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If anyone asked Maddie why she was avoiding her brother, she would deny it first. If pressed, she would admit that it is because she is afraid. Not of her brother, don’t be ridiculous, Evan couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone his sister. But she’s afraid of the things he’d ask and the thoughts those questions would bring up, and the feelings they’d unearth.
Spending time with Chimney is easier. She still has these questions and remarks at the back of her mind (most of all Evan’s “You guys are dating!”). But it’s easier to let them lie there, at the back of her mind, when no one is explicitly asking her about her feelings, and she can just be in the moment and enjoy time with a man she genuinely likes.
Which might be the problem, as all of these questions pertain to her relationship with Chimney, and the fact that she really likes him. And Evan is right to see it, possibly even to point it out, but that doesn’t mean Maddie is ready to face it.
The wounds of her previous relationship are still fresh. The fear of him finding her is still gripping her tight, and some of these wounds won’t ever be able to heal. What he did to her has irreversibly altered her. There’s no coming back from that for her, and while Evan made it clear that he will stay by her side anyway, he’s her brother. Chimney should not have any obligation to do the same, even if she hopes that he might. Mostly, he doesn’t even plan to give him the chance.
They can be friends, just as they already are; it leaves a distance between them that prevents her from hurting him in the way that she’s most afraid of. But she won’t engage with him in the way that her brother thinks she wants (which she does). She doesn’t know her control all that well yet, doesn’t know how it translates to situations where she’s feeling strong emotions and her company is vulnerable. She’d rather not find out in a situation where it’s already too late. Does not want to rely on hindsight.
But the both of them make it hard, her brother with his well-meaning questions that poke at the things she doesn’t want to look at, and Chimney with… well, just his everything. Being who he is, making her feel the way she does. It’s hard to ignore, as much as she tries.
It’s even worse when she has to face them both.
“Why is Buck asking me to tell you to stop ignoring him?” Maddie can hear the frown in Chimney’s voice without having to look at him.
“Tell him to mind his own business.”
Chimney huffs, but apparently complies, as shortly after he reads out: “Now he is telling me to ask you what you’re afraid of.” He scoffs. “This is ridiculous. I will not serve as a go-between in your sibling disputes. You can talk to each other.”
Maddie sighs, realizing what Evan’s getting at. She considers just letting it go and making Chimney think it’s something between her and Evan, but a part of her balks at the thought. Friendships, after all, are based on trust and honesty too.
“I think he doesn’t want to know,” she looks up from her plate, finally looking at Chimney who is already looking at her. His phone with his and Evan’s text messages is still in his hand, “I think he actually meant for you to ask me.”
His demeanor shifts from the good-natured and slightly exasperated way he faced the conversation with her brother to a more serious one. He is obviously preparing for the possibility of a deeper conversation. Maddie knows that she is the one who opened up this line of conversation, but now that she faces the fact that he is more than ready to accept her openness, she’s not so sure if she is ready herself.
“So what are you afraid of?” he asks and her breath catches in her throat. Seemingly picking up on her unease, he adds: “Or is this part of him not minding his own business?”
Maddie smiles at that, relaxing a little. “He’s definitely not minding his own business. But I should tell you anyway.”
“Should or want to?”
“Want to,” she replies, his out only makes her conviction stronger. It’s easy to love and to trust him. She knows not to take that for granted.
Still, she takes too long to answer him, for he tries to help her along. “Are you afraid that Doug might find you? Or that I might hurt you? I understand, you don’t have to tell me that.”
“Yes, to both,” she inhales, knowing there’s more to say, more that he needs to know, “but I am also afraid that it is me who will hurt you .”
Chimney reaches for her hand, imploring her to look at him. “We can never quite eliminate the possibility of hurting each other.”
“No.” She shakes her head urgently, interrupting him, “you don’t know what he made out of me.”
“Whatever he made you think about yourself,” he tries again, “you shouldn’t let it define you.”
Frustration rises up in her throat. He’s right, she knows he’s right, but not about this.
“He made me a vampire,” she cries out, and before he can take it metaphorically, she adds, “a literal, blood-sucking, undead, vampire.” Quieter: “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Chimney doesn’t let go of her hand, if anything, he squeezes it even tighter, saying “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” until they both believe it.
“I don’t really know what this means for us now,” he admits finally, “but we’re gonna figure it out together.” And Maddie nods, as it is all she can do for the moment, relieved that Chimney is still here, and still holding her hand. And she loves him, but she won’t say it yet, too afraid of everything around them and her own power.
It’s later, way later, when she sits in Doug’s car, that she thinks she was right. She was right to be afraid, afraid of what her relationship with Chimney would do to him. Only it was Doug who drained Chimney of his blood, not her. But then again, what difference does it make, if the end result is that Chimney is still dead, his body sucked dry. She wants to cry, let her tears fall over this man who should have lived, the man she loved, and mourn all that could have been between them. A happy future for herself. And Doug has taken that from her again, just as he took her first life, and took the life of an innocent man in the process. She also wants to kill Doug for what he did to both of them, but she knows both of those things will have to wait.
And she waits for hours and hours as he drives, putting distance between Maddie and everything she cares about. The opportunity for revenge comes later that day, after her botched attempt at getting help at the gas station, once he finally stops at a cabin to sleep. She’s frantic and desperate to get away from him, and angry, so angry. When he first bit and turned her, he made her dependent on him for those initial urges, but in the long-term, he also gave her a weapon. As fearful as she is of ever losing control and using it on a person she loves, panic and rage made her desperate for any weapon that she could use against him, and what better weapon than the one he gave her himself.
The time to cry comes after, when she’s in her brother’s arms. Her brother lives up to his promise to stay by her side and protect her. He comes looking for her, halfway across the country, in a move she would call reckless except that she is so glad to see the second person she loves, the only one left that is still alive.
It’s when she’s lying in the hospital, recovering from her injuries, that Evan talks about Chimney, and Maddie’s first thought is that he’s lost a friend too. The second is: “Chimney’s alive?”
The way Evan inhales uneasily before answering is all the answer she needs. He survived, but he’s not alive. He’s like her now. She cries again for the life that was taken from him.
“Can I see him?” she asks then, in the hopes that he’ll still want to see her, even after he’s experienced the ugly parts of her life. But even if he doesn’t, she wants at least to see a glimpse of his face, so she can confirm that he’s alive. Or well, as alive as a vampire, especially a newly turned one, can be.
To her surprise and relief, the hospital staff take her to him though, and they fall into each other’s arms.
“This is what I wanted to prevent,” Maddie says, stroking Chimney’s cheek and taking in the new paleness of his skin.
“It’s okay,” Chimney reassures her, “it’s not your fault.”
“It’s not okay. The next few weeks will be really hard. You’ll have new urges and instincts that you won’t know what to do with. I never wanted this for you. You shouldn’t have to suffer.”
“I’d prefer not to either,” he admits with a crooked smile. It’s matte, but its mere existence is reassuring. It’s the knowledge that he’s still Chimney, even after all that Doug has taken from him. “But you figured it out, right? So you can teach me. If you learned under the worst circumstances, I can learn how to control these urges too.”
She takes his hand and squeezes.
“There is one positive side to this,” he adds, and Maddie doesn’t think it’ll be as positive as he makes it sound, “you no longer have to fear that you’ll hurt me.”
But at what cost? she thinks, while leaning up to kiss him anyway.