Chapter 18: Born to Die – Lana Del Ray

A/N: Thanks to Mrskroy, rachel olsen-williams, and every single reader following along.

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

- Lana Del Ray, Born to Die

"I want to go with Thalia. When she leaves with Pam, I want to go with her."

I stated apathetically – if not a bit coldly – turning from the rain-soaked anti-UV, exposure-proof window to look at Ezra and Eric, praying that my mask of indifference would hold firm despite my untamed and turbulent feelings.

Thank God I'd mastered my poker face years ago.

Because I really needed it right now.

Off-handedly, I wondered just how many things in my life had been a lie. My life as the Hardings' daughter? Obviously, and strike one. My belief I was human? Unabashedly, strike two – which had only left me with more questions than answers.

Had there been a strike three?

Sort of…

Succumbing to the easy depression creeping like a rolling fog over my shoulder, I admitted to myself that it had unequivocally been… everything. Every single thing I'd ever thought I'd known had pretty much turned out to have been a lie. Hell, Ezra probably hadn't ever really been my friend; like the throttling fairy man had said, "He wants to possess you, control you."

Those venomously-spit words had maybe turned out to have been too true.

Should I have expected anything else from him?

"The Trials…"

Eric stammered uncharacteristically, inadvertently interrupting my inner turmoil as a flash of white hot lightning crossed the sky – his expression stunned and gaping like a wide-mouthed fish.

'It is as if she read my mind.'

His thoughts burned a cavernous, searing hole into my suddenly guilty, and nervous, conscience.

Because, of course, I had read his mind.

"The what now?"

I managed to respond coolly, as my fingertip painted lazy, concentric circles across the window pane glass – in spite of the frenzied butterflies thrashing about in my stomach.

My most secret secret maybe wasn't as well-hidden as I'd assumed.

Whoopsie-doodle – otherwise known as super FUCK!

"Every vampire must complete the Trials before they reach one hundred years."

Ezra interjected smoothly, rising from his seat on the couch to stand next to my sojourn by the window – not so close to be touching, but enough to make his presence known, albeit cautiously.

His brown eyes were unfocused and full of sorrow as he pretended to stare out the tempered pane at the ongoing thunderstorm – his thoughts uncharacteristically blank.

Maybe he really does feel bad.

I couldn't help but think to myself, traitorously – although I refused to allow myself to believe it.

"It is a series of tests, to put it mildly. A battle royale of sorts intended to confirm that the recently-turned vampire can indeed survive, and is deserving of the gift they have been given. Those who fail the Trials… they are culled – delivered what is termed the True Death – immediately and without mercy or measure. Your br… Eric believes that, under Thalia's tutelage, you will be readied to face them when they commence this winter, before you have even been turned vampire for a year. It is quite unheard of to send a progeny while she is still so young, not that age provides any guarantee. Even Eric lost his first son there, and he was aged just shy of ninety years…"

Eric had made another vampire prior to Pam? That was certainly news to me.

But so was everything lately, I thought morosely.

'She is more vampire than Thad ever was. I have no doubts she will pass the Trials with ease.'

Eric's thoughts overrode my own curious and confused ones, instilling within me a likely-fleeting measure of self-confidence I'd rarely, if ever, possessed before.

The guy who'd declined to turn me believed in me, while the one who did it didn't.

One hundred percent, unarguably, and undeniably weird.

"Okay, I want to do that then."

The word vomit spilled from my mouth like truly noxious, foul upchuck.

Apparently, sometimes I even grossed myself out.

But I couldn't just take a defining-moment statement like that back; could I? Hell, that wasn't even what was important right now. The question I really had to muse on was, should I?

Take it back or join the Trials?

I wasn't sure.

"I want to prove, once and for all," my eyes flicking left to catch Ezra's – full-on eye contact, something he knew I was usually uncomfortable with – "I don't need to be babied anymore."

Except maybe I wanted that, a little bit still…

But, as Henry always said… in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Trials? No."

Thalia barked dismissively, laughing heartily as her smile widened further than I'd ever imagined possible, mirth rich and wild in her tone as she slapped her thigh in kind.

