~~Jack~~
Thank god. Thank. Fucking. God.
He breathed in the smell of her, and chuckled between his sobs. She was undead, like him, but he could still smell a bit of her, the old her, the living her, the person he grew up with, the person who raised him. Memories crashed into him, him sitting on the couch with her watching movies, waiting at the table while she cooked, reading a book on the couch while she decorated the Christmas tree with Mary. Her. It was her.
"Mom," he said, his eyes buried in her neck. When was the last time he did this, hugged her while he cried? When Dad died, just once. After that, he'd drawn into himself, and hugging became a thing of the past. So many years, so many fucking years, he'd built up those walls, kept himself safe from feeling anything, especially where family was concerned.
Waking up to see her eyes blinking down at him, shattered those walls.
"Jack! Oh god, Jack."
They hugged each other for a good couple minutes. It wasn't until Antoinette shifted her legs a bit that Jack remembered she was there.
"M-Mom... I... how much—"
"She knows nothing, my little Ventrue." The Prince reached out, and pat his shoulder, drawing his head out of the neck of his mother. "And, while I loath to end this moment, we should explain to Samantha the realities of the situation."
The situation. Oh fucking god, the situation. Jack pushed away, slowly, gently, and had to fight against his mother's squeezing arms a bit to do so. But after he tapped her on the shoulder a few times, she released him, and he smiled at her as he forced himself to stand.
"You were dead!" His mother jumped up with him, and set a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it as if he was a ghost.
"Sort of? I know I disappeared two years ago, and—"
"No, Jack, just now. You were dead! There was a... a stick in your chest."
Jack raised a brow, and looked down at the floor, then to Antoinette. A wooden stake was in her hand.
The realities of the situation, she'd said. In that moment, he thought she meant purely about telling his mom about her new life as a vampire; and she probably did also mean that. But she also meant a private conversation had to happen, about what he did.
The soft, heavenly, simple memories of his first life, when he was young, living with his mother, disappeared under murky waters. The hard, cruel, complex memories of his second life sucker punched him, and he grimaced as he looked at Antoinette. Julias, dead. Angela and Elen escaped, once again, for the last fucking time. Sándor was captured, and Antoinette probably had him locked up.
All of that faded into background noise, as he dug through the chaos of the event, and found the horrendous truth buried within. Something inside him had summoned an army of crows, and had slaughtered several hunters. Something inside him, something twisted and fucked up, had practically danced upon the blood and corpses. Something inside him, lurking beneath the surface, had lost its grip on Jack when he saw his mom in bed, and disappeared into him. It was still there.
And Antoinette knew it hadn't been him. She knew it, Damien knew it, and to be careful, they staked him. Ouch.
"I..." He looked at Antoinette, and waited. This whole situation was paralyzing, and he didn't know where to begin.
"Samantha, you have been brought into our world at a rather chaotic time. I can only offer my deepest apologies for how expedient we must be, but I cannot ease you into this." The Prince met their gazes, steady, strong, a pillar for Samantha to rely on. "Two years ago, Jack was stabbed and killed by an enemy of his friend Julias Mire. Julias resurrected him, in the same way... that I have resurrected you."
"Res... surrected?" Mom said.
Nodding, Jack winced as he looked down, and noticed his mom was still wearing her hospital gown under the robe. "Yeah. Look at me, Mom. Look at her. Pale as fuck, and... well, check yourself for a pulse." It was how it sank in for him, seeing himself in the mirror, and then checking for a pulse. Something about seeing the difference of yourself, and the lack of a heartbeat, shattered any willful ignorance.
His mom did just that. She blinked at him as she felt her wrist, then her other wrist, then her neck, and then her chest. "I... I don't... have a pulse."
"None of us do," Jack said. "I—" He stopped, and looked to his love. "Sorry, I'm sort of just taking over the conversation."
"It is understandable. I am a stranger to her, while Julias was... was not a stranger to you." The weight of her voice hit him, and his head lowered again.
His mom, fighting through her dry sobs, set a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. "Julias is dead? I remember him, and... he... he was a business man, wasn't he?"
"He was a vampire, Mom. We... we all are."
The grip she had on his shoulder loosened, and she started to sway. He caught her, kept her standing, and offered a weak smile as he pat her on the shoulder. Ok, that was a bit much for her, but like Antoinette said, no time to ease her into this.
"Vampires? You mean... like... T-Twilight?"
He groaned, so did Antoinette, until he couldn't help but laugh. "No, not like Twilight. More like Dracula."
"That movie with Gary Oldman and Keanu Reeves?"
"Yep." Close enough. Nodding, he helped guide his mom toward the door, following after Antoinette once she started to leave. Keep talking, explain things to her, it was better than thinking about Julias, or letting her think about Mary. "Well, I meant the book, but, yeah. We're vampires. That's what happened to me. Another vampire who hated Julias tried to kill me, and Julias had to turn me, so that I didn't permanently die. It all happened so fast, that... that I had to disappear."
"So you've been... like this, for two years? Alive, or... or... whatever you are now?"
"Yep."
"But... but... you could have told me! You could have come back, told your mother you were still alive!" She wasn't getting it. He was just saying words to her, and they weren't sinking in. Vampire was a little too fantasy for her to accept, while seeing her son still alive was something her mind could latch onto.
"He could not," Antoinette said. "It is a secret society, Samantha Terry. Your son was pulled into a hidden world, with no say in the matter."
Samantha's head fell, and she dragged a little behind, trying to process everything happening to her. It was a lot to wake up to.