[Private] At Every Turn

My hands convulsively gripped at the steering wheel as I drove, my knuckles standing out in contrast to my skin. Shit, I definitely could've handled that better. I wouldn't have fucking done something like this a couple of months ago. I would've actually thought out a plan that worked without gaining attention from other people. A plan that didn't involve me having to say I was a fucking dyke. Seriously, the way that guy had looked us over. Thank fuck telepathy was a selective gift or I'd honestly have probably wanted to kill myself. I was already close to it as is.

I could hear her stirring then, jerking me away from stomach churning thoughts. I glanced over and groaned at the look on her face. Okay so I'd already fucking admitted to myself that it was a bad move to do what I'd done but shit, I wasn't going to apologize for it. I wasn't, no really, I wasn't. I wa- Fuck, I'm sorry okay? I needed to get you away from the airport and, this time offense intended, you were being an uncooperative bitch. I stopped, pressing my lips in a line and drawing in a deep breath through my nose. 

And seriously, I could not have picked a worse fucking time to do that.

The sounds and smell hit me like a tonne of fucking bricks, making my press down on the break and bring us to a jarring halt. You've got to be fucking kidding me. I said, a slight whine creeping into my voice. Why me? Why. Fucking. Me? I was actually trying to do something fucking somewhat nice for a change! And this- this!- was what happened. Proof that giving a damn about people was just fucking bad for you. Not that I gave a damn about- ah, what the fuck ever. I leaned forward, hitting my head repetitively and a snarl of disgust leaving me. That shit was so far past vile.

Her voice managed to get me back to the present and I sat up, shaking my head like it could magically get rid of the smell. I would seriously exchange my gift right now for one that just allowed me to turn my fucking sense of smell of. Like, in a heartbeat.

Shit, chill out. It's not your fucking fault. You're sick and it's only going to get worse, okay? I could not fucking handle a crying chick right now, I really couldn't. My jaw was clenching so hard that it ached but it was on the edge of losing my temper again and I knew she didn't deserve it. I pinched the bridge of my nose hard for a few seconds before I started the truck again, opening both window from the control on the driver door. I started talking, like that might help. There's better ways to do this but I don't have the fucking time or the patience. You were bitten by an animal a month ago, right? I glanced over at her, wondering how much time I had. I was early but the days were still short enough that the moon wasn't fair off. I know you're a cop, but I'm about to the break the speed limit. I'd advise you not to whine about it. I said, pressing my foot down on the pedal, glad for the wind now blowing in through the windows. And answer my question, do you remember what happened? I was trying my fucking best to ease her into this but I knew I was doing a shitty job.

None of what was happening made any sense. I sat, shivering slightly, but I didn't know if it was the wetness of my sick covered clothes turning cold that was the cause, or just the fact I felt so ill. My teeth were practically chattering, and yet the breeze from the window was a relief. It felt like every muscle, bone, cell and feeling in my body had two contrasting sides fighting against each other. The smell only made the situation worse, and I could only pray that it wasn't any worse considering my near-liquid diet of recent days.

My gaze flicked to Peyton and I turned to her with a deep frown, trying to tense to stop the worst of my shaking without being too distracted. My mind was a mess and it was difficult to think, but I managed to try and pull a few of my brain cells together to fathom the only logical conclusion. How do you know, and why would it get worse? Is it infected? ? I don't know how you're involved in whatever's going on, but kidnapping me isn't going to get you anywhere, Peyton. If you take me to the nearest police station and cooperate I'm sure they'll go easy on you... but this isn't the answer to anything. I wrapped my arms around myself, practically huddled against the large truck seat. My distant gaze drifted out of the windscreen. And speed limits are there for a reason. I said, primly, but not with as much conviction as I felt. Instead I just sounded exhausted.

No seriously, what the fuck had she been eating? This couldn't just be from having a heightened sense of smell, right? Every time I felt like I managed to block it out I had about two seconds of relief before it was back with a fucking vengeance. I wanted to be pissed with her but I just couldn't. Being pissed with her would make me feel better about what had happened to her, but if I'd done something to stop what happened to her then we wouldn't fucking be here, would we? If karma was a real thing then it was sure as hell acting up right now. Still though, what the fuck had my truck ever done to deserve this?

Shit, the answer to that question if just so fucked up. You're not going to believe it. I scowled, glaring out the window and trying to sort through the jumbled mess that was my thoughts. It was just hard to think straight when I lost it like this, something I'd been struggling with ever since the ritual. I knew the benefits to it but right now this situation need me to be fucking calm, not crazy. Infected? Hah, you could say that. I said humorlessly, taking a sharp turn on to a lesser used road that I could speed up even more on. At least my body was still calm, handling the truck with ease. Like it was on auto-pilot. I'm not fucking kidnapping you. Well, yeah I am but it's for your own good. And I'm not some fucking psycho that you need to talk down. I snapped, going over a sharp bump and, reflexively reaching across her to stop her from being jerked around the place. At this speed even the seatbelt could only do so much. Speed limits are there to stop idiots crashing. My reflexes mean that's not really a problem. Shit, I wasn't making anything any cleared. I cleared my throat, taking a second so that when I spoke it sounded more calm. I know you were bitten and I know it was a wolf. I know because I was there.

