Bad Ideas - Sierra Aguirre-Stoker and Shane Barrett

"This su..."
"Don't say it." Shay grumbles, curled in on himself in the corner of the cabin.
"Right." Sierra tugs the oversized sweatshirt sleeves down over her hands and clenches her fists in them so she's not tempted to scratch at the pinprick marks on her wrists.
She doesn't regret it. They had a cover to maintain. Getting the information they needed to take down the people behind an underground vamp-fighting ring was worth it.
That doesn't mean they're not both paying the price.
And maybe it's only fair that if Shay has to fight through blood withdrawals out here, she has to handle the bite version.
She's chilled from the blood loss, but the vampire saliva in her blood is burning like a fever. She wants more, she needs that fiery high. She's heard that vamp venom makes most people feel blissed out and docile, but however it mixed with the adrenaline from the escape made her feel kind of like the world was slowing down and moving at a different pace. It felt good.
Now, it feels anything but.
Shay makes a muffled sound from the other side of the room, and Sierra turns to see him with his face buried in a pillow.
"You okay?"
"Wh-oo-nk?"
She doesn't need to hear the words to catch his meaning from his incredulous expression. "Sorry, stupid question."
That seems to be the core of whatever it is they are. Stupid questions, questionable decisions, and messy aftermath.
She takes a step toward the window and then stumbles, catching herself on the back of a chair. The dizziness is kicking in in earnest.
"Need the bed?" Shay asks. Apparently whatever urge to bite possessed him is gone, because he doesn't sound like there's a pillow in his mouth.
"No, you will in a minute."
This might be Sierra's first time dealing with a bite, but it's far from Shay's first experience of withdrawals. They'd discussed what he'd be likely to start feeling on the way out. And if he's right about timing, he's about to get hit with the worst of it. Which is going to be a serious problem. She needs synth-blood for him. Which they don't have.
Once she kicks her own withdrawals enough to drive safely, she can get somewhere with a signal and call for extraction. Pete's got to be worried sick, and he's probably already combing the Oregon wilderness for them. But until she feels like she's not going to swerve their stolen jeep into the nearest tree, they're stuck.
"Then share." Shay pats the edge of the bed. "I've been sitting on it for an hour and it hasn't fallen apart. Can't say the same for that chair."
Sierra looks down. She doesn't see anything wrong with the wicker-seated furniture, but Shay's hearing is dialed in well above hers. Any minor creak in the structure, and he'll know.
"I don't think that's a good idea." He wants blood, she wants a bite. That close, they'll drive each other crazy.
"Nothing about us is ever a good idea."
Sometimes she hates how perceptive and honest he is. She had to get partnered with an infuriatingly emotionally intelligent vampire who can also be as dumb as a rock.
"Fine. I guess if you bite me you can drive us to someplace with a signal."
"That's the spirit." Shay smiles, a weak imitation of his usual one, which tells her how much pain he's already in, but he's trying. "Not that that's what I'm going to do."
She wouldn't hate it. In fact, she'd appreciate it. But it would only be putting off the inevitable.
She sits down on the edge of the bed, hands clenched white-knuckled around the edge of the mattress, her pinky finger brushing up against his.
Sooner rather than later, he's going to get worse. But for now, she can offer this much. At least they can be miserable together.