Love is brightest in the dark. {Closed.}

[SortOfBeautiful]

Six hours into his flight from Stockholm, Sweden to Seattle, Washington, Artur Tansa was beginning to get restless. He couldn't decide if he was tired, or needed to get up and start moving around to get the tingling out of his toes and legs. He looked at his watch. His parents had given him that watch a few weeks ago. A gift for doing so well in school. They were proud of him and missed him, they said. Artur had reciprocated, but he didn't know how to tell his parents yet just how much he was enjoying himself in the States. The people in school were friendly enough even if he did feel like he didn't fit in at times, but if he was thinking about his future, there was so much more opportunity if he stayed. In his Senior year at Washington State University, he'd have to decide whether or not to find a way to stay, or take his degree with him back home to Stockholm and find something there.

The secondhand on his watch was ticking by way too slowly. Six hours down, six more hours to go. God, why couldn't he have picked a flight with a layover? He could have stopped in New York before continuing to Seattle, then maybe he wouldn't be stuck in a tin box for twelve hours. He'd have to remember this feeling when he flew back home for the Christmas holiday.

Next to his watch was a bandage, wrapped around his forearm. He glared at the empty seat to his left. Upon boarding, the woman sitting next to him had a breakdown when the flight attendants and gate agent were closing the boarding door. Artur had had noticed that the woman looked a little pale when he first sat down, and he made a careful decision to face away from her. While the flight attendants stood and did their safety demonstration, the woman began her coughing fit, and didn't seem to be able to sit still. At that time, he had wondered if it would look rude if he pulled out his anti-bacterial gel from his backpack beneath his seat. Was it inconsiderate? Of course not, this woman clearly wasn't healthy to travel. But that was when the woman started convulsing. And moaning. Concerned, Artur and the passenger on the other side of the woman grabbed her for support. And she bit the first person who'd touched her; him.

She broke skin, her teeth digging into his flesh, and the flight attendants with the help of a few passengers were able to pull the woman off of him. They had to carry her, kicking and screaming, going through a fit of what they all assumed was a panic attack. Apparently it happened a lot of planes. A medic came on board and helped bandage him up, and instructed him to get it looked at when he landed. Artur didn't have a doctor in the states, but he already had a plan to see a nurse once he arrived on campus. That is, if the wound got any worse, which he didn't expect it would.


Upon landing in Seattle, Artur woke up from his deep sleep and gazed out the window. The sky was gray and hazy, and he eyed the drops of water that seemed to almost suddenly appear on the window screen. Yep, he was definitely back in Seattle.

He blinked once, then again. His eyes were dry, and his vision was just as hazy as the clouds in the Seattle sky. Standing up, a little disoriented from what he assumed was because of his interrupted sleep and 12-hour flight, he put his hand on the seat in front of him to help him stand. Shit, why was he so dizzy?

Grabbing his backpack, he strapped it over his shoulder. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his other hand, and looked around. The faces he looked at were blurry. The shapes were there, but not the details. As the plane filled with noise from all of the bags being pulled from the overhead bins and people chatting away on their cell phones to let their loved ones know they were safe, it felt like someone turned up the volume. Artur's head throbbed, as if he could feel his own heartbreat in his head. It was a fucked up feeling.

Blinking again, Artur took a deep breath before following the line of passengers off the plane to baggage claim.

--------------



"'Cause baby, you're a firewooooork..." Ashley Sullivan sang, purposely awful. Without skipping a beat, or at least another one of Katy Perry's, Brian turned off the radio. "Hey!" She exclaimed, even though Ashley wasn't the least bit upset. It wasn't her music, and it definitely wasn't close to his favorite. But annoying Brian in the car and taking over his radio was half the fun in driving with him. It was only about an hour drive from her parent's home in Tacoma, Washington to the UW campus. Currently, they'd only been driving about 20 minutes before she had decided to mess with his stereo. Those idle hands of hers just itched and gravitated toward it, like she was some kid who just had to touch everything.

With her knees bent, Ashley's feet were on his dash comfortably, as if it were her own car. It might as well have been; or at least the passenger seat. She'd been riding in it since the day he saved up and bought it their Freshman year in high school. Her perfect ass had likely indented the seat as well, forcing it to form only her rear-end. Staking a claim on the one of many things in his life. But she remembered Brian been so proud that first day he rode into the high school parking lot, showing off. She swore, she'd never forget that cheeseball grin he had on his face as he waved her over with his arm hanging out the window. She was the first to sit in that front seat of his, and the two had sat there and skipped their whole first period. Talking, laughing, smoking, and even then, she had messed with his stereo.

Ashley's phone vibrated on the floor, and she sighed. She knew who it was.

"Hi, mom." She answered, looking over at Brian with a grin and a roll of her blue eyes. Her mom always got like this the first week she left for college. Perhaps she just got too attached again over the summer. You'd think she was going to school across the country, or something!

"Yes, I remembered my laptop. Mom! I'll text you when I get to campus, we're only in Federal Way. Brian drives like a grandma when it's raining." She paused, because her mom was still talking and Brian was pinching her knee at the jab. "Okay, fine. I'll call. Okay, I'll tell him, love you." Shutting off the screen to her phone, she dropped it back on the floor and looked over at him. "Mom says to remember her offer." She reminded him.

When Brian had picked her up from her house, Ashley's mom and step-dad had been all over him. They knew Brian just as long as she had. Of course, Ashley was much closer in many ways, but he was still like extended family. Or at least, that's what they told people when Ashley dragged him to family dinners, vacations, and reunions.

Her mom didn't know when she'd see Brian again. She only saw him when he was with Ashley, and with her going off to college again and him moving...well, the reunion was questionable. And she didn't exactly know much about his family situation, so she wanted to make sure that he had no doubt he was welcome back any time.

"You can come stay with us, honey, if you're ever back in town. And let us know if you need anything at all." Ashley had heard her mom telling Brian with a hand on his back as he helped load up his car with her bags in the rain. Ashley was standing in the garage with her step-dad, Mark, and she didn't hear the rest of the conversation before he was talking in her ear too.

"So, he's dropping you off at campus again this year, huh? How many other friends of yours do that?" Mark was looking at her with that look. She knew that look. He'd always been suspicious of her relationship with Brian, never believing that they were just friends. Well, he wasn't alone in that suspicion. Their close friendship had made a lot of people uncomfortable, especially exes. But Ashley was convinced their relationship and bond was so strong because they were only just friends. No funny business. While a lot of friends and relationships had come and gone, the two of them still stuck. Why fuck up a good thing?

The attraction? Well, that's what denial was for.

"Yes, and don't give me that look. Be good to mom, okay? If she calls me all the time, please take her phone away." She had flashed Mark a grin, and she gave her step-dad his hug too before getting in the car and taking off with Brian. She looked back and tried not to roll her eyes at her mom, who was fighting back tears as she waved them off.

"She gets worse every year." Ashley mumbled, but those pink lips were curved into a smirk.

And here they were. The rain had calmed since they first got on the road. And while the drive up north to Seattle felt just like old times, it was still hard to believe that this was probably the last year they'd make the drive together. Ashley swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to think about it. Who the hell was going she going to annoy after he was gone? How could she ever find a new partner-in-crime as fun as him? How would she make fun of his girlfriends, if she couldn't see them? Would it be the same, him giving her advice and comforting her over the phone, instead of in person? Ashley rolled her eyes at herself. She'd been asking herself these questions since the day he told her that the Army was locating him to Fort Benning. She knew it was a possibility, him being moved. But now it was all beginning to feel so real.

When they got to campus, Brian knew the drill. This was his third time driving her to her dorm. They had to fight and weave their way around Seattle traffic and Ashley was sitting up straighter now, anxious in knowing they'd be getting out of the car soon. A blonde with a wild heart, she was never one to sit still for long periods of time.

The roads were filled with people going to and getting from work, and students and parents moving their kids into the dorms. Brian found an empty spot to park in the grass, close her dorm that read "FOSS HALL", where they could unload her things as close to the front door as allowed.

Everyone else was parking illegally everywhere else, but campus security seemed to ignore those infractions on move-in day.

Ashley was sharing a room with her friend Chelsea again this year; they'd been living together since Freshman year, and probably would have been closer friends if that spot wasn't already taken by someone else. Chelsea and Brian knew each other well enough; Brian used to visit campus often and the two of them would often flirt, right in front of Ashley. It drove her fucking crazy. She didn't know whether Brian did it because he was actually interested in her roommate, was just being his usual, flirtatious self, or if it was just because he knew it pissed her off. But her friends were his friends. And vice versa.

"Chels has already been begging me to ask you to hook her up with some Southern boys when you get to Georgia. So...be prepared." She warned him with a grin, then excitedly gave him a little jab in his arm before she stepped out of the car.

Thank fucking god! Her legs and knees were so sore, and she stretched dramatically as she gazed over the hood of the car until he was standing up too. Luckily, the rain had faded into a light mist. She could handle that. Wearing a tight pair of faded blue jeans and a black tank top hidden beneath her white zip-up hoodie, Ashley pulled up those long golden locks into a ponytail before she started to help unload. Starting with the lightest bag she could find.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

In many ways, their friendship was improbable. She was a girl with two parents still together and, it seemed to the outside world, quite happy being so. Pretty and intelligent, with a sense of humor lurking in there as well, it was a package that had turned the heads of schoolboys in desire and schoolgirls in envy. One would have to be a fool to say that Ashley's life had been easy - or anyone's, really, didn't we all have our problems? - but to say that the pair walked different paths through life was to put things mildly.

