americas_son | Sunnydale AU: simple words

Cal laughs softly. He can't help it.

"That's one word for it," he agrees.

She laughs, too. "I can't think of better words at the moment. Nice. Sweet. Awesome."

"I like 'awesome,'" Cal decides. "Awesome works."

"Awesome," she giggles, taking his hands in hers. She leans her head against the back of the couch and smiles at him.

"Awesome," Cal echoes, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Were we going to watch a movie or something? Not that I'm perfectly fine how we are right now, but I'd like to hang out a little while."

"Yeah."

That sounds vaguely familiar.

"And I was going to - tell you some things."

He'd rather kiss Tina than talk about his father, or Stane for that matter, but - well, now he's thinking about them both, so maybe kissing her wouldn't be the best idea anyway.

"Yeah?"

She kisses his cheek and cuddles up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Okay. If you want to."

He likes the feel of her head against his shoulder. He slips his arm more securely around her.

"They're not secrets, exactly - I mean, not like, deep dark confessions or whatever. Just . . . Sunnydale stuff. Stuff that had to get hidden because people wouldn't believe it."

"Stuff that happened to you?"

Yeah... it sounds like something serious.

". . . Yeah," Cal says slowly. "Or - in front of me.

"Like - we told everyone that my dad was sick. After my last birthday party, we said he was sick to explain why he couldn't show up anywhere, but he - he left the party with this woman, which, whatever, he's done that like a million times. But this one turned out to be a vampire."

He pauses, realizes what Tina probably thinks is coming next, makes himself continue. To clarify.

"She turned him."

What the fuck do you say to something like that? Jesus. She looks up at Cal and strokes his cheek.

"God, I'm so sorry, Cal."

Cal closes his eyes for a second, leaning into her touch.

"He actually lived here for a while after that. Mother invited him in. She - I don't think she did it on purpose, but she won't talk about it."

He can't blame her for that. He wouldn't either.

"That's why I'm in charge now, after - after everything settled. People, I mean they didn't think I'd be good at it or anything, but I wasn't the one who invited a fucking vampire into the house. He could've killed them. He, he pretended for a while, we all pretended, but . . ." He shrugs. He doesn't want to talk about seeing his mother half-conscious on the floor. Or about Grahame dabbing at fresh marks in his throat.

"Sherlock went after the vampire who did it. That's where he got the scars."

"How did he not- how are you all still alive? I didn't think vampires even thought. I thought they just attacked."

Now she's a little scared, because she thought his dad was dead, and that's correct, but not really.

"Sherlock took on a vampire? Damn."

If he took on one... maybe he took on Cal's dad, too.

His arm tightens around her a little. He finds it oddly reassuring, being the one offering the comforting gesture.

"He - controlled himself for a while. They can. They just don't usually bother. I guess he thought it was fun or something.

"He wanted to turn me. He almost did. But I - Tony made these things, these laserpointers, they make UV light like the sun, and they set vampires on fire. I. I had mine on me. When he tried."

So... Cal killed his father. No, not his father. The monster that took over his father.

"That must have been... I wouldn't be able to stand that."

Tina doesn't give herself much credit.

She shakes her head. It's too horrible to dwell upon.

"Tony and Sherlock are both vampire fighters, right?"

Cal closes his eyes hard for a moment, then opens them.

"It's amazing what you can stand when you don't have any choice." He gives her a little squeeze.

"Sherlock does sometimes. I don't think Tony does."

"He just makes the cool tools to take care of them. Like the guy who helps James Bond."

She doesn't know Sherlock well yet, but the thought of him in a James Bond tuxedo already strikes her as hilarious.

(She would rather laugh than fret, so the incongruous image is welcome.)

Cal smiles a little.

"Yeah. Like him."

"You've picked some good friends to get you through," she says, stroking his cheek again. "Real good friends."

Cal leans into the touch, the way he did before.

"I got pretty lucky."

He sighs a little.

"Anyway. We had to make up this whole thing about how he got sick and it put a strain on his heart and he had a heart attack when we thought he was better. We can't exactly tell the truth."

"God, no. No one would believe you, for one. It's a smart story. I know it was hard to tell, but I'm glad you used it."

She kisses his cheek and hugs him. "I'm glad you told me, too."

Cal hugs back, holding on to her a moment before letting go.

"Had to," he says. "I mean. Not telling you was basically lying."

And he doesn't want to lie to her.

She nods and then she smiles.

She gets it. He doesn't want to lie to her, and he admits it. That is... pretty incredible.

"Thanks. That's- Yeah. Thanks."

Cal smiles.

"We had to glamor a fake corpse for the funeral," he says after a moment, still smiling. "It was so fucking ridiculous, but nobody would have believed Reed Chandler not having an open-casket funeral."

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