Clancy stood frozen for a long time. Pain. He felt pain. He couldn't be here any longer or he might break something, and he hated replacing what he broke. It felt so irresponsible. Quietly, in complete control, he walked upstairs and watered his plant, moving it's position to a more optimal spot, then returned downstairs. He hat went on his head, and he walked out, locking the door behind him as usual. Then he turned and ran.
The world blurred around him, and the wind whipped his red hair straight back. It was going to be a tangled mess when he returned. He kept one hand planted on his hat and ran as fast and hard as his legs could take him straight out into the wilderness. Running away from the pain in his chest that might have once been his heart. Running from anger. Running from grief. Running from fear.
Not even a vampire can run forever, and he stopped, at last, in the middle of some brushy area in the middle of nowhere spotted by scraggly trees. The skeletons of buildings stood as reminders that once upon a time, humans dominated this land, but no more. They were gone. All that they'd brought with them was slowly fallen into decay. Clancy might have read more into the analogy, but he was more concerned with not tripping as he paced and metaphorically caught his breath.
He could not run forever. Should not run forever. Even if he currently wanted to snap her neck, Kitty was his, like a child or a surprise pet. He could not get rid of her on a whim anymore than he could have taken her in on a whim. He had gone too far with the slap, and yet he could not find it within himself to feel fully guilty. She was so stubborn and hot headed and full of her own half-baked knowledge!
Much like he had been at her age. Although, at her age he had been toting a gun in the mafia and had already shot three men. None of them had died, but that was not the point. Even so, he had still been much like her.
He sighed and took off his hat, running a hand through his hair. She was wrong, so very, very wrong, but she still, annoyingly, had one point in her favor: one could not force help onto someone else. They could do such things as take away the weapons to keep them from hurting themselves or others, but they could not force another to accept the fact that they were in need of help or wrong in any way. You could only present the facts and hope.
The stars glided across the sky. He needed to start back to get home before the sun rose and have time to write some kind of apology. He could not stop trying to help altogether, but he would stop pushing. He would insist she continue to see the therapist, but he would no longer try to bully her into realizing she needed something. He would bite his tongue and hope that therapist could work miracles while he just kept sharp objects away from Kitty for a while.
He was beginning to remember why it was he had avoided humans and any kind of friendship for so many years.
Clancy settled his hat back on his head and turned to go. A breeze wafted a faint scent to his nostrils, and he froze. If his heart still worked, it would have sped up to drum in his ears. He should not have come here. He spun just in time to react.
Clancy did not return by sunrise. There was no note waiting for Kitty. No sign of his presence. Granted, this was not a surprising thing as he rarely left much sign of his presence when he was home, but nothing had been put away on his desk, something he always did before retiring. He never had the chance.
~~~
Sam whined at Kitty's door, desperately needing out in the yard. He scratched agitatedly and whined again.