Brian Harris had never known his mother, a woman who had given birth to him at a young age and fled before she was approaching anything that could be considered 'old.' It was an event that had caused no small amount of confusion and strife as he grew, and it was only when the fists of his father found him that the clouds of misunderstanding lifted so he could see the stars. It was a painful thing to know that your mother had abandoned you, but now being only a few years younger than she was when she did so, he felt much more at peace with her decision. Not completely, but more than he had at any other point in his life.

A physical prowess was, perhaps, the biggest thing that made Brian's adolescence as good as it was. He'd been gifted with a strong arm and speed that seemed unnatural for his size, and by his sophomore season was the starting center fielder for their high school baseball team. Playing all-out meant diving across the field and climbing the fences, and the bruises that sometimes peeked out from under clothing became easier and easier to explain. It was one of very few secrets he'd kept from Ashley over the years, and while he knew he'd tell her eventually, he had no plans to any time soon. She'd worry about him enough as it was, and adding sympathy for something that she couldn't have stopped anyway was pointless.

Despite their differences, they were fast friends and had been so for what seemed to be forever. There had been a couple of drunken kisses as time passed and they grew older, but it never moved to anything past that, and even those were something they never really talked about. An attraction was there - how could it not be? - at least on his end, but acting on it could mean the end of their friendship, and neither of them were willing to risk it. They'd both dealt with friends that no longer wanted to be in the same room together after dating or waking up in bed together the morning after a party, and both couldn't stand the thought of it happening to them.

Of course, that didn't mean Brian was never jealous of boyfriends she'd had, and may have been a little too eager to pound on one of Ashley's that had cheated on her during their Junior year, but it was something he'd never admit to anyone. And certainly not to her.

Whether she knew it or not, in his mind it was because of her that he made it through high school and managed to get his 2-year degree. It was the last thing he wanted to accomplish before going into the military, not wanting to be someone that regretting never trying college before settling on a soldier's life. Between working, which allowed him to no longer live at home, and school, the days and weeks between Ashley's visits seemed to go by more quickly, and life settled into a comfortable rhythm.

In ways he could never have imagined, everything would change this year.

Naturally more quiet than the blonde occupying his passenger seat, he was even more so as they made their way through wet Seattle traffic, though he noticed the change in her posture as well. Feet off the dash, sitting up straighter now, eyes alert. He was going to stay for a party some with some friends of hers later in the evening, but this was the last day they'd spend together for some time, and both of them became more acutely aware of it as they grew closer to campus.

As she always did, though, she managed to lighten the mood with a poke in his arm for an exclamation point, and he couldn't help but to laugh a little. "Since I'll be living in Georgia, won't I qualify as a southern boy now?" Chelsea was cute, no question, but some part of him knew much of his flirting with her was just to make Ashley jealous. A silly game to play, perhaps, but it was undoubtedly fun watching her try to scowl and hide it from them.

Climbing out of the car, Brian connected the zipper and pulled the teeth together on the dark green canvas jacket he wore. His jeans were a dark blue and held tight to the large muscles in his thighs, and were it not so much fun watching guys nearly walk into things as they turned to look at Ashley, he may have noticed a few female heads turning his in direction as well.

"Don't strain yourself there, Ash," he quipped, shaking his head at the bag in her hands, "You're going to be sore for days if you keep carrying that much stuff." His grin was bright and lit up the deep green of his eyes as he lifted a box that she had apparently filled with her gold bar collection. With each step, he found himself more and more thankful that she was only on the third floor this year.

Making their way to the door, he followed close behind which put him in the perfect position to watch a guy turn himself nearly into an owl to stare at Ashley's ass once she passed him, and doing caused him to nick a stair railing with the box in his hands, jostling it enough to send it tumbling to the ground with a solid thud. Shaking his head as he skirted around the crumpled box, he just manged to hold back his laugh until he was past the poor bastard.

"That's one!" he called out to her.

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

"That's one!" Ashley heard Brian call out from behind her. She raised a brow, and slowly turned her head to look back at him as they climbed the stairs.

"One, what?" Did he mean the one box she had, or what? Ashley may have known her beauty could turn heads, she could even tell when a guy was flirting and coming on to her. But apparently she had no idea she was being watched now, her mind too distracted. She was lost in thought about moving back in the dorm, starting school again, this time, without her best friend to visit her every weekend. But she promised herself she wouldn't get all mopey.

While turned to look down at Brian climbing the stairs behind her, her foot stumbled and she tripped. The light box fell forward out of her hands, and her hands caught her fall before she could hit her face, and Brian's big hands had caught her hips in them. Bent over in front of him, she pushed herself to stand up straight again, and she exhaled a heavy laugh of relief.

"You're supposed to walk up these, not fall down." She heard him tease, right behind her. Ashley grinned, and leaned forward to pick up that box again.

"Lucky for me, you've got quick reflexes." Flashing a smile he couldn't see, those long stemmed legs and beautiful hips were moving again as they made it up to the third floor.

Her dorm door was already open, among other doors down the hall, and sure enough, Chelsea had already loaded up her side of the room and was unpacking when Ashley and Brian walked in. Setting her box down, or really, dropping the light box on the ground, Ashley hugged her college friend and roommate. Chelsea hugged her friend back, but over Ashley's shoulder, she was grinning over at Brian already.

"I see you brought my date for tonight's party. Word is that Gamma Delta Phi is hosting one at the frat house tonight. You just might get lucky tonight, Jarhead." Chelsea was beaming, and Ashley was rolling her eyes as she stepped away from her roommate. She watched Chelsea give Brian a welcoming hug, much longer than her hug with Ashley.

"He's not a Marine, dumbass, he's in the Army." Ashley laughed at her friend's stupidity, even if she loved the girl dearly. She just didn't love the way she wasted no time coming on to Brian and trying to get into his pants since she knew Ashley wouldn't be getting into them.

After a couple more trips of up and down those stairs, no thanks to Chelsea's help, Brian and Ashley were able to unload his car, and his counting game only went to four by the time they dropped the last of her bags on her side of the dorm room. Ashley found more use for Brian, letting him help put her bed together and make it with her girlish white and gray comforter set. Sighing, she wished she could lay in it now, maybe make him join her in a nap before the craziness of the night erupted. But Chelsea had other plans.

"Come here, Brian. Help me pick out a dress. How much you wanna bet Ash is gonna wear that?"

Ashley looked down at what she was wearing. That white hoodie was long gone, and it was just those tight jeans, and black tank.

"What? What's wrong with this?" Ashley furrowed her brows, not seeing the problem. She didn't need to get all fucking dolled up, and wear sexy dresses to get the college boys' attention. That beautiful face and ass did all the work.

"Everything, Ash."

Chelsea tugged Brian with her to her side of the room, holding up a couple dresses for him to pick out. Ashley wanted to die with laughter. Brian usually cut off their best friend arrangement when it came to picking out clothes with her. But...maybe he would make an exception, if it meant he was going to get laid. Ashley shifted uncomfortably, not ever liking the thought of her roommate and Brian together. It made her chest and stomach feel weird. So, she broke the two of them up immediately.

"Just pick a dress, Chels. We both know you're going to pick the shortest one, anyway." Ashley pointed out the truth, and looked over at Brian to see if he was buying any of this. It was just an excuse to get him close. To laugh at his jokes and touch his arm. To get him to look at her ass after she dressed behind her closet doors, and asked him to zip her up. Even if she could reach.

Ashley shifted again.

"Let's go, I'm starving. We'll get something to eat before we head over to the party. Brian's buying." She eyed him. Payback for humoring and flirting back with her roommate.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Touching her, his hands on her hips to stop her from a makeout session with the concrete, was both not strange in the slightest given their friendship, and yet somehow profoundly weird at the same time. One did not generally have their hands on the hips of a friend, or find those hips so very appealing when they did. But, perhaps that was why he teased her about the guys that nearly walked into traffic trying to get another look as she passed by. Maybe drawing attention to their looks made him feel better about the occasional look he stole, or the way he'd realize his hands still smelled like her after he'd dropped her off. Maybe he liked her more than he'd ever admit, but knew despite their friendship, a kid headed out of an abusive home and into the Army wasn't someone women were lining up to date. He'd had little trouble finding one - and the grin he now received from her roommate Chelsea over Ashley's shoulder told him he'd have no trouble finding another, if he wanted - but they rarely lasted long. Eventually, all of them grew too close and had to be pushed away.

Somehow, she'd managed to stick. Even if he couldn't touch her the way he wanted, he didn't want that to disappear.

Once the pair of friends had disengaged, he hugged Chelsea too, a quick and slightly guilty glance cast in Ashley's direction as he did, and then shook his head down at her.

"You keep calling me Jarhead, and I'm gonna start spreading rumors about you tonight," he said, blue eyes flickering quickly to Ashley and back to the girl who scowled at him now. "But I'm sure antibiotics will clear it right up!" He laughed and bounced back from her as she hit his shoulder, then slipped out the door, calling behind him, "The car's not going to unpack itself, blondie!"

