Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/845891.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee, True_Blood
  Relationship:
      Sam_Evans/Rory_Flanagan, Sam_Evans/Marley_Rose, Blaine_Anderson/Kurt
      Hummel, Santana_Lopez/Sebastian_Smythe, One_Sided-_Ryder_Lynn/Rory
      Flanagan, Rachel_Berry/Kitty_Wilde, Mike_Chang/Tina_Cohen-Chang
  Character:
      Sam_Evans, Rory_Flanagan, Sebastian_Smythe, Santana_Lopez, Rachel_Berry,
      Tina_Cohen-Chang, Mike_Chang, Kurt_Hummel, Mercedes_Jones, Artie_Abrams,
      Kitty_Wilde, Ryder_Lynn, Marley_Rose
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-16 Updated: 2013-09-01 Chapters: 12/? Words: 151176
****** Musical Vampire Mysteries of Rory Flanagan ******
by jlbassmaster_(Airwing)
Summary
     Rory Flanagan is a teen with the ability to read people's memories,
     and Sam Evans is a vampire that takes a special interest in him. Join
     them and their friends as they face romance, violence, death, magic,
     and lots of blood! Heavily inspired by the mythos of True Blood.
Notes
     Author's Notes: This is some sort of whacked out crossover that
     popped into my head for no apparent reason other than the fact that
     two of my favorite currently running shows are Glee and True Blood.
     Even if you are not a True Blood fan, the story will stand on its own
     just fine, because I am using the Glee characters mixed with the True
     Blood mythology, and if you follow along, everything that is
     necessary to know will be explained.
      
     As a precaution, anyone that knows True Blood is familiar with the
     fact that it's kind of violent, graphically gory, and erotic, with an
     amazing plot underneath it all. That said, there will be some graphic
     descriptions of gore and violence and eroticism to keep in spirit
     with the show. Furthermore, this story is meant to be Sory centered,
     so if that bothers you, then you won't much care for this.
      
     Also note that, because of mixing these two series, characters are
     sometimes OOC, since in some cases I am blending a Glee character
     with a True Blood character. That's not an oversight on my part, it's
     intentional as part of the idea of this story. :)
      
     In reference to the title, the books that True Blood is based on are
     called The Southern Vampire Mysteries of Sookie Stackhouse. This
     title was created to nod to the source material and Glee as well. I
     give credit of the wonderful title to my beta boys.

     Beta Credit: Ragnarok45, TVTime
     Consulting Credit: Ragnarok 45, AndyMixter, TVTime: These three have
     been a huge help in brainstorming for this story and of course
     proofing. Give them cookies. Big cookies, because the first draft
     sucked worse than anything I ever wrote, seriously.
***** Season 1, Episode 1: I See You *****
Season 1, Episode 1: I See You
Lima, Ohio: Summer, 2013
The Lima Bean was one of the most popular hangouts for teenagers, particularly
since Lima wasn't exactly brimming with excitement. In fact, it was downright
boring, especially in the summer. Luckily, the teenagers' bar stayed open until
nine. It was set up like a standard bar, complete with barstools lining a long
bar-like counter. Booths bordered the walls of the dining area, with tables
scattered about. Unlike a regular bar, however, the lights weren't dimmed down
low, the music wasn't blaring, but rather subtle, and no alcohol was served in
any capacity. Instead of booze, coffees, smoothies, and food were offered. Lima
Bean was an all around nice place to hang out.
Tonight, a trio of teenagers were snickering amongst themselves as they watched
a tall brown-haired boy struggling with a tray stacked with empty glasses,
dishes, and used napkins. The boy was clearly clumsy, tripping over his own two
feet and dropping one of the empty containers onto the teenagers' table.
"I'm sorry, let me clean that up for ye'," the waiter apologized in a thick
Irish accent. "I can be a wee bit clumsy sometimes." He reached for the glass
and put it back on his tray, leaning over with a clean, cloth napkin and wiping
off the few drops of liquid that had spilled.
"Give me that," one of the boys demanded, grabbing for the rag. When he did,
his hand made contact with the Irish teen's skin, causing the waiter to jerk
his hand back as if in reflex. "Dude, what's your problem? I just needed to dry
my hand off since you decided to drop a drink on me!"
"I'm sorry, really," the server repeated, leaving the napkin with them and
hurrying off toward the kitchen. He could hear the boys laughing loudly and
muttering insults amongst themselves behind him. His face was now a deep shade
of pink and his shoulders slumped as the words 'Did you see what that asshole
did to me?' rang in his ears, obviously intended for him to hear.
"You okay, Rory?" a voice asked. He tried not to look at its owner, a short
black girl with a thick figure and pretty black hair. When he finally nodded,
she offered him a comforting smile, even though she knew it wouldn't really
help much. "Don't pay attention to those jerks. They'll be lucky if Kurt
doesn't spit in their next café mocha," the girl said, poking her head from
around the wall in front of the kitchen, scowling at the chuckling teens.
"Thanks, Mercedes, I can't help that I'm so clumsy," Rory replied, feigning a
smile. She saw right though him, however, all too familiar with his constant
attempts at covering up his hurt feelings.
"You look a little…," the girl began, observing the wrinkled brow of her co-
worker and friend. "Did you touch one of them?" She emerged completely from the
kitchen, toting a box of bottled water. She set it down on the bar top and
turned to face him.
Rory nodded slowly. "By accident. It wasn't long, but just enough," he
admitted. "It was gross."
Mercedes sneered. "What did you see, or dare I ask?"
"I'll just say that he likes lookin' at some really weird adult websites," he
told her, a grin finally spreading across his face. "I guess it's kinda funny
once I get past the grossness. Girls doing things with other girls while
pouring some sort of brown mud all o'er each other."
Mercedes burst into laughter. "That is funny! What a freak. See, you got no
reason to let them upset you. You can see all their dirty secrets with a touch.
You have all the power in the world over them if you think about it."
The Irish teen smiled again. "Yeah, ye'r right. Ye'r confidence always makes me
feel better. I'd still rather not 'ave to wait on their table though. Do ye'
think Tina would mind?"
"Mind what?" came another, softer, female voice. Rory turned around to see
Tina, the assistant manager of the evening shift. She had a wide smile across
her face, her eyes as friendly looking as ever. Her long black hair was pulled
into low, twin pigtails, giving her a childlike appearance.
"Those jerks are giving Rory a hard time. You mind finishing up with them?"
Mercedes answered before the boy could speak up.
Tina gave a mischievous grin, accompanied by a glint in her eyes. "Of course.
I'll take good care of them," the Asian woman said. "Their check?" Rory reached
into one of the pockets of his waiter's apron and pulled out the ticket for the
obnoxious teens. He slowly handed it to Tina, unsure of exactly what she had in
mind.
"Oh lord, what's she gonna do now?" Rory whispered to Mercedes, the pair of
them watching her with great interest. They couldn't hear what Tina was saying,
but apparently whatever it was, the boys handed over some cash, got up, and
left with little fanfare. Tina bid them a good evening with a triumphant grin
and returned to her friends.
"What'd you do?" Mercedes asked quickly as Tina handed Rory the cash so he
could ring it up in the register, and take out his tip that Tina had so
obviously insisted they leave behind.
Tina grinned, her innocent-looking features shining with pride. "I simply
reminded them that my parents are making a donation to the football team in the
fall, and how I'd hate to have to ask them to reconsider." She giggled, pleased
with herself.
"Girl, you are an unstoppable force of nature," the black woman complimented.
She shook her head and headed back to the bar, picking the box of water back up
and putting it away in the small refrigerator beneath the countertop. She then
proceeded to wipe down the bar with a washrag as she continued to chuckle to
herself.
"Thanks, Tina. I appreciate it. Ye' always watch out for me," Rory said. "Ye'
should 'ave the tip. Ye' did the hard part." He started to dig into his pocket
to check the extra cash but she stopped him by placing her hand gently on his
wrist. She made sure to only let her fingertips brush his watchband, avoiding
contact with his pale flesh.
"Don't be silly. You earned it; I just delivered the check," she said, smiling
and walking off toward the office in the back, most likely to check on Mike,
her boyfriend and evening manager of the Lima Bean.
-ooo-
A tall blonde man had come in shortly before the entire incident with the
teenagers and the young waiter. He sat in the booth at the far corner where he
would hardly be noticed, observing the brunette and his adversaries. He felt
sympathy for him as he tripped and the teenagers laughed at him, then got rude
with him. He noted, however, the strange reaction the boy seemed to have upon
being touched. It was odd, the way he pulled back his hand like he had touched
something hot.
The blonde man felt a twinge of happiness, however, when he watched the Asian
woman. She had approached the boys, murmured a few choice words to them—always
smiling—which put strained looks on their faces. Then she collected their money
and shooed them out the door. There was something about the tall, brunette boy,
though, that caught the blonde's attention. He couldn't put his finger on it,
but something made him keep his eyes locked on the teen, watching as the waiter
had a seemingly cheerful exchange with the Asian and the dark-skinned woman.
Again, the man felt a twinge of satisfaction to see the boy smiling. Maybe the
smile was what had drawn his attention. No, not just the smile: it was also the
bright blue eyes that suddenly focused on him as the waiter noticed he had a
patron that needed tending to.
-ooo-
"Hey, Rory," Mercedes called. "You got a customer." She nodded her head toward
the gentleman in the booth at the back of the dining room. Rory turned to look
at him, noticing that the man was staring right at him.
"The way he's staring at you, you'd think he was trying to memorize you or
something," Kurt, the barista, said as he sidled up to the young waiter,
seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he often did. Kurt had a habit of
curiously sneaking up on people, even though he didn't mean to. He was just
quiet until he made an official appearance. The brunette, flamboyant barista
shared some similar features with Rory, and they were both openly gay, leading
people to confuse them at times – something Rory wasn't particularly happy
about, simply because he felt Kurt's over-the-top style was tacky, not that the
shy, polite Irish waiter would ever voice his opinion out loud or that it made
him think any less of Kurt as a person.
"Maybe he just thinks you're hot," Kurt added with a sly grin. Ever since Rory
confided his sexuality in him, Kurt had been trying to set the teen up with
every guy who so much as looked at him, but Rory continually brushed Kurt's
efforts away. He wasn't stuck up, rather he was afraid of what he might see if
he touched would-be suitors.
"Oh stop, ye' always think e'eryone is lookin' at me like that. Ye' know
better," Rory scolded. "I better go help him before he gets impatient." Trying
not to pay attention to the fact he was being stared at, Rory walked with the
little confidence he had over to the blonde man's table, pulling his notepad
and pen out of his pocket as he walked.
Kurt skittered over to the bar instantly, whispering to Mercedes. "I sure hope
he does think that boy is hot. Rory needs a date, and that blondie is quite a
looker." Mercedes chuckled lightly.
"You're determined to couple that boy up with someone before the end of the
summer," the woman said. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if we just, you know, stood
here and pretended not to pay attention, right?"
"Now you're speaking my language," Kurt said, the pair of them casually
watching how their friend interacted with the blonde man.
-ooo-
"Hello, welcome to the Lima Bean," Rory said cheerily, giving his new customer
an inviting smile. The stranger looked back at him with a grin that was
slightly eerie, but at the same time slightly… easing. "Sorry sir, for ye'r
wait. Can I get ye' anything?"
The blonde man simply stared up at Rory's big blue eyes. It's quite alright.I
wasn't waiting long at all. Besides, I saw you had some… rowdy patrons to
finish up with," he said soothingly, referring to the teenagers that had been
giving Rory a hard time. "You and your friend handled them quite well."
Rory gulped, unable to do anything but stare back at the stranger, his eyes
locking onto the emerald shine from the other man's own eyes. "Ah, yes, they
were a wee bit rowdy, but now they're gone. But, uh, what can I get for ye'?"
The stranger tilted his head slightly and glanced down at the table before
returning his gaze upward.
"Do you have any Tru Blood?" the blonde asked nonchalantly, a pleasant smile
still set on his thick lips. He was always a little nervous about sharing his
status as a vampire for fear of how he might be treated.
At the mention of the drink's name, Rory felt the hairs stand up on the back of
his neck. He tried not to draw attention to his throat as he swallowed
nervously. He could feel his hands starting to tremble a little bit as well,
sweat forming on his forehead.
"Oh, oh yes, I think we' 'ave some in the back. I'm not sure what Mike ordered.
It might not even be any good, but I can check for ye'," Rory managed to get
out in a hurried ramble.
"Whatever you have is fine, but O negative if there is any," the blonde said.
Rory wanted to move, wanted to walk away, but something about the stranger was
keeping him in his spot. "Wait, am I right in thinking that maybe you haven't
met one of us before? A vampire, I mean," he asked before Rory had any more
time to think.
Rory slowly shook his head before finding his voice. "No, no sir, I 'aven't. I,
ah, I don't think any of us 'ave. Ye'r the first one to come here that I know
of. I guess maybe we aren't that popular," he replied, trying to add some humor
at the end, more to calm himself than anything else.
"Well, Rory, you don't have to feel uncomfortable around me. I'm not here to
bother anyone. I only came for a drink, and people watching," the man said,
softening his eyes.
"H-how did ye' know me name?" Rory blurted out, unnerved.
The vampire chuckled lightly. "It's on your nametag." He nodded at Rory's
chest, the boy suddenly blushing at his own foolishness.
"Oh yes, o' course. I'll uh, go get that Tru Blood for ye' now, sir," the teen
said, finally finding his confidence to skitter off toward the kitchen, his
face still a light shade of pink.
-ooo-
Mercedes followed Rory into the kitchen and to the storage room that housed
their unused beverages and other items that needn't be frozen. "So… the way he
was smiling at you… did he talk like he was interested in you?" she asked
excitedly.
The Irish teen shrugged as he was sorting through the shelves on the wall. "I
dunno. I'm not very good at readin' that kind o'thing." Mercedes frowned. Rory
had always been a little daft when it came to flirtation. "Where's the Tru
Blood's at? he asked, agitated.
Mercedes' face dropped instantly. "The what!?" Her voice had become
gravelly—almost harsh.
"Tru Blood. I cant find them, but I know Mike ordered some a while back," the
teen replied, oblivious to Mercedes' sudden concern. "Aha!" he finally
exclaimed, reaching far into the back behind several six packs of soda. There
were only four, all of them AB positive, but the vampire had assured him
whatever he found would be fine.
"He ordered Tru Blood? He's a vampire?" the girl questioned, ignoring her
friend's excitement at finding his prize. "Rory, you better be really careful,
you know what they can do to people," she cautioned. The boy made a
noncommittal mumble as he looked at the nutrition information on the bottle out
of curiosity. She yanked the bottle from his hand to get his attention. "I'm
serious! They can do that little mind trick. Don't look him in the eyes, no
matter what, you got me?"
The boy snatched the bottle back from her. "I'll be fine, Mercedes. Don't
worry. He said he just came here for a drink, so I don't think he wants any
trouble." With a curt nod of his head he walked out of the storage room,
through the kitchen and paused at the bar to put the bottle on a tray, along
with a glass of ice. As he walked back toward the table, Kurt rushed up next to
the scowling woman.
"Did he just walk out of there with a –" he began.
"Tru Blood. Yep. The dude is a vampire," Mercedes stated grimly. "Don't let
Rory out of your sight. I warned him not to look at the guy's eyes, but you
know Rory. Overly friendly to a fault."
"Naïve, too. I mean really, a glass of ice? With blood? That boy really is
adorably clueless sometimes," Kurt added. Mercedes stifled a chuckle,
maintaining her serious demeanor.
-ooo-
"I'm so sorry for the delay, sir. They were hidden in the back o' the storage
closet," Rory stated apologetically as he set the beverage down in front of the
vampire, putting the glass down next to it with a nervous smile. "Is there
anythin' else I can get for ye'?"
The vampire began to giggle like a child, biting his bottom lip in an attempt
to silence himself. Rory frowned, unsure what was so amusing. "Is… is something
wrong, sir?"
Regaining his composure, the vampire looked up at the boy with his innocent
blue eyes, genuine concern set in them. "Blood is generally served at ninety-
eight point six degrees. The temperature of the human body," he explained,
smiling.
Again, Rory's face turned a deep crimson. "Oh me God! I'm so sorry!" he
exclaimed, reaching for the bottle. "I didn't think—I ne'er served one before!
I'll be right back, I –"
The blonde man placed his hand on Rory's, stopping him from taking the bottle.
His skin was cool, sending a shiver down the teen's spine. "Don't worry about
it, Rory. It's an honest mistake. It's actually quite funny."
Normally, if someone touched Rory when he wasn't expecting it, he would end up
'seeing' something he didn't want to, like with the teenager earlier, but when
this stranger's fingers brushed over the back of his hand... nothing happened.
Thinking that perhaps he'd managed to subconsciously block the effect, Rory let
his curiosity overtake him for a moment as he purposely tried to 'look' inside
the vampire; still, he got nothing but an unending, blank, quiet void. It was
like when he touched someone with his mental block up, but this time without
needing the conscious barrier. It was… a relief.
Noticing the look of confusion on the boy's face, the man released his grip.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cross a boundary. I shouldn't have put my hand on
you," he said, wondering if he had offended the young man. He watched as the
look on Rory's face shifted from one of confusion, to one of happiness.
"No, it's okay," Rory said lightly. He couldn't help but let his face wander
toward the stranger, allowing his gaze to be captured in the alluring green
eyes. Realizing what he was doing, the boy quickly looked away.
"Don't be afraid to look at me. I'm not going to glamour you. I don't want your
attention that way." The blonde man's voice was as captivating as his eyes.
Rory finally lifted his gaze to glance at the other man, goofy grins spreading
across both of their faces. "I'm sorry, I've been rude. My name is Sam," the
vampire said.
"Nice t'meet ye', Sam," the young man replied. "I'm… oh, right, ye' already
know." Again he flushed crimson, grasping for something else to say, something
that didn't sound stupid, but all he managed was an offer. "Do ye' want me
t'warm up that Tru Blood for ye'?"
Sam nodded. "Please. Three and a half minutes in the microwave usually works
for me. Be careful. The bottle will be hot. I don't want you to burn your
hands." He smiled, handing the drink over to the waiter. "Burns make your hands
calloused, and from what I can tell, yours are still smooth. Mine are a bit
rough from playing guitar. I can tell you about that when you get back, if you
want."
"Sure, I'll be right back," Rory said quickly, sending a heart-stopping smile
the vampire's way before turning and scuttling away toward the kitchen again,
almost tripping over his own two feet. Sam watched him, a pleased look on his
face. He noticed that the more flustered the boy seemed to get, the clumsier he
became. It was endearing and reminded him of his much younger brother from his
human life.
-ooo-
Mercedes wasted no time in scolding her friend. "I saw you looking at him. I
told you not to," she said harshly. He walked right past her and toward the
back counter where he placed the bottle in the microwave and set the timer.
"Did you hear me? He's probably hypnotized you by now!"
Rory shook his head. "No. I don't think he did. He may not be able to. I mean,
I wasn't able to, ye' know, 'see' him the way I usually can with other people.
I tried. If my… whatever it is… won't work on him, maybe his glamouring won't
work on me." He turned to face his friends, Kurt having just stepped up to join
them.
"What do you mean you couldn't 'see' him? I thought that happened with
everybody you touched if you didn't concentrate," Kurt inquired, the look on
his face grave.
"When he grabbed me hand, I… at first I didn't get any images in me head, so I
thought maybe I blocked without realizing it, but then I actually tried to
'see' him, and… nothing," Rory explained. He glanced at his friends, both of
them confused. "It was like looking at empty space. It was kind o'nice."
"Nice? What do you mean nice?" Mercedes demanded, crossing her arms over her
chest. "Vampires aren't something you should be feeling nice about. They're
dangerous, and… and crazy!"
"Because, Mercedes, most o'the time when someone touches me, I 'ave to control
meself to keep from sensing their memories, especially if they catch me off-
guard like that. But it didn't happen this time. For a moment, I actually felt…
normal," the Irish teen went on, his eyes softening into sadness.
Kurt wrinkled his face in a harsh scowl. "You are normal. Don't talk like you
aren't. You just have an extra gift." Before the argument could go on, the bell
on the microwave went off. Rory turned around, and recalling Sam's warning,
used a nearby napkin to handle the hot container. Even through the thick
napkins he could feel the heat of the glass.
"We can talk about this later. I 'ave a customer to serve," Rory announced,
annoyed at their lack of faith in his judgment of character. He walked
purposefully toward the dining room, bottle in hand.
"We have to keep an eye on him. I can tell, he's crushing on him and I don't
even need a special gift to see that," Mercedes said quietly, her eyes filled
with concern. Kurt nodded in agreement, tending to his next order, but not
letting his gaze fall anywhere but on his endangered friend.
-ooo-
"Thank you, Rory," Sam said taking the bottle in his hand and bringing it to
his lips to sip it. "Perfect."
The teen showed his goofy smile again "I'm sorry for the mix up again. Next
time I'll make sure to give ye' a warm one. I mean, if ye' even want t'come
back." He looked down at the table, almost as if shamed by his error.
"I definitely want to come back. The service here is perfect," Sam said with a
genuine nod of satisfaction. Noticing the blush across the boy's cheeks, he
went on to ask a question. "Are you working tomorrow?"
Rory nodded his head. "Yes. Until nine."
"Then I'll be back tomorrow. I'll be sure to sit at your table," Sam assured
him.
"O-okay," the teen stammered, still nervous about meeting his first vampire on
top of his inability to use his gift on him. It was a lot to take in at one
time. "I 'ave to tend to me other customers, but let me know if there's
anything else I can get ye'."
Sam waved his hand casually. "Just the check. I need to be going. I have an
errand to run, unfortunately."
Rory looked at him with curiosity, wondering what kind of errand a vampire
could have. Pushing his thoughts aside, he stated Sam's 'check'. "It's on the
house. For me mistake," he replied. "I hope you 'ave a nice night, Sam." He
gave a polite grin that turned out to be a little more friendly than he'd
intended.
"Thank you, Rory. For the drink, and for the pleasant conversation," Sam
replied with a soft smile of his own. Unsure what to do next, Rory turned and
walked away. He immediately began praying he didn't stumble as he left Sam to
finish his drink. Not five minutes later, after he'd turned around from helping
another customer, Sam was gone. When Rory went to clear the table of the now-
melted cup of ice and empty bottle, there was a slip of paper sitting atop a
twenty-dollar bill.
Thank you for the wonderful service, Rory. I look forward to seeing you
tomorrow evening.
The sloppily written words made him feel jittery inside, the same way most
people felt when asked out on a date. He knew that wasn't what the paper meant;
it was merely a compliment, but it was so genuine, and the tip so generous, he
couldn't help but think about Sam the rest of the evening. He was amused that
this, most likely, ancient being had such chicken-scratch for handwriting, but
that thought was replaced as he wondered why he couldn't 'see' him. It was just
so wonderful to touch someone and not absorb memories he didn't care to see
without having to concentrate. It was so amazing to feel normal, even if only
for just a few moments.
-ooo-
"He left me a twenty," Rory stated with a smirk as he waltzed past Mercedes and
Kurt, toward the kitchen.
"Probably because he wants to drain you," Mercedes called after him harshly.
She turned toward Kurt, lowering her voice to a whisper. "He's gonna glamour
that boy, and then bite him, drink him dry, turn him into a vampire, and next
thing you know, we got an Irish vampire on our asses."
Kurt suppressed a chuckle and rolled his eyes at her dramatics. "I don't think
it's quite that serious. I mean, about him turning into one. He'll probably get
bitten, but I don't want to see that poor clueless kid drained like a tank of
water."
The full-figured woman put her hands on her hips, scowling. "Quit being a
smartass. This is serious and you're just trying to cover it up with ill-timed
humor," she scolded.
He sighed, shaking his head. "I really don't want anything to happen to him. I
wish that thing never came in here. Now we have to protect Rory until he stops
being infatuated with him." He nodded at Tina, who was across the room, her
purse on her shoulder as she left for the evening.
Mercedes' face softened, knowing full well that Kurt was just as worried as she
was. "You know, I wonder what Mike would think about this."
"Think about what?" came a deep masculine voice approaching them from behind.
Mike Chang, a tall, lean Asian man barely older than Mercedes and Kurt leaned
over the countertop, raising an eyebrow at them.
"Yes, think about what?" Rory added as he came out of the kitchen, a suspicious
glare pasted on his face.
Kurt stayed silent as Mercedes took charge of the explanation. "About that
vampire that was up in here, eyeing you like his next meal!"
Mike perked up, standing straight. "We had a vampire in here? A real one? After
all this time?" His question was a general query but his attention was focused
right on the young Irish lad.
Rory slowly nodded his head. "Yes, we had a real vampire here. He was nice and
polite, and he left me a big tip. I uh… comped his drink though, because I
messed up when I served it to him cold. I didn't know ye'r supposed to heat it
up first. I was embarrassed so I didn't charge him." He lowered his eyes,
knowing that Mike's father disliked excessive freebies. "I'll pay for it if ye'
want," he offered.
Mike, normally a laid-back manager, spoke with the most serious tone any of
them had ever heard. "I'm not worried about the drink. I don't care how nice,
or how proper he was, or even how big of a tip he left you. You watch yourself
around him, you hear me?" he said, standing very close to Rory, his jaw set
firm. "Vampires are dangerous, and can't be trusted. I don't want to see you
get hurt. I'm telling you this, not as your manager, but as your friend."
The Irish teen sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I'll be fine. I'm clumsy, not
stupid. Now if ye' would all let me alone, I 'ave tables to wipe down and
inventory to log so I can go home." He was obviously annoyed by their bigotry,
especially from a trio of minorities themselves, but he tried to keep in mind
that they were only looking out for him. They just didn't understand, however,
that the vampire—Sam—meant no ill will to anyone. He could feel it in his very
being.
-ooo-
The very next evening, Sam was sitting in the exact same seat as the night
before, waiting patiently for his favored waiter. He smiled brightly as the
young man approached the table, a smile across his own lips. "It's nice to see
you again, Rory," he said softly, speaking before the boy had time to greet
him.
"Hi! Nice to see ye', too." Rory's eyes were shining with excitement upon
speaking to his new vampire associate. "Thank ye' so much for the tip last
night. It was far too generous, especially since I messed up ye'r order." He
lowered his eyes bashfully.
Sam waved his hand dismissively. "You didn't mess it up. How were you supposed
to know to heat it up when I'm the first of my kind to come here? Do you
realize how badly people like myself get treated in public places?" he asked.
"You were respectful, attentive, and quite pleasant to talk to. I value that."
The Irish teen's face flushed, unsure of how to respond to that. "I… uh… thank
ye'. I just think people deserve to be treated nice until they start acting
mean." He knew it sounded cliché and a little bit lame, but it was true—he very
much liked to be nice to everyone and make friends whenever he could. "So uh,
what can I get for ye'?" he asked, not thinking about the fact that it was a
silly question given that vampires only consume one thing.
The vampire smiled, finding the boy's awkwardness endearing. "I'll take a Tru
Blood, whatever you have in the back. Heated, please," he added with a sly
grin.
"I'll have it ready for ye' in just a few minutes." Rory quickly marked the
order down on his notepad and shuffled off to the kitchen, stumbling over his
shoelace. Sam couldn't help but let his eyes lock onto the boy's firm looking
rear, his black jeans accentuating his curves in just the right places. Rory
looked so innocent with his big, shining, ocean-blue eyes, his pale skin,
perfectly parted hair, and the subtle scent of his cologne when he stood near.
Altogether it was an intoxicating combination no matter how pure the teen
appeared.
A few minutes later, Rory returned with a tray, a Tru Blood sitting in the
middle of it. His two co-workers were staring the pair down, the dark-skinned
woman looking particularly fierce. Sam gave the two people a friendly smile,
trying to put them at ease. It didn't seem to work, as neither of them changed
their expressions.
"Your friends seem…" Sam trailed off, searching for the right word to describe
their less than pleased demeanors. "…attentive."
"I'm sorry. They've ne'er met a vampire before either, and they're kind o'
nervous. They believe too much o' what they see in the news." Rory was
disappointed that his friends were being so obvious about their disdain. "I
told them ye' were a nice man, but they're still skeptical. I'm sorry if they
make ye' feel unwelcome," he apologized, taking a moment to look back at them
with a scowl. "Chill out!" he mouthed to them.
Trying to ignore the harsh glares, Sam accepted the Tru Blood that Rory handed
him, nice and warm as he liked it. He sipped it for a moment, and then licked
the red liquid from his lips. "It's good they care about you so much. Genuine
friends can be hard to find." His voice was laced with sadness.
"Don't ye' 'ave any vampire friends?" the teen inquired, cocking his head. The
look on Sam's face made him want to lean over and hug the man, offering
comfort, but that was obviously not appropriate.
Sam chuckled lightly. "No, not really. I guess I can be a little bit of a
loner. I only like genuine friends, and like I said, those are hard to find."
He paused for a moment, letting the sentiment sink in. "Maybe you'd like to be
friends, Rory. I could show you vampire culture, and you can show me modern
human culture. I have been out of the loop for a while, so to speak. Maybe if
your friends see that I'm really not someone to be feared, they'll open up to
the idea of being friends with a vampire."
Rory was surprised by the suggestion. "Ye' want to be friends with me?"
"Why not? You're very nice, obviously not bigoted. I promise you, I won't hurt
you. I just want someone to spend some time with, 'hang out' as they say. Will
you give me a chance?" the blonde vampire asked, a pleading look in his eyes.
Rory could tell just by looking at him that he was being honest—that Sam really
did just want a friend and didn't mean any harm. Kurt and Mercedes would think
he was bonkers, trusting Sam solely on his word, but he had done just the very
same with them—accepting them right away and now they were very good friends.
There was no reason it couldn't be the same with a vampire.
"I think it'd be great to be your friend. I know what it's like, not 'aving any
friends. I 'ave plenty now, but at first I was on me own," the brunette said,
giving Sam a comforting smile.
"Thank you, for giving me a chance," Sam said, reaching out and lightly taking
Rory's hand. "You're a kind person. When's your next night off?"
Rory thought a moment, recalling the work schedule. "Oh yeah, Friday, actually.
It's me weekend off for once," he answered happily.
"Well, may I take you out to dinner Friday evening, so we can chat and get to
know each other better? Platonically, of course," Sam invited with a goofy
grin. "Friends should know things about each other, after all."
The young teen smiled yet again. "That'd be great, I'd love to. It's been a
while since I've been out anyway."
"Great. Write down your phone number and address and I can pick you up," Sam
instructed. While anyone else would have called Rory insane for divulging such
personal information to a stranger, he felt perfectly comfortable with the
request. Perhaps it was Sam's easy smile, or maybe it was his alluring eyes,
but either way Rory felt like he could trust him and scribbled the information
on his notepad and tore out the page, handing it to the blonde. When Rory
flipped his pad closed, his pen jumped out of his fingers and onto the table.
"I'll pick you up at eight-thirty then," Sam declared, his goofy grin
reappearing as he plucked the pen from the tabletop and handed it to the teen.
He could still see the other two people glaring threateningly at him—a silent
warning not to bring harm to their friend. He hoped they wouldn't convince the
boy to cancel on him. Rory had been the most welcoming person he had come
across since coming to Ohio, and losing the opportunity to foster a friendship
with him would seriously hurt. Even after one hundred years, Sam was still
vulnerable to his emotions, something many vampires had come to neglect.
"You gave him your phone number? And address? Are you stupid?" Mercedes
demanded upon discovering Rory's plans for Friday night.
The teen looked hurt by her comment, but again he tried to remember she was
only trying to look out for him. "No, I'm not stupid. He's a nice man, and he
needs a friend. Nobody else will give him a chance and I don't see why I
shouldn't. I gave both of ye' a chance and look how close we are now."
Kurt frowned. "You really are clueless, Rory. He's probably glamouring you so
he can get you alone and drain you dry." With Kurt on one side of him, and
Mercedes on the other, Rory was starting to feel ganged up on.
"Me mind is made up. I'm going to 'ave dinner with him Friday night, and that's
that. It's just dinner, and I'm a good judge of character," the Irishman
insisted sternly, looking from Kurt to Mercedes and back.
"You're too trusting is what you are. At least send us a text message so we
know you're safe with him," Kurt replied with a huff, crossing his arms in
front of his chest.
"I don't like this one bit, Rory Flanagan, but you're gonna do it, so at least
be smart about it. Wear a silver chain or something around your neck, and maybe
even a silver watch or something. Just have some silver on you. Just in case,"
Mercedes pleaded. Unlike Kurt, she knew fussing at him was only going to do but
so much good.
"I'll be safe. I promise. E'erything will be just fine, and nothing bad will
happen, and then ye'll see he's just a nice man who needs a friend, just like I
said." He didn't like lying, so he didn't commit to keeping silver on his
person, just that he'd be safe, and that could mean anything.
Rory turned to walk away, leaving his two friends alone to pout and scowl all
they wanted, but nothing they said or did was going to change his mind.
-ooo-
"Are you sure you don't want a ride?" Mike asked as he turned the lock on the
door to the Lima Bean. Rory had stayed late to help him close up shop since
Tina had the night off and he was always looking to make a little extra cash.
"I promise, I'm fine. Brittany should be here anytime now," Rory assured him.
Mike didn't look convinced in the least, pursing his lips in a look of
skepticism. "I sent her a text message. She's on her way," he added
confidently.
Mike sighed. Rory was stubborn, hating to inconvenience anyone. "I really don't
like you staying out here all by yourself at night. I'd stay with you, but… my
dad is kind of insistent I be home by nine thirty. Kinda sad, huh? Eighteen and
still under his thumb," he said, rolling his eyes at himself. "You'd think the
fact that I'm manager of the business he owns, he'd cut me some slack. Anyway,
look, if Brittany isn't here in fifteen minutes, call me and I'll come get you.
Dad will just have to get over it."
The Irish teen shook his head and smiled. "I'll be fine. Go home, Mike," he
insisted, giving him a confident grin. Being not only from another country, but
also the youngest on the staff and in the group of friends, everyone was
constantly worrying about him, as if he needed coddling or was fragile. He had
said it many times over; he was clumsy, not stupid.
Mike shrugged. "Alright. Fifteen minutes though, no more," he ordered sternly.
Rory gave him a nod while Mike walked to his car, got inside, and gave Rory a
quick wave as he started up. Rory gave him a thumbs up with both hands as the
elder teen pulled out of the parking lot.
-ooo-
Fifteen minutes had passed and Brittany had neither arrived, nor was answering
her phone via text or call. She could be an airhead sometimes, but she usually
didn't ignore a phone call. Unless… unless she was occupied with a date.
I really don't wanna call Mike. He'll get in trouble and he won't say he's mad,
but he'll be annoyed, Rory thought. Feeling embarrassed that he had assured his
manager so confidently, but instead was without a ride, he scrolled back
through his text messages to make completely sure Brittany was on her way.
A muffled noise broke his concentration. It sounded like it came from behind
the building—an area that only had the faintest of light right above the back
door, near the garbage cans. It wasn't exactly a place he wanted to go,
especially if there was something going on back there, but… he heard the sound
a second time, and this time it sounded like an animal or maybe a very young
person.
The noise came a third time, and it was then that Rory decided whatever it was,
it sounded like it was in distress. What if it's an animal, and it's hurt? Or a
little kid? I have to make sure, they might need help.
Letting his kind nature take hold of him, he crept to the back of the building,
peering cautiously around the corner. As he expected, there was an animal, and
it was hurt, because three teenagers—the same three teenagers that had been in
the Lima Bean a couple of nights before—were kicking at it. As he came from
around the corner he could see it was a dog, but it wasn't barking. It was only
whimpering, favoring its paw as it backed away from the teasing boys.
"Hey! Hey!" Rory shouted as he stepped into full view of the teens. Luckily the
lack of light hid his uneasy stance. "Stop that! Right now!" He approached the
boys, forgetting that he was alone, and there were three of them. One of them
was his height, about six feet. The other two were a little shorter, one of
them rotund.
"What are you gonna do to stop us if we don't, huh?" the tallest one smirked,
pushing the dog backward with the tip of his shoe. "There's three of us, and
one of you. Your best bet is to just turn around and walk away."
"No," Rory said confidently. "What did that dog do to ye'? Ye' 'ave no right to
hurt him!" He stepped closer to them, hoping that his height would intimidate
at least the smaller two. His heart was pounding, but he knew he needed to keep
a fierce resolve.
"That dog bit me, that's what he did!" the skinny, short boy declared, glaring
at the dog. "I was only trying to pet it."
The portly boy snickered. "Oh whatever, John. You smacked the little fucker.
You deserved to get bit," he said. The other boy, John, glared at him and
hissed a warning to shut up.
The tall boy started to laugh as his two cronies bickered back and forth. "Shut
up, guys. We got this little… problem to deal with." He turned his gaze to
Rory, giving him a snarky grin. "So, back to my original question. What are you
gonna do to stop us? You don't have that hottie waitress to help you out this
time."
Scared, but knowing that he had no choice but to stand firm, Rory put on his
most fearsome face. "Leave the dog alone, now," he ordered harshly, boring his
eyes into the tallest boy's smirking face. "Don't make me kick ye'r arse." He
knew the threat was lame. Three boys against just him, a person who had not a
bone of violence in his body, he was as good as dead, but what else could he
say that would even begin to sound intimidating? If they attacked him, the
worst he could do to them was fall over and accidentally push one of them into
the trash bin.
The tall boy scoffed, his friends suddenly agitated. "Come on, Eric, let's just
get the fuck out of here before that faggot calls the cops or some shit," the
fat boy urged. "I'm sick of this bullshit."
Eric ignored him and started closing in on his new opponent. Before Rory could
react, Eric grabbed him by the shirt collar and shoved him up against one of
the large garbage cans. "He ain't callin' nobody. I'm gonna give him a nice fat
lip to shut that yap of his. Might even fix that speech problem he's got." True
to his word, he pulled his fist back, and seeing only a blur, Rory felt pain
exploding in his jaw. Twice. Three times. He could taste blood in his mouth.
Dizzied by the attack on his face, Rory didn't realize at first that his feet
were kicked out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground. He felt
pain in his breastbone as his full weight crashed down on his chest when he hit
the pavement. Blood dripped out of his mouth, coming from his bleeding lips. He
spat on the ground, afraid teeth were going to come flying out as well.
"You fuckers gonna help me out or what?" Eric bellowed to his cohorts. John
seemed to have no problem with the idea of beating a younger teenager, but the
fat boy was apprehensive, backing up slightly. "Don't be a pussy, Bill! Billy
boy!" Eric teased, trying to discourage his friend from chickening out.
More pain exploded in Rory's body as he felt shoes slamming into his side,
pushing him back against the trash bin. He was being kicked relentlessly, most
likely by two pairs of feet, but the pain was agonizing and his brain couldn't
think. All he could feel was pain.
There was a ringing in his head, and he felt something wet leaking down the
sides of his face, not just from his eyes, but from his ears as well. His head
exploded again as it slammed against the metal bin, and he could hear the faint
crack of his nose breaking, followed by another kick to the chest, another loud
cracking sound – one of his ribs giving way, probably. He was in so much agony,
his breath feeling so short and strained, he just knew that he was dying. There
was no way he would survive—he had lost too much blood, he was certain of it.
No way that amount of pain and injury couldn't be accompanied by massive blood
loss.
Something suddenly happened. Everything stopped. He felt no more kicking. Heard
no more shouting. I must have died. It's all over, he thought. His eyes were
swollen, and he could barely see, but he could make out something in front of
him. Streaks. Blurry images. What looked like people flying and then falling.
The only sound he heard was a sudden screaming, and then silence. More streaks,
and then he cried out in pain as something touched him.
Despite the misery, the sensation he felt was almost pleasant. He hadn't
expected it in the least. It felt like… flesh. Smooth, tender flesh. Cool
flesh. If he could shiver, he would have, or maybe he did, either way his body
didn't register anything but the touch. More pain suddenly shot through his
body as he was being moved. Whoever was touching him was turning him, pushing
him onto his back, something propping his head up. He coughed, blood coming up
and drooling down his chin.
"Rory… don't worry, you're safe now," came a familiar and soothing voice. A
face was hovering over him, one that was blurry through swollen eyes and tears,
but he could see what looked like light-colored hair. Blonde hair. Something
else stood out, something slightly darker than the rest of the pale face.
Something that made him think of lips. Full lips. Then he saw green. Two bright
green orbs above him, vivid and calming. He knew who it was by those eyes.
"Sam?" the wounded teen croaked out. "Am I… Am I gonna… I… I don't wanna die…
But I think I am." He shut his eyes, the brightness above him had started to
give him a headache. It was the light above the back door. "Sam, please don't
let me die."
Sam was surprisingly calm considering he was holding his new friend in his
arms, badly beaten to death. He brushed the hair from Rory's forehead, a
gesture that he felt necessary because he had seen similar in so many films
over the years.
"You're not gonna die. I promise you that," Sam assured him in the same
soothing tone he had used when he first spoke to the teen. "I can heal you." He
took his hand from Rory's forehead and brought his wrist to his mouth. Sam made
a faint grunt as drops of blood began to trickle down onto the boy's swollen
lips.
"Wh-what are ye' doing?" the teen asked, taking great pains to speak. He could
taste the coppery flavor of something unfamiliar. It was different from the
taste of his own blood. It was almost sweet underneath the metallic tang.
"Drink," Sam ordered in a firmer tone. "My blood, it can heal you. Drink. Now,"
he urged, putting his bleeding wrist to the boy's lips. He could feel Rory's
body beginning to quiver, beginning to lose heat.
"I don't wanna be a vampire…" Rory declared.
"You won't be, I swear. Stop wasting time. Drink." Sam ordered again. Before
the teen could protest again, Sam pressed his wrist firmly against Rory's
mouth. He could feel the boy's lips part ever so slightly, and then open as far
as he could manage given the circumstances. He could feel himself start to
weaken just a bit as his blood began to flow into the hungry mouth. The more
the liquid flowed, the more urgently the boy pulled the force of life into his
throat.
"There, good, keep drinking," Sam cooed softly. Rory lifted one of his arms and
wrapped his hand loosely around Sam's forearm, forcing the source of his
sustenance to stay locked against him as he feverishly drank.
The blonde grimaced as he felt the draining from his wrist. He pulled away from
the desperate mouth, his strength easily overtaking Rory's weak attempt at
keeping him close. "Okay, that's enough," he said firmly. He flexed his arm and
the self-inflicted wound quickly closed up, the only evidence a patch of red
where Rory had suckled. He gazed down at the teen, the color beginning to
return to his eyes, the swelling starting to lessen. The open wounds from the
attack sealed up, a very strange sensation. Rory felt like he was being
stitched up like a rag doll, except it didn't hurt. In fact, the pain that was
overtaking him only moment earlier was receding. It was subsiding so quickly it
began to disappear altogether.
"There we are," Sam said with a smile. He watched patiently as the final
effects of the blood healed his friend. "How do you feel?"
The brunette brought his hands to his chest. "Me chest. Me ribs, they feel
okay. E'erything feels okay. Me face doesn't hurt. I can see clear again. Me
headache is gone. I feel… great…" He licked his lips, tasting the last drops of
blood.
"Then let's sit you up. Lean up against the trashcan a minute, get yourself
together. I'm going to take a moment and heal this poor animal," Sam
instructed, helping the boy into a sitting position.
Despite feeling so good, the world still seemed out of sorts, sensations of not
understanding what was going on filling his head. He closed his eyes a moment,
breathing deeply, trying to relax.
Meanwhile, Sam slowly ambled toward the ailing pup that had backed itself up
into a corner between the metal bin and the back door. Sam could feel his body
weakening from the significant amount of blood he had given up. It was giving
him a headache but he remained stoic. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm
his young friend.
Sam bit his wrist once more, and then crouched down in front of the animal,
offering up his sustenance. The dog was obviously skeptical, staring at his
would-be healer. With a little more urging from the vampire, it began to lap at
the bloody wrist, drinking down the offering.
Rory wasn't sure how long he waited, but he opened his eyes when he felt
something slimy and wet at his hand. The dog. It was happily licking Rory's
hand, nudging him with its nose. Rory smiled as he petted the creature,
relieved to see that he, too, was safe and sound again.
"I think I might keep him. He might be a good companion, don't you think?" Sam
asked cheerfully. It wasn't normal for vampires to keep pets, but this one was
special. This one had its life saved by a boy who risked his own safety to
protect it. It deserved a good home. "A fantasy I suppose. He needs a family
who can walk him in the sunlight." He reached over and scratched the dog behind
the ears, the creature making a noise of satisfaction. "He probably belongs to
someone anyway. Keep an eye on him though, in case he does need a home."
"What did ye' do t'me? To the dog?" the teen asked, the animal settling into
his lap." We were both about to die, but now we're fine."
Sam grinned. "I healed you with my blood. Vampire blood is extremely powerful
to humans. And animals. It's life force, so to speak."
"It's amazing. I mean, at first it tasted like metal and sugar, but the more I
drank, the better it tasted. I couldn't believe I was drinking it, but it was…
addictive," the teen admitted, his eyes widening as his mouth turned up in a
slight grin. "It was like… e'erything I love to drink, all mixed together."
"That's why people want it. It's like a drug. People drain vampires and sell
the blood for an insane amount of money," Sam explained. "You just got a ton of
it, for free. The addicts would be jealous," he added with a grin. Rory looked
confused. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? No, of course you
don't. The only people that would know about that are fangbangers and addicts,
and of course the sellers and drainers."
"Fangbanger?"
"It's what they call people who have sex with vampires. Particularly ones that
let themselves be fed on, and that get high on vampire blood," Sam replied.
"I'm sorry; this is all so much for you, isn't it?" He caressed Rory's cheek
with the back of his hand, feeling the sticky, still-damp blood from the
assault. "You're a good person, Rory. You risked yourself for that animal.
You're willing to give a vampire a chance when nobody else will."
Rory smiled softly. "I just… I don't like people bein' judged, and I don't like
anyone, animal or human, to be hurt. Especially if they can't defend
themselves. It's not right."
Sam's eyes softened as he smiled again. He looked at the boy, his green eyes
glossing over his body as if checking to make sure the blood had fully healed
his friend.
