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Bright red sunlight flittered in through the stained glass windows of the Castle, casting a trail of blood across the floor, right up to an ornate writing desk stood within the study. The dark oak wood was carved into gothic swirls, and had an almost hypnotic feel if you looked at it for too long. A remnant of Scott's style, no doubt. The trail of blood crept its way along the dark floorboards, illuminating them. Climbing up the side of the writing desk until it reached the deathly white hair of Cleo. Their head was slumped on the desk, a letter sat abandoned, half of the words incomprehensible due to the amount of scribbling out. And there were dark splotches on the page that didn't seem like the ink Cleo had used.
The letter to the Doc would have to be rewritten. The monster had won, and ruined one more thing. Cleo tried to stop the tears from flowing. They tried so, so hard. They just… Needed to push it down. Push it down, far away, where it wouldn't hurt them. They'd managed it for so long, why was it so hard now? Why now, when they're no longer stuck in that… Place? Probably because they know they don't deserve this. This… Forced happy ending. Something they never deserved. So Cleo must stop crying. It's fruitless. Monsters have nothing to cry about. Besides… Pearl could be over at any minute. They had to be strong for her. Monsters have nothing to cry about. And Cleo, a monster through and through, shouldn't be here. Shouldn't have someone as wonderful as Pearl. At the very least, all Cleo can do for Pearl is to stop showing those parts of them to her. Pearl didn't deserve to be burdened with all of the darkest parts of Cleo. She was already doing so much… Too much. More than Cleo deserves. More than any monster deserves.
As if on cue, Cleo heard soft footsteps, and a creak of the door to the study. Creaky and old. Not worth anything. Not worthy of Pearl's gentle touch. One of many remnants of the monster who had lived there, in turn becoming a monster themself. They elected to not turn and face Pearl. Maybe Pearl would go away if Cleo didn't acknowledge her?
"Cleo? Y'alright in here?" Came Pearl's cheerful voice.
Cleo's mouth opened to lie. Always lying. Pearl always was the one they'd break the Rules for. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
By the noise Pearl made, Cleo could tell she had noticed the shaking in their voice, and the way Cleo swallowed before speaking. Why was Pearl always so good at Noticing these things? It ate up at Cleo's insides, far more than the ever-present gnawing rage since becoming a vampire.
"Cleo…" Pearl said, in that usual tone of affection mixed with exasperation. "You and I both know that's not true. What's up?"
Cleo shifted their position to continue facing away from Pearl as she sat down on a footstool next to Cleo. While Cleo couldn't see her face, they just knew Pearl had those puppy dog eyes, and the body language of a dog whose tail is wagging. They wanted to say these mannerisms were a side effect of Pearl's becoming a werewolf, but she was like that from the start. Cleo couldn't help but smile slightly. It was one of the many things they loved about her.
"I… It's okay, Pearl. You don't need to do anything. I can deal with it alone."
Another lie. At least Cleo wasn't crying anymore. Just tears pricking their eyes.
"Can't get rid of me that easily!" Pearl said in a jokey tone, then paused for a moment. She'd obviously noticed the way their shoulders tensed up. The sharp intake of breath. "You don't need to tell me anything right now, but… I'm here, okay? I lo—"
"Why?" Cleo snapped, standing up, their tear-streaked face finally facing Pearl. Their mouth open slightly in a snarl, showing off their fangs. "I'm a monster. I— I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this happy ending. I don't deserve any of it. And you deserve better than— Than someone like me."
The words hung in the air like dust in a crypt as the silence between them spread like blood from a wound. Cleo turned away again. Of course. Of course they'd just snapped at Pearl. Of course they'd just yelled at her, the one person to keep routinely showing them any amount of kindness. What kind of monster would do that? Of course they were a monster, how could they be anything else?
Pearl's ever-cheerful voice broke the silence. "Nahh, you're not a monster!"
"Yes I am," Cleo said darkly. Only a monster would kill so many people for food. Only a monster would give up fighting him. Only a monster would come to Oakhurst. Only a monster would let themself get bitten. Only a monster would kill someone trying to do good. Only a monster would keep someone so good, so wonderful, here all to themself, never letting her rest, always forcing her to take care of them.
