Close your eyes, everything is fine Who: Amanda and Cameron Where: Their home When: Morning
Cameron hadn’t gotten home until late the previous night, all of the activity with what had happened with the “gates” not lending well to going home. But he’d managed to get away, wanting to make sure that Amanda’d made it home alright. Which he was guessing she must have because she’d been stretched out, dead to the world, in their bed. He’d had a quick dinner before joining her, not having any other work to do and despite the fact that she’d clearly been asleep for longer he still woke up before her. After laying there for a few minutes he rolled out of bed, stretched out and headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t a common thing by any stretch of the imagination but he thought that once in awhile there wasn’t anything wrong with being a little spontaneous. Plus he had time before he had to get ready for work and if Amanda’s day had been that bad yesterday then she deserved a little something.
He also didn’t want to get any sort of cold shoulder for having been out so late the previous day.
Turning the radio on, Cameron set about preparing a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. He’d never been a fan of the whole ‘big and hearty’ meal thing that his father liked, but simple was good. And if Amanda decided she wanted something else then he was sure he could handle it. Cooking was also a nice, time-consuming thing that kept his mind from wandering back to cover the events of the past few days that he wasn’t even a little fond of.
Amanda just about felt the mattress shift as Cameron left the bed. The hazy limbo between a pill-induced sleep and the waking world was usually something she found pleasant. A semi-alert state of rest that she was reluctant to leave. Right now, her reasons for not wanting to wake up had nothing to do with feeling rested. In truth, she felt just as destroyed then as she had done when she originally piled into bed. Her mother would have put it down to having overslept with the aid of sleeping pills and red wine. One glass. I had one glass. And as many of those little blue darlings as she could take without overdosing. No, she did not want to wake up. She needed to, though. Brow furrowing before her eyes could even open, she rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Downstairs, she could hear the mutterings of what she assumed was the radio. Fuck. She needed to tell him. She needed to tell him just how fucked they really were.
Forcing herself out of bed, she pulled on her robe and tied her hair up in a loose knot, ignoring the layers that wouldn’t quite cooperate. I look like death warmed up. Not entirely true, but she’d looked far better. She had felt far better. But it was so easy to step into the kitchen as though it was a normal day. Even if there was lead lining her stomach. “Morning,” Amanda moved to wrap her arms around Cameron’s waist, pressing her cheek to the back of his shoulder. “I missed you yesterday.” Because she’d needed to curl up and cry. To know that there wasn’t any monster about to descend on the house wearing the face of a child. But he hadn’t been there and she had put herself out of her misery before he returned home. Now she was grateful for that. She didn’t want him seeing her in the state she’d been in. Amanda Blake was not a scared little girl.
Cameron had very nearly started up an argument with the radio about how, no, it wasn’t time for the morning report yet. He enjoyed the news as much as the next man but he didn’t like it before he’d had his breakfast or shower. But he was distracted from his analysis of how whoever did the morning report needed to get their throat checked when he heard Amanda coming. It had to be Amanda because there wasn’t anyone else in the house, and his assumption was proven right when he felt her arms go around his waist. “Morning Mandy,” he replied, craning his neck around to kiss her forehead. “And I know, I’m sorry, but with all of this mess I’ve had so much work that it isn’t even funny. The fact that I’m getting married soon hasn’t convinced father to lighten my load yet.” He was practically convinced that the only thing that would’ve given him a moment of breathing room was if he’d been born female and gotten pregnant. Then maybe his father would’ve given him a day off when he was in the hospital. “Plus I didn’t want to wake you up when I got home.”
“That’s alright, I was out early.” Out of work, out of her mind, out of consciousness. Part of her perked up at the mention of the wedding. The rest of her tried not to flinch at the reminder of a little girl offering to show her what her insides looked like. “I can try talking to Daddy for you,” she offered absent-mindedly. Her father was better at reasoning with people than she was. He was likely the only person Amanda was willing to speak to who could have any kind of impact on Philip Calvert. Even if it was miniscule. Falling quiet, she shifted slightly. Her toes were cold. And her mind was trying to attach itself to any and every trail of thought that had nothing to do with demons. “Cam, there was a demon in my car.” Her voice came out dead, the rest of her refusing to recall most of the event. “It looked completely fucking human.” The last word cracked but she refused to acknowledge it. She wasn’t going to cry. Not again. She was the woman who only stopped to help injured little girls because otherwise it would be bad for her public image. That woman didn’t cry. But this one was trying to.
Flipping his egg, Cameron added some pepper. “No that’s okay, he’d just assume I’d asked you to.” Which he hadn’t and wouldn’t, but his father would still think that. At least he was reliable when it came to that sort of thing. But then Amanda said that and everything froze. Forgetting that he was cooking something, Cameron turned around slowly and blinked down at Amanda. A demon in her car and it was human. Immediately his eyes scanned over her form until he had convinced himself that at least physically she hadn’t been harmed. But she didn’t sound all that great and Cameron couldn’t keep his concern buried. Not when it was Amanda involved. Reaching behind him he turned the oven off and put his hands on her shoulders. He knew that tone. It wasn’t one that she often allowed into her voice. “Tell me what happened, Mandy, and who it was.” He didn’t know what he could do about a demon but he’d be damned if one went near Amanda without some sort of repercussion.