"Healing… is… is that all it does, the blood?" Rory asked. "I'm not- it's not
gonna make me a… monster, right?" He regretted his choice of words immediately,
but it was too late—he had said something he knew had to be offensive.
"I am not a monster," Sam growled. Upon seeing the frightened look on the boy's
face, he sighed and apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Monster
is a pretty harsh thing to say, but I'll overlook that. You don't know any
better. But no, you're not gonna turn into a vampire, a zombie, or a magical
little fairy. There's more that has to happen before any changing occurs."
His face flushing, the teen stared down at the ground. "I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to insult ye'," he said. "Especially after ye' just saved me life. I swear
I didn't mean any harm."
Sam smiled and lifted the boy's chin with his fingertips. "It's okay. I'll
forgive you, but only because you're my friend." Rory smiled in response, his
eyes fully restored to their rich blue; Sam couldn't help but stare into them.
"I'm so sorry, Rory. I wish I'd gotten here sooner. By the time I heard
everything happening, it was too late to stop it. I hate to think of what would
have happened if I didn't hear anything at all," Sam lamented. His friend
looked at him with great confusion. "I could sense something was wrong. I
didn't know what, but I was sitting at home, and got this… feeling. Like
something was wrong. I didn't understand it at first, but somehow I just knew
you needed help. I've never felt something like that before. I'll be able to
sense you now that you've had my blood, but before that, I can't explain it."
"All that matters is that ye' came at all." They sat there, smiling at each
other, staring into one another's eyes. After a moment, Sam scrunched up his
face, confusion awash over his features. "What's wrong?" Rory inquired.
"I… it isn't working," Sam frowned. "Don't be upset, but, I was trying to erase
the memory of this entire thing happening. I didn't want you to have to
remember something so awful, but it wasn't working. It was like… Usually when a
vampire initiates a glamour, you're drawn into my eyes, put in a trance, but
with you, it just wasn't taking hold. A fish that refuses to bite the lure so
to speak. I don't know how else to explain it," Sam said, searching the boy's
face for signs of anger. Instead he found relief.
"I couldn't read ye' either," Rory admitted. "When I touch people, I can see
their memories if I want to. Well, sort of if I want to. Sometimes it just
happens. When ye' touched me the other night, I couldn't see ye'. It was like
nothing was there to look at. No flood o' images filling me head, no unwanted
information. Just silence. It was… nice."
The corner of Sam's mouth began to turn upward. "Looks like there's more to you
than meets the eye, Rory." The teen blushed as if he were being complimented or
something. Sam took a glance down at his watch. "It's late. You need to get
home. Perhaps we can discuss your ability further another time, if you wish."
Rory nodded. "What about me clothes? I'm covered in blood. E'eryone will want
t'know what happened," he said, worried.
The vampire reached over to stroke the boy's hair. "Don't worry. I'll take you
to my home, and you can change, wash up if you desire. I have clothes that
should fit you. If you're okay with coming to my home, that is. I'll understand
if you're not comfortable coming to my house alone."
Rory stood up, off balance at first, but got his bearings back rather quickly.
"I've had ye'r blood in me body. Ye' saved me from dying. If ye' wanted to hurt
me, ye'd 'ave left me t'die. I trust ye'." He held out his hand to assist Sam
in standing up, the older man relieved.
"Thank you," Sam said. "Now, get in my arms, and hold onto me. We've got a ways
to go, and I'm gonna get us there in vampire speed." Rory raised an eyebrow
skeptically, but as he said, he trusted Sam, so he allowed himself to be
cradled in the man's arms, wrapping his own around Sam's neck. He then felt a
rush of air and everything went blurry before his eyes. He closed them, the
rushing scenery dizzying him slightly. It wasn't until they arrived at their
destination that the world seemed to return to a normal speed.
-ooo-
Once they arrived at Sam's home, the vampire gave him spare clothes to wear,
and offered his bathroom for him to wash up in. Sam politely let him have his
privacy, taking advantage of the time to rest himself. He had already felt
weakened after rescuing Rory and the dog, but the mad dash home was almost too
much. He leaned back in his recliner and closed his eyes.
"I'm all cleaned up," Rory announced, coming into the room. "I left me clothes
in the sink, just like ye' said to." Sam opened his eyes and stood upon the
boy's entrance, looking him over, pleased.
"You look much better now. The clothes fit nicely. I wish you could stay, but I
need to get you home right away, before anyone gets worried," Sam informed him,
his voice laced with sadness.
Rory closed the distance between them and took Sam's hand, looking up at him.
"Thank ye', Sam, for e'erything. I'm so lucky to 'ave ye' as a friend. Not just
for the rescue and the blood, but because ye'r so… genuine."
Since becoming a vampire, it was very rare that Sam ever felt anything but
confident, but with this young teenager, with his beautiful sapphire eyes, his
pleasant smile, Sam couldn't help but let nervousness creep into his body.
Sam snapped out of his light daze as he felt Rory's arms wrap around him in a
tight hug. At first it surprised him, but then he relaxed, letting himself
enjoy the strong embrace.
"Alright, time for you to hold on again. When we get there, I'll drop you off a
couple of houses down so nobody sees us. You can tell your family that a friend
gave you a ride, but didn't have time to stay," Sam directed.
Rory nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. I hope I don't get Brittany in
trouble. She means well, but she can be a little… unreliable." Both of them
chuckled, the sentiment funny to Sam even though he knew nothing about the girl
except that she was apparently supposed to see him home but never showed.
The teen let himself be cradled in Sam's arms once again, holding on for dear
life. Within minutes they arrived at the street Brittany's family lived on, and
as planned, Sam let him down two houses away.
As Rory began to walk away, he paused before he even got ten feet. "Sam? Our
dinner Friday night… can we make it a date?"
Sam smiled wide, one side of his lips higher than the other. "I'd love that.
I'm glad you still want to go."
"O' course I want to go. Ye'r me friend, remember?" He smiled, his eyes
twinkling in the moonlight. "Good night, Sam. Thank ye' again, for e'erything,"
the teen said, turning again and walking away as Sam waved to him. The vampire
didn't leave until he saw that Rory was safely in the house, and even then he
hesitated a minute before going back to his own home, albeit at a much slower
pace. He was going to need a pick-me-up when he got there and a day's sleep to
restore his strength. Despite the enfeeblement he was feeling, he was happy.
Rory was worth every bit of it.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 2: Learning Curve *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. It was a
     lot of fun to write! I bet if you are a True Blood fan, it was
     instantly obvious to you which characters are parallels to which.
     There's gonna be more characters introduced this time, and it will
     start to break away from the TB plotlines a little more by the end of
     the story. At the time of this writing, I still hadn't decided
     exactly how long this was gonna be, but it didn't take long for me to
     decide it was going to be a full length tale, so hang in there with
     me!
      
     Beta Credit: Ragnarok45, TVTime
Season 1, Episode 2: Learning Curve
Joe Hart was captivated by the voice he heard in the night. It was
beautiful—the voice was inhumanly perfect—singing a song that was tantalizingly
familiar; every time he thought he'd placed it, the thought slipped from his
grasp. Perhaps it was from a dream? Whatever the case, the echoing sound
drifted in through his bedroom window, grabbing his attention and forcing him
out of bed.
Having snuck out of his home through the open window, the teen began to walk in
the direction the sound seemed to be coming from, his feet carrying him forward
seemingly of their own accord. He was becoming lost, but something made him not
care, the same 'something' that made him ignore the sharp stinging in the soles
of his feet as he stepped on debris in the road.
"Why am I at the high school?" he asked the night air, regaining his faculties
as his journey came to a close at McKinley High School, right outside the
entrance to the gym. The only light came from the single bulb above the door,
the only noise the chirp of cicadas. The singing had stopped, but when had that
happened?
Joe crept around the school grounds, peeking through the windows, even trying
the doorknobs to see if he could get in. He had to get in there, the source of
the melodic voice was inside, even if he could no longer hear it; he
just knew it was in there. It was calling for him.
"Hello," came a very soft whisper behind him. It sounded airy, light, and
feminine. Joe should have felt a chill down his spine, fear inside of him, but
no, he felt none of that. Instead it was a type of euphoria that came over him.
"Hi," he said, turning around. Whoever had spoken to him had disappeared.
Perhaps he had imagined it? No, he had definitely heard a woman's voice speak
to him.
Joe was startled when he felt the gentle touch of fingertips on his shoulder.
He spun around quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of whomever was there. What
he saw was a woman, her face in permanent shadow. He could see her hair
fluttering in the wind - her long, flowing hair. It was too dark for him to see
what she was wearing - her entire body nothing more than a shrouded, ghostly
form. The only thing that kept him from thinking she wasn't real was the fact
that she still had her arm outstretched, her fingers brushing against his bare
shoulder, rubbing her thumb across the hem of his tank top.
Before Joe had time to ask any questions, or even speak at all, the human form
sidled up next to him, placing her shadowed lips next to his ear. She began to
sing softly to him, but then the noise began to amplify. It was intoxicating
yet painful as it got louder and louder. It got quieter for a moment as his
eardrums ruptured, blood starting to trickle down the sides of his face. His
head hurt immensely, not just from the bursting, but it was as if his brain was
being squeezed the way one would squeeze a sponge.
Joe wanted to cover his ears, grab his head, fall to his knees, but something
wouldn't let him. He couldn't bring himself to move, despite the fact that
every nerve in his body was on fire, vibrating like a tuning fork. He could
move his eyes, just enough to look downward and observe his skin stretching
dangerously taut, his veins threatening to escape his skin. His muscles went
rigid, locking his bones in place as they vibrated and cracked in loud snaps.
His organs liquefied, leaking out with the blood, staining his flesh black and
brown.
By the time Joe Hart was free to collapse to the ground, the mess that had once
been a teenaged boy with long dreadlocks resembled no more than an old black
mop on a stack of crimson towels and sludge.
"You're insane! You can't go out on a date with him!" screeched Mercedes, her
voice echoing from the kitchen out to the bar. "He's a vampire; he just wants
to drink you dry, or keep you as his pet, or something vulgar like that!"
The sight of the stout woman waving her arms around, her large chest bouncing
as she spoke would have been hilarious had she not been yelling admonishments
at her co-worker and friend.
"I'm only gonna tell ye' one more time, Mercedes, he's not a bad man. He's nice
and wants to be friends. There's nothing wrong with that," Rory insisted,
spinning around from the freezer to face the woman. "B'sides, I'll date whoever
I want to date, and if I want to go on a date with a vampire, I will," he added
firmly.
"Kurt, help me out here, would you? Rory is going on a date with that blonde-
haired vampire seducer and he refuses to listen to reason," Mercedes pleaded as
Kurt came back into the kitchen, wanting to see what all the noise was about.
Kurt's face went from one of curiosity to one of anger. "Are you suicidal, or
just stupid?" His hands were on his hips like a mother admonishing her child,
except everyone knew that an upset Kurt was more vicious than any angry parent.
He raised his finger in his young friend's face, about to go on, but Rory
interrupted him.
"I'm not suicidal and I'm not stupid. Now if ye' two don't leave me the hell
alone about it, I'll go to Mike and see if he can put a stop to ye'r
noisemakin'," the young teen announced, arms crossed, glaring from one person
to the other. When their looks of shock told him that they'd gotten the point,
he stomped out of the kitchen, making his way up front to see if there were any
customers.
Mercedes and Kurt exchanged worried looks. "He never talks like that. Hell,
he's never that assertive, either," the teen woman said quietly. "Or
coordinated for that matter. I have yet to see him knock over a bottle of
ketchup or trip on his own two feet."
"I know. I bet the vampire already has him under his spell. That glamouring or
whatever they call it," Kurt replied, peering out into the restaurant. Just as
he had expected, Rory was standing at the back table, taking the blonde
vampire's order, flirtatious smiles on both of their faces. "I just hope he
doesn't get in trouble with this guy."
"If he so much as harms a hair on his perfectly gelled head, I will personally
drive a stake right through his dead heart," Mercedes growled. Kurt couldn't
help but grin at her theatrics.
"Unless I get to him first. Let's just keep an eye out for now. Making a scene
might make it worse," the barista cautioned. Though his words seemed rational,
the look of hatred in his eyes was anything but.
"It looks like ye'll be me nightly customer," Rory winked as he approached the
table Sam was sitting at. "Glad I will 'ave at least one table e'ery night."
"Is that a bad thing? Would you like me to leave?" Sam replied playfully,
smiling.
Rory arched an eyebrow. He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice
conspiratorially. "I'd ne'er ask ye' to leave. Especially after last night.
Ye'r like me own bodyguard."
"How do you feel, anyway?" Sam inquired, keeping his voice purposely low and
avoiding eye contact with anyone but Rory.
A wide smile spread across the teen's lips. "I feel wonderful. I 'ave all this
energy, and I feel... I feel stronger, if that makes any sense."
Sam reached out and touched the boy's hand. Rory didn't recoil, a pleasant
gesture for them both. "Don't get too used to that, my friend. It's very
temporary. An effect of the blood. You'll probably notice a few other effects
as well."
"Like what?"
Sam stared deep into the ocean blue eyes looking at him. "Heightened senses.
Better hearing and sense of smell. Increase in agility and endurance. Increased
physical strength, and..." He trailed off, the look on his face shifting to one
of desire.
"Increased physical strength and what?" Rory asked, never one to miss out on a
detail such as that. "What else is there? Is it something bad?" He suddenly
appeared worried; concerned that he may be danger.
The vampire chuckled lightly. "No, it's nothing bad. It's actually quite good,
depending on how you look at it." He paused, considering a polite way to phrase
the effect. "It's increased libido."
Rory broke eye contact with him. "Libido? What's that?" he questioned just
slightly louder than he meant to. Realizing his error, he quickly hushed
himself and leaned back down. "Sorry. But what's libido? What's it do?"
Sam couldn't help but laugh at the boy's innocence. "It's, well it's ah, let me
see how can I explain this properly? Libido, it's what makes you aroused.
Sexually," he stated, trying to keep himself under control. "Put simply, it
increases your sex drive."
Rory turned deep red at the mention of sex. "Wait, ye' mean I...? Oh me God,
It's gonna make me...? I'm so embarrassed!" He blurted out. He began to feel a
light tingling in his loins, but as he became more apologetic, it faded.
"Don't be ashamed, Rory. Sexual arousal is a natural part of existence. There's
nothing to be embarrassed about. On top of that, the effect doesn't last long
either, but in the meantime you might find yourself wanting physical contact a
little more than usual," the blonde went on to explain. "Perhaps even the
simple need to… have some gentleman's time alone, if you get my meaning."
"Oh, okay," Rory said softly, clearly still shy about the topic but
understanding exactly what Sam was referring to by time alone. In an attempt to
change the subject, he excused himself to retrieve Sam's drink, hoping that
when he returned, Sam would be ready to discuss something else. Besides, it
didn't matter about this libido thing anyway: he was still a virgin, a
teenager, and a guy. His libido was strong enough as it was, but if he managed
to keep it under control already, he figured he could handle the enhancement.
-ooo-
Fifteen minutes before closing, Mike asked Rory to come into his office. Tina
offered to finish his cleanup, which made him all the more nervous. The only
time anyone ever needed to go to Mike's office was because they were in
trouble, or they needed to ask for time off, and since he had no vacation
planned, it meant he had to be in some sort of trouble, but for what?
Rory knocked on the door, waiting to be invited in. Mike ushered him inside,
asking him to close the door. Closing the door didn't make the Irishman any
less nervous - in fact it only set him more on edge.
"Go ahead and have a seat. We need to talk a minute," Mike said in a friendlier
tone than Rory had expected. "You're not in trouble, you know," he said, noting
the boy's trembling hands. "I just want to talk about this friend of yours. The
vampire."
Rory sighed heavily, feeling foolish for not expecting this topic to be the one
in question. "His name is Sam. Can ye' please call him by his name? It sounds
so mean to call him 'the vampire' all the time," Rory asked quietly.
"Sure, sorry about that. I didn't know his name. Anyway, I want to talk about
your new friendship with Sam," Mike announced. The look on his face may have
been friendly, but his tone was firm and mature.
"He's a good man, Mike. I promise. He can't glamour me, either, just like I
can't see inside his head. Neither one of us knows why. Somehow we're immune to
each other," Rory explained confidently. He knew that he needed to muster up
every ounce of assertiveness that he had within him in order to convince Mike
not to be concerned. "It's refreshing, and… it makes me feel normal."
Mike scratched his chin, looking over the boy. He had long since given up on
convincing the boy that he was indeed normal, just gifted. "Rory, you're young,
impressionable. You see only the good in people. That can be very dangerous
when we have vampires running around. You need to be cautious, no matter how
'normal' it makes you feel."
Rory scrunched up his eyebrows, suddenly angry. "What are ye' trying to say,
Mike? That I'm not responsible enough to make me own choices in friends?" he
demanded, raising his voice slightly.
"No, I just mean that you need to be careful. Vampires—people are dangerous.
You have to be careful who you trust," Mike said calmly. He had a surprising
sense of control considering his employee had just started to talk back to him.
"I can't tell you who to be friends with, but I want you to promise me
something."
"Okay, what is it?"
"Promise me that you'll be careful. At the first sign of trouble, run away.
Call for help. Wear some silver around your neck. Don't go home with him, stay
out in public. If you're in public, he probably won't do anything," Mike
begged. He had given up on ordering Rory to do anything; he knew that would
only irritate the teenager and probably drive him even further into the
vampire's—Sam's—arms.
Rory half-smiled. "I'll be fine. I'll promise ye' that. I'm safe with him. If
anything happens, ye' can tell me 'I told ye' so' until ye' turn blue." He
stood up, signaling that he was ready to drop the conversation altogether.
Mike nodded, sighing. It was the best he would get from the kid. He stood up
and followed Rory out of the office, back into the bar, where Kurt was locking
the doors and Tina was already wiping down tables.
The Asian woman walked up to him and slipped a bill in his hand. "Here, your
boyfriend-to-be left this for you. I wish my customers treated me that well."
Rory smiled, not even looking at the amount of the bill—it was a
twenty—stuffing it in his pocket. "I could let ye' wait on him if ye' need some
money," he offered.
Tina giggled. "Thanks, but I wouldn't dream of taking away your favorite
customer. I doubt he'd leave me such a good tip, either. Apparently girls
aren't his type."
"I doubt that's why he leaves me those tips," Rory argued with a chuckle.
"Well, you do give some stellar service, I must say." They exchanged smiles at
her compliment. "Go on, I got the tables. Go balance out your tickets so you
can go home. It's inventory night, so I'll be here with Mike late anyway."
"Thanks, Tina. I appreciate it," the teen said, walking toward the register. He
couldn't help but find it odd that Mike seemed so wary of Sam, and vampires in
general, yet Tina was not only more open minded, but she even encouraged him.
Sometimes the Asian couple could be total opposites, but they never showed one
bit of discontent with each other.
-ooo-
As Sam had promised, he picked Rory up exactly on time. He actually owned a
vehicle, much to the boy's surprise. After the super-speed trip from Sam's to
his own home, Rory had just assumed Sam ran everywhere he needed to go.
Instead, the vampire drove an old Ford truck. It had to be from the 80's, but
there was a certain charm about riding in an old style vehicle – one that was
older than Rory himself.
"Shouldn't I meet your parents before we go? It's the proper thing to do, isn't
it?" Sam asked as Rory emerged from the front door of his home, dressed in
khaki pants and a light green polo shirt.
The teen shook his head. "They aren't me parents. I just stay here. Me family
is back at home, in Ireland." He followed Sam to the truck, where the older man
politely opened the door for him, helping him climb up inside.
"So, you're from Ireland," Sam stated. "How long are you staying here in
America?" he asked as he crawled into the truck himself. Rory hadn't seen him
zip from one side of the vehicle to the other, moving so fast he may as well
have teleported.
"Until graduation. I'm a junior this fall, so I 'ave two years until I go home.
It's really lonely, ye' know. I mean, I 'ave me friends here, but I miss me
family so much back home," the teen lamented.
Sam smiled. "I could always get you there, if you wanted. I can buy you plane
tickets when you need them, and then you could visit your family." He reached
down and started up the truck, putting it into gear.
Rory grinned but politely declined. "I couldn't do that. It's way too
expensive, and e'eryone would ask questions. I'm not sure me family would
approve of me being friends with a vampire," he said, lowering his eyes. "I'm
sorry, we should talk about happy things. I don't want to ruin our date talking
about stuff like that."
Sam slid his hand over and placed it on top of Rory's. His hand was cool, but
not icy the way most people claimed vampire skin to be. It felt great to feel
the touch of another person without fear of drawing out their memories. "You're
right," Sam agreed. "Tell me more about this… ability of yours. I'm quite
intrigued."
"It's kind o'weird. I mean, I touch people, and I can see into their heads,"
the teen began. Sam listened intently, but kept his eyes on the road, his hand
on Rory's. "For as far back as I can remember, anytime my skin would make
contact with someone else's, I couldn't control it. I saw so much I ne'er
wanted to. It was really disturbing as a wee one. Findin' out me fourth grade
teacher was into weird, kinky sexual things was just too much. I ne'er looked
at her the same after that."
"That would definitely upset me, too. That falls into the 'too much
information' area. So you're like a mind reader?"
Rory scrunched up his face. "Sort o'like that. I can't see what's goin' on in
their mind right at the moment. I can see their memories. Thoughts they already
had, things they remember. I can't tell what they're thinking right then."
Sam thought a moment. "Have you ever tried? To read their thoughts, I mean.
What they're currently thinking."
The Irish teen nodded his head. "I tried, but it just doesn't happen. It's like
reading a book, except I'm always a page behind. I can't see the page they're
on, and I can't see the next page, but I can see anything before. Well, almost
anything. The flashes aren't always real clear. Sometimes it's random memories,
other times just random thoughts. If the memory is really clear, really
detailed, it plays kind o' like a movie. Otherwise it's like a slide show."
"And for some odd reason when you try to look into my head, nothing happens,
right?"
Rory nodded again. "I touch ye' and there's nothin' t'read, like an empty book.
No thoughts, no memories, just emptiness. I can usually block out someone if I
concentrate, but I'm not concentrating with ye'. I know ye' 'ave to 'ave
memories in there, I just can't get to them if that makes sense to ye'."
Sam chuckled. "Maybe there's just nothing in there to see. I never was the
brightest vampire around," he joked. Rory looked at him strangely, not
understanding his joke. "I'm kidding. Maybe your ability just doesn't work on
vampires, and since you never met one before, it's the first time you've
noticed something different."
"Could me ability be the same reason ye' can't cast a spell on me? That… mind
control thing?" the teen asked nervously.
"Maybe. It's not a spell, though. It's called glamouring, and it's an innate
ability to vampires, much like your own memory reading. We have to be taught
how to do it though, and practice to get skilled with it. All it is though, is
we just plant suggestions in your mind, making you think something that isn't
real," Sam explained.
"I guess it's a good thing ye' can't glamour me then, because if ye' could, I
couldn't 'ave accepted ye'r date because I actually wanted to."
Sam smiled mischievously. "That's a very good point. However, if I recall
correctly, we were just going as friends. It was you who wanted it to be a
date. I can't influence you, so I guess that's a good sign."
Rory's face turned bright red and he began to perspire with nervousness. "I… I
don't really do that, I just… somethin' made me want to do it. Made me want to
ask ye' to make it a date. If ye' can't glamour me, though, then I must really
be interested in… in maybe being a little more than friends."
"Perhaps so. We'll find out. You need to spend time with someone before you
know if you like them or not. Spend some time with me, and we can find out
together," Sam said cheerfully. "Of course, only do what you're comfortable
with. If you choose not to go out again, don't feel afraid. I won't pressure
you into anything. I really would like to make a friend of you. If it turns
into something more, that's wonderful, but if not, I hope we can still be
friends." He removed his hand from Rory's and took control of the gearshift,
pulling the truck into a parking space and cutting the engine.
"We're here?" Rory asked, noticing they had arrived at BreadStiX. "I didn't
know they served Tru Blood here."
"Oh, I checked. They do. There will most likely even be other vampires here."
Sam got out of the truck and, in a flash, was opening Rory's door for him,
offering his hand to assist him out of the vehicle. "I hear they also have some
amazing Italian food, as well as old fashioned American cuisine."
Ever the gentleman, Sam held the door open for his date, stood until Rory had
slid into his seat at the table, and let him order first. Having never been on
a date before, Rory wasn't used to such treatment, and it was refreshing to
experience compared to always having to watch everyone else being treated so
special.
The waitress gave the pair a funny look as Sam ordered a Tru Blood while Rory
ordered actual food. They exchanged pleasant conversation while they waited-Sam
inquiring about Rory's studies in America, his home back in Ireland, his
family. The teen appeared a little saddened as he thought about home, but
quickly cheered up again when he felt Sam's cool hand on his across the
tabletop.
"So, ye've asked me all about me home and e'erything, but I don't know much
about ye'. It's ye'r turn to tell me about ye'." Rory said inquisitively. "How
old are ye'?
Sam chuckled. "Well that was abrupt. I'm one hundred and seventy years old."
The much younger teen's jaw dropped, his eyes wide. It was common knowledge
they were often quite old, but the realization that Sam really was over a
hundred years old was just hitting the teen. "Vampires keep their physical
appearance the same as when they were made. Physically we never age. I suppose
you could say I'm lucky—at least I was turned still looking youthful."
"I would ne'er know ye' were so old. Ye' only look seventeen or eighteen at
most," Rory said. He considered what he had just said and quickly backpedaled.
"Not to say ye'r old but I mean, well, just, well," he continued to stumble
over his words, fearing he may have offended the man, but Sam simply smiled.
"It's okay, I know what you meant. a hundred-seventy isn't exactly young. I was
born in 1843 and made vampire in 1860. I doubt you have living grandparents
that old," the blonde joked. As soon as he said it he realized just how creepy
it sounded, but it must not have bothered Rory, who was laughing heartily at
the comment.
When the waitress finally arrived with their orders, Rory dug into his food
right away as Sam casually sipped his Tru Blood, which the waitress had poured
into a large glass mug with the restaurant logo on it.
"Uh, Sam, can I ask ye' something?" the teen inquired. Sam nodded, signaling
for him to continue. "That Tru Blood, does it taste like real blood? Can ye'
tell it isn't real blood? Does it come in different flavors?"
Sam chuckled at the slew of questions, amused by the boy's open curiosity. "It
tastes close enough. Nothing will ever taste like real blood. Just like a
strawberry flavored drink will never taste as good as a real strawberry. I can
tell it isn't real blood though—not because of the taste, but it doesn't have
the same... energy to it." Rory scrunched up his eyebrows. "Energy, as in life
force. When a vampire drinks human blood, there is a certain thing in it, a
nutrient you could call it,that has a certain taste—a certain feeling—that you
can't get with Tru Blood. It has to be genuine."
"A nutrient?"
"It's hard to explain. Think of it like caffeine. Your body has a slightly
different reaction to caffeinated soda, which is artificial, as opposed to
coffee, which has natural caffeine in it. Maybe it's something only vampires
can relate to. As for flavors, it comes in blood types. A, B, AB, O, positive,
negative, they all taste a little different, much like teas taste different,"
the vampire explained casually. As he sipped the liquid some more, he noticed
Rory staring at the mug inquisitively. "Do you want to taste it?"
Rory seemed startled by the offer despite the fact it was obvious he was
curious to try the synthetic beverage. It couldn't possibly be much different
than the taste of actual blood, which he had already had a healthy portion of
nights before. In fact, that taste had been oddly pleasant at the time. "Is it
gonna do the same thing to me that ye'r blood did? The senses and strength and…
stuff?"
Sam shook his head, an amused smile crossing his features. "No. For one, this
is meant to simulate human blood, and even if was made to taste like vampire's,
it lacks the actual 'nutrients' in the vampire blood that cause the bodily
reactions. That's why people sell it as a drug; because they want the real
thing, the stuff that gives them the sensations they're looking for."
"Ye' mean the same things that I felt after I drank ye'r blood?"
Sam nodded. "Of course, it usually acts like more of an aphrodisiac, but
perhaps you're different. Whatever gives you your special ability might be
lessening those kinds of effects perhaps. Thankfully, whatever it is that gives
you your ability didn't interfere with the accelerated healing. I'd be quite
sad if you hadn't made it."
Rory cocked his head to the side, not even bothering to ask what 'aphrodisiac'
meant but more interested in Sam's last comment. "Ye' would?"
"Yes. I don't like to see people being hurt, especially people who are kind. I
may be a vampire, and my kind has a history of murder and death, but I long ago
abandoned that and prefer to live in society," Sam explained. He sipped his
drink once more, and then pushed it over to his date. "You wanted to try it,
right?"
"Yeah, just a tiny bit," the teen replied. He put down his fork and took hold
of the mug with both hands. He brought it closer to his face, his big blue eyes
watching Sam. His lips touched the edge and he very cautiously tipped it up so
he could get just the smallest bit into his mouth.
The beverage was hot. He hadn't expected ninety-eight point six to feel quite
so warm. He drew some of the liquid into his mouth, Sam watching him intently,
awaiting a reaction. He got what he was searching for as Rory scrunched up his
face and quickly set the mug down on the table, grimacing.
Sam chuckled lightly. "Not the same as my blood, is it? Curiosity quelled?"
Rory nodded his head vigorously. Sam handed him a napkin and motioned for him
to wipe his lips. Rory pushed the mug back to the other side of the table as if
it were toxic, accepting the napkin and wiping his mouth clean.
"Ne'er gonna try that again! It was awful! It was worse than me own blood when
I bite me lip!" he exclaimed. He then picked up his own glass and chugged down
half of the soda. Sam giggled, amused. They sat in silence for a few minutes as
Rory continued to eat his meal, happy to get the dreadful flavor out of his
mouth.
"I see you have recovered from your blood adventure," the blonde joked when
Rory finally finished eating and slid his plate aside.
"Yeah, that's an adventure I ne'er want to repeat! I could ne'er survive bein'
a vampire if I had t'drink that stuff." Rory took another sip of his beverage
before continuing. "Anyway, Sam, tell me about ye'r life before being a
vampire. What was it like back in the early years?" The question seemed both
random yet logical and was a wonderful way to change the topic from the taste
of blood types to something slightly less supernatural.
Sam laughed. "There really isn't much to tell. It's not that exciting. My
family consisted of farmers in what is now Nashville, Tennessee. I grew up
doing chores first thing in the morning, going to school until the afternoon,
and coming home to help with the farm until supper, when momma would make a
nice meal and then I'd do my homework, maybe help with the kids. When I was
taken out of school, I worked the farm full time with my father."
"Ye' had siblings? Why did ye' leave school?"
"Yeah. Two. A brother and a sister. Stacy was six and Steven was eight. Mom
already had Stacy out helping feed the hens and collect the eggs. Steven would
help with milking the cows and feeding some of the other animals. Papa and I,
we did all the hard labor," the much older teenager went on. "I stopped school
because my father needed so much help with the farm. It was really big, and
required a lot of constant work."
Rory looked thoughtful a moment, trying to imagine what it must have been like.
He pictured a typical farmhouse with a barn, animals all over the place, and
Sam and faceless family members moving about, doing their tasks. "What did ye'
do for fun? Ye' had to 'ave some spare time, didn't ye'?"
Sam grinned. "Yeah, I got some spare time, but not much. My dad would let me
have a few hours on Saturdays and then aside from feeding the animals, we
didn't do any hard labor on Sundays, the Lord's day. That's when I'd get to see
friends and have family time."
"What did ye' do?"
"Me and my friends? We'd play sports in the empty fields. Go swimming in the
lake. Run around the woods, wrestle about," Sam replied. He then gave a
mischievous grin as he disclosed some of his less innocent acts. "Sometimes
we'd smoke a little herbs, talk about girls, release some tension. Most of the
time we just hung around, maybe shot off some rifles at cans for practice."
Rory raised an eyebrow. "Girls?"
"Yeah. Back then I was into girls. I even had relations with a few. It wasn't
until I became vampire that I explored outside the realm of simple things with
girls. I got more... adventurous." Sam thought back on his human life, back
when things were hard. Well, harder. Life was hard as a vampire, too, but there
were certain freedoms he could enjoy that he couldn't as a human. Freedom in
general, but he missed his family. That was the hardest part - having to leave
his family behind.
"How did ye'... ye' know, become a vampire?" Rory asked next. Sam knew the
question was coming up, but he had no desire to discuss it, not now. He knew
the boy was only curious - being sixteen and meeting his first vampire, of
course he had a lot of questions. Sam couldn't be mad at that, but it was also
bringing to light some sad memories for him. He almost wished Rory could just
touch him and read his memories like the boy could with humans. Of course that
would mean they wouldn't have as much to talk about.
Sam sighed lightly. "Can we not talk about that right now? It's kind of
unpleasant, and we're having such a nice time. I'll tell you about it another
time, I promise."
Rory smiled and nodded. "That's okay. I don't want to bring up anything bad for
ye'."
"So we've chewed the fat over my past, now tell me about yours. Tell me what
life was like for you growing up and how it is now. I imagine it's vastly
different being a teenager now than it was in my time. Tell me all about it."
For the rest of their time at the restaurant, Sam asked Rory the same questions
- what it was like at home, what his family was like, how he entertained
himself. The boy had already told him about school and minor details about his
family, but Sam wanted to know more. He asked Rory to recall as early as he
could from his childhood, where he had grown up, everything. When it came down
to it though, things weren't vastly different as far as concept. Rory, too, had
chores, went to school, spent time with family and friends. The main difference
was the fact that Rory and his friends played with electronics like video games
instead of shooting tin cans off of fence posts and they certainly didn't smoke
or release tension together.
When the check came, Sam wasted no time in snatching up the bill, even as Rory
began to dig through his wallet. "This is my treat. It's a date, and I asked
you out, so I pay the bill." He smiled as Rory opened his mouth to politely
argue and remind Sam who had actually requested it to be a date, but Sam placed
his finger on the boy's lips to silence him.
No sooner had they returned to Sam's truck and gotten buckled in, than Sam's
phone rang. He took his phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID.
"Excuse me, I have to take this. I'm sorry," he said in an apologetic tone.
Rory just shrugged, smiled, and looked out of the window, trying not to pay
attention to his friend's conversation. Unfortunately he couldn't help but pick
up Sam's end of the exchange. Apparently he was speaking to someone named
Sebastian, who wasn't concerned with what Sam was doing at the moment, and
wanted him right away. When Sam terminated the call, he was visibly distressed.
"E'erything okay?" Rory inquired, turning to face the man beside him.
The blonde put his fingers against his forehead and sighed. "Rory, I'm very
sorry, but I'm afraid we have to cut the date portion short. I've just gotten a
call from the sheriff, and he needs me to meet him urgently."
"That's okay, I understand. I didn't know ye' were friends with the sheriff
though. Does he know ye'r a vampire?" the teen asked innocently.
Sam laughed. "He's a vampire sheriff. They're in charge of this area. Every
state is split up into areas, each with a sheriff. It's like the local
government sort of. They keep order. And I would not say we are friends. If
anything, I dislike him very much, but I have no choice but to answer to him.
When a sheriff makes a 'request', you don't ignore it."
"Oh," Rory replied, blushing at his own ignorance. "I'm sure I'll see ye' again
soon though, right?"
"You aren't going home yet. I'm sorry. When he says immediately, he means
immediately. Your home is in the opposite direction of where we need to go.
I'll have to bring you with me."
The young teen shrugged again. "Okay. I don't mind. It could be fun. Where are
we going anyway?"
Sam sighed once again. "It's... a bar. A vampire bar, called Scandals. The
sheriff owns it and his progeny runs it with him." Sam had already put the
truck in gear and was driving as he explained what was about to go on. "A
progeny is what we call someone a vampire creates. It means that she was turned
vampire by him, and so she is forever connected to him."
"In a way that almost sounds kind of… like slavery," Rory said, frowning. Sam
shook his head.
"No, it's not slavery. It's more like parent to child. Except a progeny often
has a physical, even loving relationship with their maker. Anyway, listen to
me, okay? As long as you're with me, you're safe. Don't go wandering around on
your own, don't talk to anyone, just stay right by my side," the vampire
instructed.
Rory's eyes suddenly showed nothing but intense fear. "Is this
place that dangerous? Are ye' sure I should go in? What if I waited in the
truck?"
"No. You are not waiting outside. You'll be fine if you stay by my side and
keep quiet," the blonde repeated sternly. He looked over from the road to see
the brunette had a hurt look on his face—the look of someone feeling shunned.
Sam softened up. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you, or talk to you like a
little kid. I don't like going to Scandals, to be honest. Sebastian is a
pompous ass, and his progeny is kind of… not nice. I just don't want anything
to happen to you before our next date."
The young teen's eyes perked up. "A second date? Ye' really want a second
date?" he asked enthusiastically.
"Yes, very much. A second, and a third, and maybe more. Right now, I just have
to see what Sebastian wants with me, and get through this little visit," Sam
said. His friend smiled and watched the trees passing by the window, a
comfortable silence between them as they both mulled over the idea of spending
more time together.
Rory sighed happily as he felt Sam's cool fingers reaching out to intertwine
with his own. Reassurance and affection, two things Rory knew he was going to
need to get through the night.
-ooo-
Still keeping up with his gentlemanly routine, Sam opened the door to let Rory
out of the truck, taking his hand and holding on. "You're with me, so nobody
should ask any questions." Rory wasn't sure what to make of that statement but
he shook it off and stayed by Sam's side, gripping his hand nervously.
The door to Scandals was guarded by a tallish, round woman who was sitting on a
stool, reading of all things, a science textbook. Her shirt had her name
stitched on the fabric—Beiste. She nodded at Sam, obviously familiar with the
vampire, but said nothing as they went inside. Rory's eyes went wide as he
observed the various goings on in the building. Colored strobes flashed in
various patterns as numerous male and female strippers danced erotically on
poles mounted atop tall platforms. The women were topless, while both genders
wore bottom garments that barely covered anything at all. His cheeks turned
pink as one of the topless women met eyes with him and winked, reaching up and
caressing her breast.
Rory moved his eyes to the opposite side of the room only to see a long bar
with more dancers on the counter, the bartenders conducting business between
shuffling legs. There were tables all about with patrons sitting at them,
talking, making out, or throwing back shots. People were dancing on a large
dance floor, bumping and grinding erotically. Men and women together, men and
men, women and women. Vampires with vampires, humans with humans, and vampires
with humans.
One thing he didn't see, however, was any of the vampires feeding. He had
expected to see at least a couple of them latched onto someone's neck or arm,
draining away their life force as if it were a martini. The next thing he
wondered was how the vampires were able to stand the loud rock music blaring in
the bar with their enhanced hearing. It was giving him a headache and he was
only listening with human ears.
Far in the back of the bar was a stage, complete with curtains, except there
was no play or performance going on. Instead there were only two people
watching the bar, both looking almost bored. At the center of the dais,
spotlights highlighted the tall, dark haired man sitting in what looked like an
over-the-top throne, an equally tall, raven haired woman stood right by his
side, her sleek, shiny dress reflecting in the bright light, her hair pulled
back in a tight ponytail that gave her a severe look. The man's eyes played
across Rory's body, not making any effort to hide the fact he was lustful for
the boy upon first sight. Sam looked to his side, right at Rory and gave him a
curt, encouraging nod. Rory gulped and walked onto the platform with his
friend, stopping directly in front of whom he assumed was the sheriff.
"Good evening, Samuel," the man said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a
sly grin. He was admittedly handsome with a youthful face, only the slightest
hint of stubble on his chin. He wore a black button-down shirt that was halfway
undone, exposing his smooth, pale chest. "Who is your friend? He looks
positively… delicious." His mouth turned up in a slight smile, his eyes roving
over Rory's body.
Rory squeezed Sam's hand, already feeling himself sweating in fear. He had
hoped that perhaps he would be ignored, or just casually noticed, but the
sheriff, although sitting down, was an imposing man who made no hesitation in
asking questions.
"He's human. His name is Rory, and he is mine," Sam stated protectively. He
squeezed his hand twice, hoping that Rory would get the hint to just go along
with whatever he was saying.
"Is that so? A handsome human male specimen. A shame he's spoken for." The man
raised his arm up slightly and motioned for Rory to step forward. The teen
looked at Sam, who nodded his approval.
"Go ahead. You're in no danger," Sam assured him. He let go of the boy's hand
and reluctantly allowed him to approach his sheriff. He prayed that he was
speaking the truth; it was vampire law not to harm another vampire's human, but
a sheriff could always make an exception if he truly wanted to, though the
decision may still hold unknown consequences.
"Greetings, human. My name is Sebastian Smythe. It's a pleasure to meet you,"
the sheriff announced. "As I said, it's a shame you have been spoken for."
Rory could tell that Sebastian was challenging him, the way he made his
statements deliberate and firm. It occurred to him that the only way he was
going to make it through this little meeting was to do exactly as Sam had told
him, and play along. "Y-yes sir. I am his. Only his," he stated, trying his
hardest to keep the terror out of his voice.
Sebastian chuckled. "Point taken, young man. You may step back."
"Sebastian, are all these theatrics really necessary?" Sam inquired, shaking
his head. "I'm pretty sure you've made an impression." He took Rory's hand
again as the boy stepped backwards, Rory refusing to take his eyes away from
Sebastian for fear that something might happen if he looked away for even a
second. Upon touching Sam's hand, Rory felt comfort and safety flow through his
body once again.
"Aww, come on, Sam. Let him play it up a little to impress the human. The only
ones we ever get in here anymore are fangbangers, and those are so boring," the
woman standing behind Sebastian said, leaning over and tracing her fingers
across Sebastian's chest. She paused just long enough to gracefully unbutton
the next tab of his shirt, exposing more of her maker's chest. She seductively
licked her lips ever so slightly, furrowing her brow. Her cleavage was
shamefully abundant, her dress barely holding her breasts inside as she leaned
down. She sounded flirtatious but it was obvious she held disdain for their
guests.
Sam sighed. "You're just as dramatic, Santana. No wonder you two are such a
perfect match." The woman, Santana, rolled her eyes and huffed, drawing her
hand away and leaning up against the back of the chair. She then smirked at
him, knowing that Sebastian wasn't about to give up his charade.
"I think we should talk alone, Samuel. Without prying ears," Sebastian said,
nodding toward the human standing beside his summoned quarry.
"No. He stays. He is mine and I keep no secrets from him. I don't trust these
fools around him, either," Sam said, motioning around the bar with his free
hand. "They're so filled with bloodlust they may not remember the concept of
ownership."
"You really are a self-hater, Sam. Get over yourself and give in already,"
Santana scolded him. She grinned and quickly closed the distance toward Rory.
"You are handsome. Has nice guy Sammy had a nice little feed off of you yet?"
Rory gulped, the woman slightly taller only because of her high heels, but her
slender figure still intimidating. "N-n-no. Not yet."
Santana scoffed, looking over at Sam. "Figures. Sam, you really are such a bad
example for our kind. Lucky for you, I'm not in charge, or else I'd make you
feed off him right here, right now. That sweet, Irish accent, I bet the boy
tastes of potatoes in his blood." She leaned her head back, cackling in an
overly dramatic manner.
Sam scowled at the woman, his eyes dark and filled with hate. "What do you
want, Sebastian?" he asked coldly, still keeping his eyes on the seductive
progeny.
"Well, you probably don't know, but a body was found in the area, not far from
where you live. It's a human, and normally I wouldn't much care unless a
vampire was the guilty party, but there was something abnormal about these
leftovers," the sheriff began. Rory flinched at his use of the word 'leftovers'
to refer to a dead human corpse.
"What was so weird about it? If it wasn't a vampire that attacked, it was most
likely a wolf, which I really don't intend to start a fight with," the blonde
stated.
Sebastian smiled and stared up lovingly at Santana, the pair exchanging a
moment of affection before the man returned his attention to the men before
him. "The body wasn't drained. In fact, it looked like none of the blood from
the victim was even taken. No bite marks, no marks of any kind as far as teeth,
claws, blades. Just a broken, liquefied body. Picture a melted wax dummy, or
perhaps you'd care to take a look for yourself?"
"No, that's alright. So what do you want me for? Clean up?" Sam asked
sarcastically, annoyed. He knew he was being rude, and he knew he should calm
down in front of the sheriff, but he and Sebastian had history, as did Santana
and himself, so they were on a slightly more 'casual' level than most.
Sebastian sat upright and stiff, irritated. "Listen you cocky little shit, that
body was shattered from the inside. Every bone inside was turned to shards and
grit. Its organs were liquefied in a way I've never seen. This wasn't something
we're familiar with and what I want with you is to do a little recon mission
and see what you can find out in that Lima shithole. So here's the deal. You
turn around, taking your handsome little toy with you, go home, and then go out
hunting the area, see what you can find. Hopefully answers."
Santana chuckled in delight as her maker harshly gave orders to Sam, the
younger vampire whom she had extreme distaste for. Ever since Sam had rejected
her advances upon his arrival in Ohio, she had been bitter and angry at him,
feeling insulted when he refused her offer of a three-way relationship with her
maker.
"Fine," Sam stated firmly. "But I only do this once. After that, I'm done. I'm
not part of your brigade that goes around solving vampire crimes. You know I am
a loner, and I intend to stay that way."
"So arrogant," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. "You know I chose you for this
job for the very reason that whoever, whatever this perpetrator is, they won't
be expecting you. They would see a 'brigade' from a mile away. Now quit being
Mr. Big Cock in front of your human and get out and get to work." Sebastian
remembered his agreement with Sam when the young vampire arrived in town. It
was an agreement that left Sam out of most vampire politics as he preferred not
to nest with others of their kind. In exchange, Sam would never speak of his
rejection of Santana and Sebastian nor would he interfere with the lives of any
other vampire in the area.
Sam said nothing in response, but just gave both of the vampires a cold stare
before tugging on Rory's hand, pulling him along to leave.
"Wait," Sebastian ordered. "Come back here, I want to see the boy again."
Sighing, Sam led his friend back up onto the stage where Sebastian scooted to
the edge of his seat, staring into Rory's deep blue eyes.
"I sense something… different about you. How curious. What are you?" Sebastian
asked Rory, scrunching up his face.
