to secure its place like his body was its kingdom and it was obliged to conquer it.

All at once, Frank was pathetically, hopelessly human— until he remembered he wasn't.

Frank swallowed over the grain in the tissue lining his throat, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He slowly turned towards Mikey and Kristin tackling multiple tasks in a rush to whisk them out of the hotel as soon as possible. Frank's legs were shaking underneath him as he walked into the room, grabbing their attention for one breathless moment.

"Do you think Stefan's there now?" Frank rasped.

"I wouldn't doubt it." Kristin took Frank's question in another way, her jaw tight as the smile she mustered. "We'll take care of this, Frank. He won't be there anymore by the time your father gets to the house."

Frank nodded with a head that felt heavy enough to roll from his shoulders. Gathering his little items from the sitting area, he bundled them into his backpack, turning off every function in his body to run on autopilot as he resumed quickly packing his things and tried not to focus on the string of low murmurs the two vampires exchanged not far from him.

—

They arrived at the airport after getting through the frustrating ordeal of canceling their reservation for the suite so shortly after they checked in. The area was crowded, bustling with exhausted and frazzled families taking last minute flights on a holiday, others cheerfully boarding at their destination with festivities on their mind as they practically sprinted through the crowds with heavy luggage in hand. The combination of multiple bodies set off scent sensitivity in the vampires beside Frank bestowed with gradually darkening eyes and ringed shadows dusting under their distressed gazes. Mikey clutched tightly onto Kristin's hand for an extra anchor of self control and she responded by drawing tiny comforting circles across his skin. Frank then noticed the glisten of a gold charm bracelet that hadn't been roped around her wrist when they first arrived in Washington. Christmas lights strung across the building reflected across the swaying charms tinkling softly as the cuff of her coat grazed the chain, a prominent diamond cut into the shape of a heart dangling beside the initial M. Frank tore his eyes away before ripe guilt could tear him apart again.

"It won't be long," Kristin said over her shoulder as she guided Frank to the overflowing waiting area, the corners of her eyes pinched as if she needed sleep she couldn't acquire. "Not many people are headed where we are. We'll be here for an hour at most."

Nerves cracked like split wires of electricity fusing together under Frank's skin. He pushed, suppressed every thought, directing his thought to the cleanest slate even if he could feel his heart's descent to the very end of his body.

Feigning nonchalance, Frank said, "I need to use the restroom. I think I saw it back there, it might take a little while since there's so many people here."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Mikey asked, a touch reluctant to let Frank off on his own.

Frank waved a hand in the air. "It's fine, I can handle being on my own for a bit. I'll be back soon."

After exchanging a wary glance, they both nodded, linking their hands together and sinking onto the empty edge of an occupied bench to silently tell him they'd stay put there for Frank to remember when he was making his way back. He nodded back, pivoting around and manerving carefully through the thick crowd and repeatedly bumping elbows with strangers who didn't so much as spare him a glance as they hurriedly passed by.

Once he was spat out from the massive sea of moving bodies, Frank found relief in the gaps near the exit where groups branched off and individuals rushed off to their waiting cabs or cars parked outside. Frank struggled to keep his restless mind intact, wrangling down the writhing thoughts swarming like restless limbs, keeping the canvases as blank as possible while knowing this entire thing would break to pieces if he let a single thought of it slip through the fine cracks. His breath came in a rapid pattern and he tried to seem ordinary, but he couldn't be sure he was successful in keeping a straight face when anxiety was violently churning in his guts. He slipped out his phone, his palm slick, and dialed the number.

The answer was almost immediate. Silent, static cracking in the back, and Frank swore he captured the faintest brush of breath against the speaker. A trickle of ice slithered down the back of his neck and trailed down his spine.

"Whatever you're planning on doing, stop it. You're not going to hurt my dad." Frank spoke in a low voice to avoid gaining suspicion. Calm was out of the question; he surprised himself by the venom lacing between his words, scathing to anyone, but he doubted it would have any effect on a vampire ruthless as the one they dealt with.

Frank was right. Stefan chuckled mirthlessly, the sound grainy through the phone. "And why is that?"

