Title: The Death of Chris Fontenot.

Author: BlazeorFade

Rating: M for graphic violence and character death.

Summary: The night Chris died. What drove Jack to the breaking point? What won't she let herself remember? R&R, I really need it.

Disclaimer: Yes, I own everyone in this fic. Haha lawyer bitches.

Fuckfuckfuck. Go faster you piece of shit. Jack pounded her fist into the steering wheel of the car. She wished briefly that she'd stolen something faster, but she hadn't had the time. Ten minutes between getting the half static, half whatever the fuck that was and hot wiring the first she'd found parked outside her shitty motel.

"Jack….need help….highway ….fuck, all fucked up….." Chris's broken sobs were clear through the static.

"Chris, where are you? What happened?" Jack demanded, clutching her cell phone to her ear. The number on the i.d. wasn't her uncle's number. Jack quickly went through her mental road map searching out the area code he'd called from.

"……Did this to me…" And then she heard the dial tone.

Jack quickly grabbed her weapons and ran to the parking lot, her eyes scanned the area for passerby. When she saw the coast was clear she quickly hot wired a rusty, blue Ford and peeled out of the parking lot. She ignored the jack hammer of her heart, convincing herself that it wasn't that bad. It couldn't be that bad. It wouldn't be fair.

She should have reminded herself that things never were.

Jack pulled herself out of her reverie and gunned the engine as fast as the car would go. She glanced her phone, willing it to ring, wanting a simple explanation for t he frantic, fear filled phone call. None came and the silence became deafening.

Jack reached for the volume and turned it up to ear shattering level, reveling in the ache of it. Anything to keep her from thinking too much about the implications of that call. Jack kept her eyes on the blackened road as the speedometer rose higher. The engine screamed in protest, nearly drowning out the music. She had no plan, nothing but get to Chris. Have to get to Chris. Fasterfaster. Now. Why the hell wasn't she there yet?

Time dragged but she was still on the highway nearest the area code too soon. A dark person shaped shadow darted out in the middle of the road Jack swerved to avoid hitting it. Her car spun, the engine started to smoke from the night's abuse and she had to surgically remove her hands from the white knuckle grip she had on the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath, Jack threw open her door and jumped out of the car, running to the spot she'd swerved t o make sure she hadn't run anybody over.

Nothing was there. Just the burnt rubber from her tires, making a 360 circle on the road. A chill ran up Jack's spine, she was being watched, she was sure of it.


Jack jumped when she heard her name. Her breath left her in a rush, taking in the sight of the person who'd been her world for as long as she could remember and before that.

"Chris?" Her voice sounded hoarse and far away. It belonged to someone else not her, she didn't sound that way. Never had a reason to sound that way.

"What happened?" She forced herself to keep her voice steady. Chris was covered in blood and dirt, lacerations all over his face and hands, his clothing, the same clothing she'd seen him in last, was torn and bloody as well. Worst though was the menacing wound on where his shoulder met his throat, it oozed red-black, glistening in the dark. The moon is barely a sliver, but years of operating after dark has given Jack keen enough eyesight to catalogue in painful detail every visible wound on her uncle.

She move a step closer to him raising her hand to do what she wasn't sure.

"Don't!" Chris practically shouted moving back from her with a wild look of terror and something darker in his eyes.

"Don't come any closer to me." He choked. His lips shook and he stood arms folded around himself, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"All wrong. Wasn't supposed to…" He mumbled incoherently, sniffing hard, obviously fighting back tears. This scared Jack more than anything.

"Tell me what happened." Jack said forcefully taking a defiant step towards Chris.

"Its too late, baby. Done deal. I-" Chris scrubbed his hand over his face, smearing more blood down it.

"There was a vampire nest. Thought I could just….They…caught me and-" He broke off, breathing hard in and out. Chris started to pace a jagged line, always staying at least twenty feet away from her. He ran his hands through his hair so many times it started to look black with his blood, no more light to me seen.

"Vampires? What the hell are you-you're not making any sense." Jack shook her head trying to keep up with the broken explanation.

"Nathaniel wouldn't believe me when I said I wasn't a hunter." Chris said.

"We'll go back. I'll burn them to the ground." Jack started, her rage building at the thought of what must have been happening.

"You can't." Chris said, a fine tremble ran through his body, graduating to a spastic jerk. "Kept me for days. Toying with me…."