Bounding down the steps, he was back out in the soggy weather and had another box in his hands before she was coming out of the door. "Chop chop!" he called as he passed, bumping her hip with his. The timing left him alone in the room with Chelsea for a moment, and she was close to him nearly the instant the box left his hands, her breasts pressed against his arm.

"So, are you staying for the party tonight?" she asked, brows lifted, head tilted as she looked up at him.

It was only a heroic act of self-control, enhanced a bit by the knowledge that Ashley would be walking in any second now, that kept his eyes on her face and no lower, even as he nodded and started back for the door.

"Of course! Someone's got to be there to keep you from flashing everyone, don't they?" He snickered at her and the big O's her mouth and eyes became, and was back in the hall just as Ashley arrived. He only laughed and shook his head as he passed her, unzipping his jacket as he made his way back down the stairs. The rain had stopped, thankfully, and all the stairs carrying boxes he knew there was no chance Ashley would even attempt had worked up a bit of a sweat.

By the time they - well, mostly he - were finished a few trips later, his jacket had been shed and was tossed on her bed atop her own discarded hoodie after they'd made it up. Unknown to him, their thoughts ran parallel when it came to the nap, but Chelsea's flirting quashed that idea before either of them could even express it. At her request, a wary glance was cast to Ashley, and then he stood before her closet, watching as a series of dresses were pulled out and held up to her for him to judge.

He laughed as Ashley verbally jabbed at the other girl, and with a shrug pointed to what was essentially a tube of fabric that covered the important bits and little else. He would admit to no one but himself that the sight of Chelsea in it would be hard to keep his eyes from, and were she not Ashley's friend, and sharing a room with her on top of it, he may have actually let himself entertain the possibility of finding himself in bed with her later. Instead, he knew it would go no further than a little drunken kissing at the party. If it was okay that he and Ashley had done it a few times, surely it was okay that he and Chelsea did... right?

The dress picked out, Brian dropped onto the bed and leaned back on one arm as Chelsea changed.

"Oh am I?" he asked, rolling his eyes at Ashley. "Is that the way you thank me for driving you up here and carrying all of your heavy shit? So gracious, Ash!" He laughed at the face she made, and then both of them had their attention pulled to Chelsea when she stepped out in the dress. With a grin, he glanced at Ashley before nodding at her roommate.

"Looking good, short stuff. Let's get out of here!" Up from the bed, and he slipped between the pair of them and doing his best to brush neither in the process, and out into the hallway.

The rest of the day went just as most days with Ashley went, laughing at each other, sharing telling looks as Chelsea vied for the attention of both of them, and always ribbing her when he'd catch a guy checking her out.

The party that night occurred as promised, and the only thing that flowed more freely than the alcohol was the music, which somehow seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Conversation was shouted when it happened, and so instead they danced and drank, both of them perhaps doing their best to forget that this would be their last real time together for potentially a long time. Once Chelsea realized that Brian's attention would be focused on Ashley for the duration of the night she had broken off from them, and as the pair fell together onto a busted, old couch, he saw her disappearing through a door with a drunk, happy frat boy in tow.

A small island in the chaos seemed to form as they sat together, her head gradually falling onto his shoulder, his own cheek leaned against the top of her head. For a short time they sat that way, he taking the occasional drink from a clear plastic cup that he'd ringed his thumb and forefinger around the base of, she doing the same from a cup that was even emptier than his. Brian had lost count of how many he had, had never really started to keep count to begin with, but despite the alcohol flowing through his veins, a single clear thought burned bright, a lone candle in a vast dark room.

His hand moved to her thigh, large enough that it almost seemed he could close it fully around her leg, and he gave her a quick, firm squeeze. His head lifted from hers as hers lifted from his shoulder to look at him, and in her eyes he saw the glazed look of drunkenness he knew she must see in his. The candle burned brighter as he looked at her, the room that was his mind illuminated more and showing him that there was nothing right then, nothing anywhere but that single lone idea. A second ticked by, the bass of the music palpable in his chest, and then it fell away.

His eyes closed, his body shifted so he faced her more, and with a finger hooked under her chin, he brought his lips to hers.

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

The party on the University of Washington campus was just like any other frat party. New pledges were paraded through, forced to wear their tighty whities with obscenities inked in permanent marker on their skin. They were in charge of making sure the kegs were full, the food was stocked, and the alcohol flowed. And for putting up with some hazing that Ashley made sure to stay from away from. Sometimes the dares they were given included messing with or doing things to onlookers, so Ashley always stayed at a safe distance.

That safe distance was Brian.

Not once did Ashley stray from his side. It was their last night together, right? Or at least, until he'd get a leave to come back. Whenever that would be. Their reunion was a definite, but the when remained unknown. After being inseparable for over five years, living across the country from him sounded absolutely awful. Heart-wrenching, even. Even with so many distractions, loud music, dancing, drunk shouting, and drinking games, the smallest of things would make Ashley remember what she'd be missing.

The way he smiled, when he thought he was being funny. The way his laugh got louder when he was drunk. A simple scratch of his chin, when he was thinking. The way he broke eye contact with girls when he lost interest. Shit.

Call her a cock-blocking friend, but she didn't leave her best friend's side all night. Chelsea's advances were quickly put to a stop when it was clear that Ashley wasn't going anywhere. Every time a girl brought Brian a shot, Ashley would take one with them. Every time a girl would touch his arm, she'd clear her throat. This was about spending their last night together. Even if being a really good friend would help him get laid.

But Ashley was much more selfish than that.

After two drinking games, it didn't take long for Ashley to feel her buzz first. It was either take a shot, or take off an article of clothing. She kept drinking, but knew when to cut herself off. When dancing soon made her clumsy, Brian knew better than anyone that it was time to sit. She chose to ignore the warmth of his big band on her back as he led her over to that empty couch, and they both claimed it together. With a satisfied sigh, Ashley leaned against his shoulder for support, holding that drink in her hand, carefully. She didn't know why she still had it. The beer was warm by now, and she didn't want to drink anymore. She wanted to remember this night. Their last night, in who knew how long.

Staring ahead, feeling his shoulders and chest rise and fall with each breath, the music in the room drowned out most of the noise. Except her thoughts.

Was this it? The end of a fucking era stopped here, at this frat party, on this couch? Ashley tried not to let the emotions sweep over her. Alcohol always did make her a little more sensitive than usual. Before she could let her thoughts continue to wander, his free hand was coming down to rest on her leg. Her thigh. She felt the warmth in his hand again, even through the denim, and then he squeezed. Just that one, quick, simple squeeze, and a lift from his chin in her hair, and she knew what he wanted. What she wanted.

It wouldn't be the first time, but maybe it would be the last.

That blonde-headed girl lifted her head from his broad shoulder, and her head turned. For a brief moment, they just gazed back at each other. Not questioning what the other wanted. Confirming it. They were drunk. This is just what...sometimes happened, right? Maybe kissing him, her best friend, would heal the ache of him leaving tomorrow.

Ashley's blue eyes fluttered closed after his, and his warm mouth found hers easily, as if he knew the way to them, blindly. His lips were soft, but masculine, and they pressed against hers gently and so slowly. It was nothing like their first drunken kiss, which had been more aggressive and eager. But that had been a long time coming, really.

Kissing him again, and again, each kiss warming her more and more, that blonde head began to tilt back. Accommodating his mouth, and that strong hand that moved from her chin, to her jaw, to the side of her neck. No matter how warm she was, it didn't stop the goosebumps from forming as those fingers grazed the flesh of her skin and curled behind the back of her neck, under her ponytail. If his point was to keep her from pulling away, he didn't need to worry about that.

The girlish whimper that escaped her lips was inaudible in that loud room, but there was no doubt he could feel her breath and the vibration against his wonderful mouth. He tasted like beer, and vodka. And she wanted to drink those lips in all night and find out just where else he could give her goosebumps if he let his hand explore further. Reaching forward, her free hand grasped at his shirt in attempt to pull him closer. She fisted the loose fabric of his shirt in her fingers, practically desperate for more. God, they might regret this in the morning, but she just wanted to fucking feel something!

Before that slow, deep kiss could continue anywhere else, Ashley heard a familiar sob. At first, she chose to ignore it. But then, the cries were closer.

"Ashley!" Chelsea choked a sob, crying out as she stumbled over to the drunk friends on the old couch. Completely oblivious, or choosing to ignore the fact that they were making out.

Grumbling, Ashley pulled away from those delicious lips and turned to glare up at her roommate. But almost immediately, her pretty face soften. Chelsea looked like a fucking wreck. Her long auburn hair that had once been curled, was a mess. She definitely had sex hair. Her make up was smeared, and her crying wasn't helping.

"Chels, oh my god, what happened?" She sat up straighter, but Brian was the first to stand. She knew that look on his face. Firm. Protective. After standing up, Ashley could now see that her roommate was bleeding. "What happened to your neck?"

"I don't know!" She wailed, a higher pitch her voice. "One minute we were just fooling around on the bed, and he was biting my neck. It fucking hurt, but it was sexy as shit. And the next thing I know, he started biting harder and wouldn't fucking -stop-! I fucking screamed and he wouldn't let go! Two guys came in and tried to hold him down, they're still up there. Ash, please, I want to go." For the first time, Ashley felt no jealousy as her roommate grabbed on to Brian and sobbed into his chest, getting blood on his shirt. She felt horrible. Here she'd been, making out with Brian, uncaring about the consequences, and poor Chelsea had been upstairs, almost raped.