"I'm a waiter, a student. Nothing special," the teen replied, feeling slightly
more confident now that he had seen that Sebastian was really the pompous ass
Sam had made him out to be.
"Hmph. No, there's definitely something special about you. I've never before
met a human I couldn't glamour, and you, you are like trying to force a brick
wall to move by staring at it."
Rory gulped again before finding his voice. "That's right. Glamouring doesn't
work on me, so I am Sam's by me own free will. That means a great deal more
than someone who becomes ye'r slave because ye' force them to with… mind
magic."
"Ho, ho!" Sebastian squealed in delight. "Oh yes, boy, you are indeed something
special. Don't lose that confidence; you'll need it. I wish to see you again,
and soon," he said. He then looked back up at Sam. "Take your… whatever he is…
and get going, but I mean it; I do want to see him again. I need to figure him
out. I'm intrigued. I sense something very different, very special about him,
but I can't place my finger on it."
"He's special because he's an accepting and caring human being. He's special
because he's a good person. Otherwise, he's a normal human. Now, goodbye,
Sebastian. I'll give you a report by dawn," Sam said harshly, tugging Rory
along one more time. Sebastian watched with delight as the two men quickly made
their exit.
Back in the truck, Sam put it into gear and started to drive back where they
came from. "Where did you get that sudden burst of confidence from? You're
usually so timid. I was impressed you stood up for yourself."
Rory shrugged. "I don't know. It just kind o' came out o' me. Maybe ye'r blood
is still 'aving its effect on me." They rode in silence for several minutes
before Rory asked something that had been bothering him since they left. "Sam,
what did ye' mean when ye' said that I am ye'rs?"
"I was staking claim to you. I should have explained before we went in. See, a
lot of vampires will 'adopt' a human to be theirs, sort of like a partner. They
voluntarily let the vampire feed from them, and in most cases, they have a
romantic relationship. It is forbidden for a vampire to lay hand or fang on
someone else's human. By telling Sebastian that you are mine, it secured you
from being harmed. I'm sorry if I offended you, but it was for your safety."
Sam looked away from the road again and glanced over at the teen, searching for
a response.
He didn't get a reply, but instead was greeted by silence. Sighing sadly, Sam
took Rory's hand in his own and held it as they drove back to town. Rory didn't
pull back, so he must not have offended him too badly. Sam thought a moment and
realized Rory's silence could simply be a result of an overload of strange and
new experiences for one evening.
"That place… it was awful," Rory finally stated, still staring out of the
window. "E'eryone was all o'er each other. It was like the start o' one o'
those dirty movies on the internet."
"And how many dirty internet movies have you been watching then?" Sam teased.
Rory's cheeks flushed deep crimson as he realized that he very well might have
given himself away. Every teenaged boy with a computer watched porn online, but
it wasn't exactly something all of them admitted to, Rory included. "Relax, I'm
joking with you. I'm trying to make you feel better."
"Thanks, Sam. I'm okay, it was just weird. I mean, ye're so polite and kind and
modest, and just seeing all those other vampires in there acting all sexual and
perverted, they were the total opposite o' ye'."
Sam smiled as the teen finally looked back at him again. "Rory, I'm not going
to lie to you. I have my sexual side, too. I just don't choose to make it as
important as those people. It's much more important to me to have a
relationship than to get in bed with someone for the sake of it. It's empty and
unfulfilling. Intimacy with someone you love is much better."
"That makes sense. I guess… I guess o'er the years ye've had lots of…
intimacy."
The vampire nodded. "Yes, I have. Most of it was not with people I cared about,
and that was during a time when I was different. I'm a better person now, and I
very much desire a meaningful relationship with someone. I hope that doesn't
scare you away."
"No, it doesn't scare me. I agree with ye'. I've seen in people's minds the
sick, meaningless… sex… the fetishes and creepy things they do and I've seen
some really happy memories o' people with their mates. That's what I want,
happy memories with a special person," the teen confessed. His cheeks had not
returned to their pale color, but were still flushed as he told the man private
thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else before.
Sam squeezed his hand again. "I'm going to assume then, that you're pure, a
virgin," he began. Again the boy's cheeks blushed deeper still. "Take it from
me, save yourself for someone special. Don't do it just because the chance
comes along. You'll be glad you did when you remember it later." He smiled,
pulling their intertwined hands toward his lips and gently kissing the top of
Rory's hand. "Sorry, I don't mean to lecture."
"No, no it's okay. I feel better now. Knowing that ye' want the same thing I
do. It makes me feel like less of a lost cause," Rory said. "I used to think I
was the only one who really felt that way, except for me friends who already
'ave someone special. Mike and Tina. Kurt and Blaine. Mercedes is single, but
she has her eye on a boy named Shane. I see in people's heads and all they
remember is hardcore sex. Some of it very… scary. Stuff with no one special."
"You're not alone. Lots of people feel the way we do." The pair was silent for
a few more minutes before Sam spoke up again. "I want you to know that whatever
comes of our friendship, I'll always be honest with you. I may not always do
the right thing, I might make mistakes, but it's always because I care about
you. Friend or more."
Rory smiled adoringly at the man. "I promise to do the same."
When they arrived at Rory's home, Sam jumped out of the truck to let his friend
out. As he held out his hand to help the boy out of the vehicle, Rory instead
pulled himself forward using the proffered hand and planted a soft kiss on the
blonde's lips. Sam was taken aback, unsure of how to respond at first, but
realized that it was simply an innocent sign of affection, nothing more.
"Thanks for a wonderful night, Sam. Even with the weird bar, it was fun," Rory
admitted.
Sam grinned "I'm glad Sebastian and his bitch- uh I mean progeny didn't ruin it
for you. Good night, Rory. Get some sleep, and I'll call you tomorrow evening,
after I wake."
Rory gave him another quick peck on the lips and then started to walk away.
When he got halfway up the drive, he turned, Sam still watching him. "Ye' know,
since we want each other to be honest, I think I 'ave to tell ye' something. I
think I would like it very much, if ye' would let me really be ye'rs. Like ye'
said. Can I really be ye'rs? I know it's so soon, but… I really feel like it's
the right thing. So, can I be ye'rs, Sam?"
The vampire smiled widely and nodded. "Yes. You can really be mine. I'll
protect you and spend plenty of time with you, and I promise, I won't feed off
of you. I don't look at you as food. I look at you as an amazing young man. The
only way my fangs would find their way into your skin was if you requested
it—something I will never obligate you to do."
"Thank ye', Sam. I trust ye'." With that final statement, Rory turned back
around and made the rest of the trip up the drive, unlocked the front door, and
slipped inside. Sam stood by the truck for a moment more, smiling at the
knowledge that not only had he kept Rory safe from harm at Scandals, but that
he also now had the devotion and affection he had been craving for decades
since becoming alone; something that no fully grown human or vampire had given
him in all that time. They hadn't expressed love yet—it was still too soon for
those words and emotions to come through, but something told him that someday
it would be the right time, that if they followed this path, everything would
turn out just fine.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 3: Alliance *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: How did you guys like the first mysterious death
     scene? For anyone not familiar, Samuel Larsen tweeted that he and
     Damian McGinty would both be returning to Glee for season 4. Well, he
     apparently needed to fact-check because it was officially announced
     Damian would not be returning. Talk about a buzzkill. Since Ryan
     Murphy isn't a character on Glee, I figured the next best thing to
     vent out my anger was to off the character of the guy who got my
     hopes up for a decent season. And there you have it, the wrath of an
     irrationally angry author. :) Of course here we are, season 4 having
     ended by the time this is released and I am still slightly bitter
     about that. On the plus side, we got so much Sam it helped make up
     for it.

     Beta Credit: Ragnarok45, TVTime
Season 1, Episode 3: Alliance
The mysterious death of Joe Hart was all over the news, cited as a grisly
murder that people were already speculating was vampire-related. The staff of
the Lima Bean, as well as some of their patrons, had gathered around the wall-
mounted television to watch the latest news brief.
Currently, a debate was raging between the spokespersons for two of the major
factions in the country. On one side was Sue Sylvester: a forty-something
blonde with her hair cut short, wearing a track suit and her trademark sour
expression. "As representative of the Fellowship of the Sun, I demand swift
justice be brought down upon the vampire or vampires who committed this heinous
act of murder against Mr. Joseph Hart, an upstanding human member of our
church," she said sternly. "It wouldn't surprise me if this was done by the
same vampires that murdered Reverend Steve Newlin!"
On the other half of the screen was her exact opposite: an elegantly-dressed
woman with long blonde hair who appeared no older than thirty. Her name was
Holly Holliday, representing the local chapter of the American Vampire League.
"There has been no evidence so far that even suggests any vampires were
involved with this crime. Until the authorities have collated the evidence
they do have, all parties are considered innocent until proven
guilty. All parties, Ms. Sylvester: vampire and human. Humans and vampires are
equally capable of grisly acts, a fact that history has repeatedly proven. I
believe such considerations need to be taken into account before any side
starts lobbing baseless allegations..."
Sue and Holly continued debating back and forth, Holly the much more composed
and mature of the two despite her youthful demeanor. Sue fired off more insults
disguised as arguments against vampires than she did actual facts. Indeed, all
of her supposed data against vampires consisted of nothing but false claims and
made up statistics. It was laughable how someone standing up for the human
community—someone who was supposed to defend them, to prove how much better
than vampires they were—could, herself, be such a poor example of humanity.
Yet, here was Sue, acting like an irrational child while Holly remained calm
and responded to the other woman's vitriol with a polite sassiness and tact—the
vampire behaving more like a "human" than her counterpart.
"I have to admit, for a vampire, that Holly sure holds up good in a debate,"
Mercedes commented, turning away from the TV and strolling back toward the bar.
"Good thing she isn't a lawyer or we'd all be in trouble anytime a vampire-on-
human crime came up."
"They need to find someone better than Sue Sylvester and the Fellowship of the
Sun. She makes us all look stupid, even if she does make some good points. The
thing is, nobody takes the Fellowship seriously because they're such
extremists, like PETA," Kurt added, patting his perfectly coiffed hair to make
sure it looked just as good as it did the last time he checked himself out
before walking off to join Mercedes at the bar. "I wouldn't be surprised if
they came out with more Unhappy Meals for McDonald's, filled with fake vampire
guts and everything."
"That's disgusting, but probably true. We need the Human Political Action
Committee to do more interviews. Then we might get taken seriously. Someone to
put that Holly Holliday in her place," the stout woman responded. She then
lowered her voice. "Do you think that vampire knows anything? That Sam guy. I
bet he told Rory what's going on," She paused a moment, looking around to see
if Rory was in earshot. "Hell, I bet it was him who did it."
"Oh no, then that means Rory could be next!" Kurt exclaimed, throwing his hands
over his mouth as he saw Mercedes' eyes widen, her head giving a slight nod
toward the figure who'd come up behind him.
Standing at Kurt's back was Rory, arms crossed, tapping his foot, the
expression on his face angry. It was an expression not often seen, as Rory was
more timid and reserved, maintaining his composure in most cases. Kurt turned
around, embarrassed.
"I'll 'ave ye' know that Sam is actually the one looking into the murder. He
was called by his sheriff last night and was assigned to investigate," Rory
stated sternly. Kurt started to open his mouth but quickly shut it. "Maybe ye'
need to check the facts before ye' go around blamin' people for things ye' know
nothing about."
Kurt muttered an apology, though secretly he was only apologetic that he had
been heard. He then slipped away toward the kitchen, leaving Mercedes on her
own. "I need a large mocha cappuccino for table four, if ye' don't mind," Rory
said flatly, glaring at the woman, who simply nodded.
Rory walked away from the bar, unsure if he was more hurt that his friends
didn't trust his judgment, or simply angry that he was being talked about
behind his back. Before he had time to figure it out, Tina approached him,
smiling as always.
"Hey, how'd your date go?" she asked cheerfully, stopping him mid-stride.
"It was great. He took me t'dinner, and then we went to a vampire bar t'meet
his sheriff. It was fun. Thank ye' for asking," Rory replied, his manner
softening at Tina's genuine interest. He decided not to go into detail about
the bar itself and its creepy clientele nor about the sheriff himself.
"I'm so glad! It feels great to get out and have a date, doesn't it?" she said,
winking at him.
He nodded. "Yeah, it does. It's me first one ye' know. I ne'er been on a date
with someone before," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Then good thing it was a great experience," the woman said. "So you're gonna
have a second date, right? And a third and a fiftieth?" Both of them simply
laughed, the younger teen already feeling better knowing that at least one of
his friends was supportive. "Oh, I came out here to get you. Mike wants to see
you a minute," Tina mentioned. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or
anything."
The Irish teen paled slightly. The last time Mike saw him it resulted in a
lecture. Somehow Rory felt like he was about to get another one. He walked
toward the hall where the office was and lightly rapped on the door with his
fist. Mike invited him in, Tina following him into the room. She shut the door
behind them, offering Rory a chair while she opted to sit on the corner of the
desk. Tina was famous for keeping things informal.
"I'm glad to see you survived your date with the vam- I mean with Sam," Mike
said coolly. "Are you planning on another one?"
"It was great. And yes, I think we'll see each other again," Rory replied
confidently. "Why?"
Mike sighed. "I'm just concerned. I was worried about you already, but now this
murder makes me worry even more. I don't want to see you be the next victim,"
he said.
"So ye' think he's the murderer too, then? Just like Kurt and Mercedes?" Rory
challenged. "He isn't a murderer!" The boy was already becoming agitated, and
was about to get out of his seat and leave.
"I didn't say he was a murderer-" Mike began.
"I think you might have said it wrong," Tina interrupted. "I'm pretty sure your
Sam isn't the killer. He seems awfully nice," she added. "What I think he means
is that we don't want your association with him to possibly get you into
trouble. There're a lot of anti-vampire groups out there, and it's been on the
news before where humans who were associated with vampires ended up in the
crossfire, you know what I mean?"
Rory sighed, simmering down in his chair. "I un'erstand what ye' mean, but I'll
be fine. Sam will protect me. He won't let anything happen to me. I trust him,"
he assured them. "We went to that vampire bar, Scandals, and I felt safe with
him. If he wanted a meal of me, he had plenty of opportunity. He's a good guy.
A gentleman."
"I'm happy for you, Rory. I really am. I hope everything works out with him. I
just hope that nobody else gives you trouble, that's all we're saying," Tina
clarified. "He seems like a really nice guy, and he's very handsome. It's the
crazies out there that worry me."
Mike shrugged. "She said it better than me. That's why she stays around, to
keep me from looking stupid. Just be careful. Sam might have good intentions,
but not everyone else he knows might share that."
"I'll be fine, I promise," Rory reiterated, looking from Tina to Mike and back.
"Sam won't let anything happen to me. He said so, and I trust him."
Both of the older teens nodded in assent. "I better get back to me tables.
Thank ye' for caring though. It means a lot t'know me friends are watching out
for me. Especially when other people are just being bigoted."
Rory stood up and turned to leave but had an afterthought. "Ye' know, he said I
was his. That means no other vampires can hurt me without getting in trouble.
And it means... I think it means he's me boyfriend now."
Tina and Mike exchanged confused stares at the revelation, Rory slipping out of
the door before they could ask any more questions or comment. Rory hoped
neither Mike nor Tina would say anything to anyone else, because he knew full
well that if Mercedes or Kurt got wind of the vampire phraseology of 'being
his' they would have a fit and start on a tirade about vampires owning humans
like property, like slaves or pets.
-ooo-
Rory was clearing one of his tables when he felt his phone vibrate on his hip.
He knew it had to be Sam because other than Brittany, who never called or
texted him unless she wanted him to bring her a coffee home, nobody else ever
contacted him. Most of his friends worked there at the Lima Bean so they wee
already around each other quite a bit. He quickly finished putting the trash
onto the tray and scurried back to the kitchen, tipping the garbage into the
bin and setting the tray on the counter. He pulled his phone out and saw that
it was indeed Sam. He pushed the icon to bring up the message and read it.
I will wait for you outside after work, I need to talk to you. Yours, Sam
At first, Sam's sign off confused him - Sam said that the teen was 'his' but
this signature made it sound like Sam belonged to him. Perhaps it worked both
ways - what's his is mine and what's mine is his. More importantly, however,
what was it Sam needed to talk about? Fortunately, he wouldn't need to wait
long - Rory's shift ended in half an hour.
-ooo-
Just as he said he would be, Sam was waiting patiently for Rory when he
finished his shift. He was standing by his vehicle, wearing jeans and white t-
shirt, with a leather jacket slung over his shoulder gave him a greaser look.
Rory giggled at the sight.
"What's so funny?" the vampire asked, confused.
"Ye'r clothes, they remind me o'the movie 'Grease'. Ye' know, John Travolta?"
the teen replied.
Sam scrunched up his face. "Hmm, I hope that's a good thing. I'm not familiar
with that film, actually."
"Ye' mean in all ye'r years ye' ne'er watched 'Grease'? It's a classic. We
watched it in me high school glee club last year. Lots o' singin' and dancin',"
Rory explained, standing closer to Sam as he spoke. "They dressed just like ye'
except they kept their hair slicked back and drove a big fancy convertible."
Sam smiled and made a mental note to inquire further about the glee club. For
now, he had other things to worry about. He pulled his jacket from his shoulder
and dug in the pocket, pulling out a photograph.
"Do you recognize this boy?"
Rory took the picture in hand and looked it over thoughtfully. "I saw him
around the school, but ne'er knew him personally. He seemed like he was nice
though. He was always singin' in the halls when he walked around. He wasn't
bad, but me friends are better at singin'. He was always quotin' the Bible to
people, too. Why?" He handed the picture back to Sam, hoping that he wasn't
about to say that the boy in the picture was the victim.
"His name was Joseph Hart. He's the victim of the murder. Aside from his large
dreadlocks, the only things identifying him were tattoos and the fact his
mother reported him missing," Sam replied, stuffing the picture back into his
jacket pocket.
"What happened to him?" Rory asked nervously, slight chills going down his
spine.
"I... it was very graphic. I won't say exactly, but his body was quite a mess.
What was left of it," Sam grimaced. Rory's eyes bulged at his last
comment. What was left of it.
Rory's nerves were on edge knowing that not only was this boy murdered, but it
was someone from his school - someone he had seen several times before - and
that he had been murdered in such a grisly way that his entire body wasn't even
there. The news hadn't gone into that much detail nor had they shown even a
school picture of him at his mother's request, and now he could see why they
left out the gruesome explanation of his death.
Sensing his unease, Sam laid his jacket on the hood of the truck and leaned
forward, taking Rory in his arms for a hug. "I don't really want you to get
involved in this. You already know more than you should have to."
"Thank ye' Sam. It's scary knowing there's someone out there butchering
people," the young teen said, nuzzling his head into Sam's shoulder. "I feel
really safe with ye' though."
Sam smiled and ran his fingers through Rory's hair. "I promise, I will keep you
safe to the very best of my ability. Unfortunately, in the daytime I can't do
much, but once the sun sets, I will make sure that nothing can bring you harm.
Not even Sebastian."
Rory stood back a moment, a confused look on his face. "Sebastian? But he's
ye'r sheriff. Why would he hurt me? Ye' said I was ye'rs; he can't hurt me,
right?"
Sam sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. Sebastian has an interest in you. When
I gave him what I found out, he was asking questions about you. He's taken a
fancy to you, but I sternly reminded him that you are mine, much to his dismay.
Don't worry, I didn't tell him about your special ability."
A look of relief washed across the young teen's face. "What would he do if he
knew about it, about me ability?"
Sam shrugged. "I have no idea, but it wouldn't be good. He'd probably find some
way to exploit you and who knows what else. He'll have to kill me before I let
that happen," he vowed, his face firm and determined.
"That makes me feel better. I hope it ne'er comes to that, though. I just want
to be happy with me vampire boyfriend," the Irishman replied. The vampire
grinned.
"Boyfriend, huh? I think I like that. I guess that means we're each other's. I
like that a lot better," Sam said. Rory took him in his arms this time, hugging
him tightly. Before Sam could stop him, Rory pressed his lips against Sam's,
kissing him.
"Ow!" Rory exclaimed, jumping back, his bottom lip bleeding. "What did ye' do
that for?" He didn't cry, but he still looked hurt, as if Sam had rejected him.
"Ye' bit me!"
Sam would have blushed if he could but the rise in body heat could not occur.
"I'm so sorry, Rory! I didn't mean to. I should have warned you, but I didn't
think about it until it was too late." He quickly put his hand over his mouth
and retracted his fangs, looking aside in embarrassment. "Sometimes that
happens to vampires when they get... excited... If I knew you were going to do
that, I could have concentrated to keep it from happening."
"It's okay. It wasn't ye'r fault then. I didn't know," the teen said
sorrowfully. A thought then occurred to him. What he was about to do would have
seemed gross to a normal human, but it made perfect sense in the case of a
vampire. Rory pressed his finger against his bleeding lip, gathering up some of
the blood on the tip. He then pressed it firmly against Sam's thick lips,
pushing in slightly until he could feel the very tip of the man's tongue.
Licking his lips and suckling Rory's finger, Sam couldn't help but let out a
quiet moan of satisfaction. Rory leaned in close again, pressing his lips
against his older lover's. He could feel his lip being drawn into Sam's mouth,
his tongue lapping at the blood as he gently sucked. Rory expected to feel the
sharp sting of his lip being cut again, but it didn't come. Sam must have been
concentrating very hard to keep his teeth from popping out.
Against his better judgment, Sam continued to kiss the boy, the taste of his
blood intoxicating. He had never tasted blood so pure and rich before. The
sweetness reminded him of the delicious desserts he had indulged in as a human.
He wanted more.
Sam pulled back, unlocking their mouths, his hands shaking slightly. "We have
to stop," he declared, breathing heavily.
"Why? Was I not any good?" Rory asked, lowering his eyes. Sam reached over and
lifted up the boy's chin with his fingertip.
"Oh, that's not what I meant at all," Sam replied with a smile. "You're a very
good kisser. It's just your blood... It tastes different than anything I ever
had before. I had to stop myself to keep in control. I don't want to hurt you."
Rory thought a moment. "So me blood tastes different, but good? It won't hurt
anything if ye' drink a little bit would it? Like if ye' kept sucking on me
lip?"
Sam shook his head resolutely. "No. That's not an option. I am not going to
feed on you."
"It's not feeding on me if I want ye' to though, is it? If ye only take a
little bit, what harm can it do?"
"Plenty. I might not be able to stop, for one. You don't know what it's like.
Remember how much you kept trying to keep drinking my blood, but I pulled away?
You wouldn't be able to overpower me and stop me. Even if I could stop, it
would leave you weak and at the very least give you a headache," Sam explained.
"I appreciate that you trust me enough to offer, but I won't do it. I refuse to
hurt you."
Rory looked rejected. He didn't know why it had suddenly become important to
him to have Sam drink his blood, why he was encouraging it. He knew it wasn't a
glamour - that wouldn't work on him. So what was going on?
"It's not that I don't want you, Rory. Trust me, I do. Not just your blood. But
I want your safety too. I value you more than to just drink you up whenever I
feel like it. You're my boyfriend, not a beverage," Sam assured him. He reached
over and wiped the remaining stains from the teen's lip, not wanting him to
look like a victim-or a temptation.
"Good night Rory! Sam!" called Tina as she was leaving. Both guys waved at her,
Sam pleased to see that apparently not all of Rory's associates found him to be
some sort of predator. Mike followed right behind her, giving a simple nod to
them.
"Mike is still a little skeptical, but Tina seems to trust me judgment," Rory
stated, turning back toward his boyfriend.
"Perhaps a formal introduction would be a good idea. Your friends might not
find me so intimidating or, as you say it, 'creepy' if they got to know me a
little," Sam suggested. "Only when you feel comfortable, of course."
Rory smiled. "Oh yeah, that would be great! Come in earlier tomorrow and I'll
introduce ye' to e'eryone! Mike, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes. They're all good people,
really. They just don't know anything about vampires, just the things they see
on the telly."
Sam nodded, admittedly a little nervous about being introduced to the people
that seemed so wary of him, and obviously protective of their friend. It was
almost laughable – a hundred-seventeen year old vampire, unnerved by a group of
human teenagers.
"I should go ahead and get you home before anyone starts to worry," Sam
suggested, noting the time on his watch. It was a Rolex, a very expensive one
at that. Rory noticed the shining gold in the moonlight when Sam twitched his
wrist.
"Wow, that's a really fancy watch," the young teen observed, taking Sam's arm
and examining the timepiece.
"You should see the collection of watches I have from over the years.
Especially the old ones."
"Can I come see now?" Rory asked anxiously. He looked up at Sam with his bright
blue eyes, glistening with excitement. Sam couldn't resist, even though he knew
he should be getting the boy home instead.
Sam ushered him into the car, holding the door open for him, and then quickly
drove to his home. Rory found it much more intriguing now that he wasn't
recovering from death. It was an old home, somewhat resembling the old
plantation style houses from the days of slavery.
"How old is this house, anyway?" Rory inquired as they walked inside.
"It was built in the very early 1800's. My parents were humble farmers from
Tennessee, but my extended family was from Ohio, and wealthy. They looked down
on us because we weren't as well off as they were," Sam explained, frowning at
the memory. "Unfortunately for them, the last family member to live here was my
father's aunt, and she actually liked him very much, so she willed the house to
him when she died. He passed it on to my brother, and he to his son. Steven
Junior never willed the estate to anyone else, so when he died, I purchased the
home myself," he explained. Rory simply nodded, taking in the sights of the
domicile better than before.
Sam took him by the hand and led him to his study. In the middle of the large
room was an expensive looking oak desk, and against one wall a highboy. The
back wall had floor to ceiling display cases that held many antiques, from
weapons to jewelry, to random trinkets, all of them far too old to have come
from Sam himself.
The vampire pulled open a small drawer on the desk and removed a miniature
brass key, then turned and opened one of the cases. He removed a thin box from
one of the shelves and turned around, placing it on the desk. Neatly arranged
on black cloth was a collection of timepieces. Most of them looked ancient—from
various materials including copper, cheap steel, and brass. There were pocket
watches, and ones with leather bands—some tattered and worn. Then there were
much more modern pieces, made of silver or gold with wide bands, some digital
and some standard face watches.
"Can I touch them?" Rory asked, his eyes wide with amazement.
"Yes, but be careful; the ones that are very old are not in the best
condition," Sam cautioned. Rory nodded and very gently turned a couple of them
over to examine the backsides. A few of the ones in better condition he picked
up and held in front of his wrist to see how they would have looked on him. He
turned over one of the old silver watches, squinting at the etching there.
"Can ye' read this? What's it say?" the teen asked, holding the silver
timepiece out toward his much older friend. Sam made no motion to take it from
him, however.
"I can't touch it. It's silver. Silver is harmful to vampires. I can only touch
it if I have gloves on, or something else keeping me from direct contact," the
blonde explained. His eyes had a very solemn look to them, as if he genuinely
missed touching the shiny metal. "It melts our skin and is really painful, like
if you touched a hot stove."
Rory's face flushed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know," he apologized, pulling the
watch toward himself quickly and then placing it back on the felt. Sam reached
forward and pulled the young man into his arms and hugged him.
"Don't worry about it," the vampire said. "I don't expect you to know every
little thing about vampires." As if to assure the boy that he wasn't upset, he
placed his lips against Rory's. Sure that he would be able to keep his fangs in
check, he began to up the passion.
Soon the pair of them were exploring each other's mouths with their tongues.
Lost in their affection, their hands soon followed suit, roaming all over each
other. Rory's hands slid up and down Sam's arms, squeezing the tightly corded
muscles. Never before had he felt another man so intimately, and the simple act
of massaging the firm biceps was turning him on.
Sam's hands had ventured from Rory's shoulders to his back, then down to his
waist. He pulled the teen closer, their bodies pressed firmly against one
another's. He could feel Rory's heart beating in his chest as the boy breathed
in and out. As they continued to kiss, he could feel not only his own
excitement growing in his groin, but his boyfriend's as well.
The fire in their pants intensifying, Sam made the very difficult decision to
stop and pull back slightly. "What's wrong?" Rory asked, confused and a little
hurt.
"I'm sorry. I don't want to take advantage of you. I want you to be ready
before we get too… physical. I want you to make the conscious decision that
you're ready, not a choice made through lust," Sam said.
Rory's eyes trailed down toward the floor. "Oh. Okay. I see." His voice was
sad, disappointed. He suddenly felt inadequate. Sam was over a century old. He
had to have had numerous sexual encounters, with all kinds of men and women.
What would he want with a teenaged virgin?
"Don't look like that. It's not rejection, not at all. I just want you to be
happy with your choice, not regretting it because you felt pressured, or
lustful," the blonde assured him. He lifted Rory's chin with his fingertip,
looking into his eyes.
"Are ye' sure that's all it is?" the brunette asked, still slightly insecure.
"Yes. If you want to know the truth, I very much want to take you to my
bedroom, undress you, and bring you so much pleasure you would fall apart at
the seams. I want the moment to be just right. I promise you," Sam said. "Now,
let me see that beautiful smile."
Rory blushed, grinning wide. Sam smiled in return, leaning forward to kiss him
again. "I guess ye' were right before; I should get home. Thank ye' for letting
me see ye'r watches. They're really amazing," he said. Sam returned to the
desk, picked up the thin box and placed it back in the case, shutting the
cabinet door and locking it, placing the key in its hiding spot.
-ooo-
Sam pulled into the driveway of the Pierce home, only two lights left on in the
entire house. One was Brittany's bedroom window, and the other was the living
room, where Mr. and Mrs. Pierce were most likely watching television.
"I hate every time we have to part," Sam whispered softly. "I know it sounds
strange, but every time I see you, I fall more and more for you. More than I
remember falling for any other person."
Rory smiled, his eyes shining as always. He reached over and brushed his hand
against Sam's face, the vampire's cooler skin barely noticeable. "Ye' know, I
always thought vampires were supposed to be cold. I imagined it would be like
touching ice, but ye' just feel cool, like a light breeze. Ye'r not cold at
all."
If Sam could flush crimson, he would have. "There's a lot of things about
vampires that people don't know the truth about."
"I'm happy t'learn, though," Rory assured him. He pulled his hand away, gently
kissed Sam on the lips, and strolled up the pavement to the front door. Sam
watched him as he always did, not tearing his eyes away until the door was
firmly shut and the lock clicked closed.
-ooo-
Sebastian Smythe sat on his throne, looking out into the club, observing the
patrons. "I tire of these boring humans. All so predictable, so easily
manipulated. Even the vampires bore me. They fear me as their sheriff," he
lamented, sighing. "They don't put up a fight or anything. I want someone to
writhe under me, to scream my name as their body is torn between pleasure and
pain."
Santana stood beside him, rubbing his shoulder. "You could always
try not glamouring one of the humans," she suggested with a smirk. "Oh, that's
right, you don't have to glamour them because they're all too stupid to deny
you anyway." She chuckled at herself, rolling her eyes playfully.
"It takes all the fun out of things, really. I want a challenge," the sheriff
huffed. "What I want is that boy of Sam Evans'. The little toy with the bright
blue eyes and racing heartbeat. That boy who somehow is immune to glamour.
There's something more to him than just that. I can feel it."
Santana's eyes roamed the room as she listened to her maker prattle on about
his desire for conquest. "I've never heard of anyone being immune to that
before, either. Do you think he's human? He certainly isn't were, or else he'd
stink like wet dog, so what is he?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sebastian's lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "Somehow I get the feeling he
isn't human or were, but something entirely different. I think he may be hiding
something. I know Sam will never tell what it is, even under command, though."
The Hispanic vampiress shrugged. "You're gonna let that stop you? The Sebastian
I know is much more clever. Don't tell me you've lost your touch," she teased.
Sebastian turned his head up, cutting his eyes at her. "The Sebastian I know
would pull whatever he needed to in order to get his way, man, woman, vampire,
or human. Or 'other'."
"You're lucky you're my progeny. Anyone else would be insane to say such
things," the man scolded. "Of course I haven't lost my touch. In fact, this is
the perfect challenge. I'll seduce him completely on my own, and there won't be
a damn thing Sam can do about it. He can't stop free will if the boy is immune
to glamouring."
Santana smiled her own seductive grin. "What do you have up your sleeve now?"
Sebastian was silent a moment, only for effect. He had long been thinking about
his plan to seduce the boy ever since he laid eyes on him. "You'll see,
Santana. You'll see," he finally answered, his mouth curled up in a feral grin.
"Now would be a good time to go to the dungeon. I'm left needing some...
attention. Bring me a man and a woman. The youngest you can find. We'll play
with them until dawn."
-ooo-
Rory looked in the bathroom mirror at his bottom lip. It was swollen
slightly—not only from being cut, but from Sam's vigorous suckling as they
kissed. The break in the flesh was no more serious than if he'd cracked a
chapped lip, so nobody should notice anything out of the ordinary.
He pressed his lips together, feeling a slight throb—his lower lip was bruised,
and while the sensation was slightly uncomfortable, it also turned him on as
every pulse seemed to reflect in his groin. It wasn't the pain, but the memory
of Sam kissing him, their roaming hands, their straining erections. He adjusted
himself before stepping out into the hallway to make the short trip to his
room. With his luck, Brittany would come about and catch him tenting his pajama
pants.
As he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, he kept thinking about Sam, as he
had every night since meeting him. This time he thought about his watch
collection and started to picture the man in the old times Sam had described to
him of when he was still human. He pictured the pre-vampire chopping wood for
the iron stove in the kitchen, the sun glistening on the bare sweaty skin of
his torso, the corded muscles in his arms and back tensing and relaxing as he
swung the axe over his head and brought it down to split the log. Sam paused to
wipe sweat from his brow and look up at the sky, observing a hawk flying by. It
was simplicity, peace, happiness for his boyfriend from when he used to be
alive.
Alive. Something that technically Sam was not. He was considered dead by the
human race, a walking corpse only one step up from a zombie. No, the dead did
not walk, did not talk. The dead didn't feel emotion, or smile and laugh. The
dead didn't feel anything, and Sam, he felt everything. He walked, talked, and
was definitely filled with emotions. He wasn't dead, not to Rory. Sam's
physical body may have stopped in time, but his heart and everything that made
the vampire Sam was still very much alive. Just as alive as Rory himself. It
was that comforting thought that finally sent him off to sleep for the night.
-ooo-
The next evening, Rory was filled with excitement. Sam was coming to visit once
again, but this time Sam would be formally introduced to Rory's friends, and
hopefully they would see just how good of a person the vampire was and start
opening their minds to the idea that not all vampires were bad.
It was a slow night at the Lima Bean, Rory spending most of his time at the
bar, chatting with Mercedes and Kurt. Mike was in his office while Tina was
putting up new artwork in the dining area. There was a single patron in the
place, and he sat at the far end of the bar, away from the chatting staff
members. He came in often, rarely saying anything to anyone aside from his
order. He was only known by his nickname, "Puck."
As soon as Sam walked through the door, Puck's nostrils flared and the man made
a disgusted sound, a guttural grunt. His eyes were suddenly squinted with some
sort of unfounded rage as he looked toward the vampire. He slapped a five-
dollar bill on the counter, left his empty glass on the bar, and walked out,
just brushing past the newcomer.
"I wonder what his problem is," Mercedes asked, watching as the man stormed out
of the door. Between his gruff personality, short mohawk, and leather jacket,
Mercedes had always pictured him a badass, but she had yet to see him actually
act outright rude like that. He rarely spoke outside of his orders, but he
always said 'please' and 'thanks'.
"Maybe he just doesn't like vampires," Kurt hissed sarcastically as he slid
himself down the bar to pick up the empty glass and cash. Puck was a strange
one—always quiet and brooding with his same drink order every time he came in,
watching whatever was on the television at the time—but he was a generous
tipper. His drinks only cost two dollars, and he had left three for a tip. Most
people left only one, or less.
Rory strolled up to his boyfriend and gave him an innocent hug. "Hi! Right on
time," he teased, looking at his watch. "Are ye' ready to meet me friends?" he
asked in a whisper.
"I'd be delighted to meet them." The blonde smiled, allowing his boyfriend to
take his hand and approach the pair behind the bar.
"Guys, this is Sam, me boyfriend," Rory stated happily. "Sam, this is Mercedes
and Kurt," he said, nodding toward the girl and guy respectively. Rory gave the
two of them a pleading look that Sam didn't see. Mercedes took pity on her
friend, offering her hand.
"Nice to meet you," she said, forcing herself to not lace her voice with
sarcasm. She expected the man's hand to be like ice, but to her surprise it
only felt slightly cooler than her own. Kurt was less accommodating, merely
nodding and saying 'hey'.
"So what is it you two do here? Bartenders I assume?" Sam asked politely.
"I'm a bartender. Kurt's the barista. Only real difference between the two is
that he strictly makes coffees and food. I do the fancy drinks," the woman
replied. "Of course Rory won't let anyone serve your Tru Bloods but himself so
I guess you'll never get to see my bottle spinning skills."
Kurt scoffed. "That's only impressive if it's liquor bottles."
"Well let's see you spin a bottle then," Mercedes teased back. Sam could see
that they had a very good rapport with each other, making playful jibes at one
another.
Rory smiled and dragged Sam toward the other side of the restaurant, where Tina
was hanging a large painting, or at least attempting to. The nail on the wall
from the previous painting was just a little too high for her to reach, even on
her tip toes, and the painting quickly started to fall backwards on top of her
until a pale hand caught it in the air.
Tina turned around to thank her timely handyman to see herself staring up at a
tall blonde man with pale skin and thick, full lips. "Oh! Hi Sam! It is Sam,
right?" she said, knowing very well it was his name but unsure of what to say
to the unexpected visitor.
"Yes, and you're Tina, right? Pleased to formally meet you," he said with a
smile, taking the painting and setting it down, leaning it against the wall.
"I see Rory must be talking about me," she said. "I hope it's good," she added,
winking at her young friend. "I've heard nothing but good things about you. Our
boy is completely impressed by you."
Sam grinned. "Well thank you, he impresses me as well. In all my hundred and
seventy years I have never met someone so honest and genuine as Rory."
Tina's jaw dropped. "A hundred and seventy? Really? Wow… Sorry, I didn't mean
to gape, I was just surprised. You don't look more than seventeen or eighteen."
Sam chuckled. "I have the physical appearance of when I was turned, which was
age seventeen. Vampires never age physically, thankfully, or else after a
hundred and fifty-three years I would look pretty gross."
Tina blushed at his attempt at humor. "Well, you are definitely a handsome man
for an old timer," she joked.
"Thank you," Sam replied, relaxing at the woman's genuinely kind demeanor. He
could pick up the venom from both Mercedes and Kurt, even though they were
hiding it—or, rather, even though Mercedes was attempting to hide it; Kurt was
much more overt in his dislike.
"Let's go meet Mike real quick. He's in his office," Rory suggested, giving
Tina a wide, grateful smile. Before they moved on, Sam lifted the painting up
and carefully placed it on the nail on the wall. Tina graciously thanked him,
pleased that she didn't have to struggle with the heavy art piece anymore.
Sam made a mental note—Tina was a shifter. He could sense it on her. Vampires
had heightened senses as well as awareness of other supernatural entities in
their presence, and Tina was definitely a shape shifter. A very friendly one at
that. He wondered if Rory was aware of it or not. Sam figured it best not to
say anything, just in case she hadn't 'come out' to anyone.
As soon as they stepped into Mike's office, the aura of shape shifter filled
Sam's nose again. Apparently he, too, was a shifter. The man stood up and shook
Sam's hand as Rory introduced them to each other. Mike was polite, less hostile
than Mercedes or Kurt, but it was noticeable that he also didn't trust the
vampire immediately.
"It's nice to meet you. I understand you have reservations about my
relationship with Rory, but I assure you I have nothing but the best intentions
with him," Sam stated kindly and confidently.
"So Rory says. I believe him, but I have to be honest with you, Sam, I'm not
the most trusting when it comes to vampires. More than anything it's the
hypnosis that I have problems with, but Rory insists he isn't hypnotized," Mike
replied firmly, sitting back down and motioning for Sam and Rory both to have a
seat.
Rory looked over at Sam and nodded, a silent bit of permission to discuss
things with Mike. "He can't be glamoured. I promise you that," Sam assured the
man. "Something about his special ability keeps him from being influenced."
"You've tried?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow disapprovingly.
Sam shifted his eyes to the floor. "Admittedly, yes. But I assure you, the
circumstances warranted the attempt."
"Never does something warrant the taking away of free will," Mike argued,
raising his voice slightly.
Rory quickly interrupted. "Mike, please. Ye' don't un'erstand. Something
happened and Sam helped me. He tried to glamour me because he didn't want me to
'ave to remember the- the stuff that happened."
"What happened? And don't say 'nothing', because I know something happened. You
just admitted it," the Asian man insisted.
The Irishman sighed heavily, and looked to Sam for support. Sam gave him a nod,
encouraging him to spill the truth. "Some boys were kicking a dog, and I told
them to stop. There were three o'them, and they went from kicking the dog to
kicking me instead."
"They didn't just kick him, Mike. They were brutal. He had broken bones and was
bleeding severely," Sam piped in.
"Is that true? They really hurt you that bad?" Mike asked, worried.
Rory nodded his head. "Yes. If Sam hadn't come, I would 'ave died, Mike. He
saved me. He chased them away and then healed me." Mike looked skeptical. "With
his blood. He healed me. I drank a little bit o'his blood, but if I hadn't, I'd
be dead."
Mike's face was hard. On one hand he was glad that Rory was okay and had been
saved from these men who attacked him, but on the other hand it made him
furious that the vampire had given Rory his blood to drink. "Are you nuts?"
Mike asked sternly. "Drinking vampire blood is like taking drugs. Like crack or
something. It does things to you, it's… it isn't safe!"
Rory stood up abruptly. "That blood is what saved me life! Even after chasing
those guys off, I was good for dead, but Sam hurt himself to give me his blood
so it would heal me!" Sam put his hand on Rory's arm, urging him to sit back
down. "Sam, he doesn't understand; it isn't a bad thing, ye'r blood. It didn't
hurt me, it helped me. He has to know that!"
"Rory, please. Calm down. He's only concerned for your safety, as any good
friend should be," Sam said soothingly.
"Can't ye' just make him understand?" Rory asked, annoyed. It was almost as if
Mike was no longer there, as if it were no big deal what he was asking of his
boyfriend.
Sam shook his head. "No. I refuse to do that. I may have tried to make you
forget that night, and even that wasn't the right thing to do, but I'm not
going to manipulate people to accept me and my kind. They have to accept us of
their own free will."
Mike raised an eyebrow, impressed as he witnessed the exchange in front of him.
Rory, his friend, actually asked Sam to glamour him, and Sam refused on the
ground of morality. It was definitely something he hadn't expected out of
either of them.
"Sam, look, I'm going to try my best to trust you, alright? Vampires are still
new to us even if you've existed for thousands of years before, and we're still
getting used to the idea of living together in the world. I'm sure in your
years you've seen how that goes. I'm going to put faith in you because I have
faith in Rory," Mike explained, looking Sam directly in the eyes without fear.
It was a brave thing to do—vampires needed direct eye contact in order to
glamour someone, and Mike was offering Sam the ideal moment to take him over,
yet Sam wasn't making any inclination to do so.
"I appreciate that," Sam said simply. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mike,
and I hope you'll see that I'm not like the vampires you see on television.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to let Rory finish his shift while I have a
drink." He was more than ready to move on moreso because of Rory's agitation
than his own discomfort.
All three men stood up, Rory leaving first. Before Sam followed behind him, the
blonde paused and leaned in toward Mike so as not to be overheard. "I know what
you are. You can trust that I will keep your secret, and see that I am indeed a
dependable person." He didn't wait for a response, but turned around and left,
Rory only feet ahead of him.
Mike sat back down, breathing deeply. So he knows. I should have guessed, vamps
have that sixth sense thing going on. I wonder if he knows about Tina, too.
Probably... Tina. He better leave her out of everything. I don't want her
knowing that he knows about either of us, and I don't want her to be afraid.
-ooo-
As soon as Rory's shift was finished, Sam waited patiently for him outside
while the staff members locked up. When Rory emerged from the door, Sam took
him in his arms for a strong hug.
"Ready to go home?" Sam whispered in the boy's ear.
"Do I 'ave to? Can't I come stay with ye' for a little while?" the Irishman
begged, staring into Sam's eyes. "Please?"
Sam smiled. "How can I resist that face? Those beautiful eyes? Fine, we'll-" He
was interrupted by the vibration of his phone on his hip. He looked down and
checked the message. "Crap. Sebastian."
Come to Scandals IMMEDIATELY. Bring the boy with you.
"What does it say?" Rory asked, noticing the worried look on his boyfriend's
face. "Is e'erything okay?"
The vampire shook his head. "No. Sebastian wants me to come to the bar. And he
wants me to bring you."
"Me? Why me? Do ye' think he knows about me ability?"
Sam thought a moment. "No, but I think he has a dangerous infatuation with you.
He can't glamour you like he can other humans. He can have any human he wants
with a look in his eyes, but you are a challenge and I know him well enough to
know what he's up to."
"Well, he can try all he wants to, but he can't glamour me, and I find him
rather repulsive. The only vampire I'll be going home with tonight, is ye',"
Rory stated confidently. It was strange—ever since drinking Sam's blood, he
seemed to be more assertive, more secure. It was as if something in the blood
had stayed with him, more than it did with most humans. Whatever it was, it did
something to him and so far it seemed for the better.
-ooo-
Sam reminded Rory to stay by his side as they entered the vampire club. It was
crowded, as usual, with plenty of vampires dancing with
humans—fangbangers—looking for a cheap thrill of going home with a vampire for
sex. Sam rolled his eyes as they walked purposefully toward Sebastian's throne.
"Well, well, well, the view from up here is suddenly so much better," Sebastian
cooed, eyeing Rory.
"Can we skip the banter? What do you want, Sebastian?" Sam demanded. "I need to
get him home. Don't forget, he's a human and actually needs to sleep at night."
Sebastian didn't tear his gaze away from his prey. "It looks like you picked a
rather rude vampire to be your companion," he teased, the corner of his mouth
rising in a smirk.
