Fic: Whever I May Roam

[rock_chicka]

For past chapters check out vam_dependent they all there and easy to find... i promise :D



I could have lost you forever, how the hell could I have been so stupid??? I Love you so much, I just hope you understand that now…

~*~

Courtney awoke slightly groggy and gasping for air. The sun had set below the horizon and she struggled to remember how she was on the floor. Her hand flew to her throat, her fingertips tracing the large bruise that sat just above her voice box.

“BAM” she hollered. Standing, with the aid of the kitchen bench, she looked around the house. After taking several moments to focus her vision, she saw his hair over the top of the couch. Anger bubbled up inside of her. She swayed over to the lounge, her head pounding from a loss of oxygen. Shaking Bam, she swore at him.

“Wake the hell up Bam.” She raised a hand and slapped his face. Her hand stung from the impact and his face bore a handprint. Getting up, she went into the garage and rummaged around in the spare paint tins. Finding what she was after, she went back into the lounge room. Dipping a brush into the paint, she attacked the wall with her words of hatred.

‘Fuck You Bam, Rot In Hell Faggot!!!’

She was panting; everything she had done was wearing her out. There became an evil gleam in her eye and she ran for the bathroom. Digging out the old rusted knife that Bam had hidden down the back of the cupboard, she ran back to the living room. Quietly, she snuck over to where Bam lay unconscious. Making sure he was truly out of it by yelling in his face.

She ran her fingertips down Bam’s soft arm, circling around the soft scars that could be seen. Her hand came to rest on his wrists. Getting the blade, she cut his arm. Deeper and deeper she cut, her evil laugh flickering around the room. His blood was going everywhere as she started to attack his other wrist. She had a thought. If Bam was to survive to see the havoc she had caused, he would need to stop bleeding. She ripped his top off his body and tore it in two. Very crudely, she wrapped the two halves around Bam’s bleeding wrists, and left them to stop the blood. With one last smile, she grabbed Bam’s keys off the side board and drove off down the driveway, almost colliding with several trees here and there.

Bam’s head throbbed, conga drums playing Jamunji in his brain. Slowly, he moved his head, his eyes coming into focus. He could feel pain in his wrists and he lifted his arms to inspect them further. His ran his fingertips over that pieces of cloth and shivered. The wounds seared with pain even with such a light touch. His eyes travelled around the room and caught sight of the words on the wall. The scarlet crimson of the paint looked like blood to Bam, who had only just regained consciousness. Freaking out, Bam stood up and staggered to the door. He looked at the driveway and swore.

“FUCK, the bitch stole my Hummer!!” grumbling, he grabbed a spare set of keys and headed for his second car. The little bomb had trouble starting, but once it had warmed up, it purred along the highway.

--

My door was practically beaten down. I pulled it open to a very distressed looking Bam, who flew into my arms sobbing.

“I… choked her… she… slit… stole… car… death wish…” Bam sobbed into my shoulder.

“Shhh, you’re safe now Bammie, it’s alright.” I cuddled him. I wanted to make him smile again; I hated seeing him so upset. Moving slowly, I walked backwards to the couch, still holding onto Bam, and sat down, pulling Bam down into my lap. Rocking back and forth, I calmed him down. After he had stopped sobbing, I noticed the strips of shirt that remained on Bam’s wrists.

“Bammie, what are these?” I asked him, moving him so I could see them better.

“I… Courtney put them on after she… she.” He had pulled one off and I was greeted with the mass of scabby and bleeding wounds that was Bam’s wrist. It was hot to the touch and pus had started to form around the edges.

“Oh OUCH Bam, how the hell did she manage to do that to you?” He grimaced and I pulled him closer, whispering apologies into his ear. His soft hair tickled my face as I picked him up and carried him to the bathroom.

--

He was so gentle, carefully covering each cut with a clean bandage and antiseptic cream. When he finally pulled away after he had finished I didn’t want him to stop. It was nice to know that he cared enough to make me better, or to at least stop me from getting too sick. I was so scared that she would try to kill me again; I needed him to hold me, tell me it was all alright. He carried me from the bathroom back to the couch. It was as if I couldn’t walk, but I didn’t stop him, I let him carry me, I loved having him hold onto me like I was going to break. He lent down to put me on the couch. I kept my arms wrapped firmly around his neck. Noticing that I wasn’t letting go, he put his hands on my arms.

“Bammie?” He looked into my eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I… don’t go.” I looked at him, pleading with him to stay. I pulled him down on top of me.

“Oh Bam,” He sighed. It was as if he had wanted it for too long. I put my head into his shoulder, letting his arms wrap around me.

~*~

After wanting it for so long, it felt so good to finally have him in my arms. But what could I do, he presented me with an opportunity…