Looking at Brian, Ashley knew that their moment of weakness was over, even if a little bit of heat still burned in those crystal blue eyes of hers. She could deal with apologizing to Brian later, after they went back to the dorm.

"Come on, we'll walk back to the room." Ash nodded, promising her roommate as she pulled her from Brian's arms and into her own. Those two girls followed Brian out of the frat house, not knowing their exit might have saved their life.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His thoughts were a jumble, somehow knowing that this was different than any time they'd drunkenly kissed in the past, and yet he had no desire, perhaps no ability, to stop it. He wondered, even as he tasted her through the alcohol on the breath of them both, whether he was truly as drunk as he thought he was, or whether it was more the liquid courage he was after. It was the last night for a long time, his thoughts tumbled to this next even as his hands moved along the smooth line of her jaw and his fingers curled around the back of her neck, the last night for a length of time neither of them knew or, from this vantage point, could measure, and this would be what they left each other with, this night, and this kiss and any that followed it, and more his thoughts tumbled as she grabbed his shirt, the desire within him changing, wanting to lift her off this couch, out of this house, carry her back to her room, lock the door and push every piece of furniture up against it save for one, and on that one-

His brow furrowed even before he realized the cry was familiar, before it had spoken her name, his heartbeat taking on a somehow different and more urgent beat, but he fought it the way one fought to stay asleep so they may linger in the dream a bit longer. Just as it was with sleep, however, once aware of being there it was impossible to stay, and Brian's lips broke from Ashley's just as Chelsea arrived, choking out more sobs. The switch that flipped within him was automatic, his hand leaving Ashley's and unconsciously finding their way into fists as he stood quickly, and only a little unsteadily, from the couch.

Chelsea was in his arms before he had a chance to do anything else, and it was then that he saw the blood on her neck. Brian's eyes widened at the sight of it on her skin, and he looked wildly up at Ashley, mouthing to her What the fuck? His stance softened a bit as Chelsea cried into his shirt, his hands relaxing and arms moving around her. It was time to comfort her now, but at his first opportunity he'd find whoever the asshole was and beat him until he had to stop from exhaustion. Against his chest, he felt the wetness of her tears and the sticky warmth of blood, telling him that the beating would have to wait until later.

As Ashley pulled her from him, he relented and let her go into the arms of her roommate. With a hand on Ashley's back, he followed closed behind as they made their way out, the crowd parting as people saw the bloodied and crying girl. The cooler night air hit him as they neared the door, helping to clear his mind further of the alcohol that it still waded in, and as they emerged into the soggy darkness, Brian cast a quick glance back into the building.

Across the room, two guys were forcing a third towards a back door as the man he saw Chelsea with earlier flailed and gnashed his teeth at them. It was only the quickest of glimpses, but he would swear that there was blood staining his teeth, and one of the arms hauling him away seemed to have a chunk taken out of it. All of it flashed past in less than two seconds, the crowd moving back to block his view from seeing anymore, and Chelsea's sobbing stopping him from lingering further to investigate. Still, it wasn't the way people typically acted, and Brian wondered if there was some drugs going around in there that he'd managed to avoid seeing. Perhaps Chelsea needing them would turn out to be a good thing, because getting busted for being at a party with drugs that caused whatever the hell was going on would be rather frowned upon by his CO.

Progress was slow with Chelsea still sobbing and Ashley walking awkwardly with the other girl against her, but eventually the sounds of the party receded into near nothingness, and they reached the dorm. The three paused at the bottom of the stairs, and then Brian steered the sobbing girl back to him, and lifted her into his arms. A slight, silent shrug was cast in Ashley's direction, and they made their way up the stairs.

Chelsea had quieted by the time they reached their room, and seemed nearly asleep when Brian lowered her carefully onto her bed. Ashley brought a first aid kit her stepfather had made her take, something she'd rolled her eyes about at the time but now proved to be quite useful, and Brian used some of the alcohol wipes to clean the wound as best he could. Wiping away the blood revealed teeth marks pressed into her soft flesh, and jagged edges of skin where it had been torn away, and he couldn't help but to visibly wince at the sight of it. A thick clump of antibiotic ointment was put atop the wound, and then covered in clean gauze and held in place with white medical tape. It was only when he finished that he realized Chelsea hadn't moved during the whole process, and now lay in her dress, breathing slowly and evenly. Kneeling there by her bed still, he looked up to Ashley where she stood next to him with the kit still in her hands, and shrugged.

"I think we should just leave her, if she's asleep," he whispered, his eyes shifting back to the girl stretched out before them. "I'm sure she could use it. We'll take her to the medical office in the morning."

With that, he stood and looked down at his blood-stained shirt, then back over to Ashley.

"I can wash this after we get her taken care of in the morning, but.." his voice trailed off, and with another shrug he pulled the shirt over his head, then folded it so the blood stain was on the inside, and tossed it on the floor by the foot of Ashley's bed. "We should get some sleep, too. We need to get her down there as soon as she wakes up."

In one of her boxes, Brian had tossed a pair of shorts as they loaded up his car, intending to sleep in those and his t-shirt and then drive back home the next day. Blood wasn't in the plan, and so it was only the shorts he stepped into as they stood with their backs to each other and changed for bed. The unhooking of her bra was quiet but audible in the silent room, and for a brief moment Brian returned in his mind to the couch, to her lips and the feel her skin under his hands, and he wanted to turn around and feel more of it. Then the girl in the bed took an audibly deep breath, and Brian realized now was neither the time or the place. Maybe it was never, and nowhere.

As they had so many times when growing up, Ashley laid her head on his chest once in bed, and the smell of her hair filled his nostrils. He breathed deeply, watching her head rise in the darkness as his chest lifted, and then fall again as he exhaled. There were so many things to be said between them right then, so much they may never have the opportunity to say again, and in a shared moment they may not have again for a very long time.

But just as before, there was the girl in the bed nearby, and all that had happened, and in his mind he saw them pushing the flailing, wild man away just before he disappeared from view, and it all left him empty of words. So much to say, and nothing to say it with. A painter without his paints, a musician without his instrument. And so he simply laid with her, and listened to her breath, and inhaled the scent of her hair as he drifted off to sleep with an arm around her lithe, warm shape.






It was sleep he wanted to remain in this time, though he'd had a dream or two of her lips while he'd been there. But he was being shaken, weakly and clumsily but shaken still, and whoever was doing it was getting goddamn annoying, but they just wouldn't let him stay asleep. Consciousness slowly filtered back, like water making it's way through coffee grounds and filter, realizations coming in drips. The warmth next to him was Ashley's body, both of them on their sides and turned towards the wall, her body curled into his and his arm around her middle. The shaking, then, was coming from behind him, but who was...

Chelsea.

The bite.

Shit.

His eyes popped open suddenly, the untamed mass of Ashley's hair on her pillow the first thing he saw, and then a strange gurgling sound found his ears, and the blanket that covered them was shifted and tugged on again. Turning halfway away from Ashley, his head turned the rest of the way so he could see how Chelsea was doing, and let her know the plan to get her to the medical office.

"Chels, were you able to-" his eyes widened when he saw her, the gauze over her wound soaked through with dried blood, and her mouth hanging open below eyes that stared almost blankly at him while her hands seemed to try to find a way at him through the covers.

"What the fuck!"

His voice came out louder than expected, the shock of her state catching him off guard, and his voice seemed to redirect her towards his head. Mouth open, she lunged for his head, and a hard shove with one hand was the only thing that saved him from having a chunk of his cheek taken out by her. Next to him, Ashley stirred, but Chelsea was already rebounding off the bed across from them and still seemed intending to bite him. The way she gnashed her teeth as she pushed herself up from the bed like the man he'd caught a glimpse of the night before sent a chill down his spine, and his threw off the blankets and turned fully in the bed. Another hard shove sent her back to her own bed, and Brian followed close behind her, nearly yelling at Ashley as he did.

"Ash, wake up! Chelsea needs help!"

He landed atop the other girl, and straddled her body with his knees on either side of her torso. Catching a wrist in each hand, he pinned her under him on the bed, through the girl still bucked under him, her teeth clicking together repeatedly.

"Just run, get anyone from the medical station. Hurry!"

His attention returned entirely to the girl under him now, and he was horrified at the change he saw in her. She was still recognizable as the same person, but gone was the gleam in her eye, almost as if what was under him was just the shell of the attractive girl he once knew. Whatever this was, it had done a number on her overnight.

Gradually, she relaxed under him to the point that she was barely moving, though she still stared up at him.

"I'm going to let you go, okay?" he said down to her, his hands still tight around her thin wrists, "Just relax. Ashley is getting help, we'll have someone here for you in just a minute. Okay?"

He waited, and with no response given, slowly released her wrists. She remained mostly still under him, and he moved off from atop her. Turning from her, he moved to retrieve his shirt when he heard her rising up off the bed again, and he shook his head as he scooped up the shirt.

"Chels, seriously, rel- fuck!"

His words were cut off again as the girl lunged for him, and another shove made her stumble back away from him.

"Chelsea, what's going on? Can you hear me?" He was yelling now, his voice echoing out into the hall as his heart thudded in his chest, and he felt the familiar surge in his veins and metallic taste in his mouth as adrenaline was dumped into his bloodstream. This was clearly more than just a crazy high, and for the first time since he woke up, he felt like the girl who moved towards him again was a real danger.

