socoolbrewster | Don't Tell Me How This Game Ends -- Fright Night AU

It was a game of fucking cat and mouse and Ed knew it. He'd thought he had it under control, thought he'd picked the right house, one that was actually OCCUPIED, but of course in his hurry to get away from Mark he picked the wrong one and ended up out of the metaphorical frying pan and right into the fire. He scrambled through the house, a mirror image of just about every other one in the neighborhood; down the hallway, up the stairs (why was it always up the stairs, there was nowhere to GO upstairs), and he knew it was pure idiocy to assume he'd get the upper hand, but he'd seen enough movies to know you had to keep moving, keep thinking. Even if it looked like you were heading for a dead end.

All he wanted was to get home alive.

Dammit, Brewster, why couldn't he have listened just this once? The rest of it fine, whatever, but this time it had actually MATTERED, he could have avoided all this shit if he'd just been there when he was supposed to be.

The bathroom had a window that led out onto the roof. It was better than nothing. Ed shut the door behind him then scrambled out, inching to the edge and dropping down; he landed wrong, he'd have to deal with that twinge later, but he had to get OUT first, so he kept moving. Backyard, back over the fence, get as many fences between him and It as he could, then lock the door behind him and string garlic around every single entrance in the house...

Except he was waiting. With that stupid fucking creepy-ass grin, wide as the Cheshire Cat's and just as smug. Ed's heart was jackrabbiting in his chest, hard enough and loud enough that he could practically feel it and hear it himself and all he could think was a constant stream of "shit shit shit" that left a feeling of impending doom and barely contained panic buzzing in his head and pushed out all rational thought. He stumbled backwards, still trying to escape on autopilot, except he didn't factor in the rest of his surroundings, and a single misstep sent him backwards into the pool, flailing and scrambling for purchase that wasn't there.

He swallowed a few mouthfuls out of surprise before finding his feet, sputtered his protests and scrounged for what little protection he still had; a rosary, stuffed in a pocket, and it wasn't enough to really comfort him much but he brandished it anyway because it was all he had, he'd left the rest of the kit by the street in the daring escape that had gotten him into this mess.

With fumbling bravado he didn't feel he made his stand, and he'd always thought it would be a bigger deal than this, would be more than a scared kid who had no idea what the fuck he was doing standing off against a real-life monster. He'd thought he'd be more prepared, know the right things to say and at least see SOME kind of headway, but It just kept smirking in that utterly infuriating way, then started to tear down his stand completely, from the top down.

Except then he stopped, turned his head like he'd heard something, and Ed could have sworn he smelled smoke but he couldn't see where it was coming from.

And then he saw her.

A girl about the same age as he was with flaming red hair, just...standing there, completely casual but for the look of pure annoyance that graced her features. And the fireballs in her hands. He didn't know if he was just hallucinating out of blind terror or if this was actually happening, but really he didn't give much of a shit either way. She shouted something, but he didn't stop to register what, just took the opportunity while the vampire -- Jerry, Brewster had said -- was distracted to scramble out of the pool and put as much distance between himself and the situation as he could, rosary still clenched tightly in his fist.

Okay. This was...maybe he could get out of this. Whatever it had turned into.

The girl stepped closer to the vampire, and he hissed in irritation, bared his fangs and leaned away from the heat. Ed felt a laugh building in his chest, and he didn't exactly think anything about this was funny but it forced its way out anyway, an unsteady snigger ringed with hysterical desperation. The girl shot him a glare and he suppressed the sudden and irrational urge to flip her off; now wasn't exactly the time for it.

Jerry took a step towards her, braving the threat with vicious fangs and the confident demeanor that had gotten him this far, and the moment she released the flames Ed made his move, snagging her by the wrist despite the proximity of the flames and jerking her towards the front yard; he was already going to need an icepack or three in the morning, what was a third degree burn, really. She shouted in protest but followed after in light of his insistence, and they were out of the yard and beating feet down the street before It was even out of the pool.

They made it three streets, maybe four before adrenaline finally wore off and they were forced to stop to catch their breath, huge hitching gulps that seemed to take forever to ease down into something approaching normal.

This time when the laughter forced its way out he couldn't stop it, short bursts that were well past hysterical, one continuous spasm that made his sides hurt and threatened to stop his breathing entirely before he finally got it under control. The girl glared at him again, even while she struggled to stop a laugh of her own, but this time he did flip her off, smirking all the while because he could barely believe what had happened, that he was still around TO be glared at and not dumped in the pool or worse.

"Thanks," he finally hazarded, once he'd gotten himself under control. "That was some pretty killer timing. ...I'm Ed."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment or so, uncertain, before offering "Charlie. So what just...?"

"Vampire." He waited for the expected face, the look of complete disbelief, and wasn't disappointed. "I'm serious. You did see the fangs, right? And the eyes?" She nodded. "He's a vampire. His name's Jerry."

"...Jerry?" The disbelief turned into outright amusement, accompanied by an almost-teasing smile of her own.

"I.didn't.name.him." First Brewster, now her; nobody had ever said they all had to be named Barnabus or Victor or something dramatic. "But I'm pretty sure I'd be dead or worse if you didn't show up when you did with the...fire thing, so...thanks." He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, suddenly self-conscious now that he had an audience. The sun was still down, and if he had to guess he'd say there wouldn't be anything else from Jerry tonight, but he wouldn't stake money on it. Not for sure.

"Or worse?"

"Turned."

"...Oh."

"Yeah. So. Thanks. Anyway. I gotta go, it's not safe out here, I doubt you did much more than piss him off. You should probably get home too. Lie low." A hesitating pause, then: "I'll see you around."

She nodded, and if he had to guess he'd say she was relieved, but his mind was on other things. Protection, preparation. Jerry knew they were onto him, and with Adam gone and Brewster still running around with his head up his ass, Ed was the only one left to do anything about it. He'd have to move soon.

They parted ways, and he figured that would be the last he'd see of her. He tried Brewster again the next day but he bailed the same as he had for months now, and by the time Ed gave up waiting it was too late to try on his own. Jerry came to visit before he'd even gotten home, pulled the same trick he had with Adam's family to remove the remaining loose end, the last threat he could find, and with the last of his support gone this time Ed fell, resigned to his fate because there were no alternatives, no cavalry to pull him from the brink this time.

He ran across her again later, during one of his unsupervised outings after being pulled into the fold, but despite the fact that he was supposed to be hunting he didn't kill her, didn't even try other than an attempt that really seemed more for show than anything else. She'd tried to help him once, and while the ending was the same it hadn't been through any fault of hers. He'd let her stick around a little longer.

For now, anyway.