Panic Room... (Paul x OC x Jacob)

Drained

Present Day- Forks, Washington

⁕⁕⁕

«Hello, hello, let me tell you what it's like to be a Zero, Zero

let me tell you what it's like to always feel, feel

Like I'm empty and there's nothing really real, real

I'm looking for a way out»

⁕⁕⁕

"Just tell me where I'm going," I tell Paul, his smirk at finding me still waiting outside getting on my nerves.

"Take a right here," he tells me, pointing when I reach the street, I turn, driving down the street for a while, the more populated area of the reservation falling away to woods. Paul tells me to stop about five minutes later when we reach a house...if you could really call it that. It was barely an upgrade from a shack, the small house decrepit and neglected.

"You lived here?" I asked, trying not to sound rude, Paul scoffs, turning to glare at me.

"We can't all live in castles, some of us have to make up the subjects who grovel at your feet." I've never wanted to punch someone more than I did now, suddenly I didn't feel so bad for hitting him with my car. I almost wished I'd hit him harder.

"I wasn't always a queen..." I mutter, he barely spares me a glance as he gets out of the car.

"Stay here." He tells me, not waiting for a response as he slams the door and walks to the house. I sit there for a while, straining, only to hear nothing from him inside the house. I sigh, rubbing my still aching head, feeling drained from today, and yesterday, and my existence in general. I hear a rumbling somewhere off in the distance. I smell the driver before I see them pull up, the stench of alcohol seeming to roll off him in gut-wrenching waves. I try not to gag, I look over when the truck pulls up next to my Jeep and see a man getting out of it, he doesn't even seem to notice my Jeep as he begins to stagger, drunkenly to the house.

Paul comes out of the house just before the man makes it to the step, he is holding a trash bag filled with what seems to be clothes, when he sees the man who I'm assuming is his father, he drops the bag, seeming to panic. I furrow my brows, and the man looks up at his son, I can't see his expression properly from the angle I'm viewing him, but it makes Paul's face drain of color, and that's all the motivation I need to get out of the car.

I don't close my door, fearing alerting the man of my presence. I begin to creep up behind him, Paul doesn't notice me, being too busy staring at the man yelling drunken slurs at the boy. I come around the side of him, not wanting to get between the two unless things get ugly.

And ugly the got. After only a couple more seconds of Paul not responding to his cursing incoherently at him, the man got even angrier and went to swing at Paul, I ran in between the two, the man's fist colliding with my already-pounding head and sending me reeling back into Paul. His father hitting me seems to break him out of his fear-induced trance, Paul moves me away from the man when he goes to throw another punch, and I end up getting pushed into the wall as Paul takes the hit to his shoulder. My face scrapes against the rough, dry wood of the house when Paul's dad shoves him to the ground, taking me with him.

Paul lands halfway inside and halfway outside the door to the house, hitting his back painfully on the ledge and hit head on the door. He is unable to get up before his father begins advancing so I scramble to my feet, standing in front of Paul, not letting his father go any further. The blood on my face from my cheek is warm as it flows slowly from the wound.

"Oh, look, Paul. You've got yourself a girlfriend." His father says, his words surprisingly un-slurred. He must be sobering up. I hear Paul moving behind me, groaning as he tries to pull himself up. Before the man can do anything else, I begin humming softly, the slightly haunting notes of Hoist the Colors give the man pause, I use my voice to make him back down, calming his raging emotions into a mix that will keep him peaceful for a few moments whilst I'm still singing.

I feel horribly drained as I gesture to Paul with my hand to grab his shit and get into the car, being unable to stop humming if I want to keep him under my spell. Thankfully, Paul takes the hint and scrambles to his feet, quickly grabbing his trash bag making his way to the Jeep, and throwing it into the back. I slowly walk around his dad, the man turning around to keep his eyes on me as I walk away backward to the car and feel around for the handle, still humming, projecting my voice over to him. I don't stop singing until I'm in the car, I slam the door and throw the Jeep into gear, speeding away before the man has time to recover himself.

I drive for a moment before reaching over and turning the music up to an ungodly volume so I won't pass out behind the wheel. Paul looks over at me, probably about to say something about the music, but sees the paleness of my face and the way I was sitting and chooses to keep his mouth shut. When we make it back to Sam and Emily's I don't wait for him to get out, I turn the Jeep off and open my door, almost collapsing when my feet hit the ground, but I catch myself on the car. I half-stagger to their front door and let myself in.

"Ginny, what the hell happened?" Sam asks, worried when he sees me, I try to walk to him but trip over myself, he catches me and slings my arm over his shoulder, helping me walk to the couch and laying me down on it. "Emily, get the blood bags from the basement fridge!" he yells, I see Emily walk into the room from the kitchen, she sees me and runs out, heading to the basement.

Paul walks into the house, seeing me on the couch and Sam crouched over me, he slowly sets the trash bag down. Sam looks up at him.

"Why do I have the feeling you're involved in this?" he asks, gesturing to me.

"Mom? Dad? What's going on?" Luna asks, walking into the room from upstairs, Paul's jaw drops nearly to the floor.

"Holy shit, mom, what happened?" Stella asks, also seeing me on the couch. I smile, tiredly at them.

"Tried to heal and use my powers at the same time. Also, haven't been sleeping properly." I tell the three of them, Emily makes it back into the living room, three blood bags in hand, she glances at me, worried before heading into the kitchen to pour them into a cup.

"Here, drink this," she says when she makes it back, giving me the cup with the blood in it. I smile at her before drinking the liquid, the pounding in my head lessens after I drain the cup's contents and I can focus on the tiredness. I hand the cup back to Emily before leaning back, smiling at my daughters before I hear Sam tell me to sleep, I obey, closing my eyes and almost instantly going under.