Mine Yours Pt 02

Author's note: This section is shorter than my first part. Reason is that I try to find good spots to put in a "too be continued..." If I had included all the rest I am still working on you would not have anymore to read now would you? I would still be writing it until I get to the next good stopping point. So here is the next chunk. I hope you all enjoy. Please leave me comments or feedback if you have any questions and I will do my best to answer them. To let you all know, by the way, this is my story. Not yours. I would not like to see copies of it roaming around like feral pigeons just waiting for a hawk to swoop down and eat it up and carry it off to its young for a late dinner! Well, that analogy got a little away from me didn't it? So, please respect that it is my story and don't use it for anything else other than reading. I guess you could just memorize it if you wanted...but that would be silly...I would laugh at you.

Sincerely, PB

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Chapter 6: Pride.

I closed the front door, no I didn't slam it! I wanted to, but that would have been rude. Sure, I was upset and they invaded my personal space maybe they even meant well. No, I know they meant well, it was just too much though. I mean, when you get down to it, I am gun shy around people and this was like a big old' bazooka blast to me! How would you feel if in the last few hours you had all of this happen to you huh? You probably would be a little antsy as well, and you're not me! I had no idea what to do, about anything at all. I checked out the windows as I heard noises, I looked and saw Gwen, Hilda, and Jemima arguing at my front gate before leaving. I only caught snippets of what they were saying hearing words like "I told you so." "That was so mean of you." "Poor Greg."

Poor Greg...POOR GREG?

I gritted my teeth, pity, I never get used to pity. Will got it right on the head with that one. I remember walking with him to the Silver Dollar Pizza place near PGE Park. He had a curious expression on his face, and it looked like he wanted to say something to me, but was unsure how I would take it. At the time I was still sick with "I-don't-careitis", because I was an emotional void. Thank you SO MUCH neighbors for letting down my guard with you! I'll deal with that later. We had gotten to the door when Will finally stopped me by tapping me on the elbow.

"Gregory, do you mind if I make an observation?"

I shrugged.

"You know I hate it when you respond with a gesture when I know you have the power of speech."

I smiled a little and gave a half shrug, "I know."

He sighed, "Speech is one of the few things that separate us from the animals, and I am now making friends with a primitive who uses grunts, gestures and monosyllabic verbal responses. Why do I put myself through this?"

I gave a grunt, another shrug and opened the door to the restaurant for him to walk through.

"Maybe Will, it's because I am a curiosity to you, and I open doors for my elders? Or it could be that you feel a sort of pity for me?" I replied.

His eyes snapped to mine, "Not pity Gregory! Never pity. Pity is something you feel for those who are so much lesser than yourself. You are not lesser than me. I feel sympathy, same as I would for any reasoning thinking being." He strode through the door, sat at the bar and ordered a large seafood pizza with shrimp, scallops, and spinach leaves. I sat down next to him, and ordered a Mountain Dew and large combination. As I reached for my wallet, his hand landed on mine stopping me. "My treat Gregory, I wanted to talk to you a bit, and hopefully if you have to wait for food that I paid for I can get past your pride and we can talk. Without you leaving."

I shrugged again, but felt a little nervous. I had only known Will for a week or so now, but I really liked the man...vampire... uh, person? He actually was fun to hang out with, was crazy accurate at throwing darts. He claims it wasn't a vampire thing, but something he picked up when he lived in London proper. I don't believe him, but he still is a fun guy to hang around. I mulled over what I knew of him and decided that I would hear what he had to say. So I waited for him to speak.

He seemed a little nervous, which was surprising to me. Considering his age, and his levels of experience I figured he would be well versed in just about any situation. I was curious as to why he would order a pizza, I figured that with his "Liquid" diet that he couldn't eat food and I said as much to him. "I have been experimenting with many different cocktails and combinations, my friend." He replied. Then reached into his pocket for a small vial, which he then upended into his mouth with a grimace. "Yech! I won't tell you what is in it, but I am sure I finally have formed a compound that will allow me to eat solid food!" My jaw hit the bar!

"You serious!"