"You're not." Pearl's voice was more forceful this time. Cleo felt her hand on their shoulder, warm, and gentle, and real. "I've never thought of you as a monster. Ever."
Pearl paused, as Cleo looked around. There were still no tears in Cleo's eyes. Pearl was gently moving her hair away from her neck.
"D'you wanna see how I see you?"
Cleo let out a slight laugh. Of course. Of course, Pearl knew by now it was fruitless trying to argue with Cleo when they were Like This. When they were being so self-deprecating, and forcing Pearl to help them. But… Pearl was still here. So as stupid as Cleo thought it was, they sat down, and let Pearl sit on their lap, neck exposed. Besides… Since Vampires can see the memories of the people they drink blood from, Cleo can at least find out exactly how Pearl sees them. All the times Cleo's upset her, all the time she's been mad at them. While Cleo saw some of Pearl's memories when they turned her, it was such a long jumble that Cleo had had a hard time picking out the ones about them. A lot of the memories that floated to the surface were related to how Pearl was feeling at the time. A lot of memories about her family. And the times before, there weren't many memories Cleo could pick out of themself, and they all got mostly brushed under the rug what with Pearl's… Wolf Incidents. But this time… With Pearl focusing on the memories of Cleo's…
Cleo bared their fangs, licking them to prepare, and took a deep bite into Pearl's neck.
The rush of warm blood filled Cleo's mouth. They were drowning in the blood, drowning, they couldn't breathe, they— Vampires don't need to breathe. Cleo swallowed, the iron taste making its way down their throat. It warmed up everything in Cleo it touched. Much like the way Pearl's soft exhale at the bite softened Cleo's heart. They moved away from Pearl's neck, letting the blood run down the side of their face, taking in Pearl's face. Despite them having just bitten deeply into her neck, Pearl was smiling widely, eyes closed. Pearl was obviously enjoying this just as much as Cleo was. As they went in for a second, long drink, the memories started to trail in—initially slow, but speeding up until Cleo was drowning in them.
Memories of Cleo and Pearl's first meeting, of their promises to stick together, of the sunflowers, of their plan to save the town… Memories that painted Cleo in such a beautiful light. A much better light than they deserved. But Cleo couldn't deny. This version of themself, the one they saw through Pearl's eyes… They shone. They shone so brightly that the rest of the dim world seemed to be lit up too.
The second time Cleo moved away from Pearl's neck, it was a lot less graceful. Tears were streaming down Cleo's face as the sobs of so many years came gushing out. Tight arms wrapped around Cleo, steadying them, holding them in an embrace.
"You're not a monster. Not to me. Not ever. Whatever you've done in the past, it doesn't matter. You've spent so long trying to make amends, trying to save people, that—"
"It'll never— It won't matter. It won't cancel out," Cleo's sobs made it hard to speak. But Pearl just tightened her hug, letting Cleo put their head on her shoulder, and sob relentlessly onto her shirt.
"It will. It does. It has. Whatever you've done, whoever you've hurt… It doesn't matter now. Because if you were a monster like you say you are, you wouldn't be so distraught by the thought of it all. You couldn't be." Cleo felt Pearl's hand slowly stroke their hair. "You were a child… You did what you could, and you tried so, so hard. And you got out. And from that moment on, you started to make amends. You're not a monster. Not to me."
There was no response. Pearl, as always, was right. And deep down, behind all of the fear, behind all of the thoughts, Cleo knew that. They'd gotten out. They were a child. They had saved as many people of Oakhurst that they could. Was that something a monster would do?
Cleo shuddered, and evidently Pearl noticed, because they heard a very quiet, very soft whisper in their ear.
"I love you."
Maybe Cleo wasn't a monster, like they thought. At the very least, not quite as much. They were safe here. Safe with Pearl. Safe in her strong yet gentle arms. Safe in Oakhurst. Because of Cleo. It was Cleo who had tried so hard to make Oakhurst safe.
Cleo wanted the moment to last for days. And maybe it did, Cleo sobbing into Pearl's shoulder while she hugged them tightly. Pearl's whisperings, reiterating that it wasn't their fault, that they're not a monster, that they're safe. And in this moment, they felt loved. More loved than they had done for so long.
A small whisper finally escapes Cleo's mouth.
"Thank you."
