Packing
Title: Packing.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ever so slight Annie/Mitchell; Nina/George
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 500ish
Summary: They had avoided it as long as possible, but after two days camped out in a motel, hearts breaking, they went back to the pink house.
Notes: Pre-season three. Spoilers for first two seasons.
Packing.
They had avoided it as long as possible, but Mitchell's clothes were still covered in blood and George couldn't stand the thought of wearing he same underwear three days in a row. So after two days camped out in a motel, hearts breaking, they went back to the pink house.
There were no discussions of debates; the furniture would stay with the house. They moved silently, shoving clothes and things they really couldn’t do without into duffle bags. Nina moved quickly through her and George’s shared room, shoving clothes into bags and carefully stepping around the mugs strewn across the room, most still half full of cold tea. George would pause, his eyes sticking on one before Nina cleared her throat and he would continue packing. Nina felt like she was drowning in guilt as she tucked her last shirt into her bag, the zipper closing with a whisper of finality. They wouldn’t be creeping around the once-haunted house if it weren’t for her. If she hadn’t been dazzled with the chance of a cure, Annie would still be here and the house would be home.
George finally zipped his last backpack closed and straightened, fiddling with his glasses before nodding at Nina. They gathered their assorted bags and piled them into the hallway. They wouldn’t need to come back here again. Nina took his hand in hers, giving him a watery smile as they closed their bedroom door for the final time. George tugged on her hand lightly and they stepped over their things and went to go check on Mitchell.
Everything was quiet. The house was silent as George and Nina ghosted down the small hallway to Mitchell’s room. The house was dead without its ghost. The pipes stopped creaking, the kitchen was silent and there was a feeling of unease, coating every surface.
Mitchell’s room was, for the first time, neat. The bed was made, the floor was visible and on the dresser sat a collection of tea mugs, all loving placed together. Mitchell, however, was nowhere to be found. Nina frowned, and was a heartbeat away from looking under the bed for him when George led her away from the room, back into the hallway and up a few stairs to another door. Annie’s room’s door.
George pushed it open and it swung in, revealing Mitchell, sat cross-legged in front of Annie’s chair looking as though he was waiting for her to pop back into place. Three duffle bags were abandoned just inside the door. Nina leaned against the door frame as George went to join Mitchell on the floor, watching Annie’s floral print armchair. She noticed a cluster of tea mugs sitting beside it and swallowed hard.
George decided not to say anything about the kettle Mitchell was holding on his lap, nor about the tear tracking down his face. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath and watched the armchair, sharing the grief his vampire flatmate was wallowing in. George said his last goodbye to Annie quietly, hearing Mitchell doing the same. Nina sniffled quietly from behind them.
Eventually Mitchell stood, placing the kettle on the seat of Annie’s armchair. His fingers lingered for just a second before he turned on his heel sharply and stormed out of the room, snatching his bags up as he went. Nina shifted from her spot to let him pass, pressing herself against the wooden door as she waited for George.
He let out an inaudible sigh and picked himself up off the floor slowly. George took Nina’s hand and followed Mitchell out of the room, the door clicking shut quietly behind them. They paused in the hallway, gathering up all their filled bags before following Mitchell down the stairs, their eyes lingering on the crack in the tile by the stairs and the wooden cabinet that, for a brief moment, had been Annie’s Door.
They stood on the doorstep, latching the front door behind them. George reached up with shaking hands and slid the key into place, the thunk of the lock echoing down the street.
It looked empty. It looked like the proper haunted house the previous tenants had thought it was.
Mitchell, George and Nina piled into the black car and without a word Mitchell drove them away from the pink house that had once been home.