The Impossible

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or plot, or anything in the Darren Shan Saga/Cirque Du Freak that's appeared in this fic. Nor do I own anything to even do with the Darren Shan Saga. Man, I do not like being broke.

A/N: I have to admit, I've never actually been to a football game, so I don't know if the stadiums have counters, or if people actually hand in their tickets there but go along with it for my sake, please? I know what I'm saying doesn't make sense now, but it will soon.

Just to clarify in case anyone's confused, but Steve still doesn't think Darren's preggers with his child. He still thinks it's so human's. Or at least, he's trying really hard to think that way. Ah, denial.

---

Chapter 12: Que Sera Sera

They didn't scold me.

I was fully expecting them too. I mean, I had left after telling them that I :

1) Wouldn't visit my hometown

2) Would leave with an escort if I actually did go for a visit.

I didn't do either of those things. So yes, I was expecting to get a full on lecture from Harkat or Evanna about my disability to stick to what I said I'd do.

But when I strolled up with Vancha, his purple animal hides practically dripping with salt water and arms around me comfortingly, as well as my puffy red eyes, tear-streaked face as well as leaky nose; they couldn't say anything.

In fact, Evanna actually helped put me to bed.

Much to my disappointment.

I wanted them to chastise me, to tell me harshly that this is what happens to naughty pregnant women who disobeys orders. I wanted them to alleviate this heavy feeling of guilt that I couldn't seem to shake off, because they were right. I'm an idiot, and Steve is a jerk.

The next day I stayed in the tent all day, staring at my make-shift pillow as if it would give me the answer to all my problems. It was just a bundle of cloth, folded several times to provide some bouncy comfort. Not very pretty, but not bad either.

I memorised it's shape and colour, and when I was done with that, I moved on to the creases and dents in the fabric that outlined the shape of my head. In the time I took to finish analysing and dedicating it's every detail to memory, I had come no closer to finding a solution to my problem.

My problem being that I could not get out of bed.

And my pregnancy hormones only served to amplify my confusion.

Evanna came to talk to me twice, speaking carefully and hesitantly, as if treading lightly on eggs. I assured her that I was fine. She didn't believe me - of course - and merely watched me stare at my pillow in silence.

I was still strangely fascinated by my sort-of pillow when night fell. I just kept my eyes on it, not processing much else.

"Any sign of the vampaneze?" I heard Vancha ask. I tried to concentrate on their conversation, to attend to my Princely duties as much as I was able to at that moment. I vaguely registered a low crackling sound - a fire had been built.

"No..." Jace answered. "I asked around, but everyone's excited about the football game that's happening tomorrow. A rare occurrence, apparently. No one would give me the answers I was looking for,"

I sat up abruptly, shocked into action. This earned me a curious look from Evanna. The football game. I'd promised Tommy I'd be there. As did Steve.

Steve. My brain groaned, my heart sighed. Of all people, he just had to be the Lord of the Vampaneze.

"We need to find the vampaneze. Despite the future being set, I have a feeling that we will have our predicted final encounter with them. It's time to settle this," Vancha said seriously.

"I agree," Harkat nodded. "That is what my heart... says as well,"

"As do I. Agree, that is," I said, pushing aside the tent flaps. My friends stared at me. I must have looked a sight. I couldn't recall the last time I combed my hair, I could feel the sore puffiness of my eyes, my face dirty with tear streaks, not to mention that I was so heavily pregnant that I had difficulty standing on legs numb from inaction.

I moved forward to sit by the warm fire, Evanna hot on my heels, silent and thoughtful.

"My friend, Tommy is playing in tomorrow's game. He said he'd set aside tickets for both Steve and I at tomorrow's game." I paused. "Steve's probably plotting something, and we should do the same. Tomorrow's our best chance to engage them."

"I see," Vancha said, his expression slightly doubtful. "Are you sure we can trust this Tommy friend of yours?"

"It might be a trap," Harkat agreed, a suspicious look on his face.

I shook my head. "It's a football game. Hundreds of people are going to be there, if not thousands. The vampaneze can't act in the public," I said. "That would be risking too much," At least I hope so. I thought, but just managed from speaking it out loud.

"So what are you suggesting?" Jace asked.

"Hmm," Xylo made an agreeing noise.

"We could follow Steve back to his base." I suggested hesitantly.

"Not a good idea. Remember what happened last time?" Vancha said.

"True," I said. "But I say we should follow him anyway. We could maintain a safe distance, not follow him into the base. Gain a small clue as to where approximately his location might be. There aren't any underground mazes, so it should be relatively easier,"

"As far as you know," Harkat argued.

I bit my lip. "That's true," I conceded.

"And we don't know that the Vampaneze Lord if going to show." Jace commented.

"That's true," I said again. My plan was as holey as swiss cheese.

"I don't like this plan," Vancha said, reading my mind. "Too many maybes."