"You need to go to a hospital." Jack said starting to walk towards him. She mentally went over her scant knowledge of vampire lore. "Well get you fixed up. And get the hell away from here before they figure out you got free. How did you escape?"

Chris stopped dead and so did Jack. His entire body stiffened unnaturally. "I didn't escape." The words changed everything.

"Yes you did." Jack said barely above a whisper.

"No, he let me go. Another game. I begged them to kill me. I didn't want to be…." Chris turned around, his eyes were too bright, the pupils too large and fixed on her with a predators gaze. Like a hungry animal.

"They changed me." Chris said.

Jack stumbled back a step. She shook her head in disbelief, her lips pressed firmly together to keep form shouting.

"This morning. It takes a few hours." Chris's voice was steadier, his eyes holding an agony that howled. Jack forced herself not to back up another step back.

"You have to kill me."

"No!" Jack meant it to be strong but it came out a heartbroken plea.

"Jackie baby, you have to. If I change I'll kill you. And I can't do that." Chris walked closer to her. She stayed where she was till they were only a foot apart.

"Please." Chris held up his hand to her, broken and covered with his blood.

"No, no, no. Please don't." Jack shook her head, tears running freely down her face.

"We'll figure this out. It doesn't have to be this way. I can fix this." Jack insisted. She sounded like she hadn't breathed in a year and it felt that way as well. Her chest ached with an emotion she'd never felt with such intensity. Not even when her grandmother died.

"No, you can't fix this. There's no cure." Chris argued, making a case for his murder.

"I can't do this! I won't! Please don't make me!" Jack shouted stepping closer to her uncle. Jack threw herself against Chris's chest, wrapping her arms around him, not giving him a chance to get away from her.

He enfolded his arms around her, staining her t-shirt and jeans in his blood. She buried her face in his shoulder, centimeters from his neck wound. She could see up close the teeth marks, like those of a wild animal. Blood oozed out thick, and she could see the beginnings of fleshy tendons, muscle and bone through the torn skin.

Please, not like this. It can't end like this. She prayed to a god she couldn't bring herself to really believe in.

"We can live with this." Jack begged with childlike hope. "Figure something out, Chris."

She felt Chris relax a bit and for one perfect second she thought it would be alright. That they could live with this somehow. Then he jerked away with an inhuman growl, pushing her to the ground. Jack hit the pavement hard and stared up at Chris in shock. He clenched his fists, every muscle stretched taut as he fought for self control.

"You have to kill me. Cause when I change I'll bite you and I'll kill you." He sobbed, his mouth showed sharp teeth, dropping down and recoiling just as fast.

"You have no idea…" He shook his head, watching her still. Chris looked at her with that same terrible hunger. "You have no idea what you smell like to me right now. Its getting stronger. I can't…Jackie. I can't hold back."

"I won't kill you." Jack said from the ground. "You're all I have."

"Do it, Jack. Now." Chris said setting his face in determination.

"No." Jack picked herself up from the ground.

"Do it. You have to fucking kill me." Chris said again taking a menacing step forward. His fangs slid down again, staying firmly in place this time.

"I don't want to hurt you." He told her.

"You won't." Jack said.

"I will!" He snarled and was right in front of her, too fast for her too follow the movement.

"Chris please don't make me do this!" Jack pleaded with him. She held up her empty hands in subjugation.

"Use your knife. A clean cut straight through." Chris pushed on relentlessly.

Jack kept shaking her head, moving back a step for every step he took towards her. She'd never in her life been afraid of her uncle, now she was afraid of the monster someone had put inside him. Her mind flashed to being a child.

The first time she shot an arrow when she five, spearing Chris's car tire instead of the target. How he'd chuckled, mussed her hair and just told her it was okay, to go again. When he gave her her first gun at six and she hit every target like a natural. She thought of every time she'd been afraid and never showed it for his sake. The times she'd cared him and he for her.

One moment in particular stood out though;

"I like this one." Jack said pointing to a .44 magnum. The monster of a gun that gleamed in gun shop's glass case. She was thirteen.

"That's a monster of a gun, Sparks." Chris said.

"So's my shotgun and I handle that one like a dream." Jack argued.

"You handle most weapons like a dream." Chris said absently. Jack felt a proud smile tug at her lips. Her uncle rarely doled out compliments about her training. He just regarded it as a necessary evil.

