&fic;

 

Leave Them Ghosts Behind

by sugargroupie

PG-13, 819 words

Summary: she can feel the paranoia pulling her under.

Disclaimer: The characters of Blade do not belong to me.

Notes: Because I?e been trying to write something in this fandom since forever, and Karen Jenson would not leave my thoughts. Spoilers for the first movie only, since they saw fit to pretend like a sista didn? exist in the sequels. Not that I? bitter or anything. Beta-free, and alas, porn free as well.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Blade disappears from her life and leaves dreams in his place.

Disturbing, vivid dreams that force hoarse cries from her throat, shaken and clawing the sheets with her fingers.

When Karen searches for teeth marks that no longer exist, she thinks it must all be the result of an over-active imagination.

She thinks nothing of the lullaby as she drifts back to sleep the faint rhythm of blood pulling from her veins, and Blade, bending her body into his taking, and giving nothing in return.

* * *

She carries a garlic cocktail in the pocket of her lab coat for months, silently daring whatever creatures (vampire, she thinks, but won? name) lurking to try and catch her off guard.

And when, "Dr. Jenson, can you take a look at this blood sample," slips through her defenses she freezes, realizes her weapon is for naught. She can't protect herself from her ghosts.

* * *

Karen takes the elevator in her apartment building only when she's alone. After spraying one of her neighbors in the face with garlic she knew something had to change.

Still, she can feel the paranoia pulling her under.

* * *

She swears off dating after Curtis; swears off something else entirely because of Blade.

It's understandable that you're in mourning, her co-workers tell her. Karen doesn't bother correcting their assumptions. She needs to not wonder if the people around her are familiars; needs for the urge to search their person for tattoos and skin grafts, tests for a sudden allergy to sunlight to pass.

(Except for the one who could, who was an anomaly even after she knew he was a Daywalker.)

Fucking vampire.

Until that time comes she's more than happy to let her friends believe she's still grieving.

* * *

Months later, Karen discovers that Ahmad has the sweetest lips. Ahmad is the first man she kisses, after. The first man who makes her laugh and forgets the fatal cocktail hidden in her purse.

He is nothing like Curtis, which is just as well. They date, and he humors her wanting to take the stairs to her apartment. "I just want to avoid the crowd," she says with a smile, and he believes the lie that spills effortlessly from her lips.

Karen doubts he would believe her story of vampires and their ancient gods. He would probably be disgusted to learn how close she came to sustaining on blood alone, and how walking that edge was both terrifying and exhilarating; that even now wavering back and forth between the two nearly makes her sick to her stomach.

She worries too that she favors the giddy fear over being plain scared as hell of becoming a vampire.

She worries, and tries to forget when Ahmad presses his lips to her mouth; when he slips his fingers between her thighs and she remembers the high of full-on pleasure.

"When's the last time someone touched you like this," he murmurs against her neck.

"Months," she answers truthfully.

Karen leans into the kisses he trails down her neck, closes her eyes tightly at the faint pressure of teeth and tongue on her skin. She cups the back of his head and pushes down, gritting out, "harder," between clenched teeth.

Ahmad obliges, but Karen needs more. Suddenly his hands and mouth aren't enough. "Bite me," she whispers; says it again when he hesitates.

His teeth graze her neck. She digs her fingernails into his back, hoping the sharp sting will encourage him. She wants to tell him he doesn't have to be gentle with her. She's almost fucked a vampire; came just from his fangs piercing her skin.

She can take the pain.

Ahmad breaks free from her grip, wipes his mouth on his hand as he staggers away.

"What the hell was that about?"

Karen ignores the exasperation in his tone.

This is wrong. She can't answer his questions when she can't handle her own.

"Get out," she says forcefully, sighing deeply when he leaves.

Ahmad is not the first man she fucks, after.

* * *

Dr. Karen Jenson still wakes from her dreams with the lingering taste of blood on her tongue, or sweat and Bladeskin.

Sometimes she can still feel ash remains falling down on her arms and face, only she's not sure if it's Blade or Frost or some unknown.

Instead of going back to sleep, she pours over her notes of Blade, his blood work and his almighty serum.

At some point Karen decides to do this thing; work on its adaptive properties and do her part for the war Blade spoke of before they parted ways.

And hopefully, finally, get him the hell out of her life.

* * *

Blade reappears in her life and her dreams intensify.

Karen is sure of one thing: if he takes anything, he will give much in return.

*

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