"From this point on, no matter what you do there will be a lot of maybes," Evanna said, her tone grave. "I, too, would rather Darren stay safe, but nothing will be solved if you keep retreating,"

"Yeah," I said, nodding vigorously. I shot Evanna a grateful smile, but her worried frown just deepened further, her wisdom-filled eyes conveying her concern.

"I don't know..." Vancha said cautiously. He ran a hand through his hair, distressed. The rest of us remained silent. Aside from Evanna, who was basically an advisor, Vancha held the highest seniority and the final decision was ultimately his.

We waited, the crackling of the fire and the thick silence the only backtrack to our strange meeting.

"Alright," Vancha said finally. "We'll try."

I felt the corner of my lips turn upward slightly in a smile.

"But," he continued. "When it gets to the chasing part, we'll chase him. Not you," My mouth reversed it's slow process of turning upwards, facing downwards in a frown.

"What?" I sputtered, eyebrows knitted together.

"And," he continued. "We won't just follow him to his base. If we see a chance, we'll kill him. The future may be set, but this may be the decision that solves it," I gaped at him. He turned to Evanna.

"Lady, can I expect you to keep Darren safe?" Vancha asked the witch.

"But of course," She looked offended that he'd even suggest such a thing.

"Good," he smiled at the tiny witch. Then his eyes fell on me once again. "You won't take any unnecessary risks, will you?"

"No," I promised. "Not unless it's justified."

"Well then. That's settled!" he said cheerfully. I gave everyone a weak smile.

"Yes. Thank you... for repeatedly forgiving me," I said meekly.

"You say that as if we... have a choice," Harkat said in amusement. I punched his arm.

"I'll be so glad when this war is over, Leonard is dead and I don't have to watch you cry over him anymore," Vancha said, spitting a large glob of green slime into the fire.

That made me chew on my lower lip. Steve was an idiot and a jerk, but did I really want him to die? For the first time in a while, panic started to rise from my chest, constricting my throat. Feelings of confliction and indecision returned.

Evanna sensed my worry and placed a comforting hand over mine.

"It'll be alright," she said calmly. "Whatever will happen, will happen. Whatever must be, must be,"

"Que Sera Sera?" I joked, thinking of a song my mother used to sing as she did housework.

"Yes," she smiled slightly. "Que Sera Sera."

I smiled back at her, but though my head understood and accepted her words, my heart refused to shut up.

---

"Huh," I said to myself. I stood before the stadium, staring at the ticket booths. I couldn't get in. Somewhere further around the stadium Vancha and my other companions watched me carefully. I was to find Steve and signal our location to them.

That is, if I could find Tommy to get my ticket. I was totally regretting lying to him about where I was staying.

"Well, this is a pickle," I said to no one in particular. My kiddo kicked me, as if frustrated with my stupidity as well. I gave my swollen bump a look of annoyance. People around me stared at me, giving me weird looks. I ignored them and continued on to the ticket booth, hoping that Tommy left them the tickets or something.

I stood in line, protecting my unborn child as best I could as avid football fans boxed me in on all sides.

When I finally got to the counter, I sighed in relief. There was a little more space there. The man behind the counter was young, stick-thin, and had a face full of angry-looking acne. He looked me up, then down scrutinisingly. "Can I help you?" he asked in what I thought to be a scornful tone. I ignored it as best I could.

"Yeah, my friend's playing in today's game and I think he left me a ticket. My name's Darren Shan,"

"Yeah, sure," he said scornfully. "How 'bout you take your business elsewhere?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you heard me. We don't need your kind around here," he scoffed.

I looked down at myself. I had cleaned up a little in light of today, and changed into a clean pair of clothes. They were a little crumpled, and I was a little scruffy, but I didn't by far look like a prostitute, which was what he'd made clear he'd thought of me as. Hell, I was pregnant and wearing a scarf as well as a trench coat. I was completely and totally demure.

Okay, the pregnant part probably didn't help, but whatever.

The guy was even jerkier than Steve, and that was saying a lot.

"Please go before I call security," he said, nose screwed up in disgust.

"Look, you-" I said, my already aggravated temper flaring up.

"Sorry I'm late," Someone interrupted me, slipping an arm around my waist and kissing my cheek. I struggled and spun around, coming face to face with the Lord of the Vampaneze. I looked around. Where the hell had he popped up from? He certainly wasn't waiting in line behind me - I would have smelt him. Then I caught sight of the annoyed expressions on the people lined up behind me.

So he cut the queue, why am I not surprised?

"You got a problem with my wife?" Steve asked the counter-boy. I resisted the urge to hit my chests with my fists as my heart began beating faster at what Steve had referred to me as.

"Your wife claims she had a ticket left for her by a 'friend she had playing the game'," He put two fingers in the air, making invisible quotation marks.

