Pretty When You Cry - Chapter 6
TITLE: Pretty When You Cry
FANDOM: Ginger Snaps
RATING: Hard R
DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned it. We'd have seen Jason in the sequel, known what'd happened to him and maybe he'd have been the wolf chasing Brigitte. BUT I don't own it, so I must settle to write fan fiction that no one reads for free. Life sucks, huh?
6. DEVOTED
Having to deal with Ginger Fitzgerald was no joyride. Jason if anyone had been enlightened on the subject endlessly ever since he’d gotten through to her and then in her pants. One moment she was completely into something and the next she wanted to wreck it. She was a wayward child, a force of nature that struggled to roam free. But she needed boundaries too and setting them was one hell of a job. Especially when she wouldn’t even talk to him after he’d tried to set the said boundaries.
Okay so, maybe threatening her life wasn’t the way to proceed in this messy situation, but at the time he’d felt she needed to hear it, and, God forbid, he’d meant it too. He’d really felt like he could reach out his hand to her throat and rip it open with no greater regret. If she had continued with her fuck off attitude then, he just might’ve too, but no, she’d pulled back and submitted. The next she’d already ran outside and stood there leaning against a wall with a burning cigarette in her shaking hands when he’d found her.
She hadn’t really talked to her after that, and he hadn’t tried to discourage silence between either. They just walked around town until they’d found the bus stop they’d talked about earlier on and Ginger had picked a random location from the list. After that they’d waited for the bus to arrive. It’d taken its merry-fucking time too as it’d turned out: hours to be exact.
He’d tried to drag her ass inside the car then but she’d suddenly decided she wanted to go to another place instead and went right back to the spot where he’d just hauled her up from. Jason had considered kicking her, maybe slapping that attitude off her face, but considering why she was giving him a hard time in the first place he’d given up and just sat down. And again they’d waited.
Few hours later, another bus had arrived and Jason had noticed to his great pleasure that she was still intending to get on it. He’d paid them in, watched her move to the darkest corner in the damn car and then made him sit in it while she got the corridor seat. Few minutes later she’d told him to wrap his arm around her and proceeded to fall asleep against him. He hadn’t quite understood any of it, but hadn’t had the energy to start fighting with her either. The time for that would come later for sure.
It was already dark by the time the bus was supposed to have reached its destination and Ginger had been slumbering blissfully for most of the journey by then. Jason on the other hand had been fully awake. He’d watched the sceneries change, the light of day drain from that horizon when the evening came and felt oddly comforted to know they were nowhere near Bailey Downs anymore. There was something about the place - maybe its connection to who they’d been - that threw him off. He didn’t want to remember that life anymore. In it he’d been the guy stalking her with his eyes from the corner of the football field. He’d sat there with his friends, watched her, cheered, thrown in mean comments and enjoyed himself fully.
But that person wasn’t him. It was the same motherfucker that’d began squeaking like a schoolgirl when his urine had turned red, or the guy that had been straddled by the freak Fitzgerald. He was another Jason, a wolf, a free man. The difference between him and the weak boy was so fundamental that just implying he had anything to do with his former self felt like an insult. He put up with it from her, because he couldn’t tell the difference between Fitz the freak and werewolf Ginger either. He would eventually though; he’d get right down to the bottom of her.
He turned his head from the scenery, looked at her sleeping form: her face pressed against his chest, that blissfully unaware expression. If someone had told him three months ago that he’d be holding her like this while they were in a bus going to the middle nowhere, he would’ve had that person’s head checked. They were from different worlds then. She was girl plotting suicide to the point where she would have her pictures taken while posing in different after-suicide poses, whereas he couldn’t care less about anything but some weed and chasing skirts. The only common space they had was when there was no space between them.
And now, light years away from that situation he was tempted to brush off that lock of red hair from her face. He was tempted to touch her again, place his mouth on hers, and move inside her until she admitted it wasn’t just hate between them. This was different from the closeness back in his car. That’d been quick, almost empty. Today it wouldn’t even prove to be satisfactory. No, this was affectionate, caring. Whatever this beast inside of him was, it recognized that they were alike and felt drawn to her for that reason. He’d already found himself thinking that she belonged to him, so maybe it was a wolf thing like he’d tried telling her.
It wasn’t just that they were alike either. No he’d been drawn to her long before that. Ginger was the kind of girl your wet dreams were made of. She was fucking beautiful, even when she barely had hair on her head. It was the grace she had when she wasn’t even aware of her beauty that made her shine: When she didn’t make an effort to please but acted on her whims and did everything just the way she wanted to.