"Chelsea!"

He yelled again as he shoved her back once more, taking a step forward as he did, leaving less distance between them again.

"Chelsea, it's me!"

Another shove, another step forward, but she proved to be relentless, continuing after him now no matter how he yelled or drove her back.

"Goddammit, Chelsea!"

The final shove, aided by the adrenaline that flowed through him, was harder than intended, and Brian watched in horror as she stumbled back into window behind her, shattering it and tumbling back through it and toward the ground three floors below, out of his view. Behind him, he heard Ashley scream from the doorway, and he glanced back at her wide-eyed and in disbelief, and then turned back to the naked window, half expecting it to have been a terrible vision and for the girl to still be there.

Instead, he was met only with a slight, cool breeze that whispered past his slack jaw, and the emptiness of the space that had once been taken up by the girl who only hours before had been flirting with him in that very space.

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

Ashley still couldn't believe how one turn of events could twist her whole night around. One minute, she was kissing her best friend on an old couch in a frat house, desperate for more, and the next minute she had her sobbing roommate in her arms and she was taking her back to their room.

At the bottom of the stairs, Brian's strength when he picked up Chelsea didn't surprise her. How many times had he carried her to bed when he snuck her in at home after many high school parties? And how many times had he swept her up in those strong arms of his, carrying her off her feet, only to throw her into the lake? They had a lot of summers like that. But....was it the alcohol now that made her wish it was her being carried back to the room? Yes, it had to be. She was no stranger when it came to jealousy and Brian's relationship with his girlfriends, but she couldn't be that selfish. Chelsea was hurt, and clearly distraught. And still bleeding.

Once they got back to the room, Ashley let Brian carry Chelsea over to her own bed while she turned on the lights and the lamp next to her bed. When she joined Brian beside Chelsea's bed, she held out that first aid kid and let him clean and tend to Chels' wound. He would serve well in the Army, she knew. He was calm and his hands were still, much more than hers would have been just at the sight of a little blood on her friend's neck.

"I think we should just leave her, if she's asleep," Brian was whispering, and Ashley nodded in agreement. "I'm sure she could use it. We'll take her to the medical office in the morning." Ashley couldn't argue; it did sound like a good plan. There was nothing else they could do now. While that crazy freak had bit her roommate and drew blood, the shock of it all had probably worn Chelsea out. But still, they needed to take her to the medical center in the morning to get her taken care of properly.

"Thanks for taking care of her, Brian." She closed the medical kit that she'd have to thank her step-dad for later, and she placed it on the dresser next to her bed. "It's not exactly what I planned for our last night." The blonde laughed nervously, and watched him undress his shirt. Fucking tequila. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, and her heart was pounding just as loudly in her chest as it was when he'd kissed her on that couch. His fingers tangling and combing through her hair. Her head tilting. Lips parting.

Ugh.

Like they so often did, the two dressed back to back. The sound of her bra snapping, the sound of jeans being unzipped...they might as well be right in front of each other, because they heard every noise, and every rustle of clothes. Ashley's clothes fell to the floor at her bare feet after her shoes had been kicked off, and she lazily kicked them into her closet wardrobe to put in the hamper later. She dressed in a short pair of white cotton shorts and a loose-fitting tank top, even if the fabric did hug her chest a little tighter. Neither bra or underwear was put on beneath them, but it was clear to her that her clothes would be staying on tonight. Chelsea's drama had practically sobered them both. Without an excuse of being drunk, it would be fucking awkward and hard for Ashley to put a blame on her actions in the morning. Why did she have such courage and such confidence with other members of the opposite sex, but never him? Why were they both so scared of fucking up?

Maybe because all other relationships usually fell to their doom, and she wanted at least one good one to outlive the rest. Of course, the only way to do that was to make rules. Draw lines. Lines and rules that seemed to disappear when they were drinking.

Crawling into bed with Brian, the bedside lamp was switched off and she leaned in to place her pretty head on his strong chest. He radiated warmth, and Ashley curled up closer against his side and closed her eyes. When would she get to be with him again, like this? Her blonde head rose and fell with his chest, and it didn't take long for her own heart to match the beat of his. Her own breathing soon fell into the same rhythm, and together their chests rose, and fell. Inhale, and exhale, as if they were one.

They wouldn't have a talk tonight. He wouldn't get to hear how much she was going to miss him until the morning, when he had to leave. Already, she'd miss the fact that any time she needed him, all she had to do was call. One call, one text, and he'd be there. Of course, that had always pissed off his current relationships and definitely gave people like her step-dad more suspicions about just how deep their friendship was. But it went both ways. And now with him leaving for Fort Benning, he'd be 2,000 miles away. She didn't even want to admit how much that fact made her chest ache with pain.





It was a wonder at all how Ashley got any sleep with how much her mind had been wandering all throughout the night. She had the mental thoughts like a good on Christmas; the sooner she went to sleep, the faster morning would come. Only this wasn't Christmas, it was goodbye. And she didn't want morning to come at all.

Too early in the morning, Ashley felt Brian's body pressed behind her, his heavy arm draped over her. He was moving, and saying something. Still in her half-asleep state, his words sounded far away. She groaned in annoyance, wanting to kick him to go back to sleep.

"Shut up," She mumbled, turning her face into her pillow. But she felt more movement in the bed, and she swore she could kill Brian for moving so heavily in that small bed. On that twin mattress, she could feel everything. And before she could grumble at him some more, he shouted,

"Ash, wake up! Chelsea needs help!"

Blue eyes immediately shut open, suddenly alert and awake. Chelsea. Needs help. Shit! Spinning away from the wall, Ashley sat up, her blonde hair a mess, to find Brian straddling Chelsea, holding her by her wrists and pinning her down while her roommate snapped at him and wriggled beneath him.

"Oh my god," Ashley gasped, sitting up on her knees on the bed before her bare feet finally touched the cold floor. "What's wrong with her?" Ashley was absolutely stunned, unsure what to do. Chelsea's face looked so pale, with the slightest tint of blue on her cheeks. Those eyes of hers that she often tried to seduce Brian with were unfocused. Foggy-looking. She didn't recognize her roommate there beneath him.

"Just run, get anyone from the medical station. Hurry!" Brian was urging her, and all Ashley could do was nod quickly. Yes, he was definitely more equipped to handle a situation like this. Without him, who knows how Ashley would have had to restrain her roommate and help her. Or find the logical train of thought to get help from someone from the medical office across campus.

"Shit, yeah. Okay!" Snapping out of her useless nodding that was helping no one, Ashley spun on her bare feet, slipped on her flip flops, and bolted out the door. She heard it shut behind her, but she didn't get very far.

For 7am in a dorm, there should have been no activity. There were no classes yet, everyone should still be hungover and sleeping until noon. But she could hear things being thrown in other rooms. People shouting, yelling, their voices echoing through the stairwell. It was absolute madness and chaos, and when someone ran by her down the hall, Ashley's fingers stretched out and she grabbed them.

"Wh--what's going on?" She asked, almost desperately. "Please, we need help! My roommate--" Ashley tried to explain, but the other girl was shrugging Ashley's hand off of her, jerking away as if the very touch from her would kill her.

"Stay away from me, everyone's gone crazy! Trying to fucking kill each other! Don't fucking touch me!" The other girl screamed and ran off, leaving Ashley there in the hall.

She backed herself against the hallway wall, panicked, confused, and so fucking scared. She could hear more screams echoing down the hall, unsure of the exact location. Shit, how the hell was she supposed to go down there? Pushing herself from the wall, Ashley bolted back to her room again. She had to tell Brian, she had to get them all out of there. Reaching forward, Ashley pushed open her door, and her eyes shot up at that exact moment that Brian's strong hands pushed Chelsea out the large window. Glass shattered, and all she could see was her roommate of three years still reaching and trying to grab Brian before she fell out of sight. From the doorframe, Ashley screamed.

After the sight had settled in, she ran toward the window. She cut her fingers on the glass on the bottom of the window frame as she set her hand down on it and looked down to see if her roommate was all right. It was only three stories, maybe she was still okay. But much to her horror, she found, Chelsea's body still. Her neck snapped and leg twisted. Ashley's throat made something that sounded a lot like a gagging sound as she cupped her mouth, tears in her eyes, and she looked away. Brian was standing there with her now, getting a look for himself.

"What did you do?"

How the fuck did they get here? Was she still dreaming? She had to be. This couldn't be real. She wanted to wake the fuck up. Now.

"What the fuck? Ash, look." Brian called out to her, putting his hand on her arm. Slowly, Ashley turned her messy blonde head around and looked back down again. In the grass, she could see Chelsea moving. She was alive! Those pretty, blue, teary eyes widened with relief. But...wait. Her neck had been broken. Her fucking leg! Even from the third story, they could hear Chelsea's inhumane groan, and then a high-pitched wail that gave her chills all over her body. Ashley and Brian were long forgotten to Chelsea. When someone was running out the front entrance of the dorm, Ashley recognized it as the girl that she had stopped in the hallway. Another wail escaped Chelsea's throat loudly, and she limped after the girl, trying to chase her.

Ashley didn't even realize that she was trembling. Her whole body was shaking, and Brian tried to still her as his big hands were suddenly on her shoulders. When that didn't work, he put them on her face, forcing her to look at him. Finally, those eyes focused, finding his. Staying there. His handsome face looked firm and strong. Collected. But she knew he was just as confused and scared as she was. She could feel his heavy breath on her face, which meant his heart was racing just as fast as hers.