"Of course I am serious! Do you think I would take the chance of embarrassing myself in a public place like this if it didn't work? I already had a, what do you call it? A cheeseburger! That's it; a cheeseburger, and I could hold it down just fine. Flavors of the meat seem to be a little off from what I remember when I used to consume meat all the time, but I could TASTE! Over 500 years of searching and experimenting, and I can taste food again." He grinned at me, and then looked seriously at me.

"I still need to talk to you my boy." I shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I talk you listen?" I shrugged again and snickered.

"I worry about you Greg." I faced forward and took a sip of my drink after putting a dip in my lip. "I smelled blood on you yesterday. You also are walking with a limp, not too pronounced, you cover for it well. You want to tell me what happened?" I shrugged.

"Work accident, the tabs on the dumpster caught me when I was linking it to be dumped in the compactor. Banged my hip pretty good." I replied. He nodded, and took a drink of his Dead Guy Ale. Hah! I know right. He is a vampire and what does he drink when he can finally drink and eat food? Dead Guy Ale! You should try it, it's pretty good.

"I see, he responded. I thought the blood I smelled was yours." I nodded. "No problem, Can understand your concern though. Thanks." He took another sip.

"I was actually more concerned for the four other blood types I smelled on you. You don't seem to like violence, and I was worried about your reaction to hurting others." He said quietly.

Yes folks, I got jumped. It happens to people occasionally. More so to people who are like me, those with my label. Not all that often, but enough to make us leery. You see in the beginning of all this I knew an injustice had been done to me, so I began to spread the word. I had a grand idea that I might be able to change how people view sex offenders. That I could show that many of us were falsely accused or situations had been blown out of proportion. Like the two kids that get drunk and they both have sex and the girl claims rape, and the guy didn't even like her or remember having sex. Like that stupid Vegas movie with Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz. Or the father who puts some ointment on his little girls tummy and when the girl is asked if her daddy ever touched her "Down There" she says yes and he ends up in jail. The list goes on.

Many people say they understood my side of the story, but what a person says does not necessarily mean anything. It's the actions that take place. I got into my first altercation shortly after getting out of jail, walking to my car from a Starbucks. Right at the intersection of 185th and Walker Road. Nice little mall there, good Easter sales. That was the first time I had been attacked by a group. I got hit in the back with a tire iron, and turned into a fist that made me see stars, my legs got swept and I was on the asphalt looking up and trying to breathe. It happened fast, no more that fifteen to thirty seconds and the guys ran. I cried from the shock, more than the pain, I couldn't believe anyone would do that to me! What had I done? It was the words that were spoken to me, that clinched the situation in my mind.

"Don't worry Rapo! There's gonna be a lot more of this in your future!"

My trust got locked away that day. It had been steadily pushed more and more into the background after Dawn, and her lies. Now I could see there could be no trust for the world at large, only for those I really knew. Even then, they should be held suspect. The next time I was jumped, I was ready. My sense of justice burned deeply. I caught the arm that was swinging, and dropped, putting my assailant face first into the ground! While there I caught the foot swinging at me, ignoring the pain of the kick and twisted hard putting the other man on the ground. Then I was back on my feet and doing my best to kick them anywhere I could. They got up and ran, yelling how they would get their friends and come back for me, and my family.

So how did my sense of Justice come to get locked away? After my first visit to the police. I explained my situation, and they said all the right words. Their investigation didn't even get past the paperwork I filled out. They even tried to hold me for twenty-four hours for getting into an altercation! It took the security footage from the owner of the Starbucks to show I was acting in my own defense so they let me go with a good bit annoyance.

Nobody gives a damn about an SO.

I realized that justice is pointless, I will never get it. There is no justice in this world and maybe when I get to heaven I can get justice up there for what has happened down here. "Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord" and all that crap. For a while I wanted revenge, I always thought that revenge is just like justice, but with some teeth and better attitude. Wrong, revenge burns hot, and it's like putting racing fuel in your engine. It really gets your motor running, but it also kills the life of your engine. Since I only got one engine, I need to take care of it. I stopped trying to get people to understand the situation with sex offenders. Most don't care, they hear the words Sex Offender and immediately see a rapist, or a pedophile. We are not all rapists and pedophiles; many of us are victims as well. The exact percentage, I don't know, and there is no way to tell. I only know me, and my story. Story...? Crap, Will is talking still!