She was always so confident, free in all the ways she shouldn’t be. Not anymore, now she’d been caged where he’d been freed. She was struggling to get back on top of the game but couldn’t seem to heal the hole in her stomach despite her desperate attempts to regenerate. She’d told him Brigitte had aimed for the ribs; that her grip on the knife hadn’t faltered even when she’d slid down with it still stuck in her gut. Sure there’d been tears, but no true remorse. Brigitte hadn’t wanted to see her get up afterwards. That’s what kept Ginger so shattered, made the pieces hard to pick up.
Then the bus rolled out of darkness, light engulfed it again and Jason realized they were there. He shook her a bit to wake her and got a groan out of her as proof that he didn’t need to get intimate to wake her up. Or then she’d just become a light sleeper after that one. “We’re there.” He told her, observing her groggy face. “Really?” she asked her voice still thick from sleep.
She was the one to move first, retreat from this lovely position and straighten up. He felt warm after having her cuddle against his chest for so long but the warmth began retreating immediately after she walked out of the bus, leaving him chasing after her clumsily like he’d been the one to doze off for a few hours. When he got out, the doors slid close behind him and the bus got going again, as if in haste to get the fuck out of here.
Ginger stood a few meters away from him, probably digging her pockets for more cigarettes, only she couldn’t find any. Oh yeah, she’d given them to the fucker beside her after he’d taken hold of her shaking hands and lit the cigarette in her mouth for her. He hadn’t said anything, just looked a bit repentant when he’d stuffed the lighter and cigarettes in his pockets afterwards. She turned to face him, unsure whether she could ask for them back now.
He looked back at her, interpreting her facial expressions quietly before he took a step forward and offered her a cigarette again. Any cockiness she’d regained while waiting for his return in that motel room seemed to have vanished again. Fuck, wasn’t there a middle ground between scared little fuck Ginger and bitch Ginger? “Complain a little,” he said while lighting his own cigarette, “you’re starting to get me worried.”
She almost even smiled at that. “Well I dunno, McCardy. You didn’t exactly explain what shitting on our deal is,” she mumbled a moment later, apparently recovered. Good, he didn’t want to drag a scared shitless girl with him. She needed to keep that attitude of hers, at least partly.
“I don’t like to be thrown things at, or downplayed every fucking minute,” he listed, wondering if there was a third to add in there. “I’d also like to be shown a little gratitude when I do something nice.”
Ginger closed the gap between them, immediately gaining his full attention. Her eyes were full of contradicting spunk that she showed by smiling mischievously. “How much gratitude?” She asked sliding her hand beneath his armpit and entangling it together with his like she was in heat in again. The cold air made him shiver, but her body radiated warmth, and she seemed to have forgotten all about their disagreements. Hell, this was downright a reminiscent of her coming onto him before.
He measured her with his eyes for a moment, sensing the slightest hint of hope. “Any you feel like giving.”
She looked back at him like a predator to her prey. Her eyes shone, her lips were curved with invitation. He didn’t care what’d changed her mind so quickly at this point. No, just knowing there wasn’t another strained moment waiting for them behind the corner today gave his mind some long-waited ease.
Jason scanned their surroundings, looking at his left and right and then at her hand in his. She didn’t let go even after she was fully aware that he’d registered it by now, he noticed somewhat joyously. Then his eyes had already shifted back to their surroundings. His voice sounded alert and strained when he spoke next. “Let’s get going. I have a bad hunch about this place.”
She let him tighten his hold on her hand and didn’t try to wriggle her way out it, because she’d noticed the change in him; how he sounded concerned. The firm grip also felt nice for a change, after she’d avoided touching anything for real since she’d been rejected by the only person, who had been able to calm her with her closeness. Maybe this was a good sign, seeing as they didn’t exactly excel at making skin on skin contact without one or the other prepared to be wriggling her or his way out of it quickly, Ginger wondered. The furrows on Jason’s forehead deepened after he glanced over his shoulder for the second time already.
It didn’t rain anymore though the moist asphalt shined under light to prove it had. The place she’d picked was a city he’d never really heard of before. The buildings weren’t reaching for the skies, but tall enough to form shadowy allies between them. There were also traffic lights in the crossways, so there had to be a moderate amount of people. Maybe measured in tens of thousands?
Not a lot of people were on the move, it was the quiet hour between the evening and night, the darkness that’d landed still felt alien. Some kids here and there, riding skateboards and yelling at by-passers. Cars ran past them, ringing their horns, the jubilant youth inside screaming, throwing stuff out of the windows. Neither of them really paid any attention, just kept scanning the area for a place to stay.