I've seen more than my share of disturbed things in my time. I bit back, wincing against the pain that was building up behind my eyes. Was this what a migraine felt like? I'd never suffered with them, but this dull, throbbing ache in my head was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It made it difficult to think. Even through the fog of my mind, though, I couldn't help feel annoyed at Peyton's attitude. I'd worked homicide for years - how pathetic did she really think I was? Perhaps it was being so ill, or maybe I'd just had enough, but her attitude was really starting to annoy me.

I gritted my teeth but a high-pitched whine still left my lips when the car jolted, Peyton's hold helping but only up to a point. With the truck going this fast it was difficult not to feel lurched about at every corner of the road and it made me empty stomach begin to cramp and squirm with added nausea. I let out an exasperated grunt at her mention of reflexes, feeling even further irritated, and beyond that, concerned. The way Peyton was coming across definitely seemed psychotic. I can only make judgments from what I can see. And you might think you're infallible, Peyton, but you're really not. Neither of us are, especially not if you crash this truck. I bit out, squeezing my eyes shut when we neared another curve in the road. No matter how expert she thought her reflexes were, trucks and roads like these were only designed with certain speeds in mind, and horrific things could happen even if you did think you were in control. There wouldn't be need to talk anyone down if she killed us both with her wreckless driving.

They popped back open at Peyton's words, the surprise making it harder to suppress the pained whines I was holding back behind my clenched teeth. What? I stared at her as long as I could before I contorted in pain, spasms racking through my body. I hadn't been able to remember the bite occurring - just waking up with the mark on my arm, freshly bandaged and by myself too, with my signature way of neatly tying and folding the fabric. I'd just put two and two together even if I couldn't remember the specific - I'd previous seen a wolf when I was in the woods, and I'd gone back out there a few times to try and catch a glimpse of Sam, so that must have been what happened and the wolf had shown up again. It was remarkable that I was alive, but remarkable wasn't the word I'd use to describe Peyton's claims that she was there too. Why were you there? I broke off to curl in on myself even more, fighting against vocalizing my pain and doing all I could to muffle it. Tears slowly rolled down my cheeks due to the intense pain that failed to let up, but rather worsened with each surge through my nerve endings. You're not making any sense, Peyton can you - c-can you just take me to a hospital, please.

Man her words had me letting out a bark of harsh laughter. She really didn't have a fucking clue. I mean I got that she was a cop and yeah I had no doubt that she’d seen her own share of fucked up things working a job like that. But it all came from a narrowed and human point of view, and that changed everything. How the fuck could I possibly explain what was about to happen to her? She seemed to already be stubbornly convinced that she’d seen the extent of just how fucked up things could get. I was sure that when it came to murders and mutilations that yeah, she probably had the stomach for it. Supernatural shit on the other hand... well that was just totally different.

Look I'm not saying that you haven't seen plenty of messed up shit in your time. I'm just saying that this is on a whole new fucking level. I know I'm explaining it like crap but I need to... I don't know, test the waters. See how you react to the small shit before the big. I took a deep breath, an idea sparking in my mind. Maybe I didn't have to just jump straight into the wolf shit. Did I have time...? I stuck my head out the window, searching the sky and catching a glimpse of the moon rise. I figured I had about a half hour if I was being generous about it, fifteen to twenty minutes if I was being realistic. Nope, I'm not immortal or anything, I can admit that. But infallible is pretty fucking close. If I crashed then yeah, I'd walk away from it. You... I'm not so sure right now but maybe? Close enough that it could work. Okay so there might have been a part of me, the part that loved my truck, that was enjoying this just a little bit.

But I knew it was time to get fucking serious now. The road smoothed out and the truck stopped shaking and jumping, letting me pull some more focus away from driving. I changed gear and pressed down even harder on the gas, at the same time accessing my telepathy and linking to her mind. I winced slightly at the mess of her thoughts, trying not to let guilt shake my control. The memory of my first turn was as horribly vivid as ever so I knew how awful this was for her. There ain't a hospital out there that can do anything for you, Khan. I slowed enough to make the next bend easier on her but picked up speed again immediately after. When I spoke again it wasn't with words but directly into her mind. "I want to explain, okay? I'm supposed to just keep an eye on you until it's time but I couldn't fucking leave it at that. I wanted you to have more warning. So here's your warning." I turned to her, eyess starting to glow bright blue. "Not to go all Morpheus on your ass, but you need to forget about everything you think you know about the world." I checked our surroundings again. We were about ten minutes from the start of the woods now. I'm not human Khan. I spoke those words out loud, feeling ill about what I was about to say next. And soon you won't be one either.