I glanced over next to me and saw Will patiently waiting. "I was jumped, attacked, and waylaid, whatever you want to call it. I got out of it, a little banged up but I am fine. You know how long the pizza takes to get here?" I asked changing the subject.

"Pride." Will said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" I said after a pause.

"Pride." He said again, with a quiet smile.

"Repeating yourself is not helping me understand better." I returned.

"You carry a great deal of pride in you Gregory Brooks. Wounded pride albeit, but pride none-the-less. I worry that your pride may one day kill you or completely alienate you from those around you."

I shook my head. "Sometimes I do not understand you at all."

"Think about it Gregory. Did you go to the authorities every time you were attacked or just the first one?"

"I don't feel comfortable talking to you about this William."

"I understand, but if you won't talk about this with me, then who will you talk to about it with?"

"I have a court ordered therapist that I go to..."

He scoffed, loudly, interrupting my statement. "Hah! A paid lackey who probably tells all your secrets to the court system so they can find more to charge you with, of course!" I shook my head, "No, I am paying him so he is MY therapist, not the courts!" He smirked.

"Such arrogance, my dear boy. He is not YOUR therapist as you strongly put it. He is on a list that the legal system uses so he get many of his clients from it. In turn he supplies information to the courts so he facilitates their jobs. Oh yes, he is definitely YOUR therapist! There's that pride again."

I opened my mouth to say something snarky, then stopped. William had a point. I am man enough to admit, that maybe I need an outside opinion on things. "Tell me what you wanted to Will."

"You have a tremendous pride in you, borderline on arrogance. It pains you that you needed to go to the police, those you felt betrayed you, to get help on those who attacked you. It also pains you how they reacted to your situation, and all these years later you won't go back. You won't go back to let them know how the attacks have escalated have you?" I shook my head.

"Then what will you do when it gets too much for you to handle?" he asked gently.

"Probably die." I replied.

He froze, being what he is, and he is REALLY good at that. It must be a thing that the supernatural can do that us regular types can't. To hold perfectly still, without moving or twitching. Even after all this time I have never seen one who had cerebral palsy.

"You don't mean that Gregory." He said quietly. "You have no wish to die."

"Some days I have no wish to live either so what are my options?" I responded.

"Look Will, I am surprised I have lived this long. I am 33 years old, and I hope to make it to 40. I don't know if I will. Either those vigilantes who believe they are doing good work by beating and possibly killing SO's out there will get me..." I paused, taking a breath and for the first time in a while I opened myself up to someone.

"Or maybe I will just get tired of having a label I didn't deserve branded into my forehead. There are times when I wonder if it will just make things easier for my family if I just ate some rat poison, or ate a bullet, or slit my wrist. I wish I had lost my right arm over what has happened to me. Then I could have some sense of honor! What's the point of honor, and living a good life if it can be taken away so quickly when I didn't do anything? I know honor is a self -thing and only I can take it away from myself, but walk a mile in my shoes and see what it feels like. You have known me for how long now, and...and...(cough)...I need a drink... Sorry."

A person can only go so long without opening up to anybody. We are social creatures and the need to unburden ourselves sometimes is tantamount to survival. It may have been stupid of me to open myself up like that to someone who I had known for only a short amount of time, but it felt good. Besides, every man needs to be a little stupid sometimes. It's one of our best features.

William didn't look at me, and accepted his pizza, mine came about the same time, and we began to eat. I kept sneaking glances at him. Firstly because I had just done something similar to letting him see me naked. Being exposed always has risks. Secondly, he was eating pizza! William also did not seem to like it, as for that, though, he finished the whole thing. I had the rest of mine packaged up and took it with me. As we were getting ready to walk outside were I was headed to work, he stopped me and gave me a quick man hug. You know, the quick embrace with a couple of stiff whacks on the back.

"Stay strong Greg. You are a good man, if you ever need anything, give me a call." He said somberly. I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Can I use your washer and dryer sometimes?" He guffawed.