"I picked a perfect companion, thank ye' very much," Rory stated confidently.
"He's a perfect gentleman, to people who earn his respect."
The sheriff feigned surprise by the response. "Looks like you've grown sassier
yourself since I last saw you. Incredibly sexy, don't you think Santana?"
"I'd find him much more entertaining if he were a woman. As far as I'm
concerned, he's just a potato-eating foreigner with some sort of chip on his
shoulder," the woman said sarcastically, sneering at the Irish boy. She was
dressed in a tight red cocktail dress, except there were tiny studs lining the
hems. When she moved, the lights in the ceiling would reflect and shimmer,
drawing attention to her figure.
"Can the insults, Santana," Sam ordered. "I'll ask you again, what do you
want?" he asked, returning his attention to Sebastian.
Sebastian sighed, annoyed. "Fine, since you don't want to humor me. We found a
witness to the murder. I want you to see what you can get out of him," he said.
"Why me? Why don't you or your lackey do it?" the blonde asked, glaring at
Santana.
"Because it's part of your assignment. I give orders; you follow them. Got it?"
Sebastian's mouth was no longer smirking, but cold and serious.
Sam sighed. "Fine. But what do you want with Rory? Why does he need to be here?
He needs to go home," he said, again annoyed.
"I want to look at him. He's beautiful," the sheriff stated, standing. He
approached the teenager and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. Rory
jerked backward, glaring at the vampire.
"Don't touch me," the teen ordered harshly. "I'm not yours."
"Fine, fine, fine. I'll have you one way or the other, eventually," Sebastian
declared, grinning. "Santana, bring in the witness. We'll be waiting in the
office."
The Hispanic woman strolled off of the stage and through a door near the bar,
Sebastian rising and leading the two younger men through a door and into his
personal office. It was surprisingly ordinary, having no decoration, simply a
desk, chairs, and a computer. Santana returned seconds later, pushing along a
tall, bulky man who physically didn't look to be much older than Sam. Santana
ushered him between the desk and chairs and then forced him down onto his
knees.
"Okay, Samuel. Get to work. I want to know what he saw. I want to know what it
was that killed that human," Sebastian demanded, sitting back down. Sam gave
him one last glare before crouching down in front of the agitated prisoner.
"What's your name, kid?" Sam asked, trying to hold back the irritation in his
voice.
The teen sneered at him, but answered his question anyway. "The name's David.
Karofsky. I'm on the football team, so you dudes better know people will notice
I'm missing. I'm the star linebacker."
"David, I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer me
honestly," Sam said soothingly, ignoring the threat. He locked eyes with David,
drawing the teen into him.
Oh me God, this must be what a glamour looks like, Rory thought. He shivered as
he watched Sam gazing at the boy, talking smoothly to him and asking questions.
The entire time, Sebastian was staring at Rory, while Santana filed her nails,
completely disinterested.
"What did the thing that attacked Joe Hart look like?" Sam asked. David opened
his mouth to speak, but suddenly had a violent reaction to the query. He jumped
up and began to thrash about angrily, yelling word salad as he did so.
Santana, rolling her eyes, shoved the boy backward, who reached out to grab for
anything he could to stay on his feet as he tripped over himself. The only
thing he grasped onto was Rory, whom he took down with him, the pair falling
into a heap on the floor.
A short being stood before Joe Hart, leaning forward and whispering into his
ear. A flash of white and then she was standing behind him. A flash of white
and she was touching the boy. A flash of white and she was whispering into his
ear again. A flash of white and the boy began to move in an unnatural motion. A
flash of white and Rory saw the gruesome death of Joe Hart.
Rory screamed out as the images flooded into his head. The cries of agony took
everyone by surprise, David immediately jumping up and grunting, pulling his
hands toward his chest. Sam rushed to Rory's side, crouching down and helping
him into a sitting position.
"I saw it! I saw what happened!" Rory cried, tears flowing down his cheeks,
sweat on his forehead, matting his hair to his head. "I saw it all, it was… it
was horrible…"
"You saw it? You saw what he was thinking?" Sebastian asked, getting up from
his chair and approaching the boy and his vampire companion, his expression no
longer playful but something much harder. "How did you see what was in his
head? Tell me, now!"
Sam exchanged worried glances at his charge. Apparently when David fell into
Rory and grabbed him, their flesh connected, and Rory saw the memories the boy
had ingrained into his head. The images were so horrifying that Rory forgot he
was supposed to keep mum in front of Sebastian and Santana.
"I… I didn't… Sam?" Rory looked at Sam for support, wishing there was something
he could do to erase what just happened.
"So it looks like there really is more to this boy than first glance.
Fascinating. I must know more," Sebastian said slyly. He held out his hand to
assist the teen, but Rory hesitated and shifted his gaze to his boyfriend,
allowing Sam to help him up instead. The sheriff shook his head. "I don't know
why you insist on resisting me. I may not be able to glamour you, but you have
to admit my natural charm is just too much to pass by."
"Ye' 'ave no charm, sir," Rory said with disgust. "Ye'r a conceited jer-"
Sam squeezed Rory's hand, urging him to stop. "That's enough. He's still very
powerful, and it's not a good idea to make him angry," he said in a hushed
voice in Rory's ear.
"I think we need to explore this a little more, if you don't mind," Sebastian
stated, smirking at Rory, who had an irritated look on his face. "Santana, show
our guests to the lounge and see to it they're shown proper hospitality. A Type
O for Mr. Evans, and a glass of red wine for our handsome mind-reading friend."
Annoyed but obedient, Santana walked away toward the door she had earlier
dragged David out of. Sebastian, meanwhile, picked up David from the floor,
staring into his eyes. Neither Sam nor Rory could hear what was being said, but
David obediently walked toward the same room as the others, but took the side
door in the small hallway, shutting it behind him.
"Somehow it's so much more satisfying when they lock themselves in their own
prison," Sebastian said to himself, grinning. He stepped down from the stage,
and strolled through the door into the hallway, closing it behind him.
-ooo-
Santana opened the door of Sebastian's private lounge, motioning for his two
guests to sit down on the oversize black velvet sofa. "I'll be back with your
drinks," she stated dryly. She gave them one last glare before exiting the
room. It was larger than the office, with numerous curtains and fabrics on the
walls, another throne-like chair for Sebastian to sit in, a sofa, mini-bar,
pool table with red velvet covering, and a large sound system set into the
wall, a widescreen flat panel television mounted above it.
"Don't be scared," Sam whispered to his young mate, who was already sweating
nervously. "I can hear your heart racing. Calm down. Confidence. Don't let him
get to you." He placed a gentle kiss on the boy's lips just as the door opened,
Santana already returning with their drinks. She handed Sam a Tru Blood,
popping the cap for him, and then a large glass of some red liquid to Rory.
The teen brought the glass to his nose, wrinkling it at the strange smell.
"What is this?"
"Red wine, just like Sebastian ordered. It won't hurt you, it's just fermented
grapes," Santana replied, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Sam, it's not enough
to get him drunk. Such a shame, because that could be quite amusing," the woman
said with a smirk.
"Santana, have you ever tried not being so unpleasant? I mean, I would think
after a hundred and some odd years the bitter, sarcastic vampiress routine
would have gotten a little stale," Sam fired at her, his voice laced with his
own sarcasm.
The woman glared at him angrily. "Shove it, Samuel before I rip those trouty
lips right off your face."
"They'd just grow back. Give it your best shot anyway," Sam replied arrogantly.
"Where's Sebastian? We haven't got all night. I need to get him home," he
added, nodding toward Rory.
Santana said nothing as she marched out of the room, the door reopening a
moment later, Sebastian entering cheerfully.
"Well gentlemen, comfy?" he asked. Rory nodded, but Sam gave no indication that
Sebastian had even spoke. "No need to be rude, Sam. I just want to ask some
questions."
"Can we make this quick, Sebastian? Please? Honestly, I do need to get him
home. Don't forget he's human; they sleep at night," Sam requested in a much
more polite tone.
Sebastian smirked. "You said that earlier," he said, glaring at Sam. "Fine,
fine. We'll keep it short. I wouldn't want him to miss out on his beauty sleep.
After all, I want him to keep that lovely shine in his eyes." Rory blushed at
the compliment. He had become used to Sam saying nice things to him, but
another person—practically a stranger—making such pointed compliments was
flattering but at the same time, unsettling. It was like receiving a compliment
from the devil.
Before the sheriff could begin his interrogation, Rory spoke up. "I don't know
why I can see what I see. I don't even really know how. I just know that when I
touch someone's skin, I can read their memories. Like a switch goes off in me
brain that plays the images in me head," he explained. "I don't know what else
ye' expect me to tell ye'."
Sebastian pressed his fingertips together, bringing his hands in front of his
mouth. "For some odd reason, I believe you. What I don't believe is that you're
human."
Sam and Rory both exchanged puzzled glances at each other then turned to look
at the sheriff.
"What do ye' mean, I'm not human? I am! Look at me. I'm alive, living and
breathing and with a heartbeat and e'erything!" Rory insisted. "I am human!
What else would I be?"
Sebastian smiled, waving his head from side to side as he thought deeply. "See,
that's what I don't know. That's why I want to do some tests-"
"No! You're not experimenting on him!" Sam interrupted, standing up angrily.
"He's not a lab rat!"
"Calm down, young man. Mind your manners," Sebastian scolded, motioning for Sam
to sit back down. "All I want to do is have him mind-read a few people, that's
all. What I want him to do, though, is to see how far he can push his mind into
them. How far back he can see, how clearly, and more importantly, if he can
alter or erase those memories."
"I ne'er tried any o'that before. I try not to read anything at all. Half the
time when I do, it's things I don't want to see, like with that boy, David. I
don't want to see into people's heads. I want to be able to just touch people
without 'aving to concentrate on trying not to read them," Rory confessed, his
eyes watering.
Sebastian's features softened. "I don't mean to make you cry," he said
soothingly. "It's important you find out the extent of your ability, don't you
think? It could be valuable."
Again Sam was angry and made an outburst. "You're not going to exploit him like
some sort of lie detector or computer!" he yelled. "Don't you see how upset
you're making him?"
The sheriff removed a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and handed it to the
boy. "Here, wipe your tears. Don't think of this as experimentation, Mr.
Flanagan. Think of it as me helping you explore what you can do. Maybe in the
process you can even discover a way to shut it off more easily. Maybe you'll
even discover you have much more in that pretty head of yours to offer. All I
want in exchange is a few readings from some guests of mine. It won't take you
any time at all, I'm sure."
Sam started to say something but Sebastian cut his eyes at him. "Yes, I know,
he's yours. But don't forget, Samuel, that I am your sheriff, and as such I can
order you to let me do as I wish with him. Don't make me go that route; it's so
unpleasant." Sam pursed his lips in agitation, knowing that Sebastian had him
locked into a corner.
"Let him think about it," Sam said pointedly. "Give him twenty-four hours to
think about it and make up his mind. I'll bring him back here tomorrow night
and he can give you an answer. Whatever he decides, respect it. Can you agree
to that?"
Sebastian chuckled, amused. "Setting terms, are we? Mr. Evans, your boldness
arouses me. What balls you must have to make such demands. It's not often
someone is so forward. I'll humor you, child. If he decides not to cooperate,
then I'll release him and allow him to go about his business. Otherwise, I get
to conduct these exercises with him as I need to."
The sheriff stood up and reached out with his hand. Rory leaned forward to
shake it, sealing the agreement. Sam stared at the elder vampire, disgusted.
"Let's get out of here," Sam said, standing up and taking Rory by the hand. The
boy stood up as well, anxiously following Sam as he headed out of the door,
leaving both of their drinks untouched.
Santana quickly came back into the room, noting the wide grin on Sebastian's
face. "What's so amusing?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing. Just a little deal I made. I guess I should have been slightly
clearer on the terms. I may have agreed to leave the boy alone if he chose, but
what I forgot to mention was that as a result, Sam will be punished for
insubordination on behalf of his human," the man stated. Santana simply
grinned, moving behind the man and draping her arms over his chest. She then
dug her nails into his chest, tearing off his shirt and spinning him around in
the chair to face her. He grinned as she crawled up onto his lap, feverishly
tearing at his pants, hiking up her dress. He pulled down the top of the dress
to reveal her breasts to him, extended his fangs, and then bit into one of
them, eliciting a moan from the woman. That was just the beginning of the
night-long love making session between maker and progeny.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 4: History *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: So how are you guys liking the story so far? It was
     at this point that I really decided to go further with it than I had
     originally planned. I was just having way too much fun with it. I
     really like this chapter because as the title says, there is a lot of
     character backstory and history here and I really loved writing it
     and plan to expand on it more in the future. Enjoy!

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 4: History
Once Sam and Rory were in the vehicle and down the road a ways, Sam finally
thought it was time to discuss Sebastian's proposal.
"You don't have to do it, Rory. He can't force you to play his little game,"
the older teen began. "You can't trust Sebastian for anything. I don't want to
see you in danger." He slid his hand over to Rory's, grasping it and lacing
their fingers together.
"I know. I 'ave to admit, though, I'm curious about me ability. I ne'er really
understood it, and if I 'ave a chance to figure it out, I kind o'want to," the
younger teen confessed, staring out the window as if too ashamed to look at his
boyfriend.
Sam sighed quietly, inwardly frustrated. "It's your decision. I'll respect it,
and I'll be there to protect you. You won't be left alone with them, not even
for a second."
"Thank ye', Sam. I know ye'll keep me safe. I trust ye'," Rory replied. He
squeezed Sam's hand and looked over at him. "Do I 'ave to go home already?"
Sam cocked his head. "It's really late. You need your rest, and won't your
caretakers worry about you being out so late?"
Rory bit his bottom lip and stared down at his lap sheepishly. "I uh… I kind
o'wanted to ask ye' about that…" Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what
Rory was about to say. "Can ye', ye' know, make them not worry? Make it okay
for me to be out so late, with ye' I mean."
"You want me to glamour them, is that right? Glamour them so they give you
permission to be out all night and not worry about you, right?"
Rory blushed, suddenly embarrassed. He quietly nodded his head, ashamed he even
thought of it let alone asked.
"You know that's a very dishonest thing to do. I don't like to glamour people
if I don't have to. It's lying, and making them believe the lie against their
will. You get that, right?" Sam asked, stealing a glance over at the unnerved
boy.
"I… yes, I get it. I shouldn't 'ave asked. I just wanted them to not worry
about me when I get home so late, so I can spend more time with ye'. The
daytime isn't exactly an option for us," Rory explained quietly. "I understand,
though."
Sam smiled innocently. "As long as you understand that, and are comfortable
with that, I'll do it for you. As much as I care about you, though, I'm putting
this one on you. It's your choice to lie to them. If you're okay with that, if
you accept the responsibility of it, I'll do it."
Rory gulped, still looking down. "I do. I understand. I don't like to lie, but…
this is different. It's for us. I'm tired of not being able to spend more time
with ye', and this is the only way. They'd ne'er approve o'me being with a
vampire."
"Okay. You decide when we do it, and I'll do it. But you have to look me in the
eyes and ask me, tell me you want to do this. There's no risk of glamouring
you, so I want to know you are a hundred percent sure before we go through with
it," Sam said.
The young teen inhaled deeply as if he were Oliver Twist about to ask for more
food. He waited until they were at a stoplight so Sam could gaze into his eyes.
Rory stared right at him and said the words. "Sam, glamour me host family; help
me lie to them, so I can stay out in the night with ye' and e'erything will be
okay."
Sam smiled. "Yes, sir," he said lightly, leaning over for a quick kiss before
the light turned green. "Don't make this a habit. This is one time. I don't
like to do it," he reminded him.
"I know. I'm sorry, but I need ye' t'do this for me. I won't e'er ask ye' to do
it again," the teen vowed.
"When do you want to do this?"
Rory thought a moment. "Tomorrow evening? Ye' can drive me home, and I can
invite ye' in t'meet them, and then ye' can… ye' know, do ye'r spell."
"One of them will have to invite me in since it's their residence; you're just
a visitor, but fine, we can do it tomorrow. It gives me time to think about
what I'll say to them," Sam agreed.
One more turn and they had arrived at Rory's temporary home. Sam opened the car
door for him to let him out, kissed him goodnight, and watched until he
disappeared behind the door.
On the drive home, Sam couldn't stop thinking about the glamour. It was a
talent that he had unfortunately mastered in his hundred fifty-three years as a
vampire. When he first turned, like every newborn he went wild with his
newfound power, glamouring women to sleep with him for over three decades
before he finally made the choice to stop, and to try to become the person he
was as a human. From then on, the only time he worked his skill was to feed on
a human, allowing them to give themselves up to him and then erasing any memory
of the entire incident, leaving them in their beds, weakened, but otherwise
okay.
Sam tried to understand Rory's point. It was endearing that he was so set on
spending as much time together as possible, but it also made him a little sad
that Rory had to resort to lying to his caretakers for the freedom. As he
agreed, however, he would do it just this once, just for him.
Just for him. Because Rory wanted it. Because it would make Rory happy. It had
been over fifty years since Sam even partially felt love in his heart, and as
fast as it all seemed to be going, he couldn't help but start to feel like he
was perhaps feeling that strongly about the teenager. His feelings of affection
and admiration were turning into something much stronger, and it genuinely made
Sam feel good. He could actually feel his skin warm slightly, a phenomenon he
didn't think was possible. Rory was definitely good for him. Sam smiled as he
pulled into the driveway, got out of the car and went into his home. It was
still early for him, so he went to his office for a while before retreating to
a movie before it was time to tuck himself into his coffin for the daytime.
-ooo-
Rory sat nervously in the car, silently praying to himself that he was doing
the right thing. He had always been taught that lying was never the right thing
to do, but in this case, he felt like he was doing the Pierce family a favor by
forcing them to not be concerned with his safety and whereabouts during the
night.
Sam opened the door for him, and held out his hand to help him out, even though
he didn't need it—it was simply the vampire's way of being a gentleman. They
had agreed that they would mention neither the fact that Sam was a vampire, nor
that the two of them were dating. That would only complicate things.
The younger teen had planned it out perfectly. He would pretend he forgot his
key and ring the doorbell. One of the family would answer the door and Rory
would introduce Sam, and with luck, whoever answered the door would invite him
inside. After that, it was up to Sam to take the opportunity to 'charm' his way
into clouding their minds.
Rory pushed the doorbell, hearing the chime in the house. It was only nine-
twenty, and he was never expected to be home before that anyway. Mrs. Pierce
answered the door, confused. "Rory dear, what are you ringing for? You have a
key," she said softly.
"I know. I must 'ave left it on me nightstand. I'm sorry," he apologized. Mrs.
Pierce smiled sweetly and nodded. "Oh, this is me friend, Sam. He gave me a
ride home t'night."
"How lovely of him," she replied, not taking the bait like Rory had hoped. She
looked up at the man and when she did, she made eye contact just long enough
for Sam to capture her gaze.
"Hello, Mrs. Pierce. I'm Sam, his friend. Will you invite me in?" Sam said in
an almost arousing tone of voice. Rory bit his bottom lip to keep quiet. He
realized that Sam had already begun his 'magic'.
"Oh yes, of course. Come on in, honey," the woman said, standing aside and
motioning for the pair to come inside. Sam blinked his eyes, breaking the
connection. He had no desire to control these people's minds any longer than he
had to. "Hon, we have a guest!" she called out to her husband.
Mr. Pierce came into the hall, yawning. "Who came over at this hour? Oh,
hello," he said, first addressing his wife, and then taking notice of the
blonde stranger. "Who are you and why are you in my house?"
"Oh honey don't be rude, he's Rory's friend. He gave him a ride home and I
thought it polite to ask him in for a moment," Mrs. Pierce scolded.
"Sorry, just been a bad day at work and all. Didn't mean to be so rude," the
man said, embarrassed that he had just been reprimanded by his wife in front of
a complete stranger. He held out his hand to shake, hoping to make amends.
Sam locked eyes with him right away, capturing his stare. "I'm Sam, Rory's
friend. I've come to talk to you and your wife about his well being. Shall we
go to the living room?"
Without question, the Pierces led the boys into the living room. Mr. and Mrs.
Pierce sat on the couch, facing the boys in the armchairs. Fortunately, the
adults were sitting close together, and Sam had glamoured multiple people at
once several times before, in his 'wild days'. He leaned into them and took
their eyes, urging them both to stare into his own at the same time.
"You both know that Rory is a big boy. He's old enough to take care of
himself," Sam began. Both of his 'victims' slowly nodded their heads in
understanding. "You have no need to worry about him when he isn't home. In
fact, you don't need to worry at all, because he will always be safe," he went
on, pausing to let the glamour take hold in their heads.
Rory watched, unsure if he was more frightened of what Sam was doing, right in
front of him, or terrified of himself for letting his boyfriend go through with
this at his request.
"Rory will always be safe, because he will be with me. I am like his bodyguard,
completely devoted to protecting him from harm. Rory has permission from now on
to stay out as late as he wishes, and will always return home by dawn."
The Pierce family nodded their heads again then repeated in unison, "Rory will
be safe. We have no reason to worry. He can stay out as long as he wants to. He
will be safe with you."
Sam smiled, satisfied that his suggestions had taken hold. He let the
glamouring settle into their minds before he blinked his eyes, severing the
connection.
Sam stood up, holding out his hand. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both,
but I really have to be getting home. It's late."
"Rory dear, are you joining him?" Mrs. Pierce asked innocently. Rory nodded
slowly, rising from the armchair. "Well make sure you're home no later than six
in the morning. You need your sleep before you have to go to work, sweetheart."
"Yes, ma'am," the teen replied, saying nothing else.
"You two have fun. I'd say be safe but I know he'll be fine, right Sam?" Mr.
Pierce said, his entire demeanor having changed from when he first entered the
room.
"Yes, sir. He will be safe and sound," Sam replied. He took Rory's hand and led
him out of the front door. The two Pierces acted as if nothing had happened,
nor noticed that the boys were holding hands, as if they had simply met Rory's
friend and nothing more.
When they got in the car, Sam looked over at his boyfriend, who was staring off
into space.
"What's wrong? I did what you asked," Sam inquired as he started the car. His
tone was flat, obviously dismayed at what he had just done.
"I guess I'm just amazed," the boy admitted. "I didn't expect it to go so fast.
To be so easy like that."
Sam huffed lightly. "Easy for you, because you didn't have to do it. I told you
I don't approve of the idea anymore, but I did it for you. You got what you
wanted, and now it's time I got what I want."
Rory suddenly looked worried, his eyes widening. Oh me God, what does he mean
by that? Is he ready for us to… do it?
Sam chuckled. "What are you so afraid of? I just want you to sing to me."
"Sing to ye'?"
"I know you have a beautiful voice. I've heard you quietly singing to yourself
at work, and when you're waiting for your ride. It's quiet, but I know it's
good. I want you to sing to me, in return for granting your favor," Sam stated
with a smile.
"Okay. But do we 'ave to do it here? Can we go somewhere that's a little more…
romantic?" Rory asked, blushing in the darkness.
Sam started to drive down the street, pausing for a stop sign before
continuing. "I know a place we can go that's just right. I can listen to your
beautiful voice in solitude, with nobody to interrupt us."
Rory smiled, happy to focus on something other than the dirty deed he had just
made his boyfriend do for him. He owed it to Sam to do what he asked, even
though he knew Sam wouldn't force him to. It would be his first time singing
for a special someone, but he was glad it was Sam. It just seemed right.
-ooo-
"Here?" Rory asked, looking around. Sam had driven the car to a park, the pair
of them getting out and walking deep into the woods. Had he been alone, or with
anyone else, Rory would have felt very nervous in the woods at night, but with
Sam he felt completely safe.
In the middle of the woods was a clearing—a lake with a pier that at the end,
was home to a gazebo. The moonlight shone down, reflecting on the still lake
water, giving them just enough light to guide their way down the dock and to
the gazebo.
"Yes, here," Sam answered, sitting down on one of the benches. "This is a good
spot, because your voice will echo into the night air, it's otherwise silent
here, and the scenery is gorgeous." He smiled as he gazed at his boyfriend, the
moonlight catching his face.
"O-okay. I, uh, I don't know what to sing. What do ye' want me to sing for
ye'?" the teen asked, blushing. He wondered for a moment if Sam could see in
the dark the way a cat could, if Sam could see him blushing in the darkness.
Sam thought a moment. "Sing something… that's close to your heart," he
answered, grinning at the cheesiness of the instruction. When he saw the
slightly confused look on the boy's face, he gave him something more to work
with. "Pick something that means something to you. Something that says how you
feel. Something that reflects your emotions."
Rory was silent as he scanned his mind for such a song. He knew so many songs,
but he had never thought before about any of them having meaning, let alone
something so personal. Finally, something came to mind. It was old, but it had
been a favorite of his when he was a young kid, even though at that time it was
already out of date. His friends would chide him for the artist—The Backstreet
Boys—but that didn't matter.
"Do ye' want me to just stand here, or sit next to ye', or…?" Rory asked
nervously. In glee club it was either performed in front of the choir room for
the rest of the club, or it was part of an onstage performance. In this case,
he had no idea exactly what Sam wanted him to do.
Sam chuckled. "Do whatever comes natural. Just close your eyes, start singing,
and however your body feels like moving, it will do it," Sam replied. The young
teen nodded, swallowing back his nervousness. He stood against the side of the
gazebo, facing out toward the water, looking up at the moonlight. Finally he
opened his mouth to sing the words.
Open up your heart to me
And say what's on your mind, oh yes
I know that we have been through so much pain
But I still need you in my life this time
At the beginning of the chorus, he turned around, facing Sam's smiling face,
looking deep into his eyes. Eyes that should have been lifeless, but were
anything but.
And I need you tonight
I need you right now
I know deep within my heart
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right
I really need you tonight
By now, Rory was becoming more comfortable with his performance. He slowly
started to walk away from the rail and toward Sam, still keeping his gaze.
I figured out what to say to you
But sometimes the words they, they come out so wrong, always they do
And I know in time that you will understand
That what we have is so right this time
When Rory hit the chorus this time, he sat down next to his boyfriend, leaning
his head against Sam's shoulder. He sang the words with such conviction, such
genuine meaning, that he began to tear up.
And I need you tonight
I need you right now
I know deep within my heart
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right
All those endless times we tried to make it last forever more
And baby I know
I need you
I know deep within my heart
It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right
I really need you, oh
I need you tonight (I need you, oh I need you baby)
I need you right now (It's gotta be this, it's gotta be this)
I know deep within my heart
No, it doesn't matter if it's wrong or it's right
All I know is baby
I really need you tonight
Rory trailed off the last words, leaning over until he was lying with his head
in Sam's lap, tears having finally taken over. It was a very quiet sobbing, the
kind that was happy, not sad. Sam simply ran his fingers through the boy's
hair, cooing about how wonderful the song was.
"That one must really mean something to you if it brings up tears," the blonde
observed as he continued to stroke the boy's hair.
Rory sniffled, smiling, his head still in Sam's lap. "It does. It says exactly
how I feel. About… about ye'."
The vampire shifted the teen back up so that he was sitting, facing him. Sam
leaned in, keeping Rory's face still with a finger under his chin, and pressed
his lips firmly against the young teen's. Of course it was nowhere near their
first time kissing, but there was something different about this kiss. It was
innocent; it was simple, but it said so much.
They sat there for several minutes, Sam's arms wrapped around his young
boyfriend, occasionally taking a moment to gently kiss him..
It was getting late, and Sam could sense Rory's need for rest. He could feel
the slower breathing, the relaxed blood pressure. "Do you want to come home
with me tonight?" he asked softly.
Rory lifted his head and looked at Sam. "Yes. I do, I really do."
Sam smiled and kissed the top of the boy's head. "Good. I just want to have you
there with me, watch you fall asleep, watch you dream. Even though by dawn, I
have to hide away from the sun. That's when you'll need to go home."
"Okay. Will ye' sleep next to me? Or… I guess ye' don't get tired right now,
but will ye' lay with me?" the teen asked.
"Yes. Yes, I will. I'll tuck you in and lay with you until it's time for dawn."
"Ye' won't be bored, me just laying there?" Rory asked.
Sam shook his head. "No. I'll watch you sleep, and I have a book I can read as
well. I'll be just fine. I'm just like you—I don't have to be having an
adventure to be content."
As they walked out of the gazebo, neither of them mentioned to the other that
they could hear the faint sound of a woman, singing, off in the distance.
By the time they arrived at Sam's house, Rory was already half asleep, barely
able to keep his eyes open.
-ooo-
Sam carried Rory into his house and up to the bedroom. It was a room he hadn't
actually used, ever, but not long after moving in, he had decided that he
wanted his house to look like a home, and part of that look was standard
bedrooms. He laid Rory down on the king-sized mattress, positioning the pillow
under his head just right. He gazed down at the slumbering boy, beautiful in
his innocence.
The vampire had considered taking Rory's jeans off at least, for comfort, but
he didn't want the teen to think he had been violated, or barriers crossed. He
settled for removing his shoes, which he placed at the foot of the bed. Sam
carefully sat on the edge of the bed, bringing his legs up, and sliding up next
to his boyfriend, wary of waking him. He turned off the small lamp on the
bedside table, leaving the room in complete darkness as he listened to the
steady rhythm of a human heartbeat right next to him.
-ooo-
Rory only slept about two hours before waking again. He found that Sam had
stayed right next to him the entire time, a Kindle Fire in his hands as he read
from the glowing screen. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" Sam asked as Rory sat
up, scooting back until he was right next to the man.
"No, not at all. I just woke up," Rory replied with a shrug. He peeked over at
the book Sam was reading, noticing that the font size was much larger than a
normal book. "Why are the words so big?"
If vampires could blush, Sam would have been a deep red at that moment. He
clicked off the power button, setting the reader on the nightstand. "I have
trouble with the words," he admitted. Wanting to be able to see his boyfriend
in the light, Sam reached aside and clicked the lamp on. The room filled with a
soft glow, just enough light to feel romantic.
"What d'ye' mean? Like ye' need glasses or something?"
Sam shook his head. "No. I uh… see, when I was still human, I couldn't read at
all. I tried. I even got in trouble over it. Nobody could seem to understand
that I just could not read. I learned decades later that I have a condition
called dyslexia, which jumbles up the letters sometimes and can make it harder
to read. It's easier to deal with now, but back then they didn't know what that
was. They just thought I was too stupid for schooling, so my parents took me
out of school and taught me everything about the farm instead."
Rory listened intently. It was a strange concept to think that a vampire could
have a reading disorder, especially since they had special healing abilities.
Apparently, however, that didn't 'heal' everything. When he heard Sam call
himself stupid, that got to him.
"Sam, ye' aren't stupid! Don't e'er say that again!" the teen burst out. "It's
not ye'r fault they didn't know back then. If they did, ye' could 'ave gotten
help and stayed in school."
Sam stroked Rory's hair with one hand. "Don't worry. I don't think I'm stupid
anymore. I did for a long time though, even after I became vampire. It wasn't
until the early nineteen-hundreds that I think I started to actually get some
help."
"What did ye' do?"
The vampire chuckled. "I did what any sensible adult would do. I got a tutor,"
he replied. He chuckled again as he noticed Rory's bewildered look. "I did. It
was another vampire—a woman—and in her human life she had been a teacher. She
was much older than me by eighty years, but she was patient and understood what
was going on with me."
"That was really nice o'her. Did ye' 'ave to pay her? How did ye' 'ave money
then, were ye' rich?" the inquisitive young man asked.
Sam grinned. "No, I didn't pay her. Not in the usual sense. See… she and I had
a… special relationship. It was like what people call now 'friends with
benefits'."
A wave of understanding crossed over the human's features. "Ohhh, so ye' were
friends, and ye' got the benefit o'her teaching. That makes sense. So I guess
in a way, we're like that too. I get the benefit o'ye'r protection."
Sam swallowed to keep from laughing. "Uh, that's not what I meant. I meant that
we were friends, with the benefit of a sexual relationship as well. We didn't
date, we simply 'hung out' together, as they say. That included her teaching
me. A lot of times we ended up doing many other things as well. But it was
purely friendship."
"So where is she now?" Rory asked, a tiny ping of jealousy hitting him in the
chest.
"Gone. She met the true death in the sixties. I haven't spoken of her since
until just now," Sam replied, a sad tone in his normally mellow voice. He felt
Rory's hand roam over his lap and clasp his own hand, locking their fingers
together.
"True death… Is that when a vampire is… killed for good?"
Sam nodded slowly. "Yes. Vampires are considered already dead, so when a
vampire is destroyed, it's called the true death. I hope you never have to
witness that—it's a very gruesome affair."
"How… how does a vampire die? Get destroyed…" Rory went on.
Sam smirked. "You realize that we don't want our secrets common knowledge. We
can be killed with a wooden stake through the heart, wooden bullets,
decapitation, silver, sunlight—the ultraviolet light in particular. I know that
I can trust you to learn our secrets." None of his words were questions—they
were stated as fact, as if Sam already knew that Rory understood the bond
between them. "Well, silver is a little different. Bullets are more dangerous,
and any silver directly in the heart will kill us. Again. Any other time
though, it just hurts. A lot. It melts our flesh and burns and it's kind of
like what heated acid would be for a human."
"There's no coming back after that is there? No way to stop it, or reverse it?
Make ye' alive again?"
The blonde shook his head. "I'm afraid not. That's why it's the true death.
There is no coming back. In short, we sort of burst into a messy bunch of blood
and tissue. There's no way to come back from that. It'd be like trying to make
a human come back to life after they make a short visit to the food processor."
Rory winced at the mental image. "Okay, I get it. No reviving, so nobody better
come near ye' with any silver, wood, or anything else that can hurt ye', or
else I'll… I'll make sure they regret it!"
Sam laughed openly. "I admire your loyalty, but I think I'll be fine."
Rory snuggled up against Sam's side, sighing. He was feeling tired again, but
he loved talking to Sam, especially learning about his past. "Sam, will ye'
tell me how it happened now? How ye were made into a vampire, I mean," he asked
pleadingly.
"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's not the most pleasant story, and I
don't want you to worry or have nightmares," Sam explained. He waited for Rory
to respond in the affirmative before finally going through with his story.
-ooo-
Sam Evans wiped the sweat off his brow as the boiling sun beat down on his bare
torso. He had been chopping wood for the better part of the afternoon, piling
it up next to the farmhouse. He waved at his mother, who was hanging wet
clothes to dry on the clothesline.
Mr. Evans had been toiling away in the barn, the sound of hammering echoing out
through the door. He had been repairing a broken stable where something had
snuck into the barn and broken down a gate, getting to one of the cows.
Whatever had snuck in had done a number on the poor cow, leaving it broken in a
heap, yet oddly enough there was very little blood around.
There were rumors going around about livestock in the county suddenly dying,
some in rather gruesome ways, others looking like they just collapsed in place.
In every case there was little to no blood in the vicinity, leaving no evidence
behind. Every single farmer had experienced either a loss of an animal, or some
sort of vandalism, so everyone was under the impression that the guilty party
was either a very strong, very clever animal, or an outsider—a human who had no
business in the area whatsoever.
A few hours later, the sun began to set, and it was time for Mrs. Evans to
prepare dinner. The previous day, her husband had gone hunting and secured a
deer, which they would be eating for dinner that very night.
"Sam, honey, take your brother out back, the pair of you wash up. I'll tend to
your sister after supper," Mrs. Evans instructed as her son stood in the
doorway.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his little brother Steven darting through the kitchen
and past his brother into the yard. Sam sighed and turned around, chasing after
the child. It was a game between them—Steven would run around the yard trying
to dodge his older brother, refusing to go out back until he was captured. When
he finally snagged the boy, he wrangled him over his shoulder and to the small
shed in the back.
The shed wasn't really a shed, it was more like two walls and a roof, set
against the house. A hand-cranked water pump was accessible from the back where
Sam pumped water into the large, tin basin they used for their bathing.
"Alright kid, bathtime," Sam teased, unclasping the buttons on Steven's
overalls. "Off with the knickers and get in the tub," he instructed. The boy
did as he was told, a scowl across his face as he stepped gingerly into the
basin, the cold water sending shivers up and down his spine. "Quit whinin', we
all gotta do it. No such thing as a heated water pump," he said, taking off his
own trousers and stepping into the water.
Steven grabbed the cloth hanging on a nail in the wooden wall while Sam took
the bar of homemade soap sitting in the small tin bucket hanging on a nail on
the other side. Sam knelt down in the bin in front of his brother, taking the
cloth and soap and lathering the boy up.
"Okay kid, your favorite part," the teen teased sarcastically. He took a small
bucket and dipped it in the tub, then dumped it over Steven's body, dousing his
head and rinsing the suds from his small frame. He squealed in protest, but got
his revenge when he watched Sam have to dump the bucket over his own head after
washing himself off. The boys splashed back and forth a little, but didn't want
to waste too much of the water. When they had enough, Sam stepped out of the
basin and took another, larger fabric from yet another nail and dried himself
off before pulling his trousers back on.
"Come on Sammy, hurry up! I'm cold!" Steven whined. Sam smirked at him before
helping him step out of the basin and wrapping him up in the cloth. When he was
dried off, Sam helped him fasten his overalls back on.
"We better get inside. It's dark and I bet supper's almost ready. I can smell
it," the teen declared. Just as they stepped out of the shed and into the yard,
they were greeted by a tall figure standing between the house and the woods.
The stranger was dressed in unusual clothes—lots of tattered fabrics sewn
together in a patchwork outfit that was rather ugly. He had long hair pulled
back in a plait that reached his waist, and there was something about his eyes.
They seemed to glisten in the moonlight.
"Can I help you, stranger?" Sam asked, taking Steven's hand and ushering him to
stand behind him. The figure said nothing, but continued to glare right at Sam.
"Look, you need to get off our property. Go on up to town a few miles, get a
hotel or a brothel and keep out of trouble, ya hear?"
The figure shook its head slowly before finally speaking. "No. I have no
intention of going anywhere. Not yet," he said in a slow, deep tone. Sam
gritted his teeth, letting go of Steven's hand.
"Get father, tell him to bring his rifle," Sam ordered quietly. Steven turned
to run to the house but was stopped in his tracks, a brief gust of wind rushing
past the startled teenager. He turned and saw the stranger standing between his
brother and the house.
"Now now, don't be so hasty. We aren't done here yet," the man hissed, looking
down at Steven with hungry eyes. Sam didn't say anything but instead stepped
forward and threw his fist through the air, attempting to punch the intruder.
Instead, he hit nothing at all.
"Hmm, too slow it seems," the stranger teased.
"Steven! Go! Get help!" Sam barked. Steven wasted no time, making a mad dash
for the door. Sam could hear the boy screaming to his parents, he could hear
his father shouting orders to his wife to keep their daughter and son safe. Mr.
Evans purposefully walked out of the door, holding his rifle, ready to shoot.
"Get out of here!" Mr. Evans demanded. "Get out before I blow your damned head
off!" He aimed the rifle carefully, staring through the sight right at the man.
The stranger scoffed. "Give it your best shot, old timer," he said. Mr. Evans
didn't need anymore of an invite, and pulled the trigger.
When the smoke cleared from the gunshot, the stranger had moved with intense
speed behind Sam, holding the teen's arm behind him.
"I like your bravery, old man," the stranger taunted further. "You want to
protect your family. Admirable. Unfortunately, you took a shot at me. You tried
to take off my head. I think in return, I'll take something of yours."
Sam was struggling hard, but the stranger had a firm grip on his arm and had
wrapped his patchwork-covered arm across Sam's chest. "The worst pain a parent
can feel is the loss of a child." The stranger glared at Mr. Evans with an evil
glint in his eye. "I want this one."
"No! Spare him and take me instead! If a price must be paid—" Mr. Evans
shouted, but it was too late. The stranger had shifted his hands around,
holding Sam's head down, exposing his neck. Within a nanosecond, the man had
lowered his head and was sucking on the teen's neck, dark liquid pooling around
his lips.
Mr. Evans was frozen in horror. He told his body to move, to help his son, but
something was keeping him in place. Fear? He wasn't sure, all he knew was that
this intruder had begun to drink the blood of his first born child, the sound
of Sam's screams filling the night sky.
-ooo-
Rory sat with his jaw open, his eyes wide as Sam described the horrible event
of the night he was turned. He was shivering, not from cold but from fear. The
very idea that his boyfriend, a man who was now incredibly strong, had been
overpowered and taken against his will was frightening. He couldn't imagine Sam
in a state of weakness at all.
"Do you want me to go on? I can tell you're upset," Sam asked, pulling the teen
closer to him.
"No, go on. I want to hear. It's part o' ye'r past," Rory confirmed. Sam nodded
and picked up where he had left off.
-ooo-
When Sam awoke, he saw nothing but rock around him. A cave. He was in a cave.
Through the opening he could see trees and off in the distance, the moonlight.
He felt a throbbing pain in his neck, his body weak and his head spinning. He
tasted something foreign on his tongue. It had a coppery flavor, like metal had
been placed in his mouth. He raised his hand to his face, feeling some sort of
stickiness around his mouth. When he pulled pack his hand, he could see there
was a dark stain on his fingers.
Before he could even think, he felt a piercing pain in his neck, hands on his
body, and the little bit of strength he had remaining left his body, as he once
again passed out.
When Sam awoke the next time time, he felt heaviness on his body. He opened his
eyes but couldn't see. He could smell though. He inhaled and felt soil enter
his nose. As his body became more aware of itself, he could feel against his
skin the sensation of dirt. He was lying in dirt. No, he was buried in dirt.
The soil was loose enough for him to move his arms, and he began to dig his way
out. When he finally felt air, he climbed out of the hole he had been buried
in, covered in granules, looking around for any sign of what had happened to
him.
He saw the cave not far ahead, so he slowly crept through the woods, stealing a
glance into the opening. He felt a cold breeze and then heard a whisper in his
ear.
"Welcome to hell, kid," the voice laughed. "We're going to be together a long,
long time."
-ooo-
Rory sat in the bed, staring at Sam, who had streaks of crimson running down
his cheeks from his eyes.
"Oh me god, Sam. I… I don't know what t'say," Rory murmured. He reached out and
wiped away the disgusting tears from his boyfriend's face, not even
acknowledging the fact that he had cried blood. He then threw himself forward
into Sam's arms, sobbing into his chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry," he
whispered.
Sam stroked the teen's head, holding him tight. "It's alright. It's a hard
memory, even after all these years, but it's what happened. Now you know. Now
you know just how cruel the world can be, and why I want to keep you safe."
Rory pulled back, sniffling. "I'm sorry for asking ye' t'tell me. I'm so
sorry!" he cried. "It's so awful, nobody deserves that kind o'thing to happen!
Such a nightmare, Sam. Ye' didn't deserve that…"
"There's no changing what happened. After that, I went through a lot of
negative things in my life, things I will never be proud of. Things I feel
nothing but shame for. Murder. Rape," Sam confessed. "But over the years I
found my humanity again, and I knew that even though I had something very
terrible happen to me, I didn't have to let it destroy who I was. I had to
become a vampire, but I did not have to become a monster."
"Ye'… ye' raped people? Murdered people?" Rory asked, sitting back, his face
going blank.
Sam hung his head. "Yes. I did. I'm very ashamed of that. It's not who I am.
It's not how I was raised. Not as a human, anyway. It's a very difficult thing,
suddenly becoming vampire. It's not like puberty where just your voice changes
and hair grows in strange places," he chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood
with a joke.
"Well then, what is it like?" Rory asked, almost wishing he hadn't as soon as
the words left his mouth.
"Honestly? I hardly remember most of it. The beginning, that is. There's
images, flashes of memories, but nothing as vivid as what I remember about the
day I was changed. I remember I had an insatiable hunger I couldn't control. I
remember literally feeling like I was going insane. I was angry and confused,
and my maker, he was far from understanding. Everything he taught me was about
killing. And raping. He had a sick obsession with rape. Especially children. I
refused to be a part of any of that, even in my worst days. We parted ways
eventually; he releasing me as a free vampire. That was when we had our big
disagreement, when I declared I wasn't going to abide by his way anymore. "
The young teen listened silently to the revelations. He had never expected Sam
to have been capable of rape. Feeding on humans, he expected that. Tru Blood
was a recent invention, so there was no way around that before its appearance.
He had even accepted the fact that over a hundred years, Sam had been far from
virginal, but the idea that he had raped people was horrifying.
"You're disturbed. I can see it in your face, even with hardly any light.
You're scared. Disgusted," Sam stated sorrowfully. "I can't say that I blame
you. I would rather you know now, however, than be drawn too deeply into things
and find out later."
Rory looked up at Sam, catching his green eyes. "Sam, I… Ye' promise me that
isn't who ye' are anymore. At all. Promise me that person is gone. Tell me to
believe that ye' went from being made right to being who ye' are now. Make me
think that," he begged.
"Even if I could glamour you into thinking that, I wouldn't do it. I could
never bring myself to. I want you to know the real me, and still be able to lo-
" Sam paused as he realized the word about to slip from his lips.
"Love ye'?" Rory finished for him.
Sam nodded. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I don't want you to fall in love with a
fantasy, with lies. I want to be loved for who I am, troubled past and all. I
can't ask you to forgive the horrible things I've done, but I can ask you to
trust me now, to believe in me, that I am a changed man from those days." He
stared deep into Rory's eyes, a tactic often used for glamouring, but Rory was
immune, and Sam was incredibly thankful for that.
Rory sighed deeply. "This is a lot to take in. I 'ave strong feelings for ye',
Sam. I want to believe in ye'. I guess the best I can do is let ye'r past be
ye'r past, and care for who ye' are now." He blinked his eyes, looking almost
mournful. Sam wanted to hug him, to kiss him, but hesitated. He didn't want the
boy to feel influenced by physical sensations.
"What are ye' waitin' for, Sam? I said I want ye' t'let go o'ye'r past. Live
now. Be the man ye' want to be loved. Be that man. Let me fall in love with
him. With ye'." Rory gazed into Sam's eyes again, pleading for the vampire to
understand what he was trying to get across. "Stop waiting. Hold me, and tell
me about ye'r new life. The good parts. Tell me the things ye' are proud of.
Things ye' aren't ashamed of. Put the devils behind ye', and move on."
