The Difference Between You and Me - Chapter 26

Okay, just a note to a small sum of you who have been questioning the way in which Colie has miscarried. Your right, I don't know if it's possible to throw up your baby. I made it up. But seriously you guys, do you honestly think the means of anything possible really has to apply in a SUPERNATURAL story? Come on. Practically everything in this story is make-belief. Would you have rather made Colie go to the toilet and crap it out, which is possible? On a lighter note, enjoy the chapter. =)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I felt like I was outside myself, like I was watching everything happen from the eyes of someone I didn’t know. And then a shiver crept up my spine and I was zapped back into my body again.

That’s when the screams started.

I stumbled away from the toilet, my hands covering my blood-streaked mouth as I stared in horror at the baby - my baby - which had previously resided inside me. Which would now never have a life.

My screams grew louder, and I was vaguely aware of a pair of arms spinning me around and pulling me into a warm embrace, tucking my head into their neck.

I just couldn’t believe it. My baby, who had previously been inside of me, my baby, who would have grown up to have a life, to have friends, to laugh and to cry, to have memories and a future and me to love him….my baby was now dead.

It was too much for me to handle. The sobs came tailing the screams of denial, and I clutched onto Zane’s shirt as I wept into his shoulder. And all the while he just held me. No soothing words, no soft croons telling me that everything would be Okay, just an embrace that I could drown in. An embrace that I felt safe in. That was all I needed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We stood in his room together, Zane’s thickly muscled arms wrapped protectively around me, and his long fingers stroked tendrils of my hair while I leaned my head into his shoulder, my fingers clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt,

I had stopped crying after about an hour, and all the while Zane had just held me, which provided a sort of safe ground for me. I needed him there – and my emotions were too frazzled to deny that fact.

Finally, he set me down on his bed, and it was a lucky thing that he still kept a hold of me because I knew I would have flopped down, limp, against his duvet. He sat me down on his lap so that we were face to face, my legs wrapped around his hips and his arms securely gripped around my waist. One arm loosened from me and his fingers held my chin firmly, tilting my head up, forcing me too look up at him. And then, with a softness that stunned me, he leaned forward and tenderly pressed just a whisper of a kiss on my lips. Emerald green stared into murky hazel.

Suddenly, I didn’t know what to say. He had been so nice to me, understanding was more the word, and I knew I had to say something to that. ‘I…’ I hesitated. ‘Thank you….Zane. For everything.’

He said nothing, but that smile that always got my heart to swell curved his lips.

I wanted to reach out and touch his mouth, to trace my fingers over his smooth skin. Anything to distract myself from what had just happened.

And then he spoke. ‘I think you need a change of clothes.’

I glanced down at my clothes, and my heart sunk. Blood was splattered everywhere, down my t-shirt and my jeans. That was about…what, one-thousand, five-hundred pounds gone to waste?

I sighed and made to crawl off of his lap. ‘I’ll just go and change now.’

‘No,’ he pulled me back into his lap. ‘You can wear one of my shirts.’

I pursed my lips, momentarily forgetting about my previous distress. ‘Zane, I have my own clothes.’

A low growl bubbled deep within his throat. ‘No. You will wear of my shirts.’

I huffed and folded my arms across my chest. ‘No. I already told you – I have my own clothes.’

The growl in his throat got deeper. ‘Colie.’ Amazing how someone can make your name sound like a threat.

But I’d be dammed if I was backing down. ‘Zane.’

With a snarl, his hand grabbed onto the front of my shirt and tore it right down the middle. Before I could really grasp the reality of what was happening, my shirt had been thrown to the other side of the room, and my jeans were being ripped from my legs, the now useless fabric falling to the ground.

Zane smirked. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a shirt?’

And then it hit me. I was in the mere clothing of bra and panties in front of Zane. I was half-naked, in front of Zane.

I squealed and tried to jump for cover, but Zane was dragging me into his arms, pressing his lips to my ear and drawling, ‘Wow, Colie. Blue really suits you. And wow, they’re even see-through,’ while his hands caressed the skin of my waist.

I was furious. I started hitting his shoulders with the heel of my hands - childish, I know, but what else could I do? – and shrieked, ‘Hey! You tore my clothes!’

He smirked again, and that was when self-consciousness started nagging at my conscience. I bit my lip as my mind played thoughts of horror. What if he thought I looked ugly half-naked?

That was when I - successfully - leaped out of Zane’s arms, and ducked so that Zane could see only my head. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll wear one of your shirts.’

He grinned, I scowled. He then proceeded to open the top drawer in his chest of drawers, and after rummaging around for a second or two, he pulled out a blue dress shirt and threw it to me.

I hurriedly pulled the fabric over my body, buttoning it up. I then stood up and looked down at myself. The shirt was baggy on me, and reached mid-thigh - much shorter than I wanted.

When I glared accusingly at Zane, his top lip curled up. ‘Wow, Colie,’ he drawled. ‘Blue really does suit you.’
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stroked Sasha’s soft, brown fur absent-mindedly, my mind wandering to a place where I was alone. I had miscarried. I, Colie Ledger, girlfriend of Vincent, The Dark One, had miscarried. And the ache in my stomach would just not stop.

‘Colie?’ Zane’s voice broke me out of my own little world, and I glanced up at him.

We were sitting on the ground floor together, in the sort of…living room? I wasn’t sure what it was called. All I knew was that it was the first room you walked into when you entered through the front door, and all the rooms on the ground floor seemed to lead to the room we were sitting in. It had couches and pillows….nothing else, though.

‘Yes?’ I said, my spin running along the middle of Sasha’s spine.

‘Would you have told me?’

I looked up sharply. I knew what he was referring to, but I did not want to let him see this. I fixed my gaze back on the rabbit that I held in my hand, my mind flying through possibilities of what I could tell him. ‘I…no, I wouldn’t have.’ For some reason, it didn’t surprise me that I was being truthful. Zane always made me do things that I least expected of myself.

‘It wouldn’t have made a difference,’ Zane said, and I looked him in the eye, directly into those brilliant green depths. ‘I wouldn’t have let you go. You would still be mien, and when that baby was born, he would have been mine, too. He would have been ours.’

I was overwhelmed by a bundle of emotions that, granted, I was familiar with, but had never felt to such an extent. Shock was the main one, tangled with surprise and, most of all, confusion. He would have acted as a father to my baby?

‘I…’ I didn’t know what to say. ‘Zane…thank you.’

He neither smiled nor said a word this time, just stared at me with that unfathomable expression, the one where I knew he could be thinking of anything.

And then, to my confusion, he took the rabbit out of my hands, and laid her gently on the floor. Then he reached for me, and pulled me into his arms. I did not stop him.

His lips came down on mine with a sort of hesitancy that I had never associated with Zane, nor his actions. A hand crept to the back of my neck while the other arm curled around my waist. Much to my dissatisfaction, he did not let his lips linger on mine for too long. He planted butterfly kisses on my mouth, while my neck arched, begging for more.

But then I jumped back at the sound of footsteps entering the room - multiple pairs of footsteps. Zane snapped his head around, and my eyes grew wide when they came into contact with seven, eight, no, nine men, standing there, looking a strange combination of defiant and timid. I had never seen them before in my life.

‘My coven,’ Zane growled too low for anyone but me to hear. And when I looked, startled, at his face, all my alarm bells started ringing at the way Zane looked very, very furious.