Guide My Steps - A Zak Bagans Story

Porcelain Forlorn

A/N: Between a few hours of sleep and a blistering headache, excuse anything that seems a bit off or incoherent. I'll come back and review everything before I post it, but if I've missed something, let me know and I'll get to it asap! Thank you for reading, have an angsty song that reminds me of Bagans!

Another note, I am playing a bit with Aaron's past. If the information such as names, etc... is false, I've changed them for a reason. Remember, it's just a story!

"The failures of my past just swirl beneath. I need a heart that carries on through the pain, when the walls start collapsing again. Give me a soul that never ceases to follow, despite the infection within..." - Deteriorate by Demon Hunter

*

I've done a lot of shitty things in my life, and I'm sure to do more in the future. It's inevitable, but hearing Jeff's words... It hit me like a tsunami; emotions of all sorts crashed into me, and my lungs felt as if they were being ripped to shreds. They burned and heaved and I struggled to breathe. Bagans had gone silent after a rage fit that lasted long enough for the entire crew to come pouring in, wondering if there was some sort of trouble. Or perhaps...they had gotten the call, too.

Immediately, Nick, Jay and Billy dragged Bagans out of my room while he was sputtering. He didn't go willingly, he fought against them, overwhelmed with betrayal and hurt. They must've gotten similar calls for sure then. Good. It was better that they sorted him out before things got ugly. That man had a temper that always got him in trouble, and that was certain. The bathroom door had been slammed in the process of escorting the lead investigator out, and I was left alone while my own subconscious tore me apart.

You should have known all along, fool.

He only went after you because he saw the opportunity.

It was all a scheme to get more publicity on his behalf, and in the process, shame your existence in hopes you would leave him alone for good.

There was a soft knock. Knuckles barely brushed the wood to even make a sound loud enough to register.

"Y-yeah?" I called out.

The door opened an inch or two. "Hey, Em. It's Aaron." I let out a sigh of relief. "Mind if I come in?"

I hummed my answer, and he came in cautiously, avoiding the shattered screen bits on the floor. I must have looked awful from my position on the floor, face resting on the cold, white porcelain of the toilet seat, but he didn't say anything about my porcelain forlorn. He just set a hesitant hand on my shoulder, and held his other out. Handing him the rag that I held, I brushed my hair over my shoulder and watched him warily as he went to the sink to rinse the rag.

"So I assume you got the news?" He asked, wringing out the rag. I nodded, my head still resting on the porcelain. I wasn't chancing missing the bowl if my stomach decided to eject its contents again. What was left, anyway. He shook his head angrily. "I'm so sorry, Emie. Laura is a piece of shit."

"I just wish Bagans had listened to us to begin with," I sighed, and Aaron walked over, sliding beside me on the floor. I laid my head on his chest and he began dabbing the sweat off of my forehead gently.

"But you can't be angry with him for this," Aaron said softly. I nodded, listening to the calm thumping of his heart beneath cloth, skin and bone. I loved Aaron. He was the buffer between Bagans and I, always there to calm the blaze between us. Even when it came to the crew, there were times when Nick and Bagans butted heads, and Aaron was always there to be the mediator. It was one of his many talents, and it paid off in situations like these. I would always be forever thankful for it, especially now more than ever.