Second Chances - Chapter One ~ M/B (PG-13)
Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2009 6:24 am
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, then it's not mine.
Characters: Mick, Beth, Josef
Note: I rarely write MickBeth anymore, but I promised someone a MickBeth story, so this is the result. I hope you enjoy.
The Second Time Around
~True love is measured by the obstacles it can overcome~
The pungent smell of antiseptic hung thick in the air, a grim reminder of where he was and why he was there. The room had an atmosphere of false cheeriness, the walls painted a pale cream color and baskets of spring flowers scattered around.
Mick, however, took no notice of his surroundings; his sole focus was on his hands. To a normal person, they would appear immaculate, but his heightened senses could detect traces of blood still present beneath his fingernails and embedded within every tiny crevice of his skin. Try as he might to wash it away, the blood—Beth’s blood—remained.
What had he done? This was all his fault. How had he allowed this to happen? Mick’s mind was a blur, and his memories of the evening were disjoint.
He could recall the feel of the steering wheel, slick beneath his hands, and the tail lights of the fleeing SUV in front of them. They had been catching up—speeding down the highway, the night lights but a blur outside the car windows.
Mick had spent more than fifty years trying to suppress his vampire instincts. His love of the chase, however, was too strong to overpower. It was ingrained in every nerve of his body, setting his senses on fire, driving him wild. Tonight, however, it had been his greatest fault. The thrill of the chase had been burning in his veins, and in the heat of pursuit, Mick had not seen the light switch to red—nor had he seen the speeding car which was about to broadside them. But he had heard Beth’s scream and the deafening scraping and crashing of metal on metal—it was a sound that would haunt his memory all his life.
The next thing he could remember, he was pulling Beth from the vehicle. He had held her unconscious form in his arms, cradling her head in his hands. Her blonde hair, stained red, had left streaks across her face when Mick brushed it from her face to stare into her dulled and emotionless eyes, searching for the slightest glimpse of hope. “I’m so sorry, Beth,” he had sobbed and kissed the side of her face.
The rest of the night was a blur of sirens and flashing lights, white hallways and hurried forms, and, most of all, waiting.
“Only three hours…” Mick mumbled to himself, looking at his watch. Three hours ago, he had picked Beth up from her apartment. She had flashed him one of her gorgeous smiles and had teased him about his “perpetual coolness” when he had arrived twenty minutes late. They were going to work on a case together, but it had gone horribly wrong.
Now it had been two hours since they had taken Beth from him, and he had not heard anything since. Normally, in the span of a vampire’s long life, two hours seem but two seconds. But for Mick, these two agonizing hours had dragged on for an eternity. Shading his eyes from the bright hospital lights, he nearly lost whatever strength he had left and choked back a sob.
Detecting the dull thud of footsteps, Mick raised his gaze to see a man, dressed in a long white coat, approaching him. Mick jumped to his feet to meet him.
“Mr. St. John?” the man asked, removing his glasses and wiping his brow nervously.
“Yes,” Mick’s voiced cracked, “Beth? Is she…is she alright?”
“She’s…stable,” the doctor responded, putting his glasses back on. “Her injuries were all fairly minor. However, she did suffer significant cranial trauma.”
“But she’ll be fine, won’t she?” Mick’s words caught in his throat.
“All we can do is wait…I’m sorry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To Be Continued
Characters: Mick, Beth, Josef
Note: I rarely write MickBeth anymore, but I promised someone a MickBeth story, so this is the result. I hope you enjoy.
The Second Time Around
~True love is measured by the obstacles it can overcome~
The pungent smell of antiseptic hung thick in the air, a grim reminder of where he was and why he was there. The room had an atmosphere of false cheeriness, the walls painted a pale cream color and baskets of spring flowers scattered around.
Mick, however, took no notice of his surroundings; his sole focus was on his hands. To a normal person, they would appear immaculate, but his heightened senses could detect traces of blood still present beneath his fingernails and embedded within every tiny crevice of his skin. Try as he might to wash it away, the blood—Beth’s blood—remained.
What had he done? This was all his fault. How had he allowed this to happen? Mick’s mind was a blur, and his memories of the evening were disjoint.
He could recall the feel of the steering wheel, slick beneath his hands, and the tail lights of the fleeing SUV in front of them. They had been catching up—speeding down the highway, the night lights but a blur outside the car windows.
Mick had spent more than fifty years trying to suppress his vampire instincts. His love of the chase, however, was too strong to overpower. It was ingrained in every nerve of his body, setting his senses on fire, driving him wild. Tonight, however, it had been his greatest fault. The thrill of the chase had been burning in his veins, and in the heat of pursuit, Mick had not seen the light switch to red—nor had he seen the speeding car which was about to broadside them. But he had heard Beth’s scream and the deafening scraping and crashing of metal on metal—it was a sound that would haunt his memory all his life.
The next thing he could remember, he was pulling Beth from the vehicle. He had held her unconscious form in his arms, cradling her head in his hands. Her blonde hair, stained red, had left streaks across her face when Mick brushed it from her face to stare into her dulled and emotionless eyes, searching for the slightest glimpse of hope. “I’m so sorry, Beth,” he had sobbed and kissed the side of her face.
The rest of the night was a blur of sirens and flashing lights, white hallways and hurried forms, and, most of all, waiting.
“Only three hours…” Mick mumbled to himself, looking at his watch. Three hours ago, he had picked Beth up from her apartment. She had flashed him one of her gorgeous smiles and had teased him about his “perpetual coolness” when he had arrived twenty minutes late. They were going to work on a case together, but it had gone horribly wrong.
Now it had been two hours since they had taken Beth from him, and he had not heard anything since. Normally, in the span of a vampire’s long life, two hours seem but two seconds. But for Mick, these two agonizing hours had dragged on for an eternity. Shading his eyes from the bright hospital lights, he nearly lost whatever strength he had left and choked back a sob.
Detecting the dull thud of footsteps, Mick raised his gaze to see a man, dressed in a long white coat, approaching him. Mick jumped to his feet to meet him.
“Mr. St. John?” the man asked, removing his glasses and wiping his brow nervously.
“Yes,” Mick’s voiced cracked, “Beth? Is she…is she alright?”
“She’s…stable,” the doctor responded, putting his glasses back on. “Her injuries were all fairly minor. However, she did suffer significant cranial trauma.”
“But she’ll be fine, won’t she?” Mick’s words caught in his throat.
“All we can do is wait…I’m sorry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To Be Continued