I'd relayed the nights' earlier conversation to the little Greek vampire after she'd returned to the house with Pam, both wet as used mops. Pam had paid me no mind, instantly retreating to one of the guest rooms before a word could be spoken – stomping all the way to outwardly display her inward anger. Huf-fy. Eric had ghosted along the carpeted, shoe-printed path left in her wake – disappearing into their shared room – without even so much as a glance backwards.

Ezra expediently took his exit as well, indicating a need for sleep by way of a fabricated yawn.

Suddenly, I'd become almost everyone's least favorite fairy-vampire in the world.

"Dumb, foolish; stop dumb."

Thalia continued expressively – sounding almost contrite despite her choppy delivery – as she blurred instantly before me, towering over me despite her small stature as I sat on Jax's plush beige couch.

"I just wanted…"

I started defensively – if not also a bit timidly, breaking eye contact and shifting uncomfortably – prepared to repeat what I'd said to Ezra about proving myself capable, before Thalia interrupted me.

"Stop dumb. Northman need safe," different day, same tune, "Thalia train. Learn. But no dumb. No dead."

"But, if I learn, maybe I'll be ready…"

I asserted emotionally, feeling nowhere near as confident as my tone might have otherwise indicated, straightening my shoulders and posture in a physical effort to feign unerring resolve.

"Stop! Think. No dumb! No dead!"

Thalia hissed at me angrily – brown eyes flashing red – before she turned around and disappeared down the hallway; her exit leaving me with more uncertainties and insecurities than answers.

Ugh… open mouth, insert foot.

The story of my undead, but not quite undead life.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Sleep alluded me; dreams transmogrifying into nightmares.

So, as usual, I woke up earlier then I meant to.

"When did you get back, Jax?"

I asked curiously from the jamb – sleep still heavy in my body, deepening my voice – as the midday sun filtered through the windows and cast shadows about the room and my squinting countenance.

"Couple a' hours ago, kid."

Jax responded smiling, beckoning me with a wave of his hand, as he lifted from his seated position to move to the refrigerator, pulling out my pitcher of blood before my tummy could even rumble.

He was the best brother I'd never had.

One of my few bright spots.

Slipping into our well-orchestrated dance, he and I moved about one another. Me grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing it in front of him seconds before he poured my breakfast-lunch-dinner. Him slipping the glass into the microwave while I popped the red-soaked vessel back into the fridge.

The normalcy of the moment comforted me.

Ding! Time to eat.

I fingered the rim of my piping hot coffee mug of crimson plasma in hand as I sat down on the kitchen bar stool before bringing the cup to my lip.

I sipped the contents, instead of gulping as my hunger demanded, acutely aware that my friend couldn't stomach me outright drinking blood. I respected Jax, especially after everything he'd done for me. Hell, he'd even taken me into his home when I'd been too worried about rejoining Ezra in his!

He'd made so many concessions for me, and even my sometimes-gross vampiric lifestyle.

The least I could in return was to try and protect his gag reflex.

My compatriot – my veritable partner-in-crime – remained unnervingly quiet, sipping silently from his own steaming cup of something slightly noxious and sour, while waiting for me to elaborate further.

But I didn't; I felt like I couldn't.

The book of Henry had preached endlessly about the necessity of secrets.

While I'd tried to move past my upbringing – to shake it – it still followed me like a stalker, reminding me enough of my adopted mother and father's teachings had had merit. That in most things, despite the obvious mental and emotional abuse, Paige and Henry had been right. More often than not, it was best to hide what people could exploit, what they could hold against you – or use for their own gain.

Even though I knew – I knew – that Jax would never work against me like that, I still hid from him.

Instinctually, I hated that about myself.

"Did y'all talk?"

Jax queried lightly, taking the spot next to me at the granite bar top and bumping me lightly with his shoulder to grab my obviously-elsewhere attention, before he sipped his own beverage.

"Yeah," I answered sadly – simply the notion of the Trials suddenly weighing heavy on my mind, "we did, but I dunno if we really resolved anything."

Instead of airing grievances, it felt like I'd pretty much signed my death warrant instead.

I doubt that'd been the outcome Jax'd been hoping for.

"C'mon, kid; give me more than that."

He never accepted my cagey responses.

I love him for that – and I was finally tired of hating myself for giving them.