Sam wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, blood-soaked tears filling his eyes.
"For sixteen you are so poetic and smart. Anyone ever tell you that?"
Rory scoffed. "No, ne'er. They all say I'm a big, clumsy idiot."
Sam kissed him on the forehead. "Well they're wrong. Because in a hundred and
seventy years I haven't heard anyone say something so genuinely wise as what
you just said to me," he admitted.
Rory yawned, hugging the vampire tightly again. "I'm so tired. Ye'r stories are
o'erwhelmin', but I'm glad ye' shared. Next time, tell me about the woman who
taught ye' to read. That has t'be a happy memory."
"Sure. I'd love to." Sam smiled and glanced at the clock on the bedside table.
It was incredibly late. "Maybe you should try to get back to sleep. I'll get
you home just before dawn, and then I'll see you again when the sun sets."
Rory snuggled up next to Sam, the pair of them sliding down into a lying
position, spooning.
"I really do 'ave a lot of special feelings for ye'. They get stronger e'ery
time I see ye'. I care about ye, so much."
"I do, too. About you. I don't want you to say the words until you feel them
though."
Rory didn't reply, but just nodded his head against Sam's chest. Sam didn't
have to specify what words he meant—Rory already knew. When he fell asleep, he
dreamt about Sam's story of being turned, except in his dream, Sam fought back
and never changed. In his dream, Sam was still an innocent farmboy, like he
should have been. When he woke up in his room the next morning, he wondered to
himself if Sam had never been made vampire, would he ever have found someone to
be with? Would either of them? He decided that they would never know, but all
that mattered was that they had found each other now, and things were going
well. The present was what mattered. Even without glamour, Rory could believe
that. The present was what they had, and the present was what made the future.
-ooo-
Santana sat on the arm of Sebastian's throne on Scandals' stage, her arm draped
around him, her fingers toying with the man's shirt collar. "What exactly do
you plan to do with this boy?" she asked with an almost disgusted tone.
Sebastian smirked as he answered her. "Nothing serious. I simply wanted an
excuse to get him alone, away from Sam. I'll get him to touch a couple of
humans to 'test out' his whatever it is he does, but mostly I just want him to
myself for a while. I want to bed him, and I want to know what the extent of
these powers are. They may be of use to me."
"You are sneaky, Sebastian. You just better hope he doesn't have any other
abilities that might surface, and you better be careful who he touches,"
Santana warned.
"You think I don't know that?" Sebastian hissed, shrugging her off of him. "I
won't be letting him into my head, nor should you let him into yours." He sat
up straight and sneered, unsure if he was more irritated with himself for
letting his libido overpower his common sense, or with Santana for bringing
that point to light. "Go man the bar or something," he ordered, wanting to be
alone for a while.
"Fine," she replied, annoyed. She got up off the chair and strutted over to the
bar, purposely exaggerating her movements as if trying to draw the attention of
any male, or female, in range of sight.
Sebastian checked his watch, an expensive gold piece with a crystal face. Sam
was due to show up with Rory any moment. He'd call Santana over if he needed
help tending to Sam. He had a feeling the young vampire wouldn't take kindly to
the idea of Rory going anywhere with him alone.
-ooo-
Sam pulled into the crowded parking lot of Scandals, eyeing the door as if it
were a gateway into hell. "You don't have to do this you know," he said
reassuringly.
Rory smiled faintly. "No, it'll be okay. Besides, I 'ave ye' there to protect
me from big bad Sebastian and Santana."
The vampire parked the car, getting out to open the door for his protégé. He
gave him a quick kiss and took his hand. "Just remember, don't let Sebastian
intimidate you. He can't glamour you, and you're mine, so he can't lay a finger
on you."
The teen nodded, taking a deep breath as they entered the bar. As usual, it was
dimly lit with lots of scantily clad men and women dancing about, the little
bit of clothing they were wearing consisting of leather and chrome-plated
chains. Overall, the people looked trashy with their excessive black makeup,
poorly dyed hair in ridiculous styles, and chrome body piercings in places
metal did not belong in.
"These people are disgusting, Sam," Rory whispered. "It's like a horror movie
mixed with porn."
Sam giggled. "Believe it or not, this is tame for vampires. There's a bar in
Louisiana that's a pure sex club. Ropes and chains and slings and all kinds of
rubber sex toys and lots and lots of raunchy bondage and orgies." Rory looked
even more disgusted than he had before, almost like he might throw up.
"Ha ha, don't worry, not my kind of place. I went there once, in 1980, and
after walking through the door I looked around the room and left. I hadn't
heard anything about the club before other than that it was a bit on the wild
side. It was gross. I was reformed by then of course," Sam explained. Rory
seemed relieved knowing that Sam hadn't participated in such raunchy
activities.
As they approached Sebastian's throne, the man was already grinning like a cat,
eyeing his prey. "Hello Samuel. Rory."
"Hi," Sam said with a hint of irritation. Rory greeted him back as well,
keeping the nervousness out of his voice.
"Let's get down to business," Sebastian announced. "I'll be taking the boy with
me, to meet a few of my human compatriots and a doctor of the supernatural
variety. I believe you know her—Shannon, the bouncer. She's very gifted. She
doesn't read those science textbooks out of boredom."
"I'm coming with you," Sam replied, his eyes as cold as steel as he stared at
Sebastian.
The sheriff scoffed loudly. "No. I don't need your interference with his
concentration. You can wait in my office, with Santana."
"I don't think so. Either I go with him, or we leave right now," Sam declared
icily.
Rory turned to Sam and put his hand on the man's chest. "It's fine. I'll be
alright. Remember what ye' said to me. I'll be safe." His pleading eyes told
Sam that he was confident in his decision, ready to face what lay ahead.
"Fine. If you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm coming to get you whether
Sebastian likes it or not," Sam replied.
Sebastian snapped his fingers and within a split second, Santana had arrived at
their location. "Take care of Mr. Evans here."
Santana took Sam by the arm, which he shrugged away. She grinned, leading him
to the office through the employees only door. "Come on, he'll be fine," she
said, annoyed. "For a hundred-seventeen you're such a baby sometimes."
Sebastian giggled to himself as he listened to Santana's insult. He stood up
and took Rory by the hand, leading him to the door of the basement. Rory tore
his hand away with a grunt. "Don't touch me."
"I'm not going to hurt you. Come on, follow me." Sebastian said. Rory followed
him down the stairs into a rather creepy looking room. It was large and
concrete all around. A large, iron carousel outfitted with shackles along the
rim occupied the center of the basement.
Rory looked around nervously, pausing in front of the stairs and even starting
to back up a little. "What is all this?"
"Oh, don't mind all that," Sebastian chuckled. "None of it's for you. It's just
nice and quiet down here, so you won't be interrupted. Now, our guests should
be here any moment."
The teen assumed Sebastian was referring to whomever it was he wanted Rory to
test out his ability on. He heard a steel door squeal as it opened and four
people came out, three of them in chains around the wrists and ankles.
"What is this!?" Rory shouted, suddenly outraged. "Ye' can't keep people locked
up in here like animals! Let them out, right now!" he demanded.
Sebastian placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Calm down. It's for their own
safety. See, they're a little... crazed. One of our regulars found them in the
woods, blubbering like idiots."
Rory took a closer look at the three captives, and then he suddenly recognized
them. "Oh me god! I know these boys!" he exclaimed. The sheriff raised an
eyebrow in curiosity. "They attacked me, and Sam saved me from them, but I
'aven't seen them since."
"Ah Samuel, ever the hero," Sebastian remarked sarcastically. "Whatever
happened to these idiots wasn't something done by a vampire. I have a feeling
they may have been hypnotized or something by whatever it is that killed that
high school student."
"So what d'ye' want with me?" Rory asked harshly.
"I want you to see if you can dig around in their heads, see what you can pull
out of there. Maybe a memory of what happened to them. A flash of who or what
did this to them. There's three of them so you have to be able to get something
out of one of them," Sebastian explained.
Rory glared at him. "So this is how ye' wanted to help me explore me power?
What's her purpose then?" he asked, nodding toward the woman who had come
through the door with them.
"This is Beiste. She's one of our bouncers, but also an excellent medic in
supernatural abnormalities and diseases. She's here to keep the kids under
control, make sure they stay calm and don't hurt anyone," Sebastian answered.
Rory nodded at Beiste, but she simply kept a neutral expression on her face.
"Okay so what d'we do now?" the teen asked. In response, Beiste picked up the
nearest of the three boys and carried him over to the carousel. She adjusted
his iron chains so he was then strapped to one of the girders, hands behind
him. He was struggling quite a bit, but the more he struggled, the more he
tired himself out.
"Just put your hands on him and see what you can yank out," Sebastian answered,
putting a suggestive spin on the word 'yank' and winking at the boy. "Go on,
see what you can do."
Rory sighed. The three boys were almost more intimidating now than they had
been the night that they had beaten him to death. They were just violent
assholes then, but now they were mentally deranged. He tried to maintain a
confident posture as he walked up to the first boy, Eric, looking him over.
The prisoner was pitiful. He had torn his clothes in numerous places, his shirt
mostly shredded fabric hanging off of his frame. He had scratch marks all over
his arms and legs and face where he had obviously been clawing at himself. He
continued his pathetic struggle against the beam, but he wasn't going anywhere.
Rory raised his hands and placed them on either side of the boy's head, then
tried to catch his eyes. Eye contact wasn't necessary but it helped. The fool
was struggling against the chains so badly, however, that they couldn't lock
eyes.
For Rory, it was like trying to dig through clay. Normally, he could see
surface memories easily, and ones that were older memories took a bit more
concentration and focus to pull out. He shook his head. "Nothing. Not even
recent."
"Keep trying," Sebastian urged. Rory nodded and refocused, closing his eyes and
picturing himself trying to literally dig through the clay of the boy's head.
All that was coming out was chips, however. Not even full flashes, but merely
quick strobes of colors, mostly blacks and grays. When Sebastian could tell
that Rory was about to give up, he urged him on again. "Don't stop, keep
going!"
Rory kept concentrating, picturing the clay tearing away bit by bit, but it was
tedious, and his head was starting to hurt. He could hear Sebastian in the
background, demanding him to keep going, not to stop. Rory's hands started to
feel hot, tingly. He could feel beads of sweat on his forehead, a sickly
feeling in his stomach, his headache turning more into a migraine. He squeezed
his eyes shut tighter and tighter, boring into the head of the insane teenager.
Eric was yelling obscenities and word salad, thrashing about the best he could
in his restraints.
There was a faint odor of something burning, and Rory's hands were so hot it
felt like he had them in an oven. Rory suddenly found himself screaming, a
strange sensation of flying or falling, a rush of air, and then his body
stopping, hitting something firm but soft.
Rory felt dizzy, his head spinning and his hands still tingling. "What
happened?" he asked, woozy. Before anyone else could answer, the door to the
hallway was wrenched right off of its hinges with a loud screech. Another rush
of air and Rory felt himself being pulled from one soft pad to another.
"Sam?" he asked, opening his eyes again and trying to regain his bearings.
"Sam, what happened?"
"That's what I want to know. Sebastian, what did you do to him?" Sam demanded.
"I didn't do anything. He did it all on his own," the sheriff answered.
Sam helped Rory to stand, the boy holding himself up against the wall. Another
rush of air and when he opened his eyes again, Sam had Sebastian by the throat,
up against another wall, his fangs extended and anger in his eyes.
"Don't fuck with me, Sebastian! What did you do to him!?" Sam hissed. Rory
blinked his eyes and suddenly it was Sam who was against the wall, Sebastian
grasping him by the neck.
"I told you, I did nothing to him. He was reading that human over there and his
hands started glowing and then he screamed and shot backwards like he was put
in a slingshot. If I hadn't have caught him, he would have been splattered on
the wall," Sebastian said coldly. He released his hand and let Sam drop to the
floor. Sam began to rise, his eyes still filled with rage.
"Oh, no, don't go down there, Sam," Santana said flatly, coming lazily down the
stairs. She looked toward her maker. "I tried to stop him, but he overpowered
me," she said sarcastically.
"Santana, now is not the time!" Sebastian shouted.
"Stop it!" Rory cried out, closing his eyes to stop the vertigo. "All of ye',
stop it. I'm fine. Sebastian caught me before I got hurt. It wasn't his fault,"
he said quietly.
Sam appeared before Rory, a blur that moved under Sebastian's arm and across
the floor. He was standing with the boy, keeping him steady, "If he didn't do
anything, then what happened?"
"I don't know, really," the boy replied. "I was trying to get inside his head,
and it was blocked so I kept digging and digging, and then me hands felt hot
and I felt sick and me head hurt worse than anything else in the world, and
then I was flying and falling."
"Come on, we're leaving. This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't gotten
involved with Sebastian," Sam said, cutting his eyes over at the sheriff.
Rory was hesitant, however. "Wait. I... I want t'try again," he said quietly.
"Try again? But look what happened, what if it happens again, or worse?" Sam
asked, worried. He put his arms around the boy protectively.
The teen gave a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Just let me try. I 'ave to know what
happened just now."
Sebastian smirked. "Looks like you have no choice but to let him," he taunted
Sam. "Let him work his magic and see for yourself."
Rory left Sam's arms and ambled over to Eric hanging on the girder, the boy
having calmed down immensely. He was awake, but he was no longer struggling. As
before, Rory lifted his hands and placed them on either side of Eric's head,
and began to concentrate.
Without the captive struggling, Rory was able to catch his gaze, but found
nothing there. His eyes were there, but nothing was behind them. He was blank.
So Rory closed his eyes, and started to concentrate harder, returning to the
image of a clay wall. The pieces he had chipped away were still gone, but he
had more to go. His mind dug in, clawing at the mineral, tiny bits of the boy's
mind finally chipping away to open up.
In reality, Rory had no idea what kind of effects this could be having on the
prisoner. The clay was merely a mental picture he himself created to visualize
what he was doing, but for all he knew, he was literally tearing away at Eric's
mind piece by piece.
His hands began to feel hot again, his fingertips tingling with heat. His head
began to hurt again, the pain more intense than before. Sweat beaded up on his
forehead and trickled down, tickling his neck. His entire body felt abuzz, a
steady hum in his ears, Sam's voice barely audible.
"-op!... -et go!... -ry!... -top! -top! Stop!" Sam's voice finally cut through
the din, breaking his concentration. He stumbled backward, but not like before.
He felt dizzy and off-kilter, his head still aching. He felt strong arms behind
him, holding him steady. "Okay, you're done. No more. We're leaving," Sam said
firmly.
"At least now you have seen for yourself that I did nothing to him. Whatever it
was, it came from him. Now you can stop with the false accusations and foolish
threats," Sebastian said triumphantly.
Sam looked back at his sheriff and glared coldly. "Goodbye, Sebastian. This is
over, got it?" The older vampire smirked as Sam helped his wobbly boyfriend up
the stairs and out of the door.
Santana sauntered up to her maker.. "What happened? I could hear weird noises
all the way up there, and then Sam freaked out and came down here," Santana
asked, hiding her genuine concern. She poked at the prisoner as she walked by,
scoffing at the smell of body odor.
"I'm not sure, but you should have seen it the first time. His hands were
glowing bright yellow and whatever he was doing sent him flying backward. It
was much more intense than what we just witnessed a moment ago. There is
definitely way more to that boy than I thought at first. The mind reading was
one thing, but this glowing effect is definitely something new."
Santana was still poking at the boy on the girder, noticing a strange texture
to his body. It felt smooth but firm. She then took a glance at his head and
gasped lightly. "Look at this! It's like his head was singed!"
Sebastian shoved her aside and peered at the boy's head. Sure enough, on each
side of his head where Rory had been touching him, his face looked burnt. He
poked at it with his fingertip to find it sunk in slightly, as if the flesh
were made of some sort of clay. His finger left an indent where he touched the
skin.
"Well look at that. He was melting the bastard. Just like a wax dummy,"
Sebastian said, fascinated. He pressed in on the temple a bit more, and when he
pulled his finger away this time, it tore off some of the skin as well,
eliciting a loud moan from the victim.
"Gross," the sheriff commented, flinging the flesh from his finger. "I wonder
what would have happened if he held on longer. Seems like he can't, though. He
tried twice and neither time did he finish whatever he was actually trying to
do."
"I'm guessing it's going to be much harder to get him to come back here now
that Sam has taken him away," the woman remarked.
"I will get him back when I need him." Sebastian smirked and turned around,
looking over at the other prisoners. They had settled down, but if they didn't
get treatment for whatever seemed to have afflicted them, they would most
likely remain insane forever.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 5: Ability *****
Chapter Notes
     Memorial to Cory Monteith: It is with great sadness that I have to
     hear this morning that Cory Monteith has passed away. It was quite a
     shock, and I hope that whatever the reason for his passing, people
     remember him for the good things he did. As Finn Hudson, he inspired
     a lot of young people to be themselves, to sing, to follow their
     dreams. He brought something special to a lot of people just by being
     a character on a show, and that in itself is an accomplishment. I
     know next to nothing about him outside of Glee, but everyone says he
     was a great person, wonderful to work with, and inspirational. Love
     goes out to his family, his friends, and everyone that he has touched
     in some way through his acting or personally. Glee will definitely
     not be the same without him, and every time we don't see his
     character or name onscreen, we will be reminded of this tragic
     moment, but never forget his memory and remember him for his greatest
     moments but on and offscreen. Rest in peace, Cory Monteith, for you
     will be missed by family, friends, and fans alike.

     Author's Notes: By this point in the story I am sure most of you have
     figured out which Glee characters parallel True Blood characters. I'm
     also pretty sure you guys know why I chose who I did for each role.
     Just for fun, when you post your next review (and I hope you are
     reviewing, it caters to my badly damaged ego hehe) give me your
     thoughts on who you think is taking who's role and why I might have
     chosen them. I always value what my readers are thinking!

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 5: Ability
Sam had taken Rory home just before dawn approached. The teen was sound asleep;
he never even stirred as Sam gently placed him in the truck, and then carried
him upstairs to his room. He tucked him in, removing his shoes and socks, and
then his jeans. Before, he had been wary of removing Rory's clothing out of
respect, but at this point they trusted each other, and Sam knew Rory wouldn't
feel violated. Sam stood over his slumbering boyfriend, smiling slightly as he
watched his chest rise and fall in peaceful sleep. A single red tear streaked
the vampire's cheek as he thought once more about the fact that he would never
be able to sleep and wake with the boy the same way a normal human couple
would.
Before sadness could ruin his happy moment, Sam ran from the house, back to the
vehicle. He needed to get home so that he could rest by the time dawn set.
-ooo-
"My God, Rory! You look terrible!" Mercedes exclaimed upon seeing her friend
entering the Lima Bean to start his shift. While he had slept incredibly well
overnight, he woke up still feeling physically exhausted. He attributed it to
the strange happenings of the night before, assuming whatever had occurred took
a lot of energy out of him. As far as he was concerned, he'd be fine once he
got going through the day.
"Holy crap, you're pale as hell," Kurt added, rushing up to the boy and putting
the back of his hand on Rory's forehead. Rory shook him off and shuffled toward
the employee lounge to clock in.
Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other, worried. "He looks bad. Pale, and
sickly. You don't think…?" the woman began, giving Kurt a pleading stare that
begged him to have some explanation for the boy's condition.
"His forehead didn't feel hot, like a fever or anything. Did you see how he was
moving though? Slow and-" Kurt began, but was interrupted by Mike.
The manager appeared behind them, a grim look on his face. "Weak," he finished
for Kurt. "He looks weak. Like someone who either hasn't had enough sleep in a
long time, or someone anemic." His two employees looked confused. "Anemic, thin
blood, easier blood loss. Blood being the key word here."
"You think that fanger fed on him?" Mercedes asked, her eyes watering at the
thought.
"I don't know. I asked Tina to check on him. He seems to open up to her the
most when it comes to this sort of thing," Mike replied. In truth, he knew that
Tina was the only one who had the compassion and personality to drag the truth
out of the kid without causing a war. Kurt was far too blunt, and Mercedes was
too dramatic. Either of them would cause him to shut down. Yes, Tina was the
perfect choice here.
"You two get back to work for now. I'll let you know if Tina finds out
anything. I have to work on payroll," the manager said, walking toward his
office, leaving Mercedes and Kurt at the bar. The two said nothing else, but
went about their menial tasks in silence, trading the occasional look of worry
since they hadn't seen Rory appear yet.
-ooo-
Rory had clocked in for his shift, but started to feel lightheaded. He braced
himself against the wall, closing his eyes to see if the feeling would go away.
"Rory? Are you okay?" came the soft voice of Tina Cohen-Chang. He hadn't heard
the door open or close, but the slight ringing in his ears most likely took
care of that. "Come on, let's sit down; you look like you might faint." She
took him by the arm and helped him to sit in a chair, pulling one up for
herself once he was comfortable.
"I'll be okay," the teen assured her, but she wasn't buying it.
"Rory, you look awful. You're pale; you look like you might pass out any
second. If you could see yourself, you'd see what I mean," she explained. "I'll
be right back, I'm going to get you a drink. Maybe some orange juice. That's
good for replenishing a blood count."
The way Tina justified the selection of orange juice instantly alerted Rory to
the fact that she was assuming he must have been bitten and drained by a
vampire. She didn't seem angry or scared however, merely concerned.
"Here, drink some of this," she said, returning moments later with a large
glass of ice-cold orange juice. "This should perk you up a little bit." He
thanked her as he took the glass from her, sipping carefully as if he were
afraid he might drop it.
"Sam didn't… he didn't drink me blood," Rory finally said, sighing deeply. "I
know ye' all think he did, but he didn't."
Tina felt slightly guilty that she had made the assumption, but something had
told her that she had been wrong from the moment the thought had entered her
mind. "How come you look so pale and weak?" she asked, taking care not to make
the words come across as sarcastic or challenging.
"I can't say. Maybe just too much goin' on last night," he replied, realizing
how his words sounded, what they almost insinuated.
"Can I ask you something personal?" the woman inquired. Rory shrugged. "This
isn't some sort of effect from intimacy, is it? I don't know anything about
vampire… relations… but could that have anything to do with how you feel?"
The teen couldn't help but laugh. "No, we 'aven't done anything like that. We
just visited the vampire bar, and I guess we just stayed out too late," he
said.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I'm just concerned is all," Tina said. "I don't
know anything about vampires, really. I know Sam is a nice person though, and I
think it's a good chance for me to learn a little something about them. I can't
imagine someone as kind as him being like the vampires we see on the news or in
movies."
Rory smiled at her, the juice starting to perk him up just as she had promised.
"Thank ye', Tina. It means a lot t'me that ye' aren't acting the way e'eryone
else is. Sam really is a wonderful person. I wish the others would give him a
chance. Would be open to knowin' him." He started to sniffle, closing his eyes
tight to fight back the tears.
Tina leaned forward and hugged him. "They'll come around eventually. Give them
time." She sat with him for several minutes, exchanging idle small talk while
he drank his juice.
Before she left the lounge, Tina paused at the door. "Rory, you know you can
talk to me about anything. Anything at all. I'll keep it between you and me, I
promise," she said with a genuine smile.
"Thank ye'," the teen replied, smiling back. He contemplated just spilling it
all out on the table for her right then, but it was just too much. Too much to
expect anyone to understand all at once. It was already too much when he
expected them to understand his special ability, but asking them to
understand this new ability, was just too much. He decided he would wait until
he knew more about it himself before broaching the subject with anyone else.
Not even five minutes after Tina had left, Mike entered the room, sitting down
across from the younger teen. "Feeling okay?" he asked in a concerned, yet
authoritative tone.
"I'll be fine. I just had a bad night's sleep. I'll be right along in a
moment," Rory replied unconvincingly.
Mike's stare bore down on him. "If I see you aren't feeling well again the rest
of your shift, I'm sending you home. No arguments." He leaned forward and
placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm
just looking out for you, and if you start getting sickly like this, you need
to rest and get better. At home."
Rory nodded his head hesitantly. "I un'erstand." He watched as Mike stood up
and left, leaving Rory to mentally prepare himself. He already expected that
Mercedes and Kurt would be on his case, and he really had no desire to deal
with them. He could have taken Mike up on his offer to go home, but that wasn't
the answer.
-ooo-
Rory worked his shift as normal, but he was very quiet. He spent more time than
usual cleaning the tables, taking orders, and making idle chit-chat with his
customers. Any excuse to keep away from his friends. He could feel their eyes
on him constantly, as if they were waiting for him to slip up or something,
anything to give them an excuse to start asking questions. He even took extra
care not to make any clumsy mistakes or knock things over so as not to draw
extra attention to himself.
His luck ran out, however, when it was around eight and the customers were
practically non-existent. The tables were all clean and there was no one
around. The only ones there were Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina, the latter about to
leave for the night.
"When are you going to stop avoiding us and tell us what's going on?" Mercedes
asked pointedly the moment he came behind the bar to fix himself yet another
orange juice.
"Nothing's goin' on. I'm just tired," he said. It wasn't entirely a
lie—he was tired—but he was definitely leaving out a lot of details.
"I don't believe you," Kurt declared, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, a
fresh cappuccino in hand. "You're either sick, which I highly doubt, or that
vampire has done something to you. Now are you going to fess up, or do we have
to drag it out of you?"
Rory sighed, purposely taking longer than necessary to fill his glass with ice
and juice. "Sam hasn't done anything to me. I promise. He would ne'er hurt me.
I wish ye' could trust me on that," he said sadly. "I just need some rest.
These late nights with him are wearing me out. That's all it is."
"Then maybe you need friends who can actually walk in the daylight," Kurt said
sarcastically, sipping his coffee. Rory looked up at him, narrowing his eyes.
"What did ye' say t'me?" the teen challenged.
"I said," Kurt repeated, "That you need friends who can walk in the daylight.
Humans. People who don't keep you up all night going to dangerous bars and
drinking the life out of people all the while draining you of any energy you
have just by lack of sleep."
Rory stood up, setting his glass on the counter, a newfound strength in his
body. "How dare ye' say those things, Kurt! I thought ye' were me friend!"
"I am your friend, why else do you think I care that he's doing this to you?
It's unhealthy," Kurt replied firmly. He put his free hand on Rory's shoulder
in an act of consolation, but all it did was anger the boy.
"Don't touch me!" Rory shouted, pushing back against Kurt's chest with the only
intention being to get him to back away. Instead, when his hands made contact
with Kurt's body, a dull flash of light emitted from the boy's hands, slamming
into Kurt's chest and knocking him back off of his feet, his coffee spilling
everywhere.
"What the hell did you just do to him?" Mercedes cried out, rushing to Kurt's
aid. "You… you hit him with… something! But you hit him!"
Rory backed away, his hands in front of him. "No, I didn't mean t'do anything!
I just wanted him to back away, I didn't want t'hurt him!" A look of horror
crossed his face, but then it turned into one of sheer exhaustion. His eyes
fluttered and he collapsed on the floor, taking the bartender's stool with him.
"What the hell is going on?" Mercedes yelled in frustration. Kurt was
recovering from his fall, his only injury being a slight pain in his chest
where whatever had hit him connected, and a slight ache in his rear where he
had fallen. The coffee had spilled wildly, but luckily just stained his pants,
however his shirt now had a pair of darkened handprints on it, as if an iron
had been left on it just a little too long.
"Should we call an ambulance for Rory?" Kurt asked, shaking his head to
readjust himself.
"I… I don't know," the stout woman replied. "Whatever he did, it wasn't normal.
Would a doctor even know what to do? He didn't pass out until he did that. They
wouldn't have the slightest idea what was going on."
The two older teens had crouched down near their friend, looking for signs of
injury.
"Where is he!?" they heard a voice bellow, alarmed. It was the vampire. Sam.
"He's back here," Mercedes answered fretfully. "He passed out."
"He didn't just pass out. He… he did something to me and then he passed out,"
Kurt corrected her. Despite his concern for his friend, he was still irritated
that he had been attacked, even by accident.
Sam went behind the bar, crouching down and listening to the boy's heartbeat.
"His heart sounds fine. He's breathing. I think he'll be okay," he said with
relief. "He just needs some rest. A good night's sleep."
"Yeah, no kidding. You've been keeping him out all night long so he isn't
sleeping, then coming in to work and now he's passing out from exhaustion. It's
all your fault, you know!" Kurt said hatefully. "Maybe if you let him actually
sleep at night like he's supposed to, he'd be okay."
Sam glared at the man, forcing himself to maintain control of his emotions.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, young man. There's more going on
with this boy than you can fathom. The last thing he needs is his friends with
their judgmental attitudes being unsupportive of his choices." He would have
laughed at himself for sounding so much like his father, but he was gravely
serious.
Kurt had no words that would come to mind. How could he argue? He was being
judgmental, as was Mercedes. They really didn't know exactly what was going on
except for the fact that their friend was dating a vampire and staying out late
at night. For all they knew, Rory and Sam just spent time watching movies and
talking.
"Look, arguing isn't going to help Rory," Mercedes interjected. "Sam, I don't
like you. I don't trust you. But Rory does. I don't agree with it, but I guess
I just have to accept it." Her pointed comments hit Sam like a truck, but he
had to admire her honesty. "If you know what's going on, if you know what could
help him, then do it. Give him a reason to trust you. Give us a reason to trust
you."
"Are you crazy? What if—" Kurt began, but the woman put her hand over his
mouth, silencing him.
"Sam, just take him home. Let him rest for once. Think about what this
relationship could be doing to him. Is it worth his health? Weigh it," Mercedes
said sternly. Her eyes bore into him fearlessly as if she knew he would not
glamour her into submission of some sort.
Sam didn't reply, but carefully picked his boyfriend up in his arms, then in a
blur, they were gone from the building.
Kurt glared at his friend. "Have you lost your mind, girl?"
A tear fell down the young woman's face. "Maybe. But something's going on that
we don't know about. That vampire knows, and… And I believe Rory when he says
Sam isn't hurting him. I don't know why, but I do. I didn't before, but I've
changed my mind, Kurt. If Rory can trust him, maybe we can at least trust
Rory."
Kurt held his head in his hands, sighing. "Whatever. This is getting out of
hand. Maybe… maybe I'll ask Blaine about it. Maybe this is some sort of magic.
Maybe he even knows a way to keep that vampire staring spell from being used on
us. Or a spell to just make him go away."
"Don't you think he might be a little freaked out there? After all, he's a
Wiccan, and they aren't exactly known for liking the supernatural creatures of
the night," she argued. "Then again, Blaine has always been more open-minded
than most. It's hard to say I guess. Just talk to him about it, see what he can
figure out."
"At least he might be able to give us answers even if he can't
actually do anything to help" the man said, leaning up against the bar. "You
surprise me though. I swear, earlier you were gung-ho about being anti-vampire,
and now you're all about the fanged-coalition. Sounds like he already put that
spell on you or something."
Mercedes shook her head. "No. I'm far from pro-vampire. I just am trying to
open my mind a little, for Rory's sake. What that vamp said makes sense. We
should be supportive of Rory, even if we don't agree with him. Being vocal and
judgmental is just going to upset him. He needs his friends. If we piss him
off, he'll shut us out, and then there's no way we can help him. Keep your
enemies closer, the saying goes."
Kurt huffed. He knew she was right, and the only reason he could even tolerate
agreeing with her was because he ignored the fact that it was Sam who had
pointed it out. The events of the evening however were all the fuel he needed
to ask his own boyfriend about what he knew of vampires. Maybe he would even
have an answer for what happened.
Kurt touched his chest, still feeling a tingling sensation. His fingertips came
away very warm, even though the rest of his body was relatively cold from the
cranked up A/C. He began to wonder if whatever it was Rory had done, was some
sort of heat projection. He made a mental note to address that with Blaine as
well. There had to be explanations for these things, and Kurt was determined to
find answers. Luckily for Rory, Kurt was far too worried about him to fuss over
his ruined shirt and stained pants.
-ooo-
Rory's eyes fluttered open, but he was far from awake. He was still drowsy, his
head hurt, and he felt weak. He took comfort in the fact that he recognized the
flawless mattress he was lying on as being from Sam's bedroom. He was covered
by a thick blanket, his head on the fluffiest pillow he had ever slept on.
Despite the fact he had slept here a few times already, for some reason it all
felt new again.
He sat up, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He reached to his right and
clicked on the bedside lamp, giving the room a soft glow. He checked the time
on his phone, which was sitting on the nightstand. It was still early by Sam's
internal clock, but late for his own: Eleven-thirty.
"Sam?" he called out softly. It wasn't like he needed to be quiet, he wasn't
afraid of waking his boyfriend; he just for some reason didn't have the energy
to be but so loud. He kicked off the covers and sat on the bedside. He had no
socks or pants on, just his boxers and t-shirt. He couldn't help but wonder if
Sam had sneaked a peek at anything while he was undressing him. The thought
made him chuckle. He never thought anyone would even be interested in him at
all, let alone be interested in 'peeking' at anything.
He stood up, his head a little woozy. He slowly and carefully padded across the
floor into the hallway and down the stairs, holding on to the handrail to
steady himself. He felt so weak, but he didn't understand why at all. He had
just slept for a few hours. He should be okay, so why wasn't he back to normal
yet?
He peered into the living room, but saw no sign of the vampire, so he decided
to try the study. Sure enough, Sam was sitting behind his desk, a pair of
glasses on his face, reading something. As soon as he noticed the boy entering
the room, he shuffled something on top of whatever he was reading.
"Feeling any better?" Sam asked, looking over the teen. "You still look tired."
"I am. Real tired. I don't know why," Rory answered. He padded into the study
and leaned against the desk, smiling at Sam innocently. "What are ye' reading?
Dirty magazines?" he teased, slipping his fingers under the Rolling
Stone magazine in an effort to seize whatever Sam was hiding.
"No, I don't read those things. They're dull and unoriginal," the vampire
replied matter-of-factly. He let the teen slide the hidden periodical from
under his magazine, thanking his cool skin for hiding the blush he knew he
should be showing.
"The Uncanny X-men?" Rory asked as he examined the comic book. "A hundred-
seventy years old and ye' still reading comic books," he chuckled.
Sam smiled sheepishly. "Yes. I've been reading them since issue one. It's
amazing how the artwork has evolved over the decades. See, we didn't really
have these when I was alive. We barely had books at all, and I couldn't read
anyway even if we did."
"Don't say that," Rory said. "When ye' were alive. Ye' still are. At least
t'me. Ye' just went through a traumatic transformation. Kind o' like the
characters in ye'r comic book," he added, handing the book back to Sam. "I'm
not that familiar with X-men, but I saw the movies. A bunch o' people who got
special abilities when they got t'be teenagers. People hated and feared them.
They just wanted acceptance. Sounds like ye'r no different really."
Sam choked back a sob. "That's the most profound thing I have ever heard in my
life. You're so amazing." He stood up and rounded the desk, hugging his
boyfriend. Rory hugged him back weakly, almost collapsing in his embrace.
"Sorry. I guess I'm still a wee bit weaker than I thought," the teen
apologized.
Sam held Rory steady, helping him up the stairs and back to the bedroom. He
could easily have just picked him up and zoomed up there, but somehow he got
the notion that perhaps what Rory needed was a little feeling of normalcy, not
more supernatural experiences.
"Sam, d'ye' 'ave any idea what's happening to me?" Rory asked as he sat back
down on the bedside.
The vampire shook his head, taking a seat next to him and holding his hand.
"No. Whatever it is, it's because of what happened when you tried to read that
guy's mind. That… energy that came out of your hands. It was strong enough to
throw you backwards at least ten feet."
"I've ne'er experienced that before. Ne'er in me life. Then when I got mad at
Kurt, I went to push him back, and that energy came out again. This time it
pushed him back, instead o' me."
Sam scratched his chin thoughtfully. "The only thing I can think of so far that
makes sense is whatever that energy was, it came from you. Like it came out of
you. Kind of like blood."
Rory cocked his head sideways in confusion. "What do ye' mean?"
"I mean if I were to drink your blood, for example, it would take you a couple
days for your body to replenish it, to make new blood to replace
it. Maybe that's what's happening here. That energy you put out was taken away,
so now you need time to replenish it. So maybe you feel weak and tired until
your body recovers. It still doesn't explain what happened or why it happened,
but if you ask me, it's at least a theory to start with," Sam said.
"What if it's… something else? What if it's something dangerous? That can kill
me…" Rory asked sadly. "Sam, I don't want t'die. Not yet."
Sam lifted the teen's chin with his fingertip and gazed into his ocean-blue
eyes. "You are not going to die. Not on my watch. I'll give you every ounce of
my blood if that's what it takes to keep you alive," he vowed.
Rory sat there quietly, his eyes locked on Sam's, unable to look away. Finally,
he spoke. "That's an awfully dedicated thing t'say. Ye'r way o'er a hundred
years old. Why give ye'r life up for a teenager?"
"Don't worry about 'why'. Just know that you're safe," Sam said. He leaned in
slowly, letting his thick lips touch Rory's, concentrating to keep his fangs
from extending. He slid his tongue into the boy's mouth, allowing him to
explore back.
Despite Rory's lack of energy, he found a sudden burst of it as they kissed
intensely and passionately, finally collapsing onto the bed. Sam straddled him
and hovered over him, continuing to kiss him. It was all he could do to contain
his hormones. He wanted to simply ravage the teen, both of them reveling in
each other's sexual desires and fantasies, but he knew—no, he wanted-to wait.
Rory had to be ready, and right now, he wasn't. The teen hadn't said it aloud,
but Sam could sense it in his heartbeat.
"Okay, you're getting me all riled up, time to cool off," Sam said teasingly.
"Why don't we watch some TV until you're ready to fall asleep again?" He sat
back up and scooted up against the headboard, reaching for the remote on the
bedside table. Rory sat up as well, letting Sam cradle him in his arms as he
flipped through channels. Suddenly, something caught their attention and Sam
stopped clicking.
A picture of a young man came across the screen. He was a light-skinned black
teenager with buzzed hair and he was wearing a William McKinley High School
letterman jacket. His name flashed across the screen: Matthew Rutherford.
"This teen was found dead last night, his body in the same grisly condition as
Joseph Hart, another student who was killed just last week," the anchorwoman
stated on the TV. "No evidence of the murderer was left behind, but so far
investigators are once again ruling out vampire activity since the victim was
not exsanguinated and a massive amount of blood was left at the scene. We now
have a statement from Holly Holliday of the American Vampire League. Miss
Holliday, if you will," she finished.
They didn't pay attention to what Holly Holliday had to say. Instead Rory
turned his head and stared at Sam, both of them understanding what the other
was thinking.
"First Joe Hart, then those three bullies being driven insane, and now this
guy. Do you know him?" Sam asked.
Rory shook his head. "No. I mean, I saw him in the hall, and I know he was a
football player, but that's it. I didn't e'en know his first name until now.
This is getting really scary, Sam."
The vampire nodded. "I agree. One death was bad enough, but a second? And those
boys… The fact that none of their blood was drained is odd too. If it were
vampires, they would be drained completely. That means it's something other
than a vampire. Something much more dangerous I imagine." He tightened his
embrace around the teen, unsure if it was more to comfort himself, or Rory.
"Sam, ye'r immortal. Why would ye' be scared o' anything?" the teen asked,
confused. "Unless they impale ye' with wood, or cut off ye'r head, ye'r pretty
well indestructible, right?"
Sam chuckled. "Hardly! Vampires are much more vulnerable than you think. We can
withstand a heck of a lot, but we can still be hurt and killed by more than
stakes and decapitation and sunlight. You shouldn't worry about it though. Many
vampires live for centuries. Sebastian's over fifteen-hundred himself. Santana
is around my age. One-eighty."
"What's the oldest vampire ye' ever heard of?"
"Hmm," Sam thought a moment. "Probably three-thousand. A guy named Finnigan
Hudsonoff. He's a little crazy, but who wouldn't be after three-thousand years?
He's actually the king of Ohio."
"King? There's a king? Like King Arthur?"
"Yes, sort of. The king is like the president of the state. He governs over the
sheriffs of the state. The Authority governs the entire vampire world. They're
a collective of chancellors from every continent," Sam explained. "The
Authority are the ones who decided to come forward about the existence of our
kind, and the concept of mainstreaming: living in harmony with humans."
Rory's eyes went wide. "Wow. Is there a queen, too? Princes and princesses and
stuff?"
Sam laughed. "State leaders are called kings and queens, and that just depends
on if it's a man or woman in charge. The queen of Tennessee for example is
Quintessa Fabrarra. She's one-eighty, like Santana, which is very young for a
queen. And no, there aren't princes and princesses. The closest thing to that
would be the sheriffs."
"Wow. I ne'er knew all this was happening right under our noses," the teen
admitted.
"A lot of people don't. That's part of the idea though, of mainstreaming. The
Authority keeps the vampire population in check, while the human governments
make the rules for all citizens, human and vampire alike. They work very
closely together with the national governments to keep things going."
As fascinated as Rory was, he was starting to get sleepy again. Sam could sense
it in his slowed breathing and heartbeat. "Time for you to get some more sleep
I think. Your vampire government lesson is over for now."
Sam crawled out of the bed and helped Rory get comfortable again. Sam kissed
him on the forehead, giggling slightly at the childish gesture. He turned out
the light and the TV and sat on the edge of the bed, watching silently as his
boyfriend fell asleep.
As the century-and-a-half-old teenager watched the slumbering boy, he couldn't
help but let his mind wander. I think I love him. I never had these feelings
before. Even about... Marley. Our love was deep friendship. What we had was
different than mates, but this… This is different from that. There's something
about him. I can only explain it as love. I wonder if he feels the same
intensity I do. I'm kind of scared to ask. What if he says no? I might just be
the first vampire to fall apart of heartbreak.
-ooo-
Rory woke up mid-morning, still feeling tired, but not to the extent he had
before. He called Mike and told him he'd be in, but needed a ride to work. Mike
volunteered Tina to pick him up after getting the address. Rory could sense in
the manager's voice that he wasn't thrilled about him having stayed all night
over at Sam's, nor did he seem incredibly happy with the idea of Tina going
over there, but she insisted she could take care of herself.
Ride arrangements made, Rory decided he needed a shower. He entered the
bathroom, finding a note taped to the bathroom mirror.
Good morning handsome,
I'm sorry I can't be there to see you off to work, but the dawn isn't all that
friendly to me. I've gone to ground until dusk. I took the liberty of sending a
text message with your phone to your caretakers alerting them that you were
sleeping over at a friend's for the night so they wouldn't fret when you
weren't home for curfew. I also made the trek to Wal-Mart while you were asleep
and retrieved you some clean clothing for the day. You'll find it sitting in
the chair in the bedroom. I hope it's an appropriate outfit, if not, I
apologize. Feel free to make yourself at home, but unfortunately I have not had
the sense to stock any human food for you yet. I will amend that later. If you
need a ride, I left the number of a cab company sitting on the dresser and I
can repay you for the fare. I hope I covered everything. When I wake I will
come find you at work to give you a proper greeting.
Yours, Sam
Rory chuckled at the sweet note, the handwriting not the best in the world, but
he had seen much worse. He had always pictured vampires in the style of Anne
Rice: elegant, writing on parchment with quills in fancy script. Instead here
was Sam's note on plain paper, written in pencil with sloppy handwriting.
He left the bathroom to retrieve the clothes Sam had chosen for him. Sam had
picked khaki-colored slacks and a pale orange button-down shirt. Rory wouldn't
have selected it for himself, but the sentiment was incredibly thoughtful. He
usually wore polo shirts to work, but this would have to do.
It felt odd to be in the house without Sam around. Well, he was there, just
sleeping wherever it was he 'went to ground', whatever that meant. Rory
couldn't picture him literally sleeping on the ground, or buried in the sand,
but he couldn't picture Sam in a coffin, either. He finally decided that Sam
probably had a normal bedroom in the basement or some other light-tight area.
After his shower, he milled about the house, taking a closer look at the books
on shelves in the study, finding Sam's massive comic book collection in a large
highboy. It was endearing to him that a hundred-seventy year old vampire was
reading comic books, but that age was pretty young by vampire standards, and
perhaps Sam had never really grown up the way a normal human did over the
decades.
Finally, Tina arrived to pick him up for work. He met her at the door, but she
was far too intrigued to just take off. She asked if she could see the inside,
to which Rory decided it would be alright since Tina was genuinely curious and
not out to make fun of his boyfriend's home.
"Wow, it is so nice in here," she said softly. "I expected spider webs and dust
everywhere, but it's really clean and well taken care of." She ran her hands
along the wooden handrail of the stairs as she passed by them, walking into the
study. "Oh my god, that desk is gorgeous! And those pieces in the glass cases!
Wonderful!" The young woman was clearly amazed by what she saw, her original
expectations totally blown out of the water.
"Can I see the upstairs too? Or do you think that's too private?" she asked,
her eyes pleading to visit.
"I don't see why not. The bed is huge, and very comfortable. He e'en has a TV
in the bedroom. The bathroom is really modern looking, too," Rory replied,
leading her up the stairs.
He showed her the bedroom and the bathroom, but nothing more. He wasn't sure
what was in the other rooms and didn't want to pry without permission. Tina
took a moment to lie back on the bed, the mattress so soft she insisted she may
very well fall asleep if she didn't get up right away.
"This is all so overwhelming!" she exclaimed. "Where does he sleep? Does he
have a bedroom too?"
Rory shrugged. "I don't know. He ne'er said where he sleeps. Maybe he has a
bedroom in the basement, but I don't want t'go snooping around. It might be bad
to wake him up during daytime. It might, ye' know, hurt him or something."
Tina nodded in understanding. "Makes sense." She checked her watch. "We better
get going so we aren't late. If I don't see Sam later, be sure and tell him I
love his house. It's breathtaking!"
"I will. Ye' should see him though; he's coming to see me when he wakes up
later. I bet he'd enjoy 'aving ye' over proper sometime and then he could show
ye' his antiques and stuff," the younger teen explained. He made a quick round
of the bedroom and bathroom to make sure he didn't leave anything a mess,
turned out the lights, and followed Tina out the door.
"I would love t'stay here fore'er ye' know," Rory said, taking a moment to look
back at the house before getting into the car. "It's like living in a dream.