"I can handle that gun." Jack told him.

Chris looked at her, sized her up and jerked his chin towards the entrance of the store. Jack hid her disappointment well. She'd gotten used to that.

Later that night, Chris pulled out a gun almost exactly like the one in the store. This one was black, where the other was silver and worn whereas the other was brand new, but it might as well have been the same gun for how excited Jack got when she saw it.

"You gonna train with this and we'll see if you can handle it." Chris said holding it just out of her reach when she held out her hand for it. "This is serious gun Jacqueline. You could break your hand from the kick. You sure you want to try."

"Yes." Jack said seriously. Chris sighed, hesitantly placing the gun in her hand.

Jack looked over the weapon with an assessing eye. She respected weapons, how they worked and more importantly how they worked for her. The gun was a monster. It was so heavy in her hand but her pride wouldn't let her hold it with both hands.

"C'mon." Chris said leading her outside the no-tell motel in the middle of nowhere. Outside on the fence he'd set up one can.

"I think you're underestimating me/" She scowled at him.

"I think you're underestimating that gun." Chris shot back with a grin.

Jack glared at him, walked to the center , aimed at the can, squaring it in her sights. She held the new gun in a two handed grip, steeling herself for a recoil and pulled the trigger.

She landed flat on her ass.

Chris laughed hard, clutching his midsection, the loud guffaws were the only sound above the ringing in her ears.

"Sonuva-ow." Jack groaned putting the gun on the ground carefully. She narrowed her eyes at the gun. Pain vibrated up from her wrists into her shoulder. And her ass hurt too. Not to mention her pride.

Once she got Chris to stop laughing with threats to char him she iced down her shoulders and went right back outside with the gun. This time, Chris stood behind her, his hands over hers around the gun. The kick was less of a surprise this time but it still hurt. Chris let keep going till she had tears in her eyes from the ache in arms.

She became obsessed with that particular gun, working with it, cleaning it. Till she could shoot it on her own without falling down or getting hurt. By then the gun was falling apart, already in bad shape from lack of use before she discovered it.

When she couldn't use the magnum anymore she missed the thing. She wok up on her fourteenth birthday with a shiny, silver pair next to her pillow. They never talked about it.

"You're all I have. I barely hang on as it is." Jack told Chris.

"Kill me." Chris said.


"Do it."


"I'll hurt people. I'll hurt you!"

"Chris!" Jack shouted at him, she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, she was gonna lose it.

"Do it! You fucking need to do this! Kill me!" Chris shouted, berating her cruelly. "Do you want to die? Is that what you want? Are you that afraid of being alone?! That you're willing to die. Newsflash, even if you don't kill me you'll be alone!" She stepped back as though he'd hit her. Chris might as well have.

He was hitting on her deepest fears now. Her worst insecurities.

"Kill me. Kill me. Fucking! Kill! Me!"

"No!" Jack screamed as she swung her arm around, eyes closed. The blade moved like slow motion, slicing easily through the soft skin of his throat. She pulled it savagely across, sobbing.

She heard it rip through, heard the sickening sound of metal sawing through bone and muscle. She smelled Chris's blood in everywhere, making her sick. She heard his gurgling gasp and a reverberating thud.

Jack let go of the blade, the blood coating it dulling the metallic ping as it hit the road. Slowly, so slowly, Jack opened her eyes.

Chris's eyes stared up at her, dull and open, no light touching them anymore. He head was nearly severed clean off, lying at a disturbing angle. Chris's knees folded under his body, his arms stretched out palms up beside him. Blood pooled around his corpse, painting the dusty highway. A bead of blood clung to the corner of his lips. Her eyes took in gruesome sight of her sin, but her mind refused to believe.

Something snapped deep inside Jack's psyche and even as she stood over him, everything started to go black. Swallowed by shadows, holding the secret even from her.

Jack was hyperventilating, staring down at Chris's vacant eyes. Blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth and his throat…..God his throat. It wasn't there anymore. Just a gaping red gore was left, he was nearly decapitated. Jack's legs gave under her as hysteria took over and she started screaming and she couldn't stop.


AN: The awful truth. Don't know when I'm going to have Jack remember what really happened. I'm wondering if I should write a follow up to this from Chris's POV. What do you guys think?