"So she did, and it's right here," Steve produced two tickets from his coat pocket. "Ever hear of Tom Jones?"

The ticket boy stared at the blatant signature on the tickets. Steve smiled at him sweetly. I glared.

In a daze, the boy let us in, leaving with us our personally signed ticket stubs.

As soon as we were out of sight of the counter, I stamped on Steve's foot. He grunted in surprise and released his hold on my waist.

I stomped off, studying my ticket stub for my seat.

Kick-off wasn't for another thirty minutes, and I kind of wanted to browse through all the football merchandise - some of which was of Tommy likened to the artist 'Tom Jones' - that was being sold in stalls around the stadium, but my sulking took first priority. Then Steve took a seat beside me. I glared at him.

"Why don't you sit there?" I asked, pointing to an empty seat three rows above me, where I wouldn't have to see him.

"Because," he answered patiently, as if I were a spoilt, stubborn child. "That's not my seat. This is my seat," He held out his ticket stub in front of my face. I turned my head away.

"And when have you ever followed the rules?" I grumbled under my breath.

"I follow the rules all the time." he shrugged. "Just not all of them,"

I gritted my teeth angrily. Was he always this infuriating? It seemed like his annoying factor had risen a few just today.

A sort of silence fell over us, as I studiously looked away from him, at some random part of the floodlit pitch.

I am just here for the sake of the vampire clan. That's the only reason. I told myself, encouraging myself to bear with Steve just a bit longer. No matter what happens, my duties to the vampire clan takes precendence over anything else.

---

At least, that's what I kept telling myself. But it wasn't long until I reverted to my childish self, yelling and screaming for Tommy. Steve wasn't as loud as I was - but he was just as excited.

I won't bore you with all the tedious details of football, as there is absolutely no way I can convey how awesome this match was, but all you have to know was that it was a close one, but Tommy won in the end.

In my victory cheer frenzy, I hugged the person closest to me, who also happened to be the father of my child. Much to my astonishment, he didn't push me away or make a snide comment, merely held me close. It was at times like these that I thought, I don't want Steve to die.

Later, when we pulled away, I thought I saw a sort of sorrow in his eyes, an emotion that was mirrored in mine. He knew what I was thinking, without me having to say it, because it was the same thing on his mind. This would be the last we saw of each other under such circumstances. It could be the last time we saw each other ever. We were enemies, rivals, adversaries. The idea of being together in the first place was a nonsensical concept. One that had always been impossible.

He placed a light, gentle kiss on my forehead and left, in a similar fashion to how we parted in the cemetery.

I watched him go, slumping back into my seat. All around, people rejoiced over the conquest of Tommy's team. Their bouncy, joyful cheering framed my line of vision, but my eyes were focused on Steve's back as he retreated. I started tearing up involuntarily.

Steve was nearly at the exit when I remembered my responsibilities as a Prince. I whipped out my mobile phone and stared blankly at the screen. This could be the sentencing, the swing of the axe that beheads him.

I could hardly see the screen as I typed out the message to Jace, my tears had gathered to the point that it impaired my vision. I bowed my head in shame and let out an agonised cry as I pressed the send button. People stared at me in concern at my odd behaviour, but I didn't care. None of them could possibly understand what I was going through.

Sorry, baby. I said mentally to my stomach. You won't be meeting your real daddy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... Steve.

I stared out into the empty field, sitting numbly in my seat. My tears had dried up, leaving my eyes sore and dry. All the fans of the victorious team had left, taking their celebration elsewhere. The fans of the opposing team had also left, taking their moping to pubs and bars. One would drink joyfully, the other would mourn. Either way there would be loads of people drinking tonight Oh, how I wanted to be one of them.

For different reasons, but with the same destination in mind. Onwards to Happyland.

Thoughts like these kept running through my mind. It was as if my brain was doing anything it could not to process the fact that Steve may be dead already.

I just had to think of it.

Oh God. I groaned, bending over as far as I could, feeling like I was going to be ill.

"It's okay," Someone said soothingly. I looked to my side to see a relatively calm Evanna. "It's alright," she repeated, cradling my head with her thick arms.

It wasn't until much later that we finally got back to our campsite. No one was back there yet. That made me even more sick.

Losing Steve was bad enough; if I lost Harkat and Vancha - and even Xylo and Jace, for that matter - as well to vengeful vampaneze, I'd shatter into a million pieces. And no damn king's horses or men could ever put me back together again.

Evanna tutted me when I told her my thoughts and told me to go to sleep, I needed it.

"And I have to attend to some business," she said quietly. If I had been more attentive, I would have noticed the strange tone in her voice.

"Alright," I said, uncomprehending as I laid my head down on my improvised pillow as Evanna left the tent, the soft wisps of fabric and canvas the only proof that she had left.

I tried to will myself to sleep - to no avail.

All I could do was wait; worried, exhausted and lonely.

---