"Shoes, I need shoes." She was saying, even though she knew it wouldn't make any sense to him. To him, he probably thought she was losing it. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, before she finally opened them again, and put her hands around his wrists as he continued to hold her face and get her to focus. She knew her tears were falling onto his thumbs, but he didn't seem to care; he only wiped them away for her. It was a little embarrassing that even right then, between the chaos and madness, she wanted to kiss him.

"We need to get help. The girl...there was a girl, out in the hall. She said everyone had gone crazy. Trying to kill each other, or something. B--Brian, we have to go. I don't know what's going on, but we'll figured it out. I just want to get out here, please." She pleaded, desperate to get out and not stay in that room a second longer. "But I need shoes."

Ashley got ready the quickest she'd ever gotten ready for anything. This time, she didn't care if Brian was watching. She underdressed, put on a new bra, panties, jean shorts, and a purple UW Huskies hoodie over her shirt. Next came on the socks and tennis shoes, instead of sandals that would get her nowhere, and then she tied up that beautiful, long, messy blonde hair into a ponytail before she grabbed her phone and he found his keys on her dresser.

She barely even had time to reach for the door again before Brian grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. The second that door opened, it was like someone had turned up the volume. Screams echoed from every direction, and wails and cries that were similar to Chelsea's joined in the horrific noises. Ashley squeezed his hand tighter.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Sometimes, things spiraled out of control. Sometimes the situation dictated your actions, instead of your actions dictating the situation. Sometimes, when things seemed craziest, it turned out to only be an appetizer of things to come.

Since the moment he woke up - had been woken up, more accurately - nothing made sense. He'd heard yelling in the hallway when Ashley had opened the door, but only now did it really occur to him that this was out of place. There was fear in those sounds, real terror that had no place in the rooms of a college dorm. He knew the sound all too well. Far too many times growing up, his father had extracted it from him. The bastard seemed to thrive on it, be energized by the anxiety and fear in his young son's eyes. Once he fulled realized what that sound was, the scene before him took on a new face altogether.

Ashley moved past him, seemingly in slow motion, and still he just stared. Fear behind. Empty window before. What the fuck was happening?

The bright red of blood on a shard of glass pulled him out of it, at least a little, and he managed to make his feet carry him to stand beside her. To lean forward, and look at his handiwork. To see what would change his life forever. She was dead. He knew she was dead. She had to be dead. There was no way she fell out a window that way, this high up, and survived. Not when she already seemed so sick on top of it. Not when-

"I..."

Her question pulled him from the sight of her roommate, neck and leg twisted in an unnatural fashion, and he shook his head slowly.

"I don't... she...."

He looked back out the window, as if somehow she would no longer be there, as if the sight of her laying there couldn't possibly be real, none of this could possibly be real, and another look out the window would show-

"What the fuck?"

He blurted it out, confusion seasoned with his own brand of terror the only tone in his voice. She was moving, in her own slow motion, unnatural way, and the mystery of the day only deepened.

"Ash... look."

His voice sounded distant to him, not entirely his, even as Ashley responded to it and turned to look where he did. The girl's head straightened horribly, tilted oddly to the side on a neck that was clearly not together anymore, and the sound that floated up to them was the only indication that the girl even seemed aware of this. He waited for her to look up at them, look up at where she had fallen from, but she seemed as if she didn't even know they were up there. As if she'd woken up there on the ground below, and there was no question as to how or why. As if the only thing that existed for her was this moment, and it was forgotten as soon as it had slipped past.

Her dress was torn immodestly, he saw as she stood and listed awkwardly to one side on her broken leg, one of her breasts exposed to any who looked... but then he realized, as he tore her eyes from her, that no one was looking. No one cared about the girl that had fallen out a window, because they were concerned with their own private horror. Or seemed to be as uncaring as Chelsea was now. People ran, others ambled after them or seemed to just stagger aimlessly. An area that had been filled with cars and parents and students moving in now seemed to be a strange, surreal kind of war zone.

And off in the distance, where they had danced and drank and kissed only hours before, a fire raged. The large Greek letters that had hung on the front of the house were consumed, signs turned the kindling, and only the sound of the broken girl below could draw his attention away from it.

He watched as a girl emerged below them, running frantically as soon as she was free of the door, and Chelsea's full attention was drawn to her. She ambled on the broken leg after the girl, another terrible growl drifting up to them as she did. His mind shifted into gear as another horrible scream shot down the hallway outside, and he knew they had to get out of there. Now.

Stepping back from the open window, he looked to Ashley and could see the shaking that rattled her body. First he drew in a long breath, exhaling slowly, and then he took her shoulders in his hands. She shook still, trembling like the open window next to them was letting in an arctic blast of air, and so he took her face in his hands instead, and forced her to look up at him. She talked about shoes, and she was right, but... not yet. She had to have a level head on her if they were going to make it out of whatever the fuck this was alive.

Gently, he wiped away the tears that streaked her cheeks, the pads of his thumbs light on her skin, and he nodded to her slowly.

"Just breathe, first. We need to be careful. I don't know what's going on, but... we have to be careful, Ash. Keep our heads together and we'll make it out. Okay?"

He nodded as she told him about the girl in the hall, about everyone going crazy, and filed the information away for later. Right now, they were simply in a dangerous and clearly unpredictable situation, and they needed to get out. Whatever it was, Chelsea had clearly fallen victim to it, and so he only had one concern he'd allow himself to focus on now: Get Ashley out.

"Shoes, yeah. And.. grab an extra change of clothes."

They both dressed quickly, with him reluctantly putting on the shirt Chelsea had bled on the night before, and then the canvas jacket he'd worn on top of it. Throwing open her closet, he found the girl's backpack, and dumped the books out of it and onto her bed. The first aid kit was the first thing he made sure to put inside it, along with the change of clothes he'd brought with him for the drive home today. The idea that he should be driving home right now, leaving Ashley behind, seemed to be an event designed for a different world than this. One where nightmares disappeared when you woke up.

A large hoodie of Chelsea's went in next, something she'd thankfully kept from an ex-boyfriend that just may fit him if he needed. Lastly, he pulled a cotton t-shirt from her closet, and tore it into a long strip.

"Come here," he said, motioning for her to hold her bleeding hand out for him. The cotton was wound around it a couple times, and then tied into a knot on the top of her hand. Turning it over, he watched for a moment to make sure she wasn't bleeding through it, and then nodded to himself, satisfied.

Turning back to get the backpack, he heard her open the door and the room seemed to overflow with the sounds of chaos. People yelled and ran by in a flash, doors were pounded on, things heavy and breakable crashed on floors and against walls. Reaching out, he pulled her back into the room and moved in front of her. Whatever was waiting out there, he was not going to let her venture into it first. She had a family that would be worried about her, and would be devastated if she suffered the same fate as Chelsea. He had... her.

Grabbing her good hand, he took his first slow step into the hallway. Looking in both directions, it seemed to be deserted for the moment but was otherwise utterly trashed. Clothes and furniture, books and tvs were everywhere. Many doors were open, a cone of light from inside the room spilling out into the hallway. Others were closed, and he dared not attempt to open any of them.

He left her door open behind them as well, the room forgotten as soon as they were outside of it. His car was the planned destination, but first they had to get clear of this building. Three floors.

"Eyes open, Ash," he said in a low voice, giving her hand another squeeze. "If you see something, tell me. But we have to keep moving."

He stopped, looked back at her.

"No matter what. Keep moving."

The implication was clear: whether he made it or not, whether they saw friends of hers or not, they kept moving.

The hallway was traversed in relative ease, though the stairway was clogged with more debris. On the second floor landing, a body slumped against the wall. Above it, a large circle of blood painted the wall, trails tracing down to where their source slumped. The skull was caved in, and the instrument that had done the caving, an aluminum baseball bat, had rolled against the wall, itself covered in blood.

"Keep your eyes up, Ash. I know you want to look, but don't. Just keep moving. Eyes up!"

He stooped as they rounded the corner for one flight of stairs to the other and scooped up the bat with his empty hand. The chaos seemed worse on each floor as they went, but the majority of it was confined to the hallways and rooms, leaving them to navigate the stairs as quickly as they could.

They emerged out of the building, and any hopes they had that things would be calmer outside were dashed right away. The air was dominated by the acrid burning of the large house in the distance, a fire that had jumped to a neighboring house since he'd seen it last, people seemed torn between trying to get back into the dorms to try to find safety inside, and getting out because of the horrors contained within them. He cared about none of it, as long as it didn't get in their way.

Standing side by side for a moment, still holding her hand, he took a few precious seconds to survey the area. Whatever had happened to Chelsea had clearly spread to many others, though exactly what it was he had no idea. Some kind of crazy virus, perhaps? Though they seemed fine.

His eyes settled then on a man wearing only a tattered pair of shorts, who had a large and quite bloody gash where a chunk had been taken out of his side. While that alone may have been bad enough, it was what he what he was doing as he bent over an unmoving body, like a lion over a gazelle, that caused bile to rise up in the back of his throat. Swallowing against it, he gave her hand a firm squeeze, and looked at her.

"Eyes open. Keep moving."