The perfect boyfriend, the perfect house. I'd stay here if he asked me to."
"Do you think he will? I mean, he trusts you enough to let you stay overnight,
and he likes you a lot. In fact, I have a feeling he more than likes you," Tina
suggested as they backed out of the driveway.
Rory blushed. "Ye' think he really does? More than likes me? How would I know
if he did?"
Tina laughed. "The way he looks at you, the way he's so protective. It's
obvious he more than likes you. Only you can know for sure though. You'll know;
you'll sense it. You don't need the power to read memories to know when someone
loves you."
The Irishman blushed even darker. "Love. Ye' think he loves me?"
Tina nodded. "Maybe. That's for you two to figure out though. Do you think
maybe you feel something more than just liking him?" She already knew the
answer, but she wanted him to admit it to himself.
"Yes. Yes, I like him way more than just liking. It's stronger and more
intense. I think it might be love."
"Then it probably is," she said cheerfully. "Don't say the words until you feel
ready though. Once you declare love for someone, it can change things, usually
for the better. At least in a dating situation."
"Ye' think if I told him I loved him, he might get upset?"
Tina laughed again. "I think he might say it back to you, if you wanna know the
truth. You'll have to find that out for yourself though."
The rest of the ride they made in companionable silence, Rory smiling happily
as he mulled over the things Tina had said to him. It meant a lot that she was
not only supportive, but encouraging of the relationship. She was genuine and
caring, two of Tina's best qualities. He could understand why Mike cared for
her so much, why Mike loved her.
Rory made the decision that he would tell Sam his feelings, but only when he
sensed the time was right. The only problem was, what made it 'the right time'?
-ooo-
The Lima Bean was surprisingly busy, even for a Friday summer's night. The
tables were constantly full, Tina and Rory keeping on their toes making sure
everyone was served and satisfied. Mike even came out of his office to help
them out a few times, making a mental note that he needed to ask his father
about hiring at least one more server.
It was around seven when Rory saw a new face come into the restaurant. The only
reason he noticed was because her face seemed to have a faint aura about it,
the way someone's face would glow if they had on too much makeup, except she
wore very little. She strolled up to the bar, smiling, her pearly-white teeth
glinting in the light.
The mysterious woman didn't even wait for Mercedes to ask for her order. "Hi,
I'm Rachel Berry," she said, holding her hand out.
"Yeah nice to meet you. What can I get for you?" Mercedes asked hurriedly. She
never did very well when it was busy, getting flustered easily.
"Well actually I just need to speak to a manager. See, I'm a singer and I'm
looking to do a performance at local businesses to get my name out there. Is
there anyone I can talk to?" Rachel Berry asked sweetly, her grin never fading.
"Uh, yeah, hold on," the heavier woman said. She picked up the phone at the end
of the bar and pushed a speed dial button. "Hey, Mike, someone needs to see
you. Says she's a performer. Uh huh. Okay. Will do." She hung up the phone and
reported back to her customer.
"He'll be right out. You want a drink while you wait?"
Rachel Berry smiled and politely refused. She only waited a minute before Mike
came out to greet her.
"Mike Chang, manager of the Lima Bean. How can I help you?" he asked formally.
"Well Mr. Chang, my name is Rachel Berry, and I would love to talk to you about
your performances held here and if I could possibly be a part of that," Rachel
replied.
Mike shrugged. "Actually, we don't have any kind of performances going on. No
live bands or singers or anything, so there's nothing for you to join," he
replied.
Rachel's smile didn't falter one bit. "Well then it sounds like a perfect time
to consider adding that. Can you imagine the increase in customers coming in if
you had live entertainment! Even better is that this is supposed to be a
teenaged hangout, right? Well every town can use a place for teens to be
entertained in a safe, wholesome environment. The Lima Bean could be the
perfect place for it!"
Mike thought a moment. This woman, whom he had never seen before in his life,
made a very good point. They weren't hurting for customers per se, but the more
they had, the more money they could make. His father had mentioned wanting to
possibly expand someday, and in the immediate future they needed at least one
more server. It was an idea worth thinking about.
"Alright, Miss Berry. Let's go to my office. I'll need to get the owner in here
to make the decisions, but lets work on a proposal. I like the idea of live
entertainment."
Rachel seemed very pleased with his response. She kept the sickly-sweet smile
plastered on her face as she followed him into the office.
Rory paused a moment, watching the woman as she stayed on Mike's heels. He
almost tripped over his own two feet when he went to move again.
"Watching girls now?" Mercedes teased as she walked by.
"What?"
"You almost tripped over yourself watching that chick," the woman replied
smugly.
Rory scrunched his eyebrows. "I wasn't looking at her arse. I was just watching
her. There's something about her that seems…off." Before he could elaborate,
Kurt came through with an order that was ready, setting it on the counter for
Rory to pick up.
"Serve now, talk later," Kurt barked rudely. He wasn't much better than
Mercedes when things got busier than usual. Rory ignored him and took his tray.
He liked Kurt but the boy had been a little cold to him all during his shift,
most likely bitter about their little incident the night before.
During Mike and Rachel's conference, Tina made a trip back to the office at
least three times, begging Mike to come out front to help them, but he
declined. He was fully engrossed in this proposed project. Tina had no
suspicions that he was cheating on her; she was just bothered by the sudden
interest and by the strange look in his eyes. His eyes seemed to have a very
faint glow, the same kind of glow that Rachel had.
-ooo-
Sam arrived at the Lima Bean just before close. He was pleased to see that Rory
was wearing the clothing he had picked out for him. He stepped inside for just
a moment to let him know that he would be waiting for him outside.
Ten minutes later, the Irish teen emerged from the building, a large smile
across his face. He immediately walked up to Sam and planted a kiss on his
mouth, throwing his arms around him in a tight embrace.
"Happy to see me apparently," Sam teased when Rory finally released him. "Did
you have a good day at work?"
"It was busy! We had a full house all night, but I made a lot o' money in tips
tonight," the teen answered. "I should probably give ye' a little bit o' cash
for all the gas ye've been spending toting me around." He started to reach for
his back pocket, but Sam gently grabbed his arm to stop him.
"No. Save your money to spend on things for yourself. You deserve nice things;
you can't buy them if you're giving me gas money," Sam said with a half smile.
"The gesture is sweet and quite gentlemanly."
Rory blushed a little at the comment. "At least let me pay ye' for the clothes.
Those count as nice things," he said, smiling sheepishly.
Sam chuckled. "No. Those are a gift," he said. He placed his hands on the boy's
chest, feeling the fabric and the firmness of his muscles. Sam could tell that
Rory was nowhere near as built as himself, but the 'average' body type that he
most likely had was all the more attractive to him. "The outfit looks very nice
on you. Was it to your liking?"
"Oh yes. It's very nice, thank ye'. It was really thoughtful. I didn't expect
it at all," the teen replied. "Ye'r note was really sweet, too."
"Oh? I'm surprised you could read my sloppy handwriting," the vampire laughed.
"Penmanship was never one of my strong suits."
As always, Sam ushered his boyfriend to the car, holding the door open for him.
With the teen seated comfortably, he returned to the driver's side and got in.
"Are you hungry? I went to the store this evening to get some food for you. I
don't know if what I got is okay though. I haven't eaten human food in so long,
I forgot what's good to eat, plus the cuisine has changed quite a bit since I
was a teenager. Milk was in metal containers, taken directly from the cows. It
wasn't in plastic jugs in the refrigerator."
It was Rory's turn to laugh. "I can't imagine! Ye' made e'erything by hand back
then, right? Baked ye'r own bread, hunted for ye'r meat, caught ye'r own fish,
grew ye'r own vegetables?"
Sam nodded. "We did. It was hard work, but somehow it made the meals taste so
much better. I guess because we worked for it, we earned the meals my mother
made for us. Of course, I haven't tasted food in well over a century, so it
very well may be just as good, if not better."
The brunette shrugged. "I doubt it. I ne'er had the kind o' food ye' had
growing up, but I've had homemade bread, homegrown vegetables before. They
tasted so much better than anything ye' buy in a store." The idea made him
grin, thinking about the fact that even though they lived very different lives,
they still shared some things in common. He had eaten food produced in the same
manner as the much older teen had decades before.
"Do ye' miss the past? Working so hard all day, catching ye'r food and growing
it and all? Do ye' think we're better off today?"
Sam thought a moment before answering. "Sometimes I miss the simplicity. People
rely on electronics so much now, have to be in contact with hundreds of people
everyday, have things like pollution and global warming and littering. Back
then, we didn't have electronics. We made our own fun. We didn't need to be in
touch with the entire world all the time. I think back then, people were much
more family oriented, and spent more time enjoying life and less time involved
with so many crazy, dramatic things."
Rory bit his bottom lip as he listened to Sam talk. "I wish I could see ye'r
memories o' back then. See what it was like, 'ave a little visit back in time.
See what ye' saw."
The vampire moved his hand over and clasped the younger teen's. "Are you
absolutely sure you can't read me? Not even the slightest bit?"
The boy shook his head. "I can't. Part o' me wishes I could, just to see the
memories o' what it was like back in ye'r human life, see for meself what it
was like. But…"
"But?"
"But not being able to read ye', it's such a relief. I don't 'ave to
concentrate so hard to keep out o' ye'r head. I can relax. I can kiss ye' and
not worry about sucking up ye'r mind. We can hold each other, and it doesn't
matter if our skin touches. With anyone else, I 'ave to keep thinking
about not seeing what's in their heads, and sometimes if I'm too tired, or
caught by surprise, I see them anyway, and most o' the time, I wish I hadn't
seen what I did. People keep a lot o' secrets in their memories. Some awful,
some good. Some of them disturbing, like this one boy who had some very strange
likings in the bedroom," Rory explained, giggling at the last bit.
Sam couldn't help but be curious. "Strange likings, huh? Dare I ask?"
"Aye. He liked t'be tied up and beaten by his girlfriend. Very strange stuff.
He even liked being kicked in the groin. I couldn't help but say 'That's so
disgusting!' out loud when I saw it. It was the very last image I saw, which I
refuse to describe. It really was disgusting. I ne'er want to do those kind
o'things."
"What do you want to do?"
Rory blushed deeply. "I uhm…I'm still a virgin. I don't know what I want t'do
really. I know I want me first time to be with someone I love. Something
special."
Sam smiled and nodded, committing it to memory. He wanted to do numerous things
with his boyfriend, but only when the teen was ready. Knowing this new
information, it made him realize all the more than he needed to make sure that
if they were to take things to the next level, that he made it just perfect for
him.
Before they had a chance to go on, they arrived at Sam's. Rory was relieved; he
wasn't quite ready to talk about what he wanted to do out loud. Part of him
really wanted to be intimate with Sam, to do all the things boyfriends were
supposed to do, but another part of him was scared to death of it all.
When they got inside, Sam led him straight to the kitchen. There was a loaf of
bread on the counter, and a bag of potato chips, with a jar of peanut butter
sitting next to it. Upon inspecting the fridge, Rory found a fully cooked
chicken in a plastic container as well as some mayonnaise and some cheese. To
drink, Sam had gotten two different beverage choices for him—Pepsi and beer.
"I uh, I asked someone what would go good on a sandwich, with a chicken. She
told me mayonnaise and cheese were good, so that's what I got. If you don't
like it, I can get you something else."
"No, no, this is fine. What's the peanut butter for though?"
"To dip your crackers in of course. That's what you do with them, right? Dip
them in different sauces and stuff?" Sam asked, becoming unsure if he had
messed up.
Rory giggled. "Usually people dip chips in salsa or cheese or something. These
are chips. Crackers are different, and those usually go with peanut butter," he
explained.
Sam would have flushed if he could. "Oh. I can get you something else to put
your chips in, or I can get some crackers. Or both."
"No, no, really this is fine. Chips are fine by themselves, and I can always
put peanut butter on bread for a sandwich. Not at the same time as the chicken
and mayonnaise and cheese though," the teen went on.
"Do you want me to cut up your chicken? I can warm it up for you. I didn't want
it to spoil so I put it in the refrigerator," Sam offered.
Rory smiled, taking the chicken container from the shelf. "Sure, ye' can slice
it if ye' want. Ye' probably 'ave more experience with carving meat than I do."
Sam grinned devilishly. He took the chicken and placed it on a cutting board,
setting the container aside. He took a large butcher knife from the knife stand
and began expertly carving up the chicken, taking off every bit of meat he
could find. He put it all back in the container, tossing the bones into the
newly-purchased trash can under the sink.
"Wow, ye' 'ave quite a talent there. Ye' could work in a butcher shop at an
all-night store if ye' wanted to," Rory praised. He took out two slices of
bread and slathered some mayonnaise on each of them, then piled on slices of
chicken until he had as much as he wanted. Next was a slice of cheese and he
was done.
"Want to sit at the table?" Sam asked. Rory nodded and carried his sandwich and
the bag of chips to the table. "What would you like to drink? The Pepsi or the
beer?"
Rory chuckled again. "The Pepsi is fine. I'm too young to drink beer. Ye' 'ave
to be twenty-one to drink alcohol."
Sam scratched his head. "Really? Weird. Well, you can drink it here if you want
to. I won't tell anyone."
"Thanks, but the Pepsi is fine for now."
Sam brought a can of soda to him and set it next to his plate. He then sat down
in the chair opposite the teen and watched him intently. "Sorry, don't mean to
stare."
Rory smiled at him. "So ye' really can't eat anything at all? It makes ye'
sick? Or does it just taste bad?"
"It tastes bad, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to hold it down. Vampire
bodies aren't meant to process human food." The teen nodded as he ate his
sandwich, happy that Sam had made such an effort to accommodate his human
needs. "If you want, I can take you to the grocery store and let you choose
some food to keep here. I need to pick up some more Tru Blood anyway."
"That'd be great. I don't wanna be any trouble though," Rory admitted.
"You're no trouble at all. It makes me happy to take care of you, and it makes
me happy to see your excitement about things. It's wonderful!" Sam said
cheerfully.
Rory blushed. "I ne'er expected anyone t'say that t'me. I honestly ne'er
thought I would e'er 'ave a boyfriend. Because o' me ability."
"Well, that's not an issue with me, so no problems there," the vampire replied,
leaning over the table and kissing the teen on the forehead.
Rory finished eating and then the pair of them watched an old movie on the TV.
Sam had a collection of classic movies on DVD, particularly old sci-fi flicks.
The various forms of technology fascinated Sam, and the various creatures were
amazing. To him, these creatures were like what vampires were to humans-
complete enigmas to be discovered and explored.
-ooo-
It was around midnight when Sam took Rory back home. The boy was yawning before
they even got around the corner. Sam kissed Rory goodnight, watching him enter
the house before driving away.
Rory shut the door behind him, all of the lights in the house off. Something
felt wrong. There wasn't the familiar hum of the air conditioner, or the
various other electronics that made faint sounds in the night. The air was
stale. He reached for the light switch, but instead of illumination. there were
sparks from the shattered bulbs in the lamps and ceiling lights.
"Whoa! What in the world? They're… shattered. I wonder why. It hasn't stormed
or anything so I can't imagine there was a power surge," he said aloud. He
suddenly smelled something putrid in the air. It was an odor he had never
smelled before, but somehow he knew it was bad.
"Hello?" he called out. No answer. He went into the living room, but found
nothing there, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that could be the source
of the smell. He moved on to the dining room, same thing. Shrugging, he headed
toward the stairs, deciding to go up to his room, away from the foul odor.
The steps creaked loudly, a noise he probably hadn't noticed before masked by
the hum of the AC. The smell was even worse at the top of the stairs.
What was it? He started to feel nervous, chill bumps covering his skin, slight
nausea creeping upon him. Something was definitely wrong. Just like he felt
when he first came in. Then the light bulbs were all broken, and then the
smell, and nobody around. None of it were good signs.
He knocked on Brittany's bedroom door, hoping she was still awake or at least
would wake enough to tell him what the smell was. Silence. He tried again.
Silence. He cracked the door open, calling out her name, but he noticed that
her bed was still made; she was nowhere around.
He hated to wake his host parents, but he was worried and starting to become
scared even. He rapped on the Pierce's bedroom door, getting no answer. He
knocked harder. Again he knocked, calling out their names. The smell was
strongest at the door, as if it were coming from inside their bedroom.
Chills running up and down his spine, he cracked open the door, about to call
out their names again, but his jaw dropped as he pushed the door the rest of
the way open. His breathing got light, and he felt dizzy. Lying on the bed were
Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, or what was left of them. In the dark he couldn't tell
exactly what was wrong with them-they looked to be almost boneless, like every
single one had been broken. Blood was everywhere, decorating the walls, the
curtains, it even stained the ceiling.
Shaking, he reached over for the light switch, flipping it on. Again only
sparks from a broken bulb, but the ceiling fan of the Pierces' bedroom came on,
something flying off of the blades, flying right at Rory.
Rory held his hands up in front of his face in defense of whatever was coming
at him, and he felt its wetness all over himself as there was an immense heat
in his palms coupled with a dull flash of brightness, and the object that had
come toward him exploded in a spray of liquid and flesh. He watched in horror
as the remains of Lord Tubbington, the family cat, smacked into the wall and
slowly slid down several inches before falling off and plopping to the floor.
The teen felt sicker than he ever had in his life. Blood had splattered all
over him, the smell of death was overwhelming, and the mental trauma of finding
his host parents and the family pet dead in their bedroom was too much. He fell
to his knees and vomited on the floor, barely able to breathe as he retched.
"Sam..." he croaked out, feeling closer and closer to passing out with every
moment. No, please don't pass out. Not now, not here, please oh God please… he
thought.
Rory didn't know exactly how much time had elapsed before he felt Sam's strong
arms holding him. "Oh my god, Rory what happened?"
"Don't know," was all he got out before he felt himself fade from
consciousness.
-ooo-
Rory awoke to the sensation of a strong breeze flowing over his body,
everything around him a blur. He was in Sam's arms, and Sam was running at
vampire speed. Rory hoped Sam was taking him back to his home, which thankfully
he was. As soon as they entered the house, Sam helped him up on his feet.
"Can you stand okay?" the vampire asked.
"I think so. Oh god, did that really happen? The Pierces, the blood, the... the
cat?" the teen asked in a daze. Sam held him steady, not trusting him to stand
on his own.
"I'm sorry. Yes. You're safe though. You're back at my house. Nobody knows
you're here. I even took a different route back just in case," Sam explained.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
Rory shook his head slowly, pulling his hands up close to his face, inspecting
for burns or wounds. "No. I'm fine. I felt the burning in me hands though. I
saw a bright light come from me palms, and then I was covered in... stuff." He
couldn't bring himself to say blood. Even though it was the cat's blood, he
liked Lord Tubbington, and it was not a pleasant experience having the poor
creature's remains all over him.
"We need to get you cleaned up. You're covered. It's all over your clothes, in
your hair, on your face. Come on, a hot shower will help you," Sam said. He
didn't wait for an answer but instead led the boy upstairs toward the bathroom.
The shower was quite large. It was a walk-in with a glass door and two
showerheads-one on each side and then a third on the ceiling. There was even a
bench molded into the wall. Sam reached inside and turned the knobs, adjusting
the temperature of the water.
Sam didn't say a word, but instead knelt down to help Rory take off his shoes
and socks, both of which were splattered in gore. He stood back up and pulled
the boy's shirt up over his head, red streaks staining his chest where the
liquid had soaked through. Sam was apprehensive at first about removing his
pants, not wanting Rory to feel taken advantage of, but the teen had already
unbuttoned them and was letting them slide to the floor.
Had the situation been different, Sam would have looked him over hungrily, but
as it were, all he felt was protective and filled with pity for the boy for
what he had witnessed. Rory stepped forward out of his jeans and boxers, now
completely nude for the first time in front of his boyfriend. Sam quickly
removed his own clothing, having never been shy about his own nudity.
"Come on, let's get in and get you cleaned up. You'll feel loads better," the
vampire said, taking Rory by the hand and leading him into the steaming hot
shower. Sam had only turned on one of the showerheads so they weren't fully
doused all at once.
The moment the water hit them, red flowed down Rory's skin until it pooled at
his feet before washing into the drain. Sam ran his fingers through the teen's
hair, trying to rinse out as much blood as he could. He reached over for the
bottle of shampoo, squirting more than a normal amount onto his head. He
lathered up Rory's dark hair, then turned on the overhead shower. The warm
water rained down from above, rinsing out the soap. He lathered and rinsed
twice more until he was certain no more blood remained on the brunette locks,
the scent having washed down the drain right along with the liquid.
"Close your eyes again," Sam instructed softly. He took a washcloth and
carefully washed off the teen's face until not a trace of gore was left.
Satisfied, Sam leaned forward and gave Rory an innocent kiss on the mouth
before continuing.
As Sam continued to wash him, the water faded into less and less red. He worked
his way down, gently scrubbing away the lather as he went, focusing solely on
the task at hand, refusing to allow his mind to drift in an inappropriate
direction. "You know, this reminds me of the time Steven fell in the edge of
the river, and sank in the mud. It took me forever to get all that crap off of
him and out of his clothes. Dad gave him a trip to the woodshed for that one,
but I gotta admit, it was pretty funny looking back on it." Rory chuckled,
taking the small delight in Sam sharing yet another one of his memories with
him.
When Sam was finished, he stood back up, turned off the overhead shower and
turned on the one on the other side to wash himself off. Rory backed away
toward the bench, sitting down as the spray hit him, leaning back with his head
against the wall. Sam noticed this, and in vampire speed quickly finished
washing himself off before turning off both showerheads. The steam kept them
warm long enough for Sam to reach out for two oversize towels.
The vampire wrapped one towel around his waist and took the other one and
wrapped it around the tired boy. "Stand up; let's dry you off and put some
clean clothes on you. I don't want you catching a chill."
Rory followed him out of the shower, the towel still wrapped around him like a
cloak, covering the majority of his body. Sam reached around him and dried him
off, mussing his hair and being ever so gentle around his groin. Sam was
pleased with himself for keeping his body under control, for keeping his focus.
He led him into the bedroom, having him sit on the bed while he rushed to find
clothes for him. Since Sam had a more muscular body, and thus required slightly
bigger sizes, his clothes were a bit loose on the lithe teen.
In a flash, Sam had his own clothes on as well, both of them fully dressed and
clean. "Thank ye'," Rory murmured, Sam sitting next to him on the bedside,
pulling him over to lean on his shoulder. "I wish that had been mud, like ye'r
brother."
"I'm sorry it wasn't. You shouldn't have had to see all that. I want to go back
there myself and do some looking around before we call the police to do their
job. I don't want them messing with anything I could find useful, like a scent
or evidence that might not mean anything to them but would be important to me
to use. I promise, I will find out who did this, hunt them down, and-" Sam
stopped himself, knowing how Rory felt about taking a human life. Or any life
for that matter.
"Kill them," the teen finished for him. "Hunt them down and kill them."
Sam just nodded. He knew Rory was scared and angry, but he also knew the boy
would never insist on murder. Of course that was assuming this was a human who
did it, which Sam was almost certain it was not. While a human was more than
capable of such a nasty deed, something about it just seemed supernatural. He
couldn't put his finger on it, however.
"Can I put you to bed now? I'll leave the TV on for you. I won't be gone long.
When I get back, we'll decide what to do about alerting the police."
"Okay," Rory replied quietly. "I wish ye'd stay, but I know ye' need to check
things out. I don't want to interfere with ye'r investigation." He slid back in
the bed under the covers, laid back with his head on the pillow, and used the
remote control to change the TV channel. He found some cartoons, left it to
play, and waited for himself to drift off to sleep.
-ooo-
Sam stepped into the Pierce residence, his awareness on overdrive. He wasn't
sure what he expected to jump out at him, but he had to be prepared for
whatever he might find. He briefly checked through the first floor, finding
nothing out of the ordinary in the dining or living rooms, nor the kitchen or
pantry except for broken light bulbs in every single setting. Several windows
were also cracked, but not completely blown out. There was no basement so he
decided to move on upstairs, cautiously ascending the steps.
When he had come to Rory's rescue earlier, he hadn't assessed much of what was
going on. He simply looked for an immediate threat such as an intruder, and
then ran to Rory's side. Now, alone, he could take a closer look.
No matter how many decades had passed, Sam would never get used to seeing death
and destruction no matter how many times he had witnessed and even committed so
many gruesome acts in the past. His personal opinion was that when he was no
longer fazed by the death of people or the destruction of people's lives, then
he had lost his humanity and was no better than a monster. He refused to give
in to that.
First off, he checked Rory's bedroom. Nothing at all seemed out of place. His
belongings were all neatly where he had left them. There was no sign of a
foreign entry into the room. At least none that Sam's heightened senses could
pick up.
A check of the bathroom was equally clear, as was the bedroom of the young girl
who also lived there-Brittany. It was only the master bedroom that had any
activity in it at all. The smell had intensified, a slight burning scent
leftover from Rory's light show. The light bulb here was broken as well, so he
had to rely on his ability to see in the dark. Colors were never as vivid, but
if he had any question to what a substance was, he could easily smell it. The
smell of blood had a very particular scent.
He could see the large splatter on the wall, the remains of the unfortunate
feline in a heap below, a few small bits of fur still stuck on the plaster. He
felt great pity for animals who were caught in the line of fire.
Judging by the streaks and splotches of blood on the other walls and ceiling,
the victims had been in motion enough to hit numerous locations. As morbid as
it was, he bent down to smell both the man, and the woman and then compared
their scent to that of the blood on the walls and ceiling. It was disgusting,
and he felt like he may vomit. While as a vampire he couldn't throw up food or
acid, he could still vomit up blood and he thought at any moment he just might
do that.
He studied the wounds on the Pierces and determined that it was the woman who
had bled out on the ceiling, and that the only wounds she had were a multitude
of tears in the skin, as if someone had grabbed different ends and just pulled
until it gave way. Her chest looked as if it had been blown out, most likely
from the inside. The man was missing part of his back and was covered in
similar tears. It was his blood on the walls. The bed was covered in a mixture
from both of them.
Sam had to get out of there for a moment, his senses on overload. After several
minutes, he went back in, looking around to see anything that might give a clue
as to who or what had done this. Much to his dismay, he found absolutely
nothing. Whoever or whatever had come into the room had left not a trace, not
so much as a perfume or cologne lingering scent, not a hair nor drop of spit,
nothing.
The vampire went into the bathroom where he promptly leaned over the toilet and
vomited a hefty amount of dark red blood. He was glad Rory wasn't there to see
it, the sight might be too much for him to handle.
Not wanting Rory to ever have to set foot in the house again, but also not
wanting to rouse suspicion, he settled on taking just a few of the teen's
belongings for him to have while he was away. He found one of Rory's larger
suitcases in his closet, which he promptly filled with several outfits,
underwear, socks, a couple pairs of shoes and a windbreaker. Scanning the room
for entertainment, he found the teen's laptop sitting on his desk. He quickly
gathered everything into the laptop case and set it next to the suitcase.
Sitting on the bedside table was a handheld game console that Sam recognized
from commercials on TV. All he saw was the console, the charger it was
connected to, and a small case of three games. That would have to be enough for
the time being and he was more than willing to purchase whatever the boy wanted
to entertain himself. Those he put into the suitcase as well. He would take him
to the store later for new toiletries—Sam wasn't about to waste time sorting
through such things that could easily be replaced. It would also look rather
suspicious if only Rory's things were gone from the bathroom. Items from his
bedroom could easily be explained; he needed them while spending the night at a
friend's.
As he finished packing up one thought came to mind. What about the girl,
Brittany? What if she came home to all this-her parents and her beloved pet
slaughtered, her roommate missing? Rory hadn't said anything about where she
was, and it worried him that she may come home before the police came.
It dawned on him then that her number would most likely be in Rory's cell
phone. He would speed back to his house, rouse Rory to send her a warning not
to go home, and then call the police to investigate. He knew cops were
skeptical of vampires, especially with the recent deaths, but due to the nature
of things, they had no choice. They couldn't just leave them rotting in the
house. The girl would need somewhere to go, and something would have to be done
about Rory.
Sam debated with himself as he ran back home. The thought that they might ship
the teen back to Ireland in light of the incident was a very real possibility.
The idea terrified him and one single possibility came to mind-something he
hated, but was reluctantly willing to use: glamour. He could glamour the police
into releasing Rory into his care for the time being. He would only do it on
one condition, however. He decided he had to ask Rory first, to see if he
wanted to stay even after this, and if so, then and only then would Sam use his
power over the human mind on the proper authorities.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 6: Aftermath *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: Halfway through the season! I started this story
     intending to do just a few chapters, but I started getting really
     into it, having so much fun with it, and decided to go on for a full
     season's worth of chapters—twelve. Confused? Shows like True Blood
     and other 'pay channels' tend to only have twelve episodes each, with
     no commercials. The stories are more compact and little to no
     'filler'. Shows like Glee have twenty-two episodes, commercials, and
     often several 'filler' episodes with little to no plot advancement.
     Hence why TMatL is twenty-five (okay so I added a few!), and MVM is
     twelve. Just thought you might like that little insight of nothing.

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 6: Aftermath
"I 'ave to be in the house, don't I?" Rory asked not long after he woke up.
"How else will they know I was e'en there t'see they were… ye' know."
"I don't want you in that house again," Sam said firmly. "I couldn't find
anything, and it even made me sick, and when a vampire feels sick over
something, you know it's bad. I don't want you in there."
Rory sighed. He knew Sam was right—it wasn't a good idea to go back to the
house, but he had to make sure the police were contacted, and he had to make
sure Brittany was okay. She was an irresponsible airhead, but she was still a
friend.
"How about this? We go t'the house, but I act like I'm running out o'it,
scared. I'll call the police and when they're on their way, ye' can show up to
be with me. Ye' can watch e'erything from across the street, just so ye' know
I'm safe."
"Fine. What about Brittany? Your friend. What will you do about her?"
Rory frowned. "I don't know. I sent her a text like ye' said to, but all I said
was that I would be out late and not to hurry home. That's all. Anything else
and the police might suspect something. As soon as I call them, I'll call her
and… Oh God, I don't want t'call her. I don't want to 'ave to tell her." A
fresh wave of tears streamed down his face as he thought just how much more
horrible it would be for Brittany, the only daughter of the now deceased
Pierces, and her best friend in the world, the cat Lord Tubbington, just as
gone.
Sam nodded but then gulped as he thought about the question he was about to
pose. "I know you're upset, but… I want you to make a decision for me."
Rory scrunched up his face, wiping aside his tears. "Decision? About what?"
The vampire sat on the bed next to the teen and looked him in the eyes. "This
is going to be difficult. Getting these cops involved, it makes things sticky.
I don't want them to send you back to Ireland, or anything like that. Unless
you choose to go back…"
Rory shook his head. "No, I want to stay here, with ye'. There's no reason I
'ave to go home yet!" he exclaimed. Sam couldn't help but smile. "So was that
the decision? To stay or go?"
"No. This is. Do you want me to glamour the police so that you can come stay
with me for a while? I'd take over as your legal guardian, just as the Pierces
were. I'll only do it if you give me permission," Sam answered reluctantly. "I
know I told you I hate doing it, but in this case… it's a necessary lie.
Otherwise things might get a lot worse regarding your status here."
The teen sat there in deep thought for a moment. Sam was right. Once the police
became involved, they very well may send him home, and that was the last thing
he wanted right now. He wanted to be safe, and he wanted Brittany to be safe as
well. Maybe glamouring would be the answer. Sam could force the cops into
believing he was supposed to have been under Sam's care all along. He could
make sure the guilt was aimed away from himself and maybe even find out some
answers to their questions with the proper queries and mind control.
"What about Brittany? She's eighteen but she's too irresponsible t'take care o'
herself. She can't be alone. But she can't be with us either. I don't see that
goin' well. I 'ave to know she's going to be okay though. It's the least I can
do for her after… this."
"I could have her stay with a friend or other family member if you like. That'd
probably be best, one of her other family members is bound to have to help her
with the paperwork and such. She could stay with them. That I can allow to
happen the way it is. It's you that we have to uhh adjust for."
"I thought ye' didn't like t'do ye'r glamouring? Ye' said not t'ask ye' t'do it
again," Rory said sullenly. "I can't ask ye' t'do it, Sam."
Sam continued to look into his ocean blue eyes. "I want to do this. This is
different. I mean, I could just do it without you even knowing, but I didn't
think it was right not to ask you. If you truly don't want me to do it, I
won't, but just think about the consequences. You would be sent back home most
likely. You may even be implicated in the… murders. Brittany would be lost
without some sort of guidance or prompting, judging from what you tell me about
her. I'm not going to force this to happen, but please think about it from both
angles."
The teen looked away, frowning and sighing. There really wasn't much of a
decision to make. Either Sam could glamour the police and have things go the
way they needed them to, or Sam would just have to let things take their
natural course. "Alright. Ye' can do it. Work ye'r magic so I can be here with
ye'. And make sure they contact Brittany's family so she can stay with someone.
I insist she is taken care of."
"Agreed," Sam said. He pulled the boy into a hug and kissed the top of his
head. "Now let's get you dressed and put this plan of ours into action and get
it over with. This whole thing sickens me, and I know it does you as well."
Rory nodded. "Yeah, let's get moving. The sooner we can get this done, the
sooner we can make sure Brittany is safe and taken care of, and the sooner we
can move forward. I wish ye' could make me forget it all. It's so awful."
"I wish I could glamour myself to forget. Sadly, I can't. Vampires can't
glamour themselves or each other," Sam replied, standing up. "Come on, let's
get moving."
"Right." Rory got up and unpacked some clothes from his suitcase. He changed,
no longer shy in front of his boyfriend, and then hugged him tight. "Carry me?"
"Yes. Hold on tight. I'll drop you a couple of houses down, like always and
then hide. I'll be watching you. Just go on in like normal, and wait long
enough for you to have gone upstairs and seen… and then come out again, putting
on the best panic attack you can muster. Any sign of trouble and I come out
immediately."
"Panic attack, huh? That shouldn't be too hard. I'm pretty sure I'm still in
panic mode," Rory commented.
The pair went downstairs and stepped outside of the door. Rory hopped up into
Sam's arms, a funny sight really, since Rory was actually about an inch or two
taller than Sam. Rory felt the wind rushing by him, the whistle in his ears,
the breeze through his hair. It was amazing how fast Sam could run.
Moments later, after walking down the road to his now-former home, he was
standing in front of the door to the Pierce residence, Sam in the shadows
across the street, watching intently. It was time.
-ooo-
Feeling incredibly stupid for the theatrics, but also aware of the need for it,
Rory stepped through the front door, but moved no further. Sam had told him to
wait just long enough to have gone upstairs before coming back out, and those
couple of minutes seemed like hours. The rancid odor was still present, the
silence even creepier than before. It felt like he was standing at the doorway
to Hell itself, standing in a passage to death. Finally, taking a deep breath,
he let out the closest thing he could manage to a blood-curdling scream.
He then dashed out the door, almost wanting to laugh at the whole thing if it
wasn't for the dire seriousness of it all. He started screaming for help right
away, pulling out his phone and dialing nine-one-one. He saw a couple of lights
already coming on in the house directly to the right, and across the street.
Good, he had been heard. At least the foolishness wasn't for naught.
"I need help! There's been a murder in me house!" Rory cried into the phone.
"What d'ya mean ye' can't un'erstand me? Help. Murder. Send help!" he barked
into the phone, irritated. He had a thick accent but it wasn't so strong that
simple words couldn't be made out. He verified the address, spelling it out
very slowly as if the person on the other end was mentally impaired.
By then, the neighbors had come out to see what the commotion was.
"What's all this noise, kid!?" a middle-aged man shouted in the night. "People
are trying to sleep!" The man was already stepping outside of his door and onto
his porch, wearing a tacky robe that barely covered his protruding belly.
"There's been a murder!" Rory shouted back. The man seemed taken aback by the
response and hotfooted it over to the Pierces' lawn, his slippers flying off
into the grass as he ran.
"What're you talkin about? A murder, here?" he asked gruffly, looking from the
teenager, toward the house, and back again..
An older lady came from across the street, wringing her hands. "Oh dear, I knew
something was going to happen around here soon. I just knew it. It's those
vampires I tell you. I bet one was right in that house!" she said, pointing her
wrinkled finger at the house. She, too, was dressed in a robe, except it was so
big it almost swallowed her frail frame.
"No, it couldn't 'ave been! There was blood e'erywhere! They wouldn't 'ave left
all that blood!" Rory argued. Of course, they had to jump directly to blaming
vampires. Stupid bigots! he thought. "It had to be something else! A crazy
person or a monster!"
It was then that Sam ran up to them, at a human pace, grabbing and hugging the
teen. "What's going on? What happened?" he asked hurriedly.
"The Pierces. They're dead, murdered," Rory replied, tears streaming down his
face. "It has to be murder, they were… they were… I can't say it! It's
horrible!" he shouted. Sam started to walk up to the house but Rory stopped
him. "Don't go in there. The murderer could still be around!"
"Good point. Did you call the police?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.
The teen nodded. "They should be here soon I hope. It was awful!"
"Get away from him!" the old lady shouted, a look of recognition crossing her
wrinkled face. She moved her trembling finger toward Sam. "You there, you get
right away from him you vampire!"
The middle-aged man backed up. "Wait, this man is a vampire? How do you know?"
"I seen him around, in the store. Buying those Tru Bloods. Only them vampires
drink that stuff. Boy, do you know he's a vampire?" the old lady croaked. "Do
you know about him?"
Rory looked up at Sam, then back at the old lady. "Yes, ma'am. He's a good man;
he's me friend."
The old lady snorted. "Good man my foot, boy! He isn't even a man, he's dead! I
bet he's the one who did all this!"
"Ye' take that back! That's not true!" Rory shouted. He had expected the police
to be skeptical, but he also knew Sam was prepared to handle them. He hadn't
thought about neighbors knowing who Sam was, let alone what he was.
"Don't raise your voice to me, sonny!" the lady shouted back. "I been around a
lot longer than you have, I know a thing or two about them vampires, way more
than you do!"
Rory was about to go off on her again but he looked over at the middle-aged
man, saw his disapproving glare. The portly man looked right at Sam, frowning,
but then something weird occurred. They met eyes and the neighbor suddenly
looked to be in a daze. It was the same look Mr. and Mrs. Pierce had on their
faces when Sam was glamouring them.
"You don't want to get involved with this. You came out here to help the boy,
but you don't think vampires did it. In fact, you insist they didn't do it,
citing evidence that there was too much blood left for it to have been a
vampire," Sam said as he drew the man into his eyes.
The neighbor looked over at the old lady. "Vampires didn't do this, Ethel. Like
the kid said, if it had been, there wouldn't have been so much as a drop of
blood left. This guy didn't do it," the man said to her, pointing his fat
finger at Sam.
"He's done bewitched you with some sort of magic! I knows it!" Ethel screeched.
She then got either brave or stupid and approached Sam, poking him in the chest
with her bony finger. "Look here, you! You take that magic offa him right now!
I's know you did this, you-"
Ethel stopped talking suddenly and her finger dropped from Sam's chest. "I
didn't do anything, Ethel. I came to make sure my friend here was safe.
Vampires didn't commit this crime. You came out here because you heard him
scream and wanted to make sure the sweet boy was alright. More importantly,
Ethel, you're concerned about the girl, Brittany. Her whereabouts, her safety."
Rory grinned to himself at Sam's glamouring. He would have been happier had Sam
made her cluck like a chicken, pecking at the ground, but that sort of thing
was above him. For now. If the lady continued on her tirade, the teen was very
much likely to beg Sam to have her act like a farm animal.
Suddenly, Ethel changed her attitude. "Where's the girl? That sweet
cheerleader. She wasn't in there was she?" she asked in a much softer tone than
she had used before.
"No, ma'am, it was just her mum and dad," Rory replied, swallowing back a
smirk. "And her cat. Her poor kitty cat."
"Well, you're okay it seems. Does she have one of those portable telephones?
See where she is, tell her she needs to come home straight away," the elderly
woman instructed. Rory nodded and pulled out his cell phone, dialing his
roommate.
"Brittany? Hi, it's Rory. I need ye' to come home right away," he said. "I
uh... I don't know. Just come home, now," Rory said sternly. "Okay, see ye'
soon."
Rory turned toward Sam, his eyes filled with worry. He knew the only reason he
was maintaining any sense of sanity at the moment was because he had Sam with
him to keep him safe, otherwise he would have gone into a state of shock long
ago.
"Well, is the sweetheart on her way?" Ethel asked anxiously. The fat man, who
still hadn't given his name, simply watched them with a dull look in his eyes.
"Yes, ma'am. She's on her way now," Rory answered.
It wasn't much longer before Brittany arrived, as did the police. There were
several cop cars and numerous officers. Everything became a sudden blur as
Brittany tried to get in the house, but nobody would let her. Officers asked
Rory a ton of questions, most of which he responded to just by letting words
flow from his mouth, unsure what he was even saying. Overall he knew Sam was
going to take care of the situation, but it was still overwhelming.
A female officer took Brittany aside and sat her down in the seat of one of the
cars. She was obviously explaining to her that her family was dead as well as
her cat, and the cheerleader went into a fit of hysterics. Gone was her air-
headed persona, but instead a dramatic, emotional, confused and hurt girl
bawling in the arms of the officer. The words coming from her muffled sobs were
incoherent, mindless blabber. The words of the heartbroken.
Time passed by at varied speeds. One moment there were cops asking more
questions, the next there seemed to be nothing going on but waiting around.
Then when ambulances arrived the two bodies of the victims were wheeled out in
body bags on stretchers. Brittany lost it again, screaming madly for her mom
and dad. Eventually she was forced to be sedated. The EMT was standing in the
way when someone walked past with Lord Tubbington, also in a much smaller body
bag, shielding her from seeing yet another troubling sight.
Rory noticed that Sam seemed to be taking each officer aside, one by one,
talking to them under the guise of a social worker. It was a far stretch, he
didn't even look like a professional anything, and it was surely an odd time
for a social worker to be present, but with his skill in glamouring, he
succeeded in doing exactly what needed to be done.
As some of the police began to clear out, one of the officers approached the
pair, suggesting that they go home. "There's nothing more that you can do here
right now. I suggest you both go home and rest." She then turned her attention
to Rory, noticeably forcing herself to remain stoic. "We have your number in
case we need your assistance. You'll be going home with Mr. Evans here,
correct?" the female officer asked.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be taking care of Rory for now, and it will be just fine.
Everyone else is aware of the situation," Sam said, taking over the
conversation and looking the woman in the eyes.
"Certainly, sir. I bid you a safe trip home, and take safety precautions. Lock
all doors, keep some outdoor lights on, check that all windows are locked, and
have your phone next to your bed just in case. I'm sure you'll be fine, but
play it safe," the woman instructed.
Both boys thanked her and walked down the street a few houses away, and then
ducked into the shrubbery. Rory felt the rush of air against his skin yet again
as he held onto Sam's neck. The deed was done. Sam had glamoured everyone, the
authorities were taking care of the case, and Brittany was taken to the
hospital to wait for her grandmother to watch after her in her sedated state.
Grandmother Pierce would see to it the cheerleader was well taken care of, the
further away, the better.
-ooo-
"Are you alright?" Sam asked once they had returned to his home. The boy nodded
slowly, but it was apparent that the night's events were catching up with him.
"You're not, I can tell."
"I'll be fine," Rory replied. "What about ye'? Are ye' okay? All that glamour
magic, doesn't it tire ye' out or anything?"
Sam took the teen's hand as they walked up the stairs to the bedroom. "It does
give me a headache after a while. So many people, one after the other. I'll
just rest extra well when I sleep."
"Can ye' e'er sleep at night? Or be awake during the day?"
"I could, yes. But it's pretty pointless to be awake during the day when I
can't go anywhere. I have to stay in, and that's assuming the house is light-
proof. Any sunlight gets in, it can hurt me. Seems all the more sensible to
just go with how it's always been. Awake at night, sleep during the day. A
hundred-fifty-three years worth of habit would be hard to change anyway," the
blonde replied. They sat down on the bed together, holding hands and snuggling
up against each other.
"I was just curious," Rory trailed off. He looked up at Sam and smiled. "Thank
ye'. For e'erything tonight."
Sam hugged him tight, planting a soft kiss on the boy's mouth. "Of course. I'd
do anything for you," he whispered. "I love you," he said softly, not even
realizing the words left his mouth. They simply flowed out as natural as
breathing.
The vampire could sense the teen's blood warm, the increased flutter of his
heartbeat, the excitement in his pulse. That was all the sign he needed to know
that Rory had heard him.
"I love ye', too, Sam," Rory whispered back. He moved his head and kissed Sam,
their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Rory could feel Sam's fangs in
their retracted state, a strange sensation, like hard, sharp bumps behind where
his eyeteeth were. It was the first time he had really noticed them while
kissing. He ran his tongue over the strange lumps, his sudden curiosity
impeding on his desires.
"Be careful, they're sharp," Sam cautioned, pulling back slightly.
"Can I touch them?" the teen asked timidly. Sam smiled and bared his sharp
teeth, displaying them for the first time for him. Rory reached out with his
finger and ran the tip along the sharp edge, then around the front. "Wow…" his
whispered. He pushed gently on Sam's tooth and the man retracted his fangs, the
younger teen's finger following back until he was touching the fang. It felt a
little odd having someone examine his mouth so closely, but Sam was actually
finding Rory's curiosity endearing. The boy was truly fascinated and not the
least bit unnerved.
Rory let his finger drop from Sam's teeth to his bottom lip, running his finger
across the tender flesh. "They're neat," he stated simply. He then pulled his
digit back all the way and leaned forward, their mouths meeting. Rory continued
to run his tongue along the ivory tusks of his boyfriend, the hard lumps no
longer feeling foreign. The vampire started to feel nervous, not wanting the
teen to cut himself accidentally, nor was he sure how much longer he could
contain his excitement to keep his fangs retracted to begin with. It was one
thing to bare them on purpose, but if they popped out while kissing, he could
damage the boy's tongue.
Rory sucked in on Sam's bottom lip, nibbling gently and massaging it with his
tongue. To be so inexperienced, he surely knew what he was doing. Their hands
began to roam, touching the bare skin of their arms, slipping under the hems of
their shirts to feel the firm flesh of their torsos.