Jason still couldn’t trace the reason for his unease or restlessness, just knew he didn’t like this place. His hold on Ginger’s hand tightened when a drunkard passed by, mumbling something at them, but losing interest quickly. Jason yelled a ‘fuck you’ after him, and continued walking, even more pissed now. She just frowned at it, couldn’t understand why he was so tense. His eyes sailed on the horizon almost obsessively.
“You’re strung up pretty tight,” she commented, getting no response as he tried to avoid talking about it at first. She yanked his arm gently next and got him to look at her and sigh, “No I’m not.”
“You’re not?” she asked, doubtful and bored. “What the fuck do you give?” He snapped and pulled their arms apart suddenly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Now he was really moody, like he’d be having that time of the month. Ginger wasn’t exactly the expert in handling cranky people, seeing as she was usually the one throwing a fit, but seeing him this vexed brought up unusual concern in her. She kinda wanted to help… or at least get him to act all dorky again because his bitchiness was catchy.
“What about that bad hunch? Wanna tell me about that?” She tried to smooth talk the answer out of him, even laid her hand on his shoulder. His body jerked away from her as soon as she touched him though, bringing them both to a halt. They were left staring at one another bewildered. She could see pearls of sweat in his hairline, a troubled look on his face like he was being really uncomfortable - Like a dog with its tail between its legs, making noises.
The image stuck with her, although he was eager to shake it and started walking again with an increased pace. “McCardy,” she raised her voice while calling out his name and took a few running steps to reach him. The motherfucker was being really difficult right now. She was about to reach him now, had gotten by his side, when a by-passer bumped into her, getting her off-course and face to face with an unfamiliar leering face. Her focus shifted from Jason, who walked on for a moment before he even noticed she wasn’t still walking behind him.
The shadows in his eye corner alerted him though and Jason froze, turning to see what’d happened to Ginger. She tried to take a step closer to him but got caught off by the stranger again, who shot her with an evaluating look and whispered something obscene at her. “In your fucking dreams!” She yelled, pulling back from the person blocking her way to Jason. Her eyes went wild, her hand was clutched to a fist, but the stranger wouldn’t back down, just kept staring at her in an unwelcome way.
Jason’s blood began boiling, his mind was getting static and reason vanishing; it didn’t take him but seconds to get what the underlying tension was about. Then he’d already strode back to them just as the man was about to start approaching Ginger. “Leave her the fuck alone!” He commanded, taking the stranger by the fist and yanking at his hand. Only his ears registered with a fleshy noise of something tearing apart and Jason quickly found himself holding an arm by the wrist - an arm that was no longer attached to the stranger’s shoulder.
The stranger’s eyes widened as the information reached his brain and the pain kicked in and he started screaming quickly, his horrified eyes locked with his prematurely ending limb. His eyes then registered with the harmless looking Jason standing behind him, holding his arm in his grip, his face completely blank. The man began running; he rushed past Ginger, screaming and bumping into everything along the way. Some time after he’d vanished from sight, they were still there, listening to his resounding screaming and staring at the arm Jason was holding in unison.
“What the fuck?!” Ginger cursed, harping to Jason who still wasn’t moving. He just stared at the arm, and then lifted his gaze and pointed it right past Ginger, before his gaze fell on the arm again. She didn’t stay and wait, but took the arm from him and grabbed his shoulders to shake him awake from the shock. He was still stuck in that moment, unable to catch the enormity of what he’d just done.
“Jason!” She called his name and ended up slapping him, which finally shifted his eyes on her. He was still staggered, but at least now he was thinking straight again.
“How the fuck did you manage that?!” She asked, crushing the arm in her grasp until realizing she was still holding onto it and dropping it on the ground. “I don’t fucking know!” He protested against her anger, clearly adamant that he wasn’t to be blamed for any of this.
Ginger didn’t listen to his excuses though; just grabbed him from his forearm and started dragging him away from the crime scene in fear that the now one-armed molester would be dragging the police there some time soon. She actually hoped the bleeding would get to him before that, because there was no way she’d be taken in for something like this. Avoiding trouble after you’d just slaughtered half a dozen people and then gone Houdini after it was pretty important if you didn’t wanna get caught.
Jason just stared at his blood smeared hand, unable to grasp the strength his harmless looking limb now possessed. He was a fucking god, probably the one of carnage, even in human form. But why wasn’t she?
TBC