I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen Cole cry. Had I ever? It was a foreign feeling, I knew we'd had some pretty heated fights in the past, when we were younger, but I'd never felt like he needed me, not like this. Cole had always been such an independant man, someone who lead and never followed. At least this was how I perceived him to be, he was my rock, when I fell apart he put me together again, this was the routine we'd lived by for a long time. This moment, for the first time I felt like I was sitting here with all the little pieces of Cole slipping through my fingers, some pieces so jagged they cut through the skin like razor blades, others so gentle they brushed and caressed every nerve. Was I actually falling more in love with him? It was in some small way deeply unsettling, but nothing real ever makes total sense, perfectly decent people suddenly fly off the handle and kill their families, children were often wielders of death themselves...were they not unconditionally loved by someone? I was the last man to ever say life was black and white, but this was so far from a grey area, I couldn't even begin to define it.

I stare quietly at Cole, my heart finally beginning to slow down, my mind clearing with it. I held his knee gently, but with intention. I wasn't letting him go, I needed him to know...I needed him to feel that. After a moment his hand moves away, I don't notice but my brows furrow into a frown of concern as he does so, his eyes downcast. I wasn't sure what was going on in his head, I hardly ever did. When he finally looks up at me, I see those jagged pieces looking back at me again, and my heart beats just a little faster. His words do not surprise me, but it is not for him to accept, it is mine. He may not see it in himself, but he doesn't have to, because I will show him. I will pull it from him with bloody fists if I have to, but he will damn well see it.

His growl causes me to lean back a bit, not necessarily out of fear, but I needed space from him when he acted like that, it was more instinctive than emotional. He moved quickly, grabbing my hand and moving closer towards me, I did not fight back, I held his hand with my fingers, holding him too me as he held me to him. His words felt desperate, and I found myself hardly breathing as he pulled me close to him. "I know, I know." I spoke back to him, softly, my voice a whisper as was his, though mine trembled still with the threat of tears. I was not made for so much in one night. "I didn't really think you'd hurt me...." The words dropped from my lips, and as I listened to them, I felt no pull of denial in my heart, I believed them.

I watched him wipe his tears away, and it briefly reminded me I could hardly see straight myself. Blinking roughly, I looked up and took in a deep breath, the cool night air felt too real in this moment, it stung the back of my throat and nearly made me cough. Looking back at Cole, I shook my head gently. "You can't blame me for freaking out." In all fairness I was taking this probably way more rationally than a rational person ought to. I leaned forward and wrapped my right hand around his little beard and coiled my fingers in it. "You can't keep me safe from everything. If there's vampires and werewolves in the darkness, well...I'd make a pretty sexy Vampire." I laughed softly, my voice breaking a bit with an inhaled sob. I hadn't really accepted the story of mythical creatures, but he didn't need to know that. A part of me was still terrified he was delusional, but denying him now wouldn't help either of us.

"Show me." I realized there was still a chance the girl was alive, if she was...then maybe I could talk him into turning himself in, pleading insanity...or if she was dead, then it could wait...I'd get him home, safe...then I'd call the police. They wouldn't hurt him, they'd get him help...they couldn't lock a man away for seeing Vampires. I stood up slowly, my legs aching. I held my hand down to him and spoke gently. "I need to see her..."