They fell back onto the bed, Rory straddling Sam, pulling the vampire's shirt
up to his neck, exposing his toned physique. Rory's eyes widened as he was
finally able to appreciate the sight before him. He had seen it before, but
this was different; this was during a time of arousal. He reached out to touch
the tight muscles on Sam's chest, massaging with his fingers.
At first it was odd to be touching Sam so lustfully. He had wanted to touch him
all along. He had wanted to see the man in his nude form, bared just for the
pair of them, but he knew before that he wasn't ready. But now… Rory had no
more time to even process the unexpected feelings before Sam took the lead.
In a flash, Rory found himself on his back, Sam above him. Sam had flipped them
over so that it was he who had Rory's shirt to his neck, exposing his chest.
Rory wasn't built like Sam in the least. He was closer to an average physique,
with only a little muscle and little to no definition. It was that normality
that Sam found so arousing. Over one-hundred years with other vampires like
himself who had perfect bodies made him crave something different,
something human. Something a little less 'perfect'.
Sam leaned down and began to hungrily kiss the teen, holding his wrists down
near his head. They both began to moan in arousal as Sam bucked his hips
against Rory's, their growing erections rubbing against each other through
their jeans.
The elder teen reached down between them and unbuttoned both pairs of jeans,
allowing them both to 'breathe' just a little more. He still had Rory's wrists
above his head with one hand, the teen frantic to let his hands get ahold of
what he was so desperately desiring.
They continued to kiss, Sam attempting to maintain control but having little
success. He could feel himself wanting to let loose. He could feel his teeth
wanting to shift, a normal effect of vampire ecstasy.
"How far do you want to go?" Sam whispered in the boy's ear. "It's your
decision how far we take this tonight."
"All the way," Rory replied breathlessly. "I want t'be ye'rs, Sam. I want ye'
t'be me first."
Grinning, Sam reached between them again and shucked off his own jeans and
underwear, and in a swift movement, they found themselves completely nude on
the bed. Sam laid atop his boyfriend as they ground their groins into each
other, feeling the slickness of their dripping erections. Sam knew the teen
could only take but so much before he went over the edge, and the boy seemed to
so eagerly want as much as he could.
"Oh me god Sam, this is amazin'! Just feeling ye' like this!" Rory exclaimed
breathily. Never in his sixteen years did he think that someone would actually
want to be this intimate with him, yet here he was with this blonde Adonis,
cocks rubbing against each other in a slick mess.
With one hand, Sam still held the teen's wrists above his head, and with his
other hand he slid his palm between their bodies, wrapping his strong fingers
around Rory's aching cock, the teen gasping in surprise. Before he could say
anything, Sam kissed him, all the while slowly stroking his hand up and down
the firm shaft. The elder teen used the foreskin to his advantage, tweaking the
sensitive tissue between his fingertips, rolling his thumb around the teen's
wet slit and then finally beginning an agonizingly slow downward stroke, all to
do it over again.
"You've never been touched like this before? By anyone?" Sam asked quietly.
"No… ne'er," Rory answered, his embarrassment pushed aside by raging hormones.
"I thought I would ne'er get to be touched like this by someone. I ne'er
thought-"
Sam placed his finger over the boy's lips, silencing him. "Well, I'm touching
you now. I'm going to let go of your wrists and you can touch me the way you've
wanted to touch a man. Don't be afraid. Let your desires guide your hands."
With that declaration, the vampire released his grip on Rory's wrists. It
didn't take the boy long to do just as Sam had instructed, his hands quickly
finding Sam's firm, toned back, fingertips massaging into the tight flesh.
The elder teenager slowed his stroking for fear of bringing things to an end
all too soon. He reveled in the pleasure that came from feeling his much
younger boyfriend's hands explore his smooth, yet cool and dry, muscles. He was
being touched by someone who actually loved him, in ways he hadn't been touched
in ages. Not by anyone that mattered
Rory's palms brushed over Sam's back, down to his rear. He squeezed tight, Sam
letting out a quiet moan of approval. Pleased, the boy motioned for Sam to back
off just a bit so he could touch the man's muscular, hairless chest. It was
amazing to finally feel a man's pectorals under his palms. As he let himself
roam, he paused slightly to tweak the vampire's pert nipples, then moved
further down until his hands were wrapped around Sam's manhood, Sam's very
impressively sized manhood.
"Were ye' this big e'en as a human?" Rory asked shyly. Sam giggled slightly.
"Yeah. Kinda runs in the family I think. My dad was lucky and my brother looked
like he might be, too," the vampire replied. "Wait! That sounded horrible! It
was the old days and modesty didn't happen a whole lot and-" Sam stopped
babbling while both of them burst into laughter for a moment before the raging
testosterone took back over.
Regaining his hungry desires, Rory knew it was time to ask his boyfriend to do
what he had been wanting to do ever since seeing the act in porn. "Sam, I want
to…" the Irishman began, but couldn't finish his sentence. Despite their
current situation, he was still rather shy to express what he wanted to do with
his boyfriend. Sam urged him on, assuring him that it was alright to express
himself. "I want to… ye' know, put me mouth on ye'."
The vampire grinned, happy to oblige. In a flash, Sam was on his back and now
Rory was above him. "This leaves you in total control. If you don't like it,
stop," he said. He secretly hoped that the boy would love it, for one of his
favorite things over the decades had been to receive a very skilled blow job.
Rory moved down so that he was lying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, his
head very close to Sam's groin. He decided he would simply start with what he
saw in the porn movies and hopefully instinct would take over. With one hand he
held the base of the shaft, and then slowly got his mouth very close to the
tip. He stuck out his tongue and licked the head, tasting a man's pre-seed for
the first time.
The salty taste didn't deter the teen in the least. In fact, he found he liked
the flavor as he continued to lick the glans, then cocked his head to the side
to go up and down the trunk of the shaft, the sensations shooting through Sam
already giving the man chills.
Sam watched the boy intently, all the more turned on by the fact that Rory had
chosen him to share this moment with. It had been quite a while since he had a
mouth on his manhood and the fact that it was his boyfriend made it all the
better.
Feeling more relaxed and comfortable, Rory finally opened his mouth wide and
lowered his head onto Sam's raging hard cock. He made a slight gagging noise as
the large member rubbed against his throat, but he simply pulled back a little.
Sealing his lips around the flesh, his instincts did in fact kick in, and he
let them take over.
"Oh God, you're so good at that!" Sam sighed. "Please don't stop…"
Rory had no intention of stopping anytime soon. He loved the feeling of Sam's
thick, leaking member in his mouth, the texture of the sensitive organ tickling
his tongue in just the right way. He sucked hungrily, bobbing his head up and
down, moving his hands down to massage the man's heavy balls.
Sam was groaning loudly, biting his bottom lip. He lost himself, putting his
hands on Rory's head. He didn't push down, however, but merely ran his fingers
through the boy's chocolate locks, his fingernails digging into his scalp as
the boy worked on him. Sam arched his hips up slightly in rhythm with the
sucking, very gently thrusting into the teen's insatiable mouth.
Sam was lost in his ecstasy when he noticed the warmth on his cock waning. He
glanced down to see Rory working him more slowly, the inexperienced teen most
likely tiring out as often happened with any amateur. He smiled as Rory paused,
looking up at him with nervous eyes.
"That was wonderful," the vampire praised. He motioned for the boy to lie on
him and kiss him again. By the time they were finished with their lip-lock,
Rory was on his back, Sam hovering over him. "Your turn now," he teased, edging
himself down the bed.
"What about ye'r teeth? What if they-"
"I'll be careful. Very careful. I promise," Sam assured him, locking eyes with
the teen. "It will take every tiny ounce of control for me, but I swear you
will get nothing but enjoyment from this." He was lying on his stomach, on his
elbows just as Rory had been minutes before, his face directly in the teen's
crotch.
"Ye' don't 'ave to do it if it's that much trouble," Rory said with a tinge of
sadness in his voice. Sam looked up at him again, his eyes silencing him.
"Just trust me. Relax, and feel the sensations. It'll be great," the vampire
stated. He licked his lips and then placed a gentle kiss on the tip of his
boyfriend's erection, tasting the few drops of precum in the slit.
When Sam finally began sucking on him, Rory's entire body exploded inside. The
pleasure was nothing like he had imagined. The thick lips, the cool mouth, the
wetness, the suction. All of it combined to send pulse after pulse of energy
through the boy's body. He moaned loudly as Sam worked on him with an expertise
gained over decades of experience.
Sam continued his painfully slow oral ministrations on the virgin teen, forcing
him to savor every single wave that flowed through his body. Sam sensed the boy
was close, felt the quivering of his body, the quickening of his breaths, the
racing of his heart, and heard the whimpering coming from his mouth. Not
wanting things to end too soon, the vampire finally stopped, scooting back up
to kiss him.
"Not just yet. I want this to last for you," the blonde said, nuzzling his head
against the brunette's smooth chest. He let his fingers rest in the fine, dark
brown hairs of the teen's pubes, but didn't give his aching organ any
attention. "Do you want me to take you?"
Rory was normally oblivious to alternate meanings of words, however this time
he fully understood what Sam meant. Sam wanted to make love to him. Completely.
"Y-yes. I want to feel what it's like, ye' know, with ye' inside me," Rory
replied, his voice a little unsure.
"You know this isn't going to be easy?" Sam whispered in his ear. Neither of
them thought anything of their hushed voices; no one was there to hear them,
yet the quietness added to the eroticism. "Are you sure you want to do this?
It's going to hurt at first."
"I'm sure. I trust ye'," Rory replied between heaving breaths. "I want t'be
ye'rs. Just like ye' said. I don't trust anyone else, just ye'," he said
softly.
Sam could feel his ragged breaths, see the begging in his eyes, sense the
intense heat of his blood. Every sign of the boy's body screamed for the
vampire to take the teen to the end.
"Please, Sam… I want it, I want ye'."
Ever the gentleman, Sam was happy to oblige his young lover. "Protection won't
be necessary since I can neither carry nor pass along any form of disease to
you, so don't be alarmed when you see that there are no condoms here."
Rory simply nodded, having not even given thought to the safety issue. He just
assumed that Sam would do what was appropriate, and that with healing blood,
anything could be fixed anyhow. Things like disease seemed rather trivial
compared to the ability to heal a human body.
"Bend your knees and spread your legs so I can get to you," the vampire
instructed. He gently guided Rory into the position he wanted, the teen on his
back, legs parted for his access. Rory flinched slightly when he felt something
sticky and wet touching his opening.
"Blood, saliva, and precum are the body's natural lubricants," Sam explained as
his spit slicked finger pressed up against the virgin ass. He had pierced his
fingertip with his fang, allowing it to bleed just enough to massage into the
boy to lessen his pain as he prepared to be penetrated.
"It feels weird…." Rory said with a slight giggle.
Sam grinned. "Just wait until…" He pressed his finger harder until the tight
muscle loosened just enough to admit him. "That probably feels weird, but
remember this above anything else while we do this. Breathe. If it hurts, take
deep breaths. Relax yourself. Relax your muscles." The entire time he repeated
the mantra, he pushed further in right up until he felt the tip of his finger
find the target – the walnut of Rory's prostate.
The younger teen let out a yelp of pleasant surprise as his most sacred spot
was touched for the very first time. He had never even explored himself this
way before, and the sudden, unexpected sensation was too much to keep contained
as Sam continued to massage the boy with his fingertip.
Several minutes passed as the vampire gently rubbed the gland, pressing a bit
harder to insert a second finger. The boy beneath him was so lost in euphoria
that he never even felt the third finger until Sam stopped moving his digits
altogether.
"You realize you have three of my fingers inside of you?" he asked with a grin.
"I think you might be ready for me."
"What do ye' need me t'do?" Rory asked nervously. Sam smiled and kissed him
gently before answering.
"Just put your legs up on my shoulders, and relax. It might feel uncomfortable
at first, but shouldn't be any worse than my fingers. Just remember how great
it felt when I first touched you inside, and then imagine how amazing it will
feel when it's my cock pressing up against it."
It had been a long time since Sam had deflowered someone, particularly a male,
but he was determined to make it good for him. "Let your hands roam how they
want. Touch me, touch yourself, let them be free however you want. Just let
your body go and I'll take care of the rest. Don't be afraid. You made it this
far, it's only gonna get better from here."
Rory nodded, their eyes meeting and locking. Sam guided the teen's legs up,
leaning against him. Rory never noticed that Sam had cut his hand on his fangs
before reaching down and guiding himself up against the tight, virgin opening.
Sam pressed gently, using his free hand to massage his boyfriend's chest.
"Just relax, deep breaths," the vampire cooed as he leaned down close and
pushed, the head of his dick forcing its way past the ring of muscle. He could
sense the boy's heartbeat increase, his heart pounding in his chest. "Relax,
calm down. Don't be scared"
"But Sam… it hurts," Rory replied, a pained expression on his face. "It's way
bigger than your fingers!" Even as he complained, Rory felt a slight tingling
sensation, which Sam quickly explained as the effect of his blood easing the
pain and healing the muscles as they strained to accommodate his manhood. Never
once did he take his eyes off the boy, not even to blink.
"Breathe in real deep now," Sam instructed. When Rory breathed in, that's when
Sam pushed further in. "Deep breath again," he said. He continued to rub the
boy's chest, his other hand no longer needed to guide his erection inside, he
gripped Rory's still-aching dick and gave it a stroke.
"One more deep breath…" and with that, Sam pushed the rest of the way in, the
head of his cock meeting the walnut, the teen beneath him gasping loudly. "I'll
wait a minute while you get used to it, but then I'm gonna move real slow. As
we keep going, you'll eventually be able to handle me moving faster. Don't
think about it, just let it happen."
"I'm nervous," the Irish teen admitted shyly. Sam placed his finger over his
lips, signaling him to silence.
"Don't be. Let your mind relax just like your body. Don't think about anything,
just let the pleasure take over. I can sense everything about your body, I know
what you can handle, and I know when you're close. Don't be afraid to fall
apart. You'll be in heaven."
It was surprisingly easy for Rory to clear his mind; it was one of the first
tricks he taught himself to block the memories he was assaulted with. His head
was completely relaxed, his hands taking control of themselves as they roamed
over Sam's muscular chest all the way down to his firm ass.
Having watched plenty of porn on the internet, Rory had expected them both to
be sweating like mad, their bodies engulfed in intense heat, but he realized
that it was only himself burning and sweating. Sam's body was cool, maybe
warmer by a single degree, but he did not sweat.
Rory wasn't sure when Sam sped up more, and he wasn't sure when Sam started to
thrust harder, or even how long it was all going on, but he could feel every
single wave surge throughout himself as his prostate was relentlessly slammed,
over and over. His hands continued to explore, one of them fighting Sam's hand
for control over his own cock. Sam won out, grinning.
"Squeeze my ass. Pull me inside of you. Let your fingers touch me," the vampire
urged, craving some attention to his own rear.
The teen did as he was encouraged, gripping the man's tight cheeks, squeezing
with all of his might. He could feel his fingernails scratching against him as
he spread the globes, inching his fingers toward the man's own entrance. It was
all he could do to reach with the vampire thrusting so vigorously, but he
finally found his target and gently teased the pulsating pucker.
Sam could already feel himself getting close, something that was a little out
of character for him. He could normally go for long periods of time, hours
even, but something about this particular time brought him so much closer so
much faster. He could sense the rhythms in Rory's body as well—he too was
close.
"Bite me, Sam," Rory said as Sam continued to thrust into him. "Please, I want
to feel it."
"No, no you don't. You're lost in your enjoyment and you don't know what you're
asking. Just take this how it is right now. You're so close," Sam replied,
hoping the boy would drop it. No such luck, however, as Rory turned his head so
that his neck was right there in Sam's face, his veins throbbing strongly under
the tender flesh.
"Please, do it. Do it and we'll finish t'gether," Rory insisted. He had no idea
where these primal desires were coming from, but at that moment he wanted
nothing more than for Sam to completely take him, which included being bitten.
Sam couldn't take it anymore-the throbbing vein in the boy's neck, the
insistent begging, the growing fire in their groins. He leaned his head down,
pressed his fangs against his boyfriend's neck, and bit into the tender flesh.
Rory cried out in pain, but instead of a sensation that destroyed his arousal,
it only heightened it. He felt himself completely fall apart beneath Sam,
feeling his seed spreading between their bodies as Sam continued to thrust deep
into him, while also drinking the life force that the teen knew the vampire
coveted so much.
Sam's climax overtook him as he began to imbibe the ruby-colored substance from
the boy's neck, finishing up with several powerful thrusts that left his cum
deep inside of his lover.
As their orgasms subsided, Sam slid out of him and Rory's body returned to a
tensed state. Sam had finished feeding on him, leaning back on his haunches,
blood dripping from his mouth. Rory reached up and pulled him down on top of
him, kissing him, tasting his own blood on the vampire's roving tongue.
When he broke the kiss, Sam cut his own wrist with his fangs and rubbed the
blood over the wounds he had caused, forcing them to heal instantly. Finally,
he collapsed next to the boy, both of them panting, and sated. The vampire
could feel the slickness of Rory's sweat and seed between both of their bodies,
the burning of the boy's blood finally beginning to subside.
After a few minutes of afterglow, Sam sat up on his elbows and looked over at
Rory. "I didn't drink much, I promise. You'll be fine in a day, max," he said.
"That's okay. I like orange juice, lots o' orange juice. That should perk me
right up," he replied with a smile. "So, how did I taste?"
Sam smirked. "Like liquid gold. The most amazing taste I have ever experienced.
I feel something I never felt before. Your blood must be special, more special
than anyone else's."
"I bet ye' tell that to all the boys," the teen joked.
"No, just you. I mean, I feel… stronger somehow," Sam replied. Rory didn't
respond except for a contented sigh. "Are you okay with everything we did?" the
vampire asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Yes. Yes, I really am. I loved it. E'ery bit o' it. I want it again, and
again," Rory admitted.
Sam smiled at him. "Good. I'm happy to hear you say that. It was amazing for
me, too. It'll be all I can do to not ravage you every chance I get now."
"Who says ye' can't?" Rory asked playfully.
Sam chuckled. "Nature. If I drink too much of you, too fast, it can seriously
hurt or even kill you. What I drank of you tonight was more than enough for a
week. Your body needs to recover, and it can't do that if it isn't given enough
time."
The teen nodded, a little disappointed. "That doesn't mean we can't make love,
though. It just means I can't bite you every time," Sam explained.
"I can live with that," Rory replied. "I feel so tired now, more than before.
Me entire body aches, every inch inside and out."
"Yeah, you'll be a little sore. You took a lot for a first time. You took me
for almost an hour, and you don't even know it. Most guys barely last a few
minutes their first time. You will definitely be tired, and you definitely are
going to ache for a while. And even feel weak.. Loss of blood. That's why it's
important to get your rest, drink lots of orange juice, and take some vitamin
B. It helps with your blood count. I'll get you some and you should start
taking it every day from now on."
"Okay. I un'erstand. Juice, vitamins, and rest." Suddenly the teenager began to
giggle. Sam looked at him, confused. "Sorry! I just thought… if only Kurt and
Mercedes knew what we did! They would 'ave the biggest fit!" He then saw Sam's
face begin to shift from concern to fear. "Oh I don't plan on telling them! I
didn't mean that, I promise."
Deciding to only reply with a gentle smile, Sam rolled over and pulled Rory
into him so they were hugging, their sides against the bed. They continued to
cuddle for several minutes before they realized what time it was: close to
dawn. They were covered in blood, sweat, and semen, and could benefit not only
from a shower but change of bed sheets as well. After that, Sam needed to 'go
to ground' for the day.
"Sam, can I see ye'r… where ye' sleep?"
Sam bit his bottom lip nervously. He had never shown anyone where he slept
before—it was one of the biggest taboos in vampire culture to show a human
where he slept, but this was Rory. His boyfriend. Someone he loved, and
trusted. Besides, Rory could technically be classified as a supernatural being
due to his special abilities. They weren't anything a normal human could do.
"Yes. But never tell anyone else, ever. A vampire is in his most vulnerable
state when he's asleep. It's a very deep sleep, deeper than humans ever know.
We're sound sleepers. Noise doesn't wake us the way it would a human. That's
why it's so dangerous for people to know where we rest," Sam explained.
"Oh…" Rory said softly. "Well, ye' don't 'ave t'show me."
The vampire smiled and stood up, taking the teen by the hand. They shared a
quick shower, washing blood and cum away from their bodies. Once they were dry,
Rory put on a pair of pajama pants, Sam opting for simple boxer briefs.
"I want you to tuck me in tonight, Rory," Sam said with a grin. He grabbed the
teen's hand and led him downstairs. They turned a corner and Sam opened the
closet door under the stairwell. Inside it was empty.
"Ye' sleep in a closet?"
Without saying a word, Sam let go of Rory's hand and crouched down on the
floor. He ran his hand over the floorboards, feeling for a tiny notch. Finding
it, he dug his finger underneath and pulled up, revealing a hidden staircase.
"Come on, down here. Watch your step," Sam instructed. When he got to the
bottom, he flipped a switch and an overhead light came on, bathing the room in
a soft glow. It was a basement, empty except for one thing in the middle.
"It's… is it a coffin?" Rory asked nervously. "Ye' sleep in a coffin?"
Sam chuckled. "Well sort of. It's a light-tight bed, made especially for
vampires. It's cushioned all inside like a coffin, and there're no holes of any
kind. No possible way for light to come in."
"No air holes?" the human asked. After a moment the realization hit him. "No,
there wouldn't be. Ye' don't 'ave to breathe," he stated. "Then why…?"
"Why was I panting as much as you were? It's hard to explain. A body has
certain rhythms it follows, autonomous actions that go on without you ever
knowing it's happening. Things that you could control if you wanted to, but
ninety-nine percent of the time, your body is in control. Breathing is one of
those things. I don't have to have air to live, but my body continues to
'breathe'."
Rory stared down at the coffin-like bed, mesmerized. "Can I lay in it a moment?
Just a moment, to see if it's comfortable enough for ye'? Ye' 'ave to be
comfortable or else I want ye' to get a new one."
Sam smiled. "Just for a second. I don't want you turning blue in there." He
guided Rory to the edge of the box and motioned for him to get inside. The boy
stepped into the cushioned bed, sat down and then laid back. He nodded at his
boyfriend, who carefully closed the lid.
Lying in a coffin was a surreal experience. It was dark, so dark that his eyes
couldn't even adjust to it. It was like he was seeing the same thing he saw in
Sam's head when he touched him. A void. The air was already thinning, and the
entire thing felt like it was starting to close in around him, as if it were
getting smaller, or he bigger. He reached up with his hands and felt only the
soft fabric a few inches above him. He began to feel panic rise in his body,
his heart pounding. He started to slam his fists into the lid, demanding exit.
His vision was suddenly flooded with light as the lid of the coffin was raised,
fresh air rushing back into his lungs. Rory quickly got up and out of the bed
and backed away. "There's no way I could sleep in there!" he exclaimed.
Sam laughed, taking the teen's hands in his. "I imagine you couldn't. It takes
getting used to. Trust me, it beats dark, dank caves and under the floorboards
of a house. It's not meant for you, though."
"There's nothing else ye' can sleep in? Something bigger? The size of a regular
bed, or why not just seal off the room from light and sleep like ye' do
upstairs?" Rory questioned.
The vampire thought a moment. It wasn't easy to explain the culture of
vampires, or the idiosyncrasies. Some of it still didn't even make sense to
him, let alone to humans. "It's time for me to go to sleep now. You could use
some rest, too."
Rory was disappointed Sam didn't answer his question, but he didn't need to
read a memory or thoughts to understand what the vampire's lack of response
meant: Sam had no idea why he chose to adhere to the typical vampire sleeping
arrangement.
The pair hugged, kissed and held each other. Sam stepped into the coffin, sat
down, and then lay back. Rory stood over him, knowing he was expected to close
the lid, and bade him goodnight, but when his hands touched the lid, he quickly
snatched them back.
"I can't do it!" the teen cried. "It looks too much like ye'r dead, like I'm
burying ye'! I can't!" He fell to his knees, holding his head in confusion. "I
know it's okay, but I just can't. It's the mental picture."
Sam reached out and grabbed Rory's hand. "It's okay. I'll wait for you to go
back upstairs. On your way out, flip the switch for me, and when you reach the
top, slid the boards back into place and close the door. Then go upstairs to
the bed and go to sleep."
Rory nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. It's just... to me, ye'r not dead. Ye'r as alive
as I am, and closing ye' up in that coffin…"
"Don't apologize. Just give me one more kiss goodnight," Sam said, smiling.
Rory leaned over and kissed him. "I love you, Rory. I'll see you when the sun
goes down."
"I love ye' too, Sam. Night doesn't come fast enough for me anymore."
"By the way, your hands were hot when you came out of the coffin. We need to
look into that, and soon," Sam added as an afterthought. Rory didn't say
anything; he simply walked to the switch, turned it off and ascended the
stairs. He heard the faint sound of the lid closing down just as he slid the
boards back into place. He closed the closet door and went back to the bedroom.
He lay awake for almost half an hour, thinking. There has to be a way he can
sleep outside of that coffin. Maybe we could even sleep together. Why can't we
just put a bed down there, seal off the room from light? He kind of dodged the
question. I want to wake up next to him though. I want to be held while I fall
asleep. There has to be a way.
He finally fell asleep, not waking up until the next afternoon, an hour before
his shift began at the Lima Bean.
-ooo-
Sam sat in his small cave, lighting a fire with some kindling and stones since
he had no matches or other method of starting a flame. It wasn't so much the
warmth he needed but the light, and the familiarity. The vampire who turned him
had left him on his own, having grown tired of his new progeny after Sam
refused to continue with his disgusting ways of rape and murder upon witnessing
those very things happening to a child no older than his own brother. When a
new man, handsome and alluring, had come along, he had utterly captivated the
maker's attentions and urged an uttering of some nonsensical phrase that
apparently released Sam of any bonds he and his maker had. He left not long
after with the handsome man and was never heard from again. Most likely he went
to another country as the attractive man had a thick French accent.
Even after ten years, the transition into vampiredom was still difficult. Sam
yearned to see his family again, just to know they were at least safe, but he
had been forbidden. At least he had been forbidden under his maker's command,
but released he was now able to do what he pleased. However, Sam couldn't bear
to cause his family the pain of seeing him like this, so he hid in the woods at
nightfall and waited for them to go inside from their busy day of farming. He
crept up to the window of the kitchen and looked inside, keeping himself out of
sight.
It was 1870 and his younger siblings had grown immensely since the last time
Sam had seen them—the day he died. Steven had a growth spurt and had grown his
hair into a shaggy blonde style. Sam could see his strong arms flexing in his
shirt, proof that the boy had taken up his older brother's role in the fields.
Stacy was a beautiful young lady, her hair longer than her mother's and pulled
back in a loose plait. She had a certain glow about her face, something he
recalled from her childhood. Stacy had always been pretty, and always had a
personality filled with cheerfulness and purity. It was something he would
learn over the years that most people lacked.
Sam's mother had aged, but still looked like a fine woman. He could see that
time and work were getting to her as she moved slower than he remembered, and
she seemed tired, moreso than she ever had in her younger years. She would be
in her forties, which for that time period was getting quite close to 'old
age'.
Mr. Evans hadn't changed much. Still a burly man with a short beard, and large,
muscled arms. He led the family in prayer before dinner began, something that
recently Sam had tried to get back into doing. However, it was hard to continue
believing in the Lord when he felt so forsaken in his situation.
The vampire watched them going through the motions of dinner, chatting happily,
eating their mother's excellent food. Curiosity was still in him and he watched
a while longer to see what they did during their spare time. Stacy sat in a
chair, working on sewing a dress, while Mrs. Evans worked on a shirt for her
son. Mr. Evans sat at a table with a knife and block of wood, carving something
into it—a bird it looked like. It was only partially finished, but the man
seemed to be focused deeply on his project. Steven sat on the floor with a book
of paper, writing. Sam assumed it must be a journal of some kind.
When he couldn't take it anymore, he slipped away back into the woods and off
to his cave. His face was stained red with the bloody tears. His maker had left
him and thrown him out of the small home they had taken, leaving him with
nothing. Sam sought out his cave from when he was turned, some place he had
identified as familiar and comforting at the time. He was all alone, and he
couldn't even see his family. Knowing that they were safe and happy was enough,
and he vowed to himself he wouldn't peek in on them again, for his own sanity.
-ooo-
As soon as Tina picked Rory up that afternoon, she began asking questions about
the murders. Word traveled fast in Lima, especially about another murder. Well,
two more murders, plus a pet. Despite her onslaught of questions, Rory wasn't
annoyed in the least. Instead he told her what he and Sam had agreed to tell
others, and she was satisfied. It was the same exact stories that Sam had fed
in his glamours regarding Rory's living situation.
The moment he walked into the Lima Bean, he was assaulted with more questions
from both Kurt and Mercedes, the pair practically drowning him in hugs of
relief. He rehashed his story once again, Kurt turning paler than normal as if
he were going to faint. Mercedes was whispering prayers as she listened to him.
He waited for admonishments from both of them, somehow blaming the situation on
vampires, but after his description of the bodies, the massive amounts of
blood, and the help from Sam, neither one of his friends said a word against
Sam or vampires in general. Rory hoped it was a step in the right direction,
that perhaps they were finally going to see that vampires weren't responsible
for every bad thing in the world, and that some of them were actually good
people.
Rory expected a summons from Mike, but oddly enough aside from a friendly hug
and telling him how happy he was that Rory was safe, Mike said little else
about the incident. He offered Rory the night off—something that was happening
far too often as of late—but the teen refused, insisting that he needed the
money, and he needed to do something to get his mind off of things. The idea of
being alone inside the house didn't settle too well with him either. Sure, Sam
was right downstairs, but he was also stowed away in his coffin. That didn't
exactly make for good company. Besides, being around his friends made him feel
safer in Sam's absence.
Later on, during a lull in the business of the evening, Kurt approached Rory as
he was taking a short break, sipping on a glass of orange juice. "What was it
that you did to me the other night? The heat and the flashing and all that.
What was it?"
The teen shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. Kurt eyed him skeptically.
"Honest. I don't know. It just happened that one time and I don't know what
triggered it," he went on. It was a tiny fib, but he didn't care to explain
about the mentally-fried boys he had tried to read, nor the exciting flight
across the room when his hands fired up. "I really am sorry, Kurt. I didn't
mean to do that. I can't control it. Ye' know I would ne'er hurt ye' on
purpose."
"I forgive you. You do owe me a pair of pants though," Kurt replied, not
particularly joking. "I asked Blaine about it, the hot flash. If it was some
sort of magic," the barista added. Blaine, his boyfriend, happened to be
Wiccan, and was also well versed in magical lore. "He said it wasn't anything
he had heard of before. He's supposed to be consulting his Wiccan coven. The
leader has a lot of old books filled with magical history and stuff."
"This isn't Harry Potter. I don't think I'm a wizard, so it has t'be related to
me memory reading somehow. I just wish I knew how exactly. I wish I knew how
t'control it. It made me really weak after it happened. E'en when I finally
woke back up at Sam's I was still exhausted," Rory explained, finishing off his
glass of juice and pouring another one.
Kurt raised an eyebrow, noting his choice of beverage. "How much of that have
you drank tonight? I've never seen you drink so much orange juice since I've
known you."
The teen shrugged, hoping Kurt would drop it. A customer came through the door,
stepping up to the counter. Kurt turned to assist him, but as he walked away,
he made one last comment, raising his eyebrows high in a sarcastic glare.
"Orange juice is really good at restoring your blood levels when you've lost a
lot. You look a little pale. Just coincidence, I'm sure. There's no reason for
you to be losing any blood, right?"
Rory just stared after Kurt as the older teen made it to the counter and began
to interact with the customer. Kurt had a way of knowing things sometimes,
picking up on the littlest clues. He began to wonder if Kurt had put pieces
together and figured out that Sam had indeed drank some of his blood. What Kurt
didn't need to know, however, was the situation in which it had occurred. It
was none of his business. Besides, Rory didn't want to share the tale of his
and Sam's love-making session and the infinitely more intense pleasure he had
the moment he was bitten.
He grinned to himself as he remembered the previous night's activities. Sam had
the perfect body. Everything about him was arousing. He didn't want to share
that information with anyone. It was for his eyes only. Kurt definitely was not
deserving of hearing the story—there was no possible way he could appreciate
the magnitude of what had happened, and even if he could, Kurt was stuffy and
prudish about anything sexual. Every time Kurt turned his nose up at a dirty
joke or comment, Rory had to feel sorry for Blaine, wondering just how deprived
he must be in the physical arena.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice as the mysterious Rachel Berry entered
the establishment, heading right for Mike's office without waiting to be
invited. It was strange, however, because he had surely heard the almost eerie
singing carried through the door by the night breeze when she came in.
-ooo-
Rory was busy cleaning tables when Mercedes quietly got his attention with a
quick 'psst!' He looked up to see who it was, saw her wave him over, and joined
the small group, which consisted of her, Kurt, and Tina.
"So spill. What's the big deal with this Rachel chick?" Mercedes asked, looking
past Tina, keeping an eye out for Mike or Rachel exiting his office.
'What do you mean? She just wants to promote the restaurant with music. I think
it's a wonderful idea," Tina replied cheerfully. "You make it sound like it's
sinister or something."
Mercedes laughed. "No, just what's with all the secrecy? I'd think Mike would
want us all involved, don't you?"
"Yeah, after all, we are the McKinley Show Choir National Champions," Kurt
added proudly, puffing out his chest.
Tina scratched her head. "Maybe he just never thought about it. Rachel seems
pretty set on doing a solo act, but if it hits off, maybe he will get the glee
club involved." She looked around at her two older friends. "Well, the alumni
and the current members that is." A good portion of the club members had
graduated and were no longer part of the group. Rory and Tina were two of the
remaining members for the coming year, determined to see a second victory as
champions.
"What do you think, Rory? Wouldn't it be great if we got the chance to perform
here?" Mercedes asked him. He seemed distracted from them and she was trying to
draw him back into the conversation.
"Huh? Oh, oh yeah, that'd be great," Rory said. "Hey, uh, I'll be right back. I
need to use the restroom." With that, he ambled off toward the bathroom, which
was right across from the office and next to the employee lounge.
"What's with him? He seemed kind of out of it," Kurt asked absentmindedly.
Mercedes hit him in the stomach with the back of her hand, rolling her eyes.
"Hello? Murder in his house? Death and dismemberment? Of course he's 'out of
it'," she reminded him.
"Somehow I don't think that's it. Anyone else notice how much OJ he's been
drinking? An entire gallon since he got here. No joke. One glass after the
other," Kurt pointed out. "You should have seen the look on his face when I
mentioned how effective orange juice is in helping restore blood count."
"Don't jump to conclusions, Kurt," Tina scolded quietly. "He's been through a
lot. I bet he's just drinking so much of it because all that vitamin C helps
perk you up if you feel like you're dragging."
"If you saw that look you wouldn't say that. It was the look of 'uh oh, I'm
busted'," Kurt replied sharply. "I think that thing he calls his boyfriend
tried to get a little sip of him and he's exhausted from it."
Tina scowled at him. "Don't be such a child. Calling him a thing. He's a
person, Kurt."
"Yeah, an undead-American," Mercedes quipped. "Face it, Tina. It will be a cold
day in Hell before you get me or Kurt on the vampire coalition. We're just
worried about our friend, and you should be too."
"I am worried about him, but not because he's dating a vampire. If anything,
that makes me feel better. Vampires have incredible strength. Sam could easily
protect him from just about anything I would think. I'm just worried about this
new ability he seems to have acquired and his poor sleeping schedule," the
assistant manager stated. "I think you both need to get your heads out of your
asses and give the man a chance. If he wanted Rory dead, he would have done it
already. Twice just to make sure he killed him. He's had ample opportunity, and
not so much as a scratch on our boy's head!" With that, she marched off toward
the register, ready to focus her mind elsewhere.
"Good thing she has so much faith in that vampire, because I sure don't," Kurt
remarked coldly.
Mercedes frowned at him, unsure of how she should respond. "I don't like him,
Kurt, but Tina has a good point. He's strong enough to keep Rory safe from…
whatever is out there, and if he did want to kill him, he would have done it by
now. I just can't help but think Rory being involved with vampires isn't a good
idea. They're trouble."
-ooo-
In the hall, Rory paused at the bathroom door. He could hear Rachel and Mike's
conversation through the office door. He crept closer, trying not to make any
noise.
"I think we could get the whole town in here eventually," he heard Rachel state
excitedly.
"Maybe. It'd be great for business. So how far along are the preparations?"
Mike asked next. There were a few moments of silence before Rachel answered.
"Oh just about finished. I have everything coming together for opening night
next weekend. I already distributed the fliers you made for me all over town.
You did such a great job on those! You won't need to worry about a thing,
Mike," she replied. Her voice almost sounded… seductive. "Should we go over the
set list again?"
Rory listened for a couple more minutes as they went back and forth over minute
details. It seemed off to him that they were just now discussing these things
when she had already spent a couple hours in there with him over the course of
her visits. To him, that sounded like stuff Rachel should have said right away.
Then again, what did he know about that sort of thing?
Shrugging his shoulders, he went on to the restroom. After he was finished and
washing his hands, he stared up at himself in the mirror. He looked tired. His
eyes were dark, way too relaxed, and a duller blue than usual. His skin was a
little more on the pale side than usual as well. He made a mental note to ask
Sam if this was normal for someone who had just been drained of a decent amount
of blood. Just how much of me blood did he drink?
When he returned to the dining room, he saw Sam standing with his three
friends. He became nervous, wondering what they were talking about. He still
didn't trust that Kurt or Mercedes would be nice to Sam on his own. He was
pleasantly surprised, however, when he joined them and heard nothing but
questions about the murders—questions that were not accusing him of it.
Sam put his arm around his boyfriend, kissing him on the cheek. "Ah, there you
are. Your friends were just asking me about the incident last night."
"We weren't accusing him of anything if that's what you're worried about,"
Mercedes quickly interjected. "We just thought that he might be a little more
comfortable talking about it."
Sam smiled kindly at her. "I was just telling them how brave you were, keeping
calm during the entire time and doing what you could to help."
"I just… I don't know. I just reacted. I was kind o' on autopilot the whole
time. I don't think it really hit me until later," Rory said, looking past
everyone. He wasn't particularly lying, he was just leaving out a lot of
details. He wasn't fibbing any more than Mercedes and Kurt were lying with
their friendly façade.
Tina placed her hand on Sam's arm, grabbing his attention. "I'm glad
you're both safe. I know vampires are particularly safe against most things,
but still, I'm relieved."
"Thank you, Tina. We are indeed safe from most kinds of attack, however there
are some things even we can't stand up against. I'll let your knowledge of the
lore lead you on that one, however," Sam replied.
"Can I ask you a favor tonight, Sam? Can you get Rory to bed earlier? He really
needs some rest; you can see it in his eyes. After such a traumatic night, he
could use it. I know night is the only time you really have to spend together,
but he really needs the rest," the woman asked. She turned her attention from
Sam to Rory. "I'm worried about your health lately. All these late nights out,
these things going on. There has to be a way to balance out your time so you
can see each other as much as you can, and still get the rest you both need."
She threw her arms around her younger friend in a tight hug.
"I'll see to it he gets a much better rest tonight. Perhaps we can discuss time
management tomorrow, though. I share your concern for him, believe me," the
vampire replied politely.
"Thanks, Sam. I knew you'd understand," she replied. Satisfied, Tina excused
herself to tend to a table of customers who had just come in. Mercedes and Kurt
trotted off to their own duties, leaving the couple to themselves.
"She has a good point, you know," the blonde said casually.
"I know. We'll figure something out. Do I look that bad though?"
Sam smiled and brushed the teen's cheek with the back of his hand. "You look
paler than usual, and your eyes are definitely tired. Have you been drinking
orange juice today?"
"Yep. I lost count how many glasses since I got t'work. I'm not sure if I've
spent more time peein' or workin'." The teen joked. He wasn't aware that Kurt
had kept track and that he owed the Lima Bean for an entire gallon and a half
of juice.
"Good, it will help get your count back up quicker. I also stopped by the store
and picked up some vitamins for you to take. Those'll help as well. Take them
every day though," Sam informed him.
Rory dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, but Sam pushed his hand
back. "Save your money. I insist. You wouldn't need these if it wasn't for me,
so it's only fair," he noted. "And I like spoiling you a little. The smile you
give me when you're happy warms my heart."
Rory's face flushed. "That can happen t'ye'? Ye'r heart actually get warm?"
Sam chuckled. "It's a figure of speech. It means that seeing you smile makes me
very happy." Rory grinned, his face still flushed. "I thought tonight before we
go home, we could stop at the grocery store and you can pick out some
groceries. You'll need to eat and I obviously don't have much, and I have a
feeling you'd be better off picking out your own food."
"Okay. But I only need a little bit. I don't want a lot," Rory said.
"We'll just see what we find for you. You'll need toiletries too since we
didn't take any from the house. I'll get whatever you need."
"Thank ye', Sam. I appreciate e'erything you're doing for me. Nobody e'er
treated me so well before," the teen admitted.
"It's my pleasure," the vampire replied, sneaking a quick kiss. "I'll let you
finish your shift and come back for you when you get off. I have an errand to
run, vampire business. Sebastian wants to know what's going on."
"Okay. I'll see ye' soon," Rory replied. He smiled as Sam turned to leave. "I
love ye', Sam."
"I love you too, Rory. See you in a little while."
When Rory turned around to head for the bar for yet another glass of juice, he
caught Tina's eye just long enough for her to wink at him and mouth, "I told
you so," having heard them exchange the words she knew were coming.
-ooo-
Sam sighed in frustration as he returned home to pick up the car, so he could
take Rory to the store after work. Sebastian had just sent him a message on his
phone.
I want to see you and the boy. Tonight. Important.
Sebastian's idea of important could range from completely ridiculous to
legitimately dire. What sucked was the fact that either way, Sam was honor-
bound to adhere to his request. He quickly replied that they would be there at
ten, and also that it needed to be a quick visit.
Don't be smart with me. Ten and no later.
Sam rolled his eyes. He really wanted to just take Rory home after they stopped
at the store and spend the evening together watching TV or a movie until Rory
was ready for sleep. He needed it, badly. Between the mysterious light shows
the teen seemed to be putting off, the trauma of the murders, and the aftermath
of sex and being fed on all within a couple of days, it would surely put a
strain on a human body.
The vampire noticed as he walked through the woods that there was a sound
wafting through the trees. It was barely audible, but it was beautiful. It was…
singing. A woman's voice was singing somewhere close enough to be heard but too
far away to be seen. It was enchanting, but at the same time, left a strange
sensation in his head. Something akin to a headache.
-ooo-
Rachel finally left a little before eight-thirty, leaving the staff with kind
smiles as she hummed a tune that was unfamiliar to all of them. As soon as she
was gone, Mike came into the dining room and called the small group to order.
"This will be quick. I just wanted to clue you all in on what's going on since
I haven't really given you an update," he announced as Tina, Mercedes, Kurt and
Rory gathered by him. "We're going to do a live performance, of course, with
Rachel Berry as the star performer. We're going to see how this works out for
the shop, and if it looks like a money maker, we'll make it a regular thing."
"It's not all going to be about her though, is it, Mike?" Mercedes asked.
"Don't forget you have a staff of talented performers right here, too."
"Don't worry, if this works out, everyone who wants to perform will be given a
chance," Mike replied. Mercedes seemed pacified with his response because she
simply grinned and let him continue. "I'm gonna need you guys in top condition
this weekend though. Rachel will be doing the first show Saturday night, and I
hope it gets real busy. If dad sees more dollar signs coming in, he'll let me
hire at least one other server. The busier we get, the more he'll let me hire.
Another cook would be nice too."
Kurt shot him a glare at the mention of another cook. "Hold on, I didn't say
a new one, just another one. So you have some help," Mike covered quickly. Kurt
was incredibly sensitive about his ability to make their food products as well
as mix the specialty drinks, even if that task was Mercedes' forte'.
Mike went on to explain some more of the details, particularly Rachel's
background in music as well as what she was trying to accomplish. Her goal was
to be able to create the most extravagant hangout for teenagers and young
adults in all of Lima, through the use of live music and performances. She was
hoping that if this plan worked, Mike Chang Sr. would want a partnership and
she could urge him into expanding the venture into something much bigger. On
paper it sounded like a great idea, but only time would tell if it was going to
work out or not. This weekend would be the first test—to see if live music
would be a big enough draw to the local community.
-ooo-
Rachel Berry strolled out of the Lima Bean, humming a tune that was long
familiar to her, but unheard of to anyone else she had ever met in the modern
world. It was an ancient song, the words in a language no longer spoken. In
fact, it was such an old language it didn't even have a name at all. She had
learned it from her parents many centuries ago, and it stuck with her like a
comfort blanket.
The ancient woman snapped her fingers as an oversized Navigator pulled into the
parking lot. The back door swung open, inviting her inside. With a smug smile
on her face, she stepped into the vehicle and then pulled the door closed.
"Everything still running smoothly?" the driver asked, turning to look at her.
"Oh yes. I can tell my quarry is near. My visions were never clear on exactly
who it is, but there is enough to know it is here in this city. This concert
will be the perfect way to begin weeding out the garbage," Rachel answered
sweetly. "Hopefully it won't take too awfully long to find the thing. This town
is boring, the people are boring, everything is boring. Even the victims in my
visions here are boring. That dark skinned boy had no personality and was far
too easy to destroy, and the boy with the dreadlocks… he smelled like… grease."
She wrinkled her nose as she spoke of Joseph Hart's hair. "And nevermind the
fact that this sickly sweet Broadway-destined-schoolgirl routine is incredibly
annoying. I should have really come up with something better." The driver gave
a goofy grin, revealing sharp fang-like teeth under his lips. "Come on, Arthur,
take me home. I need my rest," she ordered.
The man in the driver's seat nodded and put the car into gear, pulling out and
then onto the main road.