So, not without a degree of effort, I forced myself to be open, and I told him – everything. Well, not everything, but most of what he'd missed yesterday, including what'd happened before he left to take Alcide to the hotel in Dallas. I shared about the fairies, the kiss, the Trials; all of it.

At the end of it, I felt lighter.

But also, heavier.

"I don't know what else to do."

I admitted reluctantly, averting my gaze from his to glance down into my now-empty, cold mug – the weighty pit in my belly distinctly having nothing to do with hunger.

"Kid, I don't want you to take this the wrong way…"

Jax led in purposely, pausing briefly like he expected me to interrupt him or something.

I stayed completely silent, almost too eager to hear his dissent.

"But, why do feel like you have to do everything right now? You literally have a freaking eternity to figure this shit out. Why now?"

That took the veritable wind right out of my sails.

Why now, indeed.

Why right now?

Why freaking right now?

My own musings wrung through my head as I ghosted through the afternoon like an automaton hellbent on a mindless cleaning frenzy. Laundry was in the dryer. The carpets had been vacuumed. And the dust bunnies hiding in previously forgotten corners had been obliterated into nothingness.

I almost felt bad for them – the dust bunnies – as I methodically destroyed them.

They hadn't done anything but exist.

Jax kept his distance, knowing I needed to sort things out for myself – get my world turned right-side up. He busied himself with household chores that had been cast aside in preparation for my birthday party. Outdoors – away from my whirlwind of bleach and dust cloths – he opted to harvest our garden of vegetables before bringing them into the kitchen to be rinsed, including many matured bulbs of garlic.

Giving zero regard to how it might affect the vampires sleeping in our house.

Although, maybe allergies of the garlic variety weren't actually a thing…

Sighing loudly, unable to stifle my growing frustration that I didn't even know what all I didn't know, I dropped the multi-surfaced cleaner and cloth I'd been holding. I barely – barely – resisted the urge to stamp my feet like fussy toddler. Instead, I let them propel me outside, my nerves and muscles – my anxiety-filled mind – smarting and screaming with the need to run far, far away.

It'd been at least forty-eight hours since I'd disappeared into the landscape.

Much too long.

"Gotta burn off some energy!"

I yelled in Jax's general direction as I took off into a sprint – grateful I'd opted for exercise-wear today – refusing to look back and witness the confusion I was sure painted his countenance.

And so, I ran – far and fast.

Directionless, as I tried to clear my head.

Shaking off the heavy, wet blanket of depression threatening to smother me, I focused on the rhythmic thump-thump of my sneakers slapping against the sun-dried terrain. I ran until my legs burned for oxygen my body barely needed, until my sluggishly beating heart quickened to an almost human pace, until all thoughts figuratively seeped out of my ears. Finally, I felt a peace usually only available to me while asleep – meditative, blank – like polished slate waiting eagerly for chalk.

Why now?

Because… well…. if not now, then when?

My mind's voice challenged me sharply – as I pivoted like a dancer on the ball of my foot to race back home – shaking off Henry's voice in my head chiding me for embracing the unknown over the known.

Hell, even if it's a mistake, does it really matter?

Of course not! Like Jax said, I have a freaking eternity to figure this shit out.

At least, that's what I'd told myself.

And boy, wasn't I just all kinds of fucking wrong.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Blinding pain coursed through me, licking hotly at electrified nerves as it snaked down each knob of my spine and continued an immutable path towards my knees, which buckled upon impact – throwing me to the ground, and also into a formless heap. The jingle of a ring-tone barely reached my consciousness as my head swam with darkness, my vision simultaneously reducing to black and peppered spots, each rapidly growing in size until the world turned dark.

And cold.

Suddenly, I felt oh, so very cold.

"Say she fine."

Clipped and distant, the harsh tone still registered to my cotton-filling ears.

"But Thalia, she's not…"

The other, more high-pitched voice – Pam, I think – protested fervently, the chiming tone unrelenting as I registered her nails clicking what had to be nervously against the phone's plastic covering.

Was Pam really shaking?

Fuck, this had to be bad.

"Do as say, Northman child! She fine. No word other fine!"

So – I thought sarcastically.

Apparently, we were all going to call whatever this was… fine.

AN: The end of Born to Die is bittersweet for me, and tough emotionally. I love this fic and I intend to continue Addy, Ezra, and Eric's story in my next, upcoming sequel "Born this way".