A scream far too close for comfort rose above the terrible din, and he knew their time here was well and truly up.

"Let's get the fuck out of here, Ash. Run!"

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

No matter what. Keep moving.

At least, that was the one thing Ashley could do. Her roommate had gone crazy this morning, was pushed out of their dorm window, snapped her neck, and walked away from the injury like she'd only broken a nail. Now other college students were attacking each other inside the dorm hall. With her heart racing as fast as it was, it was hard to do anything but move right now. High on adrenaline, Ashley couldn't sit around and do nothing. If they had waited for help that never came, chances were, they'd miss their chance to make it out of there.

Holding Brian's larger hand, Ashley had no idea how tightly she was squeezing it. She worried if she let go even the slightest, he'd slip from her fingers. Looking down, Ashley swore she could see blood-stained footprints on the carpeted hallway beneath her. Then a pair of feet.

"Keep your eyes up, Ash. I know you want to look, but don't. Just keep moving. Eyes up!" Brian's voice called out to her among the cloudy haze in her mind. She didn't even let her eyes rise to look at the body on the ground, she only lifted those pretty blues to look up and find his shoulder. Yes, she'd stare there. Ahead.

Watch Brian, stay close. Don't look at anything. Keep moving. Don't freak out. Don't panic, you're going to make it.

The stairs, thankfully, were their safest bet. The chaos had found itself on the lower levels of the dorm, but she was sure that in no time at all it would be working its way up. They needed down. Out. Now. Ashley's legs felt numb, and yet they still carried her down those stairs as fast as she could keep up. Step by step, sometimes skipping a few just to keep up the pace with Brian. She couldn't lose him.

Once outside, Ashley and Brian halted on the sidewalk, hand in hand, looking around. She heard screams in the distance. She could smell the smoke of burning houses where they stood. Just across the way was another dorm, and she shot her head around just in time to see a girl jumping from the sixth floor, trying to escape the madness that had been inside her room. But after she jumped, she didn't get up. Not like Chelsea had. Ashley wanted to run to the other girl's aid and help her, but others were already running toward her. But not to help. Appalled, Ashley watched three other students fall to their knees next to the girl, and bite her. One dug their flat, human teeth into her shoulder. Another, into her arm.

"I--I'm going to be sick." She stammered, her voice weak with the nausea creeping up from her stomach to her chest. She wanted to bend over and retch right there, but there was no time. There were more screams and wails, closer this time, and they had to get to the car. Just standing there was making them stand out just as much as the screams, fires, and people eating other people.

Ashley may not have been the tallest, most strongest person, but one thing she did know how to do was run. It felt as if someone else was possessing her legs, making her run faster than she ever remembered running before. She lifted her knees high, her arms pumping at her sides, and her bag thumped at her back as she sprinted to the parking lot with Brian. The closer they approached, Ashley found that multiple car alarms were going off, and windows were smashed in almost every car. A thief had tried to break inside almost every car in that parking lot, and it was hard not to panic with fear that Brian's car might be gone as well.

It wasn't.

They found it right where they left it.

Stopping at the car, Ashley waited for Brian to fish out his keys from his bag as she spun around in a circle and panted heavily. Half exhaustion from the sprint, half from fear. She folded her hands on top of her head because that just seemed like the natural thing to do, as a runner, when out of breath.

"Hurry," Ashley pressed, seeing others closeby. She didn't know how to tell who was like them, and who were the people attacking others. Everyone looked the same. Some were just...more bloody than others. "Brian, seriously. Come on!" She shouted at him, her hand slapping against the top of the roof as the sound echoed and only added to the musical nightmare around them. It wasn't the first time Ashley had yelled at Brian, and it probably would be the last. What best friends didn't fight, or bicker?

Before Brian could even glance up to glare or snap her at her, she felt someone pushing her. The heavy weight of a body tackled her to the ground. When Ashley rolled onto her back, she glanced up to find a boy around her age, with the same pale and glassy eyes that she had remembered finding in Chelsea's. He was big, heavy, likely a football player from his build, which made it nearly impossible to push the boy off of her as she struggled to kick and shoved him off.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, her voice filled with panic. She flexed and stretched her arms, blood all over her clothes now from the flesh wounds in his thigh and shoulder. Every muscle of her tired body ached from trying to keep him from biting her. And yet, she wondered, would Brian leave her? Would he get scared and take off? A large part of her that knew and loved her best friend of many years told her that was the last thing she needed to worry about. But would she really blame him if he did leave? Maybe not. Maybe he'd make it further away from here without her. Maybe he didn't need her.

Suddenly, the weight of the boy's body was off her, and Ashley was able to roll back onto her stomach so she could crawl up to her feet again. It was Brian who had shoved the football player off of her, punching him again, and again. The boy with the pale eyes kept coming back up for more. Helpless, Ashley threw her bag in the car and got inside once she found that Brian had unlocked it in the meantime. He'd leave the keys on his seat, and she reached over to start it, tempted to crawl into the driver's side herself.

"Brian, get in. Let's go!" She called out to him, confused and unsure why the football player couldn't be knocked out. By the way Brian had went after him, the other guy should have been dead by now.

Shutting her door, Ashley immediately he locked the door beside her and found that being inside that small car gave her no comfort or sense of safety. She could hear Brian's heavy breath as he started the car, his bloodied hands freakishly steady.

"Brian, get us out of here." She pleaded, her cheeks wet again as she strapped on her seatbelt. She screamed when someone threw their body against his side of the car, smearing blood on the glass, but Brian's foot on the gas kept them moving as they backed out of the space and took off out of the parking lot. Through her own window, Ashley could only stare out in utter shock as she watched classmates attacking each other, tearing each other apart, running across the campus grass in their pajamas and bare feet to get away from the crawling, beating, mauling, biting. On one of the back roads that would normally take them down Sorority Row, Ashley glanced over at a Prius parked on the side of the road. Smoke was coming out of the hood, and as they passed, she was horrified to find a man hovered and bent through the window, his legs kicking and squirming as he devoured and attacked the girl inside.

Forcing herself to look away, Ashley buried her face in her small hands. With each sob, her shoulders shook as she let her palms and fingers catch her tears. She felt a warm weight on her back, and she recognized it to be Brian's hand. She didn't say anything again, at least not yet. Or even look at him. She needed a hell lot more than his hand on her back for comfort right now, but it was hard to know just what exactly would do the trick. Maybe her parents. Yes, that was it! What person, child or not, didn't find comfort in hearing the voice of their parent during a tough time? Of course, this was much, much different.

Wiping her wet hands on her denim shorts, Ashley fished for her phone inside her bag in hopes that she had packed it. She had been in such a hurry in the dorm that she could hardly even remember what she had shoved in there anymore. When her fingers felt the familiar rubber of her Otterbox case, she pulled out her phone and immediately dialed her mom's phone number.

Straight to voicemail.

"Shit," She cried, trying not to lose her cool, or at least what was left of it. She tried her step-dad's phone next. It rang at least six times, and she got his voicemail as well.

"They're not answering!" She told Brian, not really explaining. He had to have known who she'd been trying to call. If she had been with her parents when this all went down, he would have been the first phone call that she made as well. "We have to go there. We have to get them." And then what? She wasn't sure. But they'd fucking figure it out, somehow.

"I j--just don't understand. Everyone's gone mad. Why is this happening? And Chelsea...oh my god, we just left her there! But...she was crazy. You...you had to." Ashley reached for the radio, this time to not pick out an annoying station to annoy Brian with. She needed news. Something. Anything to give them hope that this madness would be over soon.

She hadn't even thought to look at his gas tank to see if they'd even make it to her mom's house.

 

[SortOfBeautiful]

Ryan Alwert, six hours earlier.
11:47pm, Gamma Delta Phi frat house.


"Jesus Christ, you look like shit, man." Ryan's buddy, Alex, blurted. Ryan couldn't get upset or deny it. He'd looked in the mirror before he left and even he had to admit he wasn't looking his best. His face was paler than usual, cold, and he couldn't stop fucking sweating.

"I know, I know. Some kid came in the medical center earlier today, completely out of his fuckin' mind. He was real quiet when he was in the waiting room, but it took like three people to hold him down and get him off the front desk bitch I told you I nailed last semester. One minute he was mute, and the next he just started screamin' and wailin' like a fuckin' baby. They took him away in an ambulance, but not after takin' a chunk out of my arm." Ryan held up his battle wound, which was bandaged and wrapped. He put on a brave face, but it felt like his arm was on fucking fire.

But what was alcohol for, if not to help take the pain away?

"Hey, man. Isn't that the girl that's been checking you out all night?" Alex nodded without pointing, and Ryan waited a second before turning his head to look. Across the room, a red solo cup in hand, was a pretty girl in a pretty dress. Ryan hadn't missed her; she wasn't very good at hiding the fact that she was checking him out. Even if sometimes it looked as if she were more interested in the guy she came with. But maybe the pretty girl didn't realize that the guy she came with was more interested in the other girl he came with. Yeah, it looked as complicated as it sounded.

"Yeah. She's got a little crazy in her eyes, but she seems hot enough. I don't know, though. I'm not really feeling very well," Ryan admitted, knowing how gay it probably sounded. But shit, his vision was blurred and his stomach wouldn't stop turning. Even his hearing was a little off. He could only hear the beats and rhythm of the music playing, rather than the lyrics being sung on the top 40 song he was sure he recognized. The voices around him? Only Alex's voice was clear, everyone else sound far away as if they were in a tunnel.