"You win. Take me and leave the people I love alone. Meet me at my great aunt's house on Brentwood Drive in Cheney, you'll know where to find me. I'm on my way right now and I'm alone." This was what Stefan had truly wanted all along; Frank's surrender. Not the unwilling robbery of his life. Frank knew what he wanted from the moment he heard Stefan invaded his home in California. In case matters failed and tragedy were to strike, the house was familiar to Kristin and Mikey, easy to locate in case they needed to stop any further damage or discover what was left of Frank's attempt of escape, and they'd be permanently removed from danger once all satisfaction was achieved.

"You think I'd so easily believe you?" Stefan's voice danced musically, as though he found great amusement in the pure absurdity of Frank's suggestion.

Frank's teeth gnashed together, grinding for a moment as he filtered out his towering fury and drained it just enough for him to keep from shouting, but his tone was stony when he spoke next. "Do you really think I'd ever let you get the chance to lay a finger on anyone in my life?"

A pause, then a cruelly laughed under his breath, like the hunter believed Frank was being adorably clever. "You're a lot braver than I gave you credit for. It's a bit saddening to see how little you must value your life if you're so easily handing it over."

Frank chuckled once, a hard and flat sound. "I'm not here to have a conversation with you. If you kill me, you get what you want. You'll never go near the people I love again. Forget about them."

A moment passed, not out of hesitation, but to torturously drag out the suspense as a true sadist would be inclined to do. Frank's resentment hardened like a bullet on his tongue he intended to fire with a string of scathing words, but the rapid aim was impeded by the swift response from the hunter's discordant voice.

"You have yourself a deal, witch." The line went dead.

Frank hailed a cab with a waving hand, letting out the smallest breath of relief when it slowed and braked near the curb his feet were planted on. Frank climbed into the back, falling awkwardly onto the seat in his haste, but he couldn't spare enough of his mind or focus to be embarrassed about it.

"I need you to take me to Cheney," Frank breathed to the driver looking curiously over her shoulder. He banged out the address."You know that neighborhood?"

"I don't need to, I have the power of gps." She waved eccentrically to the bluetooth dashboard in an attempt to be humorously friendly, and Frank would have smiled on any other day, but he didn't have time to waste. He fished out a wad of dollar bills from his pocket as payment and slumped back against the seats as they began taking off, abandoning the airport where Kristin and Mikey undoubtedly panicked now that the decision had been made and the vision arrived too late.

The thought of death would always be harrowing, even to the people who yearned for it most. In moments of temporary bliss, the unknown tethered to last moments before nothingness confined all last remaining thoughts and white consumed the dark. Being so near to it, even as a mere possibility, Frank felt that fear writhing beneath his resolve. The putrid sensation couldn't be alleviated by reason or soothing fragments of thought Frank fed to himself to snip away the budding sensation of begging to turn back around. But he couldn't afford selfishness when a life was at stake, a life he valued more than his own, as unflattering as it sounded in any other context, yet all along he'd known he would risk everything he could if it was required of him to ensure the safety of his family. It felt like it had been a cruel prediction of the future that was to come, and though the chances of surviving had feasibility, Frank couldn't resist leaning into the coldness where he doubted his luck could be so flawless to save everyone. He wished he could live; to continue loving, making amends, cultivating new passions and abandoning others as life went, and so Frank would try to trust just as devoutly in the possibility that he would live.

If he didn't, he would've done a good thing regardless of what the people who loved him believed. Better a single life and the center of trouble than the innocents caught in the whipping tails of the hurricane. In final moments, through rasping breath and the sting of desperate lungs, Frank knew he'd rather the sensation of his soul escaping his body as his blood would in a circumstance where he could finally be the hero instead of laying wrinkled and gray on a deathbed with little accomplishments to his name. He'd grasp his chain, Gerard's heart resting in his palm to take with him, and welcome the bliss of devouring white until he found a place of peace. He knew it would come to him in the recreation of the moment he'd laid between the flowers, gazing into the eyes of his moon, tingling in the residue of celestial stardust that had imploded the moment his lips first touched a pair quivering in anticipation of the sensation of his mouth tenderly returning all affections for his beloved to know what he felt was timeless, resolute, almost enough to make him equally immortal.

But Frank had always known he was temporary. If magic wouldn't suffice, sacrifice had to be enough, and Frank was willing to offer both. 

—— 

Next chapter is about to be even crazier than this one, so buckle in and brace yourselves. It's good to be back! 

-rosexo