“I’m fine.” Physically, anyway, but it was a knee-jerk reaction to realising what he was looking for. “The glove compartment took the damage.” The materialist in Amanda was grinding her teeth over that. She needed to get that fixed. Even if it was just so she could pretend nothing had ever happened. Her hands were staying firmly at his waist, though. It wasn’t something she was going to admit even to herself, but she needed the contact. Especially since she couldn’t just take more pills and pass out again. Fucking cut it out, Mandy. This is what terror tactics were designed for. “I don’t know who it was.” That lie came far too easily and potentially far too quickly, but the little bitch had claimed to know where they lived. Hell, they were public figures in a small town, anybody with half a brain could find out where they lived. None of which even vaguely made her feel better. “But we... talked.” Amanda almost choked on the absurdity of that statement. ‘Talked’ really wasn’t the word. “About my job. Mutilation. Rabid dogs. The - Jesus - the colour of my wedding dress.” With a laugh of nervous disbelief, she pressed her palm to her forehead and stared at Cameron’s chest. Was that thing really watching her? Was it even worth the risk of telling him she knew exactly who the brat was and where she lived? No. “She was short.” A laughable understatement. “Blonde, dark eyes... She could have been the girl next door. She looked so normal.” Until she pulled out the horns and tail. But then the same applied to psychics and witches and weres and practically everything else. Amanda had no idea why she was still surprised.
Damaged glove compartment, well that would clearly need to be fixed before anyone noticed because Cameron doubted Amanda really wanted the world to know that yet again she was subject of a less than pleasant encounter with the supernatural. And why her again? Why couldn’t one give him a try? He wasn’t fool enough to think that he’d be any better off than her but god damn, at least it wouldn’t be her. At the statement that she was short, blonde with dark eyes and able to be the girl next door, Cameron felt himself tense a little. Here he’d thought that demons were those things he’d seen on the news reports. Or that if they weren’t then they’d at least look different. Sound different. And for god’s sake they couldn’t be normal looking or short like the children they clearly weren’t. Maneuvering carefully so that he didn’t have to release his hold, or have her let go, Cameron moved to sit down in one of the kitchen chairs, tugging Amanda down onto his lap. He believed that there wasn’t physical damage but he didn’t for a moment think that she was alright. Her voice had cracked. “Mandy, look at me,” his voice was firm but steady and he brushed his fingers against the side of her face. “Hey, okay, so she looked normal and wasn’t but you’ll know what she looks like now so you never have to let her in your car again. And for the love of god, if you see her, you call me. Or the police. Anything. You’re sure she didn’t hurt you?”
Despite her not wanting the confirmation that something had been very wrong, was very wrong, Amanda made no objections over being pulled onto Cameron’s knee. Now that she was fully awake, she had gone into damage control the way she did when anything went wrong. Everything was compartmentalised, broken down into smaller, inconsequential facts that didn’t and couldn’t bother her as much when they’d been removed from their context. Trying to sniff away any emotional reactions, she nodded. Although if she saw that thing again, she suspected her first reaction would be to run. Or run the bitch over and then reverse. Repeatedly. “What are the police going to do? They can’t lawfully do anything against vampires, where is a demon supposed to fit into the equation?” Amanda wasn’t even going to begin to outline just how much she didn’t want Cameron to be subjected to her. “She pulled my hair and offered to show me my insides. Like it was a regular conversation.” There were parts of the incident that did not need a context to disturb her. Leaning to rest her forehead against Cameron’s, she sighed. She was sorely tempted to call in sick, but that was too much like admitting some kind of defeat. There was an image she needed to maintain, demon or no.
Cameron didn’t like that Amanda actually had a very good point about the police being just as likely to do nothing as they were to be useful. Although he also thought that even people like Liliya Kennedy would be able to acknowledge the sheer wrongness that was demons. They didn’t have ‘good’ members. There wasn’t a single thing redeeming about them. No, just no. Cameron didn’t want to know if someone thought there was because clearly there was something wrong with them and a demon had hopped into their bloodline somewhere up the tree. “No one can defend demons after the things that have been done by them,” was Cameron’s response. And he fully believed that was correct. Why wouldn’t he be? Hearing that this demon had threatened Amanda, that she’d touched her and offered to show her her organs made Cameron’s stomach turn. “Creatures like that have no place in the world,” he grated out. Now could Liliya defend demons like the others? No. They’d been directly responsible for the deaths of thousands across the world, some even in Scarlet Oak. And one had verbally tormented Amanda. “But you kept your cool and didn’t do anything rash. Do you want to have lunch this afternoon?” Something to take her mind off what had happened and also give him an opportunity to just check and make sure nothing had happened.