Ryan considered leaving, but only for a second. He might feel like shit, but this was the first party of the year. There was no way he was going to wake up in the morning and listen to the guys talk about who they took home. Taking a long pull from his beer, Ryan set the near-empty bottle down and walked over to the crazy-eyed girl in the pretty dress.

"Hey, you need another drink?" He offered the girl as he approached, placing his hand on the small of her back. He felt her leaned into it, and he knew this would be easy.

"I think I'm good. Although, how about we skip the bullshit in getting me drunk? Got a room upstairs?"

What a fucking slut.

Ryan grinned.

Good, he didn't have the strength or effort right now in playing games with this girl who obviously just wanted to get laid, too. If she didn't respect herself, why did he have to? It took a lot of pressure off.

Taking her hand, he led the slutty, crazy-eyed pretty girl upstairs. He wasn't in the fraternity, but he knew there would be at least one room available to them. And it seemed that luck was on his side tonight, because the first room they found, was empty. Letting ladies in first, Ryan took a look at the girl's ass as she entered, so he could see what he'd be working with soon enough. Behind him, he closed the door and his fingers fumbled around for a lock. There was none.

"I'm Chelsea," She whispered, though neither of them bothered to turn on the light. In all honesty, Ryan looked and felt like shit. At the moment, the bed looked more inviting to get into and sleep in than the girl did, but...his cock proved otherwise.

"I don't care, take off your clothes." Blunt as ever, far from his usual charming self, he was surprised that the girl seemed to like it. Within seconds, her dress was gone, pooled at her feet, and her fingers were already reaching behind her back for the clasp of her bra. Ryan began to undress himself, starting with his shirt, then his jeans. He wasn't as careless as where his clothes fell, but he made sure to put them together so when this was over he could get dressed again quickly. He was no stranger to hooking up at parties.

When Ryan was left in his boxers, he had to stand still for a moment. He found he was having trouble breathing. His chest felt tight and his throat was sore, as if his lungs were closing up on him and leaving a very small airway for him to breathe through. His vision was cloudy as ever, and the darkness wasn't helping. But Chelsea, his little slut, found him. Her mouth was on his, although it had missed his lips at first until she felt her way to them, and her hand went right to his cock. She seemed pleased to find him hard, and he was just...surprised that he still was when all he could think about was how much he felt like he was going to fucking pass out.

When they moved to the bed, Ryan immediately climbed between Chelsea's legs. She turned her face when he lowered his, which told him she wanted his mouth on places other than her lips right now. Could she feel him sweating? Did she know he felt ill? As Ryan kissed along the side of the girl's neck, all he could think was, Do not throw up on this girl, do not throw up. His body felt like he was on fire, and with her hand between their bodies, rubbing him again, it wasn't helping him breathe any easier.

Ryan gasped, breathing heavier against Chelsea's delicious neck. The urge to dig his teeth into her flesh overwhelmed him, and he gave in. His teeth gently bit her soft skin, his teeth grazing down to her collar. Chelsea hissed, but arched. She fucking loved it. It seemed to bring some life back into Ryan, and he thought he would go off in a fucking frenzy and fuck her senseless. Like she probably wanted.

But his limbs grew weak, and he collapsed heavily against Chelsea. He could just barely feel her arms and legs wrapping around him at that moment, but it was hard to be sure anymore. The last thing he remembered seeing was her wildly-fallen hair on her shoulders, and a red spot forming on her neck. He wanted to bite her again and fucking devour her this time. Only Ryan never knew if he'd get that chance, because one last weak, gaspy breath was the last breath he took.

And everything went black.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

There is a finite amount of space in the human brain to process information. Very much like a computer, sometimes the hard drive was overfilled and information was lost, sometimes too much was happening at once and the processor couldn't keep up, and sometimes one tried to do too many things at once and there wasn't enough RAM to keep up. Things were missed. Details were overlooked in the flood of data.

Get to the car.

Get out.

Keep Ashley safe.

They were like a mantra in his head, and as much as he'd been ready to go into the Army, as many books as he'd read growing up, shows he'd watched, people he'd talked to, he wasn't a trained soldier, and fear was not something that had been beaten out of him. Maybe, had this happened a couple weeks later when he was on an Army base surrounded by other soldiers, they would have been able to band together, a unit that acted as one, fear cast out by the resolve of their collective strength. Maybe one of the others would have thought to look at the gas gage.

But this was now, and it was just he and Ashley, and fear was punching him in the gut like a motherfucker.

Keep Ashley safe.

He didn't know how many times he hit the big guy that had tackled her, didn't even register that Ashley was telling for him as he hit him again, and again, and again, turning his face into hamburger. Improbably, the guy just kept coming, arms flailing, teeth gnashing like he didn't even register the pain. It was a contradiction that he wasn't even aware of that the flow of violence was because of his fear - almost more for Ashley than himself, he was aware of this much - and yet it was that very violence that he was momentarily unaware of her calling for him. Had she said nothing, he could've punched his way to the concrete below the guy's head.

Luckily for them both, she was able to snap him out of it, and he grabbed the guy's shirt, lifted his torso off the ground, and then slammed his head back on the concrete. The damage done seemed to be enough to at least momentarily daze him, and Brain took the opportunity to run back to the driver's side door. Throwing the car in reverse, he barely reacted as someone else threw their body at the car, tires shrieking momentarily as he shifted hard into drive and stomped on the gas pedal.

Things off campus were quiet, compared to the chaos they'd left behind, but it was clear that things were starting to pour into the neighboring areas. Up on a lawn on the right side of the street lay a body, with three of those.. things.. hunched over it, clearly eating contently. None even lifted their heads to look as they sped past.

With a little distance between them and the campus, he was able to let himself relax his guard just a bit, and focus a little more on Ashley beyond just keeping her safe. With one hand gripping the top of the wheel, he laid the other on her back and stroked between her shoulder blades, trying to calm her as best he could. It was ineffective at best, but he dared not pull over until he knew they were safe.

When she leaned forward, Brian glanced from the road quickly, and withdrew his hand from her back when he saw her retrieve her phone. He was with her, Chelsea was... he didn't know what Chelsea was, much less where she was, which left only her parents to call. They weren't far, at the speed he was driving it would be a quicker drive than normal, but still it seemed best to warn them before they showed up scared and both with blood on their clothes.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure they're just busy with something and things are fine there," he said, trying to keep his voice even and calm. His hand left the wheel again, landing on her knee this time, and he squeezed reassuringly.

"We'll go straight there. No stops. I'm sure they're all fine. It seems like whatever it was is mostly just on campus. We'll be there soo- fuck!"

He'd allowed himself to take his eyes from the road again to look at her, focused more on calming her, and by extension him, as things seemed to be quieter this far from campus, when they reached the ramp to the highway and found a tangle of cars and bodies completely clogging it up. His hand snapped from her knee to the wheel and he turned it hard, both of them leaning with the centrifugal force of the turn.

"Fuckfuckfuck!"

Someone was in their path as they turned, a body badly broken, organs he didn't even recognize spilling freely from a gaping wound in the chest cavity. His foot lifted from the gas, slammed on the break, but much too late and they hit him, the man's shoulder and head striking the windshield and turning the glass into twin spider webs that made it harder to see. They could hear the weight of the body rolling over the roof, thumping just on the edge of the trunk, and then falling off behind them, though Brian was fairly sure as he thought back to it later that both he and Ashley were yelling, screaming, as it happened.

Tires squealing, the pair shot forward, then back against the seats as the car came to a sudden stop. Head turned, Brian looked to Ashley with eyes the size of dinner plates, then turned further to look out the back window. Slowly, wobbling, the man climbed back to his feet, more vital organs dangling from where they'd been packed snugly in his chest when he woke up this morning, and then he turned towards the car.

"Jesus... fuck."

The words were whispered, a mind in awe and struggling to understand what it was seeing. But still, one thing was clear in his head.

Keep Ashley safe.

Both hands gripped the wheel tightly, and he leaned over towards the driver's side door, finding an area of the windshield he could still see out of relatively well. Lifting his foot off the break, he hit the gas again, picking out a route in his head that would keep them off as many major streets as possible without turning the trip into a winding journey hours long.

"Call them again, Ash," he said grimly, not daring now to take his eyes off the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Leave a message if you get voicemail. Tell them it's an emergency. Call you back the second they get the message. Text them too, the same thi-"

His words were cut off this time by the engine missing, sputtering, causing the speedometer to flutter for a moment. The sound send an icy dread through his veins, and he knew instantly that he'd overlooked something. She had been teasing him just before they got to the school that he should have stopped for gas, because he'd have to stop on the way back the next day and he wouldn't want to. He told her he had plenty. He knew his baby like the back of his hand.

Knowing what he'd see before his eyes even dropped to the gage cluster, his shoulders dropped when his eyes settled on the little orange stick that was resting well past the E. He'd seen it in that position once before, just after hearing that very same sound, and he knew what it meant. They had a couple minutes, tops, before his car wasn't moving anywhere else. With the way their day was going, he expected maybe two minutes before they were dead. And that was if things started looking up a little.

"We need a gas station, Ash," he said, hoping she'd think quickly, and clearly, and would know of one close. Without any of those three, they were in real trouble.

"Now."