The Vampire's Apprentice

"Yes, yes, I am fine. Although you have not been to your appointment in a few days now. Understandably so for a couple of those days, but I think it is about time you return. Do you not agree?"
 
Clancy didn't bother to answer that as he met her gaze calmly. He really did not want to fight right now, but he was still certain going would help her open up. Besides, it was only until either she talked, or they moved, whichever came first. He would rather not place a bet on those odds.
 
"I know, and you know you need to," Clancy said patiently. "You are going. Whether you take advantage of the opportunity or not is up to you, but your presence is mandatory. At least for now. Why don't you tell her about what happened to Norville and ask for suggestions how to help without offending proud sensibilities?"
 
"I don't see why I would need to do that." Kitty grumbled, crossing her arms and sinking back into the couch. "It does not concern her, nor does what I say or do not say concern you."
 
"It does concern me, Miss Kitty, you will have to accept that if you will accept nothing else," Clancy said firmly, his eyes snapping. Then he took a breath and calmed himself. "It concerns her in that she might be able to help you help them. I am uncertain how to go about it, but she might have some ideas. For someone so inquisitive, it astounds me how reluctant you are to utalize a viable source of information to help people you care about."
 
"I'm not being reluctant. He is in good hands where he is, and I do not need emotional support. That's all there is to it." Kitty made certain she was not raising her voice, keeping it even in volume though stubborn in tone.
 
"Not Norville alone. His family," Clancy said, rolling his eyes. "To my understanding, he tottled their car and was the person who did most of the meal prep, meaning with their mother working, who is going to provide food? Or do the shopping? The car? There are a lot of needs you are not seeing. And of course you need emotional support. If you think otherwise, then you are foolish."
 
"Then I will be foolish." She answered curtly. "If I'm to talk to anyone about what's occurring in my life, it most-certainly will not be a stranger paid to listen. It would be someone else...." Kitty trailed off, growing silent.
 
"Except that you have refused," Clancy pointed out. "With a stranger paid to listen, then you have no fear of your words coming back to haunt you, and you have blankly refused to speak to anyone, so what am I to do, hmm?"
 
"Just leave me alone." She mumbled. "I do not want your help, nor need it, and I dislike it when you try. If anything, I was content speaking to Norville about life. He's a friend, not a stranger, and most certainly not paid to listen." Kitty's tone became ever sharper, raising pointedly in volume, "And it was my decision to speak to him in the first place!"
 
"Yes, and most recently he nearly killed himself and deprived his mother of a needed vehicle due to his stellar life choices," CLancy said dryly. "He is an excellent friend to turn to for advice. And why are you so hung up on the fact that she is paid for her time?"
 
She bit back her next comment and glowered at something across the room. "Just a thought." Which was a lie; it was Norville's words ringing in her ears. "At least he isn't silently accusing me of insanity; contrived kindness behind insincere eyes. He comes over because he worries, not because he is required to forge kindness in effort to 'help' or to 'care.' I'm not oblivious to the way people think, Clancy. I just want someone to understand; to genuinely want to know what's going on, not because the ulterior motive is to slowly correct all the mistakes I've made in the past."

Kitty glanced towards him. Her temples hurt, but she refused to cry. "I would talk to you, too, you know. Just every time I try, you push back. So I've stopped trying. It ended with you almost dying the last time, and I don't want to go through that again."
 
Clancy's lips thinned and he looked away. "Go to your room," he said softly. "Just... go to your room." Something she had said hurt him deeply, that much was clear. His left hand trembled slightly on the arm of the chair, but was it from anger or pain?

Then, suddenly, he looked at her again, his eyes sparking cold fire. "You speak harshly of other 'silently accusing you' and 'contrived kindness' and how can I ignore insincere eyes? Such harsh judgment for someone who desires to not be judged! And wanting to be genuinely understood, yet you, YOU refuse to speak genuinely or, heaven forbid, consider the idea that just because someone is paid to listen, that does not mean they do not care and they are insincere. That mayby, just maybe, their 'ulterior motive,' as you call it, is not to condemn you for your mistakes, but to help you find peace so you can sleep without nightmares. Such high standards for a self-righteous street rat."