“Everything can be defended, or we wouldn’t have defense attorneys,” she murmured. Jesus, dictators guilty of genocide still went on trial. They were trials they couldn’t possibly win, but that wasn’t the point. “Someone somewhere will try.” Because the human race could actually be that stupid. It hurt Amanda’s head just trying to begin thinking about how many people might actually support them. There were enough sick fucks in the world without them needing any form of encouragement. “It’s that Irish witch.” There was a touch of venom there, but she believed the had a right to it. “He brought them.” That witch and his followers had been behind this from the beginning. All that ‘the angels can return’ bullshit? Who was to say which side he believed to be saviours and which were the monstrosities? For all they knew, he meant to bring the demons here and the alleged angels were just collateral. What if they were just another kind of demon, and the killings were down to some kind of tribal-fucking-warfare brought onto their soil? Did nobody stop to think about these things? It made her sick to the stomach. Pressing a kiss to Cameron’s temple, Amanda forcibly turned her trail of thought to that question and the day ahead. “Yes, please. Take my mind off the fact I work with idiots?”
Yes, but defense attorneys rather tended to be the sort of person that also shouldn’t be allowed to exist. But they were a rather necessary evil. Cameron was just glad he hadn’t become one, or Amanda for that matter, because defending people could just be so wrong. “Yes, and his followers and nothing was done to them yet.” They were in jail, oh how nice. They were being taken care of and fed but what was the real punishment supposed to be? They’d been responsible for all of those deaths, indirectly but still, and yet all that had happened was jail. Some sort of a death was better seeming than anything else. Cameron supported the death penalty for them. Nothing less. They were witches and had gone and proven how useful magic wasn’t. “Always glad to do that. And rescue you from any potential kidnappings on the part of our mothers.” He wouldn’t put it past either of them, especially his own, for a second. That and it gave him a reason to tell Marion Calvert that no, he had plans, and yes they were too important to be cancelled. Amanda happened to rank above his mother.
“Yet,” Amanda emphasised. She was of the opinion that they should all be found guilty of murder in the first degree. They had to have known that their magic would have collateral damage, even if they were not fully aware of the extent. Which meant that they knew there was a possibility of fatalities. And look at what had happened. How many deaths had they caused? Knowingly caused. In fact, she was willing to put money on how likely it was that they would somehow die at the hands of the creatures they let in from... wherever the fuck they were coming from. That demon had actually said she was from Hell. Which was just not something Amanda was prepared to think about. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t normal and it wasn’t natural. Oh god, no, I’m not going to lunch with either of them. I do not need them telling me how terrible I look as if I wasn’t already aware. “You’re a saint, Calvert.” One hand rose to play with his hair and she gave a faint smile. God knew he’d be the only person to receive a real one today.
Perhaps something would be done to those who had taken part in this terrible occurrence, but Cameron wasn’t holding out too much hope for that. He knew his history and history pointed to people being more likely to get stuck in jail for what they did wrong rather than anything else. He thought they didn’t deserve anything less than being stuck in a room with a demon so that it could do them what had been done to others. Eye for an eye. Life for a life... the supernaturals shouldn’t have been allowed to be accepted. “I believe you’re the only one to refer to me as such, but yes I am.” Modesty hadn’t been his strong suit ever and Amanda could label him whatever she liked. “Would you like me to finish breakfast so that you have the strength to face those idiots you work with?” At least none of them were the demon. He hoped. No, she said she didn’t know who it was. He wasn’t going to be able to look at anyone the same way again. Except perhaps Liliya Kennedy because whatever else happened she was still a vampire and repulsive.
Effectively shutting down her mind’s chatter about demons, Amanda gave Cameron a light kiss before tucking rogue layers of hair behind her ears. All she’d needed was him. Everything was fine. She didn’t feel like a frightened child any more and nothing was any worse in the world than it had been two days earlier. It was a mindset that was packed full of loopholes, but it was hardly as though she would be acknowledging a single one of them. Her smile had broadened a little at his lack of modesty - yet another sign that there was nothing wrong. If there was nothing wrong there wasn’t anything she needed to worry about, thus nothing she could not handle. Piece by piece, Amanda was steadily rebuilding the face she’d worn the morning before. Make enough people believe it and it’s true. It was just that easy. Always had been. “Yes, please. I need a quick shower.” Wash the feeling of helplessness off and she was good to go.
“Then you go take your shower and when you get out breakfast will be ready,” Cameron confirmed. And he had gotten a kiss out of the morning without really needing to do anything. Except reassure Amanda which wasn’t always the easiest thing on the planet. He almost believed that it might be easier to get Liliya Kennedy to agree with him on certain things. Not that he’d ever say that where anyone could hear. He gave Amanda a kiss before helping her up and getting himself up as well. Now he could see back to the eggs. And think about how to see to figuring out the demon population of Scarlet Oak. Why couldn’t there be a box on the census for race? Really now, they asked if people were Caucasian or some other nationality, why couldn’t they ask if they had supernatural abilities?