"Anytime, night or day, even if I am asleep come on over."

Anytime, night or day. Going to need to call my friend and ask him some questions.

I watched as my three neighbors left my front yard, still talking quietly to themselves. Why did I send them away? Sure they were getting too close too fast, and yes, it felt good to have friends... It was what I didn't know. Sure, I have secrets, but my secrets don't cause a succubus to appear at a Halloween party that tries to kill everyone there! I have to find out what is going on, especially now that I have a spooky hit man, or hit woman...hit-succubus that wants to kill me, with prejudice. Which brings me to my next thought, how DID I actually fight back? Geez. I need sleep in the worst way. So I did what anyone else would do in that situation. Go to bed and sleep. I would visit William tomorrow.

Chapter 7: Gatewatch

Later on that day, about 2pm in the early afternoon I woke up feeling better than I had in a long time. Dreamless sleep does wonders for the healing body. I went down to my gym, and grimaced. It felt tainted now, I guess is the best way to put it, other people have seen it, and now it is no longer a secret. That's probably why I felt that I was being watched the entire time I was down there. I started by running in place; fast steps, for 30 seconds then light jogging for five, then back to fast. I alternated doing this for about a half hour, and then moved to the bags. Yes, I have martial arts experience; no I am not a ninja...or anything for that matter. I got a few years of tae kwon do, and a few years of ju-jitsu, and my whole life of the school of hard-knocks. That last dojo there is a harsh teacher I tell you what.

Finishing up with basic combinations, I then began weight training, not sure how much my weights are, never bothered to weigh them. Most of my work is isometric, pressing against immovable objects, and my own strength used against me. This is followed up by countless curls, stretches, lifts and drops with my free weights. Free weights meaning cinderblocks and chunks of metal with hand holds. No expense spared on my gym. I cooled down by following some basic fighting forms I had worked out myself, then figured it was time to get cleaned up.

I got up and walked out to my backyard, noticing that my fruit trees were going to need to be cleaned up before winter really set in. Better to do it now, so I don't have to worry about them later. Amazing the amount of fruit you can get off of a tree when it is trimmed back and fertilized. I grabbed the camp shower I had sitting out on the back porch to get warm in the sun, then stepped back into the house and stood in the bathtub hanging the bag on the hook in the ceiling. Yes I actually have water, just no water heater, and it's easier to shower this way than getting a new water heater. Also less expensive, have you looked up how much a hot water heater costs? I finished my shower, refilled the bag from the rain barrel under my house gutter and laid it back on the porch. I grabbed some dirty clothes and hopped into my beat up little Toyota truck and took off to see my friend Will.

As I said, he lives in the Pearl district of Portland, so he has money. He has enough money to have a garage, which I pulled into. I would love to say he has a mansion or some such, but he doesn't, just a nice modest house with no windows on the bottom floor. Once you get inside you see how things, are clean, neat, of good quality, modest and...you get it? The guy is loaded, but likes things to be simple. I always expected vampires to be like in the movies in grand houses with long sweeping staircases, and chandeliers and decadence. Maybe keeping an extra staircase over against the wall so he can practice his sweeping entrances for blushing virgin college girls! Well, no, he can put on those airs but he seems to like his basic suits, and his basic house and a kitchen where he can practice cooking.

I think he still eats, but after he found that his taste buds have all changed around after being turned he is now trying to find food that tastes good. Cheeseburgers are good, seafood pizza not good. I could have told him that! I walked into his kitchen with my load of laundry as he was basting a rack of lamb.

"Gregory, how good of you to stop by! Happy belated Halloween!" He said effusively, yet not taking his eyes from his work.

"William, still practicing what constitutes a good meal? Having difficulty using the stove, or have you solved that problem?" I replied.

"When one no longer needs to cook and the last implement used was an open fire to cook with, the intricacies of the kitchen stove are perplexing. Though I have to admit, this woman who wrote this book...Betty Crocker, I believe she is called. This has helped me immensely!" He finished his basting and grinned, a hint of fang showing. I swear he was salivating!