He rose. "Fine. You are no longer required to speak to the therapist. Lean on your injured friend who gets through the day on a haze of smoke. How could I have not seen the wisdom in your plans all along?" He turned his back on her. "I had hoped for a quiet evening of actually speaking to you and conversing pleasantly, but I see that shall never happen. So go. Be in your room with your fairy tales and continue to ignore the world that will not play by your rules. I have had enough trying to understand someone who will not speak."
 
All the things she could have said in that moment—the things she wanted to reply with—yet not a single word left her mouth. She was done arguing with him. There was no purpose to it.

Kitty stood as well, leaving her book where it remained on the coffee table. She paused before heading up the stairs.

"Good night, Mr. McCleary." She told him, calmly as she always did, then continued to her bedroom, letting Sam inside before she closed the door gently.
 
Sam looked up at Kitty, his brow wrinkled in concern, and whined. He didn't understand. Why was everyone so upset?

~

Clancy stood still for a long moment. In a blinding rush of speed, he picked up the other chair by the arm and flung it across the living room and into the kitchen. It bounced off the table with a crash and smashed into the cupboards. Wood and items rained down from the broken upper cupboards to mingle with the broken pieces of wood and shreds of fabric that was once a perfectly good chair.
He stood shaking, glaring at the mess across the room. His body trembled with the force of his contained emotions. That pig-headed little brat! How could she be so blind? So stupid? So arrogant?? He was trying to help! He had tried to help! He'd tried to listen, but she would not speak. And she did not get it! He did understand! He genuinely understood, and that was why he was trying to help her, not because he did not understand, but because he understood well enough to know he could not help. She needed professional help. Needed it. And she... and he...
The couch went next, slamming into the bottom of the stairs, though it was padded enough it did not break.
He glared at the couch, his rage slowly subsiding. And he... was standing here throwing a tantrum like a small child who hadn't gotten the candy he was promised by a careless slip of the tongue. He breathed out a sigh and sat with his back against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to run back through what she had said. What did she mean that he always pushed back? That he did not understand. When? She was the one pushing him away whenever he tried to speak to her, and he was the one who had given up trying to talk to her when she made it clear she was not going to talk about it. When she had spoken of it, he'd tried to listen, hadn't he? How had he pushed her away?
Maybe he was the one who needed counseling. Probably, but there weren't exactly vampire councilors around, and trying to explain to a therapist how you occasionally accidentally murdered someone was not exactly going to go over well.
He didn't think Kitty did want to be understood. She thought she did, but in reality... she wanted the past to go away and for everyone to agree that it never happened and that she was a bright, happy soul with a lonely heart. That was how it looked to him, and he had no idea how to do anything about it. How could she not see that?
Because she did not see him as a friend. She saw him as someone with an ulterior motive. That was all. Everything she said... it was about him. What she saw as pushing back was not him at all. It was her. That was the only sense he could make of anything. Not that anything made any sense anymore.
Why oh why did he have to pick up that wretched girl? He should have left her alone that first night and never looked back. He wasn't so sure this pain was worth an interesting life.
 
It seemed no sooner had the door clicked shut and Kitty sank down to the floor, a violent crash sounded from downstairs, shaking the building in two bursts as the chair hit the table, then the cupboards. She wrapped her arms tighter around her shins, pressing her forehead into her knees to hide her face. There was a moment—a brief moment—before a second thundering crash sounded, the couch landing against the stairs. As hurt and angry as she was, these emotions dulled in fear.
Softly, she opened the door to her room again, listening for a sound; a sign of danger. Kitty padded gently down the steps, pausing at the sight of the couch at the base of the stairs. What had happened?
She could feel her heart beating quicker. "Clancy?" Kitty called quietly, peering concernedly into the living room. He was there... slumped against the wall. Was he alive? Was there a danger?
 
Clancy frowned and lifted a hand to rub his forehead. Was it possible to have a headache without actually being able to physically have a headache? "What is it, Miss Kitty?" he demanded. Well tried to demand. It started out harsh and ended in a tired sigh. He must have frightened her. Wonderful. Exactly what the pair of them needed now.
 
"Are you OK?" Kitty's gaze brushed over the rest of the room, seeing the other chair lying in the kitchen, broken cupboards above it. Her eyes returned to him, not sensing anything dangerous.
 
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