"Don't forget, Arthur, that if everything works according to the plan, I can
have you walking on your own feet again by the end of the year. I know how sick
you are of that confining chair and your 'gadgets'," Rachel added.
"I make do. The accident can't hold me back forever," Artie replied, reaching
up with one hand to adjust his glasses. He had been waiting a very long time to
return to his feet, to walk with the rest of the world again. The accident had
left him paralyzed over five centuries ago, leaving him no choice but to serve
the woman who took him in. In truth she had 'adopted' him purely for his skills
with technology—both modern and archaic—but she had seemingly grown to actually
enjoy his company. The saddest part of the entire situation was that Arthur
knew there was no hope for him to ever walk again, no matter what power Rachel
obtained. All he could do was keep an eye on her. For now.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 7: Answers *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: Again I hope you all are enjoying the story. Please
     leave reviews; it caters to my much-deflated ego. ;) Again let me
     take time out to thank TVTime for his meticulous beta work on this
     story. I think I may have worn him out after 12 chapters that he
     betaed twice each. :p
      
     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 7: Answers
Sam and Rory stood before Sebastian and Santana in Sebastian's office at
Scandals. The sheriff had insisted that they be in a more private location for
their discussion, and out front near the throne was too public.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that awful experience, Rory," Sebastian said
smoothly. "I imagine it must be traumatizing for someone not used to seeing
such things."
"Thank ye'," Rory said flatly. He still had no trust in Sebastian, and after
their last encounter, he was even less fond of him. Sure, he had wanted to test
his ability, but he also had no desire to hurt anyone, including himself.
Sebastian had pressured him to do just that.
"I'm also sorry about what happened during your last visit. It was surely not
my intention for you to become hurt that way," the sheriff continued. Sam
glared at him, eliciting the corner of Sebastian's mouth to turn up.
Santana stood behind Sebastian, looking from Sam to Rory and back, simply
observing them with a blank look on her face. She tired of the games Sebastian
was playing with the blonde and his human toy. She had better things to do than
sit in on their little meeting, but her maker insisted she be present.
"How is the boy? Eric? What about the others?" Rory inquired, afraid of what
Sebastian's answer might be.
"They were left in the care of a local sanitarium," the sheriff stated. "I
assure you, they are safe and well taken care of. As you know, we do not feed
on humans here at Scandals."
"Nice to know ye' don't feed on humans. It gives me the tiniest reason to trust
ye' I suppose." Rory offered a very slight smile, just enough to show Sebastian
that he was being honest. "I wish I could 'ave helped them though. I hate to
think they 'ave to spend the rest o' their lives locked away."
Sam put his hand on the boy's shoulder, squeezing gentle. "Maybe you will
develop your power enough to help them someday. There's always possibilities.
For now at least they're safe." He then turned his attention to the sheriff.
"You had a reason to call us here, didn't you?" Sam asked, his entire demeanor
shifting into one of annoyance. "I told you, we need to keep this short
tonight. He's still recovering."
"He wouldn't need to recover if you just offered him a little of your blood,"
Sebastian teased. "Unless he would rather have mine," he added, grinning at
Rory. "I don't make that offer to just anyone, either. I'm told it's sweeter
than any nectar known to man."
Rory wasted no time in refusing the offer. "The only blood I'll e'er drink is
Sam's, and I'm pretty sure ye'rs tastes like rot and death." I try to give him
the littlest bit of credit and he ruins it in less than five minutes! I wonder
if he was this much of a jerk as a human. Rory swallowed back a laugh, forcing
himself to remain serious.
Santana scoffed and looked away, rolling her eyes. Rory glared at her, his
failed attempt at looking fearsome simply amusing the vampiress. She had to
admit, the human had balls to address a vampire sheriff so rudely.
"Samuel, you're going to have to do a much better job training your pet,"
Sebastian stated, addressing his subject with cold eyes. He quickly shifted
back into his trademark smirk as he returned to speaking directly to Rory.
"Suit yourself, but I assure you, one taste and you would be begging for more.
Besides, I'm much older, so my blood is far more powerful than that child
you're so attached to. Keep that in mind," the sheriff replied. He cleared his
throat and then turned serious. "I called the two of you here for a couple of
reasons. Both of them will be of interest to you, I promise."
Sam sighed, irritated. "So go on, skip the suspense and tell us what you need
us to know." He knew his pointed comments were likely to get him into trouble,
but he had promised Tina to have the teen in bed earlier, and it was something
he intended to do for the boy's own health.
"Well, first of all, your lackluster inspection of the crime site is an
embarrassment," Sebastian stated arrogantly, tossing his hand aside flippantly.
"Of course I followed up myself. There really wasn't much to find; however, I
did take the time to do a little research after looking at their mangled
corpses."
"Do you have to talk about them like that? They meant something to Rory. Show a
little respect," Sam snapped. Rory reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing.
Sam looked over at him, seeing the boy's urging stare to let it go.
Sebastian frowned at the outburst and continued his speech. "As I was saying
before I was so rudely interrupted by nobody of import, I did a little research
myself. There's a couple of possibilities for what could be committing these
murders, neither of them easy to deal with."
"What are they?" Rory asked enthusiastically. He was willing to listen to any
kind of answers that Sebastian may have, even if he was a pompous ass.
"What interested me was the way the bones were shattered. They looked to be
shattered from the inside out, something that could only be accomplished by
certain kinds of vibration. Vibration most likely created with sound waves."
The teen and the younger vampire exchanged confused glances. "Sound waves?
Sound waves did this?" Sam asked. "I thought that was just comic book stuff!
You know, nothing actually real!"
"Yes. I believe it was indeed sound waves," the older vampire replied, rolling
his eyes at Sam's comic book reference. "Two potential culprits would be either
a siren, or a banshee. Both of them are known for ultrasonic abilities. Sirens
tend to be less on the blood and gore, usually preferring to use their songs to
drag men to their deaths below the waves. Banshees are harbingers of death and
are more on the violent side."
"Can I take a moment to point out that banshees are also an Irish native? And
don't we have an Irish human in the room?" Santana mocked with a sarcastic
grin. "Quit glaring, Sam. I don't mean he did it. But I think he's the reason
the banshee is here."
Rory looked horrified. "Why would it come here, for me? I'm not anyone special!
I'm just a student! What would a banshee want with me?" he cried out. "Unless
it's me turn to die…"
"Nonsense. Now, that's the other tidbit of information we uncovered," Sebastian
stated. "Based on the research, I believe that you, my attractive friend, may
have traces of leprechaun in your lineage."
"Are ye' for real? Leprechaun? They're just an Irish story! They don't exist!
They sit around making boots and shining shoes and granting wishes! It's all
hogwash!" Rory protested angrily. "I don't do any o' those things! I can't e'en
put a gel insert in me shoe by meself, let alone make a boot!"
Sebastian snickered. "Haven't you learned by now? The world is filled with so
many things you'll never understand, boy. Vampires, werewolves, they're only
the beginning. You didn't question the existence of a banshee or a siren, so
why question the existence of leprechauns? What keeps them from being any more
real than anything else?"
"I think you're full of shit, Sebastian. The banshee idea might be real, but
really, leprechaun blood? Isn't that a little much?" Sam snapped sarcastically.
"Try again."
"Believe me or not, it doesn't alter the fact that my suspicions are most
likely correct. After all, you display some of the traits," he said, addressing
Rory and ignoring Sam's insults.
"Traits, like what?" Rory demanded.
"Your little light shows? The mind reading? Just to name a couple of course,"
Sebastian answered calmly. "There's more, but you probably wouldn't be
interested, since leprechauns don't exist."
Rory sighed. "Just tell me, please. I want t'know." What if he's right? What if
I am some sort of leprechaun or fairy or something?
"Fine. According to my research, memories aren't the only thing you can steal
from people. Supposedly, you can absorb people's lives. Their energy, in other
words. You can steal it, store it, use it how you want. I'm guessing you
haven't done that one yet?"
The teen shook his head. "No. It sounds awful. Like a-" He stopped himself
before the words came out.
"Like a vampire?" Santana finished. "Instead of blood, you just drain energy.
Don't act like you're better than us now," she said cockily. "If anything,
you're much more dangerous than we could ever be. You can walk in the
daylight."
"Stop it, Santana. He's not a vampire. He hasn't taken anyone's life, so you're
wrong," Sam insisted, wrapping his arm around Rory's shoulders. "He just has a
gift. An ability. It doesn't make him a little green-clothed man."
Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You know better than that. Those myths are
exaggerated, just like the ones about us. However, like the myths about us,
there does exist some elements of truth. For example, leprechauns are shorter
and smaller than the rest of us, which you obviously aren't," he went on,
nodding toward Rory. "But I don't think you're full fledged either. I think you
might just be partial, like a crossbreed."
"Like a dog," Santana added with a sneer.
"Shut up, Santana," Sam hissed back. "So let's say this is true. So what? Part
leprechaun, part human, what difference does it make? What's it got to do with
this banshee you think is haunting the area?"
The sheriff shrugged. "That I don't know. Maybe if it kills the boy, it gains
his magic. Maybe it just wants to eat him because he will taste good over an
open fire. The crucial thing is that it's here, it's doing damage, and we're
taking the blame. It has to go. The sooner the better."
"Fine. So how do we kill it?" Sam asked, still agitated.
Sebastian shrugged. "No idea. All those books and websites and I couldn't find
an answer to that. According to lore, it's a ghoul of sorts, which means it may
very well not be corporeal. If that's the case, magic might be the only
solution. Magic that you most likely don't believe in, either. In the meantime,
trial and error I suppose. Find it, try to hack off its head. Drown it. Choke
it. Shoot it with a gun with wooden bullets laced with silver. Make a list and
see what works." At this point, he was getting agitated. He had done extensive
research for these two and neither one of them had so much as said 'thank you'.
Instead, they doubted him and even mocked him.
"That's helpful," Sam replied sarcastically. "I'll do whatever it takes to
protect Rory. From banshees, or whatever else might be out there. You find a
solution; I want to know. A real solution. I'm not seeking that thing out until
we can kill it so your Russian Roulette game is a no go. The sooner we can end
this, the better, because we have enough problems to worry about."
"You sure do like to make a lot of demands," Santana observed. "Especially for
a child. So much like a brat. I guess you'll never grow up."
Sam was about to respond to her, but Sebastian spoke first. "He makes valid
points, however. The sooner we end this invasion, the better. We do have enough
problems already. One less worry would be nice," Sebastian stated. He then gave
Sam his cold glare of disapproval. "I don't have anything else for you. If I
find out anything, I might just tell you."
Sam huffed as he took Rory's hand again and started to leave. "Oh, Sam?"
Sebastian called out, the young vampire and his boyfriend pausing and looking
back. "You're lucky I don't demand something in return. I'd love to have what's
yours, you know, but I have a little bit more class." He looked Rory over with
a hungry glance, not blood thirsty, but lustful.
"Don't e'er look at me like that again," Rory said coldly. Sebastian grinned as
he watched the two men leave the office.
"Feisty little fucker, isn't he?" Santana asked, sitting on the desk facing
Sebastian.
"Yes. I like it," her maker said, still grinning widely. "It'll make it all the
better when I finally get him to myself and own him. Mind, body, and soul. I'll
have him at my feet, begging to be ravaged for hours on end all the while Sam
is in silver shackles being forced to watch."
"Now you know I'm all for a little drama, but isn't that a bit much, even for
you?"
"Perhaps, but it's been a long time since I had something to amuse me. I just
want to give that smug child a little heartache for all that sass he keeps
giving out," the sheriff replied. "Come, Santana. Let's go to ground. But
first, a little time to ourselves, don't you think?"
The woman was already undressing, her long hair flowing around her, her eyes
filled with lust and hunger.
-ooo-
The couple was quiet all the way back to Sam's house, Rory staring out the
window, deep in thought. His hand lay at his side, Sam's fingers intertwined
with his own in a simple sign of comfort. It was all too much information to
process.
Back at home, they sat together on the couch, watching the news discussing the
latest murder. This time it was a young man named Trent Nixon. He was a member
of the Dalton Academy Warblers, one year older than Rory. The picture on the
television showed a boy with a slightly husky face, but he looked kind, as if
he wouldn't even harm a fly. It was sickening that someone like that would be
brutally murdered for no reason at all except for the sheer amusement of some
evil creature.
"Sam, do ye' think what Sebastian said was true? About… ye' know, the banshee
and the leprechauns?" the teen finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sam pulled him closer, tightening his arms around him. "I honestly don't know.
It would be a stupid thing for him to lie about. He has nothing to gain from
it. I guess the really important question is, as far as the leprechauns go,
do you believe him?"
Rory closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind. Sam didn't urge him any
further, sensing the tension in his body as he mulled over the facts in his
head. Finally, the teen spoke. "It kind o' makes sense I suppose. At least that
I'm not completely human, that there's somethin' else inside me. How else could
I explain me abilities? Especially the light and the heat?"
"True, though I don't really know how we would be able to find out for sure.
Unless we found another leprechaun. You're not totally leprechaun though. You
couldn't be. You have too many human qualities. And then there's the boot
making. I just don't see it happening."
Rory cracked a half smile at his boyfriend's kind attempt at humor. "Do ye'
think I'm the reason the banshee is here, killing people? Innocent people?
Because it's after me?" Rory asked, his breathing shallow, his heart pounding.
Sam refused to answer. In his heart, he believed that yes, it was here because
of the leprechaun/human hybrid that sat in his lap, trembling lightly as he
contemplated his role in the murders. At the same time, he didn't feel like the
boy could be blamed for it, or held responsible. He didn't ask to be part
leprechaun. He didn't ask to be followed. He didn't come to America seeking
refuge and protection. No, he was simply an exchange student who happened to
have extra abilities due to his bloodline, something he had no control over.
"Sam?"
"It's not your fault. It's here, but it's not your fault at all," Sam replied.
"You didn't do this. Any of this."
Rory sighed, believing none of it. The banshee had come after him, and in the
process it was killing whomever it wanted to, either for amusement, or
sustenance, or even just its nature. The point was, it was because of him that
the creature was there. He was just as responsible for the murders as the
banshee.
"I know you don't agree," Sam said softly. "You didn't know. You didn't
purposely bring it here. Who's to say this wouldn't have happened even back in
Ireland? It would have done horrible things here, there, wherever it went. That
doesn't mean that you can be held responsible." He thought that maybe, just
maybe, if he said it enough the boy would begin to believe him.
There were several more minutes of awkward silence, Rory locked in deep thought
again. His head was beginning to hurt as he felt himself becoming overwhelmed
with information, guilt, and fear.
"What do we do when the banshee finds me?"
"Kill it. However we have to, we kill it. I won't let it hurt you," Sam vowed.
Rory looked back and smiled at the vampire, then gave him an innocent kiss on
his thick lips. "Maybe I should learn to fight, too. How to use these… powers I
'ave. Maybe this heated light show can be, I dunno, controlled so I can use it
against a… a monster."
"Monster, huh? I guess that's what you could call it. A monster, a banshee, a
creature. Thing is, every time you've used those powers, it's left you weak and
tired. How can you fight something if you end up incapacitated?" Sam asked,
running his hand back and forth over the boy's chest.
I guess I 'ave to figure out a way to not 'ave that happen. I 'ave to, Sam. I
can't let other people protect me or fight for me if I can't even try to defend
meself. It's not fair," Rory stated. "I don't want the people I love t'be hurt
without even trying t'protect them meself."
"I understand. I'll help you find a way to control this. You can't be the first
half-leprechaun in the world. Someone else must have been the same and
documented it somewhere. They just had to." Rory snuggled up more comfortably
in Sam's arms. "We shouldn't talk about this anymore tonight. Your friends were
right, you need some real rest."
"I do feel tired. I need a good night's sleep," the teen replied. "We 'ave to
tackle this some more tomorrow though. Promise?"
Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I promise. We'll figure this out and send that
banshee packing back where it came from. Right back to Hell."
They were silent again as the news went off and a comedy show came on. Sam
chuckled randomly at the jokes, but he noticed Rory wasn't laughing at all.
"Are you okay? I know it's a lot to take in and think about," Sam asked,
finding his boyfriend's hand and intertwining their fingers.
Rory sighed heavily. "I'm… I'm not human."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put it that way. You're human, you just have extra
genes in there too. Like the way someone can be half Irish, half African," Sam
said, trying to smooth over Rory's despair.
"No," the teen replied, shaking his head. "No, ye'r right. I'm not human. I'm
something else. Just like ye'r a vampire and there's a banshee. I'm something
not… Sam, I'm… what am I?" He leaned back and began to nuzzle his head in his
boyfriend's chest, trying his best not to cry.
The vampire ran his fingers through the boy's hair with one hand and slowly
stroked his arm with the other. "You're at least half human, just like your
friends. Besides, it's not a bad thing to be something different. It's just one
more thing that makes you special. It's part of your heritage. Instead of
feeling less like a human, you should take pride in being part leprechaun. It's
unique."
"I just want to be normal, Sam. No mind reading. No light shows. No
leprechaunage. Just an average teenaged human boy with a vampire boyfriend."
Sam couldn't help but giggle. "An average human wouldn't have a vampire
boyfriend. They'd have another average human, and you are far from average. I
don't mean your abilities either. You're exceptional. Smart, mature, clever,
loving. Average people aren't special at all. It's the people that have
extraordinary traits that make them above average."
"Ye' mean humans aren't special?"
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean that the run of the mill person that you
would call 'average' has nothing special about them. But people like you, like
your friends, they're above average. Tina is an open-minded, compassionate
young woman. I can tell that just from the few times I have met her. All of
your friends are protective and caring. Even Kurt and Mercedes' unaccepting
attitudes are part of what separates them from the average person. No, you are
exceptional, just like your friends, and I wouldn't want it any other way," Sam
explained. He could be long winded when he wanted to, but he had a way of
making Rory feel better when he was feeling upset.
"It just… it's really upsetting to think I'm not a human. That I'm some sort
of… creature."
The blonde hugged him tight, trying not to cry himself. "Even humans are a type
of creature. Be proud of what you are. You're one of the last surviving
leprechauns in the world I bet. That's even more amazing than being a vampire.
Anyone can be a vampire, but you have to be really lucky to be a leprechaun,
even if you're a hybrid."
"A hybrid?"
Sam grinned. "Yeah, a hybrid. Part human, part leprechaun. It's like the X-men.
They're part human, part mutant. Humans with special abilities because of
special genes in their bodies that happen to be passed down through generations
until it finds the right person to manifest in. That's what you are. A human
with special abilities because of unique genes in your body."
Rory finally smiled. "I guess that makes more sense. It's still a little weird
though."
"Aww come on, go with it. Be a real life X-man! We can even give you a cool
code name," Sam joked. "We could call you… Impact!"
"Impact? Why Impact?"
"Because your abilities are activated by touch, and another word for touch is
impact. When you blasted Kurt with your power, it hit him with an impact. When
you flew backwards at the bar, you landed in my arms with an impact. Get it?"
Rory started to laugh crazily. "Oh me God Sam, I love ye' so much! Ye' know
just how to cheer me up with some silly little game! Thank ye', I really do
feel better now." He yawned between peals of laughter, his sleepiness getting
the better of him.
Sam wiggled out from under his boyfriend and gently lifted him up into his
arms. In vampire speed, he had Rory in his bed, comfortable and already
beginning to doze.
"I'm going to let you sleep. Sweet dreams. I love you, very much," Sam said,
brushing the hair from the teen's forehead with his hand before leaning down to
kiss him.
"Good night, Sam. I love ye' too. I wish I could wake up next to ye'."
Sam gave him a half smile. "Maybe someday," he said softly. He had to turn away
to hide the blood-red tears that were welling up at the corners of his eyes as
his heart ached for the very same thing—to wake up next to the boy he loved so
much.
-ooo-
"Did you really do all that research yourself?" Santana asked as she ran her
hand across Sebastian's bare chest.
"You doubt me?" the maker asked coyly, pushing her hand away.
Santana sighed. "It just isn't like you to do so much work over a boy. Usually
it's just a simple glamour and they fall at your feet. Even without glamour
most guys throw themselves before you. If you can have any of them, why go
through so much for this one?"
Sebastian kicked his feet off of the bed, tossing the covers off and standing
up, completely nude. He walked over to a small table across the room, a bottle
of Tru Blood sitting atop it. He took a sip before he addressed her.
"I told you, he's a challenge. Besides, if he can be of help solving these
murders, even better. The banshee suspicion isn't bullshit. Neither are the
leprechauns," he said, picking up a notebook that was also on the table. He
tossed it to her, the woman catching it in midair. She opened it and began to
read over it at remarkable speed.
Leprechauns are thought to be extinct. None have been found in centuries. True
leprechauns don't follow the stereotypes. Look like normal people, sometimes
can be proportionately shorter than average but not always. Abilities…
"Taking notes? This seems pretty basic, Sebastian," the woman chided. "They
made Microsoft Word for a reason."
"Keep reading, smartass," Sebastian replied, annoyed.
Abilities: Mind reading, life draining, golden energy bursts. Lore suggests
mind reading enabled them to discover people's deepest secrets and desires.
Like all fae, they have control over light to an extent, channeling it into
bursts of energy. They can drain the life of others to sustain their own lives.
Not critical but lengthens the life span and increases power of abilities.
This didn't appear to be anything she didn't already know from the conversation
in the office earlier, but at Sebastian's insistence, she turned the page and
read on.
Rory: Exhibits mind reading capabilities, but claims to only read memories, not
active thoughts. Extreme focusing caused dangerous results, including burning,
blistering, bursts of energy, and being thrown  across the room. Extreme
headache. Extreme fatigue. Sam prevents further exploration.
Santana scoffed. "How special. Sam gets a mention in your notes. You realize
you'll never have Rory until you get rid of that man. Sam will meet the true
death before he lets anything happen to that boy."
Sebastian smiled, licking the blood from his lips. "I have my ways. If I can
get Rory to drink a little bit of my blood, for instance… he won't be able to
stop thinking about me, and I'll know where he is myself."
The thrall glanced over at the digital clock, rolling her eyes. "As fascinating
as this is, we need to get to ground. Too close to dawn. I'm sure you'll have
plenty of wet dreams about your new obsession to keep you occupied."
"Jealousy doesn't become you, Santana."
"I'm not jealous. Merely concerned," she replied, tossing back the covers and
getting up. She approached the bookcase on the far end of the room, fiddled
with a trio of books, and in stereotypical mystery fashion, it slid sideways,
revealing a staircase. She quickly descended, her heavy footsteps betraying her
icy exterior, exposing her true feelings.
-ooo-
Rory slept heavily, finally getting the solid night's sleep that he needed
badly. He didn't wake up until eleven in the morning, feeling guilty for
sleeping so late, but completely refreshed. He took a shower, put on his work
clothes, and decided to have an early lunch. Tina would arrive shortly before
one in the afternoon to pick him up for work, so he had plenty of time to eat.
A note was stuck to the fridge with a magnet, written in Sam's sloppy
handwriting.
Since we didn't make it last night, I went to the store after you went to
sleep. I asked the lady what a teenager would eat. She looked at me funny but
helped me out anyway . I hope you like what I got. If not, we can make a proper
visit to the store. Have a good day at work, and I will pick you up at the end
of your shift. I love you. Yours, Sam
Rory smiled at the note. He could only imagine what the clerk must have been
thinking when someone who looks like a modern teenager inquired about what a
teen would eat. He wondered if Sam explained the situation to her or not, or if
she just went along with it without question. He opened the fridge to find a
much better selection of food than before. Two kinds of lunchmeat, cheese,
mustard, mayo, grape jelly, soda, fruit juice, and a bowl containing an apple,
an orange, grapes, and a banana.
He checked out the freezer next and found frozen pizzas—pepperoni and supreme-
and two kinds of ice cream—Neapolitan and Rocky Road. Apparently Sam was
covering all his bases. A bag of plain potato chips as well as a bag of nachos
sat on the countertop, as well as a loaf of bread and a fresh jar of peanut
butter.
He decided to fix himself a ham sandwich, slice up the apple, and have a
handful of chips with a cherry cola. It was partially healthy at least.
Finishing his lunch, he scribbled a quick note for Sam and left it on his desk.
I love you. Thanks for the food, it's great! See you tonight.
He signed it with Rory xoxo.
Just as he finished, he heard the doorbell ring. Tina had arrived to take him
to work.
-ooo-
Sam arrived a half hour before closing time, ordered a Tru Blood (AB Negative
this time), and sat at the bar, trying to strike up idle conversation with
Mercedes. The young woman traded words back and forth with him, though it was
obvious she was anxious for him to leave. The blonde silently wished that she
and Kurt could both be as accepting of him as Tina was.
Rory finished his closing duties and then joined Sam at the bar, throwing his
arm around him. "Are ye' ready t'go? Been a long day," the teen said.
"Sure, if you're ready. Did you eat dinner?"
Rory shrugged his shoulders. "I had a snack a couple of hours ago, but that's
it. I can fix something when we get back t'the house," he replied. Sam nodded
and said a quick farewell to Mercedes, and gave a wave to Tina who was on the
other side of the room.
Outside, Kurt was standing next to a car Sam hadn't seen before. It was a
large, deep-red SUV, a handsome black-haired man sitting in the driver's seat
with the window down, talking to Kurt. Sam's excellent hearing couldn't help
but pick up what they were saying.
"That's him," Kurt said, looking back toward the vampire and his charge. He
gave a half-hearted wave out of politeness before turning back around and
rolling his eyes. "What do you think, Blaine?"
The dark-haired man shrugged. "He doesn't look threatening to me. In fact, Rory
looks happy. Maybe the craft is wrong about them. Vampires I mean. Maybe some
of them are okay."
Kurt scowled. "Hardly. Rory insists he can't have that spell put on him, but
the way he is just enthralled with him, I don't know."
Blaine reached out of the window and took Kurt's hand. "Rory's sixteen, Kurt. A
mature sixteen at that. Maybe we should put a little bit of faith in his
judgment."
"You're supposed to be on my side," Kurt hissed.
"I am. That's why I'm still going to be researching. I want to give him the
benefit of the doubt, but I want to know what we're dealing with, too. Just in
case," Blaine replied with a coy smile. "You know I have your back, but I want
to be reasonable, too."
Sam stopped listening at that point, annoyed that Kurt was so hell-bent on
making him out to be a bad guy. Sam's days of trouble were done and over, and
all he wanted was to be as close to human as he could manage. For the most part
he succeeded, and having the luxury of a relationship now only made him feel
more like things were going well.
"I think I like this Blaine guy," the vampire whispered to his boyfriend as he
climbed into the driver's seat and started up the truck. "I could hear them. He
was open minded, like Tina. Maybe he can convince Kurt I'm not such a bad guy."
Rory smirked. "When Kurt has his head set on something, that's the way of it. I
don't know Blaine very well, but he's a man-witch and seems really nice."
"A warlock you mean," Sam corrected, giggling. "Ah, a man-witch. You, sir, are
the most adorable thing in this world," he added, smiling. Rory playfully
scowled at him in mock-offense, and then found the vampire's cool hand and
latched on tight the entire ride home.
-ooo-
When they arrived home, Rory paused once he got out of the car, looking down at
his hands.
"Something wrong?" Sam asked, watching him.
Rory looked back up at him, his eyes filled with wonder. "Do ye' think I can…
control it?" he asked, nodding toward his hands.
"I don't know. Maybe. You need to be careful though, it seems like every time
you've zapped somebody, it's weakened you," Sam cautioned.
The teen stared down at his hands again, locked in thought. I have to figure
this out. I have to find out how I can control this, so I can protect meself,
and me friends. And Sam. We don't know what else the banshee is capable of. I
don't want it to hurt him. What it did to Mr. and Mrs. Pierce and Lord
Tubbington is unforgivable. I don't want to see it happen to anyone else. I
have to at least try to destroy the damned thing.
He held his hands in front of him, turning to face the woods. He stood there,
silent, concentrating. Come on, blast out of me hands. Light up. Heat up.
Flash, sparkle, do something, anything. Even a spark would be nice.
He was beginning to feel frustrated when suddenly he noticed his hands warming
up. They didn't feel hot, just warm as if he had just come out of a heated
shower. There began a tingling in his fingertips, his palms getting warmer
still. His hands began to glow a faint yellow color, barely noticeable.
Repeating a mantra of 'come on, blast!' in his head, he felt the sensations
increase in intensity, the glowing getting brighter.
Suddenly there was a bright flash and something came out of his palms, rushing
forward like a surge of golden electricity. His hands burned and tingled,
glowing brightly and then fading away as whatever came out of them had finished
occurring.
Cautiously, Rory stepped forward toward the tree in front of him. There were
tiny sparks still twinkling faintly from a medium-sized rupture in the trunk of
the wide tree. He pressed his fingers against the wound—hot. Not hot enough to
burn, but hot enough to make him jerk his hand back. He then saw another
hand—Sam's hand—touching the same tree.
"Wow. That was amazing," Sam commented, looking down at the boy and back to the
tree. "You can control it. I knew you had to be able to. How do you feel?"
"A little tired, but I felt that before. D'ye think that maybe when I try to do
it, I'm okay? That I only feel bad when I do it on accident?"
Sam shrugged. "I… I don't know. This whole ability is pretty unpredictable.
Dangerously so. Come on, let's go inside. You need to eat before it gets too
late. We'll stay up until midnight and then you can go to bed. I don't want
Tina to fuss at me again," he laughed.
Rory smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam before they went back to the house.
Before closing the door, Rory looked back one more time at the tree, the
sparkles having gone away completely.
-ooo-
The next morning, against Sam's advisory, Rory stood in the yard behind the
house, shaded by a forest of trees, a look of determination on his face. He was
wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, ready for a workout. First he did
some warm up conditioning followed by a jog up and down the long driveway a few
times. Just enough for some exercise but not enough to aggravate his shin
splints. Now in the backyard, he was ready for what he really came out to do.
As he had done the night before, he put his hands out in front of him, fingers
apart. He closed his eyes and concentrated, picturing in his mind what he
wanted to happen. He imagined his hands glowing, heating up, and then finally a
bright flash and a burst of energy shooting forward toward the tree in front of
him. He took deep breaths as he focused, his goal finally being met just as he
had pictured it in his mind.
The blast of energy slammed into the tree, a loud cracking sound filling the
air as the tree's trunk shot shards of wood from the contact point. It was much
more violent than the previous night's experiment.
"Wow!" he said aloud. He approached the tree and felt the fresh wound, feeling
the warmth he expected and noticing slight sparks that faded into nothing. He
was mesmerized by the effect, still having trouble believing that he had just
caused this to happen.
Rory suddenly heard a barking behind him, causing him to spin around, alarmed.
His eyes scanned the area, spotting the source. It was a dog, a golden lab,
sitting on the porch, watching him and yelping. He couldn't tell if it was
disapproval or congratulations.
"Where did ye' come from?" the teen asked, moving closer to the dog. It seemed
calm, not moving at all, just watching. Rory put out his hand as he got nearer.
"Just gonna give ye' a little pet here," he said, finally making contact and
stroking the dog's head, the fur feeling surprisingly clean under his palm. The
dog's head moved, reaching around to lick his hand in appreciation. Rory
crouched down next to him and continued to pet him, scratching at his belly and
rubbing his back. The lab seemed very happy, as if it had been waiting for
years to be treated with such care.
"I wonder what ye'r name is," Rory said. "No collar. Are ye' a stray? Homeless?
If ye' don't 'ave a home, maybe Sam will let me keep ye'. Maybe ye' know the
dog I saved before. Ye' might e'en be friends, eh?"
The dog licked his hand again, rubbing his head against Rory's leg. "What did
ye' think of me' little light show there?" he asked. The dog rubbed his nose
against the boy's hand enthusiastically as if asking for another demonstration.
Rory chuckled and got up, strolling back toward the same spot he was at before.
"Okay boy, watch me. This time I'll see if I can make it bigger!"
With that, Rory faced the tree once again, his hands outstretched in front of
him. He began to focus, imagining the same thing as before, but this time
picturing the blast as a larger beam of energy. Within seconds he felt his
hands burn hot, and the surge of power ran through them.
There was a louder cracking sound than before as the beam hit the tree,
followed by a splintering noise as the old oak split right up the middle from
base to top. When he opened his eyes, the tree was already falling toward him.
Well, half of it. The other half had fallen backward, deeper into the woods. He
didn't have time to react, it came down so fast. He expected to feel the slam
of the wood onto his body, expected to be knocked down and hammered into the
ground like in a cartoon. The feeling never came.
When he finally realized the tree had stopped falling, he moved from underneath
it, looking around the base of the trunk. Standing there, holding the tree up
was Mike—a very naked Mike. Seeing his friend was safe, the man let go and let
the old oak settle to the ground.
"Mike! What are ye' doing here!? And uh, where are ye'r clothes?" Rory
exclaimed, blushing and turning away.
Mike, not embarrassed by his nudity, approached his friend, putting his hand on
his shoulder. "You can turn around. I'm not worried."
Rory nervously turned forward again, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Mike's
face. What happened next could only be explained as surreal. Mike seemed to
shrink, as if crouching down and his body looked to be furry, his head changing
shape. In a blur of flesh, Rory was no longer staring at Mike Chang, but at the
golden lab he had just been petting.
His mouth agape, the teen watched as the dog blurred again, suddenly replaced
by Mike's body. Rory began to back away nervously. "Wha-what are ye'?"
Mike smiled. "I'm what's called a shifter. Like you, I have special gifts,
except instead of reading minds and controlling energy, I can shift my body
into the form of any animal I choose. A few minutes ago, I was watching you, as
the dog."
Rory suddenly looked horrified. "What!? Ye' mean…? I was just pettin' ye'! Ye'
licked me hands and put ye'r nose all over me leg and hand! I rubbed ye'r
belly!"
Mike laughed. "Well, yes, you did, but you thought I was a dog, and at that
time I was."
The teen started to rub his hands all over his shorts as if trying to rid them
of germs. "But… eww! That's weird! It was ye'r belly! I was this close to ye'r…
ye'r stuff!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't do that now, so it's not okay just
because ye' were a dog!"
Mike continued to laugh, amused by the boy's reaction. It was actually the
first time anyone had reacted that way. The select few who knew hadn't even
thought about the fact that they had petted him, played with him, rubbed his
belly. They were more interested in the fact that he could even shift, and what
else he could shift into.
"Don't worry about it. Come on, let's talk. But uh, if you don't mind can we go
inside? I don't want to chance anyone spotting me, especially running around
naked in your backyard."
Rory nodded, leading his friend into the house. He showed Mike to the living
room while he ran upstairs to fetch a robe for him to wear. Mike slipped it on,
then sat down on the couch. "Mind if I have some water? I'm parched from the
heat."
"Oh yeah, sure. I'm sorry, I'm a poor host," the teen apologized, heading to
the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He handed it to Mike, who drank it
thirstily.
"Thanks," the man said. "Now, we definitely need to talk, especially because I
know you're a little freaked out, and I need to explain all this to you, and
also why I was here, watching you in the first place."
"Yes, why were ye' watchin' me? Don't ye' trust Sam t'take care o'me?"
Mike smiled and nodded. "I believe he is capable, yes. At night. Not during the
day. We don't know everything about this enemy that's after you; we need to
keep you safe at all hours."
Rory was puzzled. He hadn't mentioned anything about the banshee to him before,
and yet he knew at least that something was after him. Either that or Mike was
simply concerned with the supposed murderer and wanted to protect a friend who
had already been victim to a grisly experience. "How do ye' know somethin' is
after me? Where did ye' hear that?"
The Asian man grinned. "You're not the only one who paid a visit to Sebastian.
He can be… difficult to persuade, but after some tough bartering, he gave me
the information I was looking for."
"Tough bartering? What did ye' 'ave to give him?" Rory asked, a worried look
crossing his features. "And how do ye' know Sebastian?"
"Don't worry about the cost. I know Sebastian simply from the fact that he owns
another major business in the area. A good manager researches his competition,
and in the process I learned that he was not only the sheriff, but also over a
thousand years old. A valuable source of information indeed," the other man
said firmly. There was no way he intended to ever tell the boy what he had
traded for information. In truth, he had allowed Sebastian to drink from him.
Shifter blood wasn't very common, and it had a certain appeal to vampires,
augmenting their strength and healing slightly, as well as giving them a
certain 'high'. It was like marijuana for a vampire, and Mike had given up an
entire pint for what he wanted.
"If it cost money, I'm sure Sam will pay ye' back. Especially if ye'r watchin'
out for me," Rory told him.
"I said don't worry about it," Mike repeated sternly. "What you need to know
for now, is that you will have a guard during the day. You will have the
protection of more than one shifter, as we will be taking turns on watch. Sam
will take guard during the dark hours."
It was a lot for Rory to digest. Leprechauns, banshees, magic powers,
shapeshifters. He was afraid to ask what else there was, but unfortunately Mike
began to tell him.
"Most of the time, you don't really need to worry about these creatures.
Werewolves, werepanthers, they have a pack mentality, and as long as you leave
them alone, they leave you alone. If you don't do anything that's a threat to
them, you'll be fine. In other words, as long as you go on about your daily
life, you will undoubtedly never have an issue with either of them," Mike
explained. "Shifters don't have the pack mentality, but odds are that if you
don't threaten them, they won't bother you. Really the various species aren't
out to destroy or harm each other."
"Then why the fear with the vampires? Why are they such a big deal to worry
about?"
The Asian sighed deeply. "See, weres and shifters in their human forms eat
normal food. In animal form, we can dine on other animals, just like normal
beasts. Vampires, however, survive on blood. Human blood. The only way to get
it is if they take it. Now, though, with Tru Blood they are becoming less of a
threat and more of a mainstream species. As long as they can have their Tru
Blood, there's no need to feed on humans."
"Well all that sounds pretty simple then. E'eryone leaves e'eryone else alone."
Mike shook his head. "Not that simple. Not all vampires are okay with this.
Some of them still like the way of draining humans, and have no intention to
mainstream. That's why there's so little trust, because you never know exactly
which vampires are going to feed on humans."
"Well Sam doesn't feed on humans. He drinks his Tru Blood, so ye' can trust
him."
"He drank you," Mike pointed out.
Rory blushed. "It was… I allowed him to. I asked him to. It was during… it was
private. Trust me, though. He had me permission, and he would ne'er do it
without me say so."
Mike gave him a look of disapproval. "You're treading on a thin wire with that,
but I can't stop you. Lust can make us do foolish things. As can love."
"What else is there? Creatures, monsters, whatever?" Rory asked, hurriedly
changing the subject to avoid further embarrassment.
"Tons of things. Fairytales are often based in truth. There are many different
species out there, most who just want to live their normal lives, however they
do it. They don't want trouble. But then there are ones like this banshee, who
have an agenda. Those are the ones that are dangerous."
Rory mulled this information over, realizing that just when he thought he was
getting a grasp on things, there really was so much more going on in the world
that he didn't know.
"What's wrong?" Mike asked, noticing the look of sadness and confusion on the
boy's face. "Too much at one time, huh?"
The teen nodded his head. "Yeah, it's a lot. A whole lot. So much more than I
e'er thought. I mean, I knew something was different about me, but I didn't
think there was so much out there—these different species o' humans and animals
and little magical people and stuff. It's a lot to take in."
Mike put his hand on Rory's shoulder in a sign of comfort. "You don't have to
try and digest it all at once. There's only three things you really need to be
concerned with right now. Your abilities and role as a leprechaun, Sam's
ability to protect you as a vampire, and keeping this banshee at bay."
"I thought ye' said ye' were gonna watch out for me during the day," the teen
pointed out.
"Okay, so four things. My point is, right now, you don't need to worry about
werewolves and panthers, witches, fairies and all those other things. Face all
that later."
Rory let the side of his mouth turn up a little in a half smile. "Thank ye',
Mike. I hope we get this whole thing o'er with soon, so ye' can go back to ye'r
normal life. I hate being a burden on people. I don't like t'be a bother to
anyone."
"Sam doesn't think you're a bother, and neither do I. I'm your friend. I might
be your boss, but I'm your friend first and your safety is important to me. And
to Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, Brittany. You have more people watching out for you
than you think."
Mike's words settled into Rory's head. He was right, Rory did have a lot more
people looking out for his safety, even if some of them didn't have special
abilities. They may not be able to protect him from the banshee, but they could
help him emotionally, when he needed them to, and he could help them, even
without his powers. It was those words that were most important throughout the
entire conversation.
-ooo-
The year was 1923 and Sam was finally settled in on his own after decades of
being with his maker, living in a cave, and other random places. He had scouted
out a cottage where an old couple lived. Refusing to murder them, he simply
waited. After a year of watching, the old couple finally passed within a few
days of each other, having suffered an intense case of polio. Polio was the
dominant infectious disease at the time, and being old and weak, they stood no
chance against the virus. No one ever came for their bodes. In an act of
humanity, Sam took their coprses and buried them in the backyard—a pair of
unmarked graves. It was the decent thing to do, as he couldn't bear the idea of
doing anything else with the deceased humans.
The old couple apparently had no family around, so nobody ever came to the
cottage when they were alive and surely not after their deaths. The cabin was
very small, but all Sam needed. He cut down a very large and thick oak tree and
carved out of it a coffin for himself. It just barely had room for him, but it
served the purpose. He kept it in the back room, using the old woman's hand
sewn curtains to block out the sunlight during the day. The couple had very few
possessions, but they had enough for him to survive on. Chairs, tables, some
books that he tried to read but couldn't. The woman had sewing and knitting
that remained unfinished and the old man had carvings and hides. He had been
reading one of the novels before he died, the book sitting on the small table
next to the rocking chair. His clothing wasn't in the best condition, but it
was warm and more than Sam had at the time.
Sam had no desire to return to his days of raping and murdering, so whenever
his hunger became too great, he would wait until nightfall and go into town
where he would find a young woman and use his charms to convince her to come
home with him. They would make love and in the process he would feed on her,
but not enough to kill her. He would glamour her so that she remembered nothing
of the attractive blonde stranger, and attributed her weakness to a bout of
illness. He found this to be much more of a humane system for himself as
opposed to simply abducting people and feeding on them until they perished. He
never preyed on the same woman twice, not wanting to risk forming an emotional
attachment. The pain would be too great.
Eventually he came across a beautiful young woman whom he tried to glamour,
except it wouldn't work. It had to be another vampire, the only beings he knew
of that were immune to the glamour. They exchanged a silent understanding of
what was going on and moved to some place more private—his cottage. She
introduced herself as Marley- Marley Rose—a former teacher over two hundred
years old. Teachers back then were very different, their tasks being much more
difficult than in current times, but of course her teaching skills had changed
over the decades. No longer did she teach reading, writing, and arithmetic—she
taught orphaned vampires how to survive on their own. Marley had been watching
Sam for quite some time, entranced by his handsome face. He invited her back to
his home, where they talked into the night. When dawn came, she left for her
own residence but after several nights of meeting, they began to form a bond, a
friendship. Sam confessed his inability to read and begged her to teach him.
She agreed and over the years their friendship developed into a sexual
relationship.
They were not a couple; they were merely friends with a close bond, both
physical and emotional. Marley admired Sam's retention of humanity and the pair
often found themselves bringing home a young woman, or a young man, to satisfy
their needs before sending them home for a good rest to recover. Marley was
impressed with the way her new friend had managed to take care of himself,
despite his 'orphaned' status.
It was during one such incident that Marley introduced Sam to the idea of being
with a man. You're going to live for hundreds, thousands of years. It's time to
open your mind to new experiences, she had said. Just try it, for me. Then
you'll know.Sam agreed and they brought home a handsome young man, one whom
they had observed all evening, determining his persuasions.
The young man was very much a bisexual, having flirted openly with both
genders. Marley glamoured him, telling him that Sam was a virgin, needing to
experience a man for the first time. The idea of deflowering a man as
attractive as Sam appealed to him—glamour or not. First he drew Sam into a
kiss, which turned into several more kisses until they were vigorously making
out. They quickly removed their clothing, and the young man took the lead,
giving Sam his pleasure first, before taking his own. Marley watched in eager
fascination as her best friend experienced his first man, her fingers working
herself into a fervor.
That was amazing. I want to do it again. I want to do more, lots more, Sam had
told her afterward. From then on, they enjoyed both genders on a regular basis,
Sam even seeking out men on his own at times.
It was one evening in the sixties when things got out of hand, and Sam lost
something dear to him for the first time since his transformation. The pair was
wooing a young man at a pub, when the bartender recognized what was going on.
He didn't fully understand how it was working, but he knew that these two
people were monsters—the kind of monsters that had become more and more
prevalent over the years.
As Sam and Marley left the bar with their chosen, they were greeted by the
bartender upon turning down the alley behind the bar. In one hand he held a
pistol and in the other, a long wooden rod, sharpened to a point at one end. A
confrontation ensued, but in the end the man succeeded in driving the wooden
spear through Marley's heart, forcing her to meet the true death. In a rage,
Sam attacked him mercilessly, holding the man down and torturing him with fear
before slaughtering him. He ripped the man's heart out, and just before he
faded away into the darkness, Sam sank his teeth into the pulsing organ,
causing it to explode in his hand and all over the face of the brutalized
tender.
Sam spent the next several months in mourning, both for Marley and for his
irrational action. He was torn—the man killed his closest and only friend,
someone like family to him. He took away the only person he had in his life at
the time. But Sam had also vowed to himself to retain as much of his humanity
as possible, refusing to murder, and instead stick to his routine. Losing
control on the bartender wiped out everything he had struggled to be over the
years, and it tore him apart. He drew himself into reclusiveness for the next
two years, feeding only on animals.
He eventually had a dream, something he sensed was a vision, of Marley begging
him to move on with his afterlife, to find another companion, to put it all in
the past, to forgive himself for his transgression, and to start over. He awoke
the next evening, his face covered in bloody tears as he heeded Marley's words,
forcing himself to return to his normal routine until he found something else
for himself.
Filled with a new sense of purpose, the young vampire sought out Marley's home;
a place he had never actually been to. Marley enjoyed the charm of Sam's cabin
so much that she had little desire to return to her mansion, so it was never
visited. In fact it had been twelve years since her last stay in the Rose home.
Her family had owned it since it was built in the 1800's. Knowing that if he
kept the home, he would only obsess and drive himself back into misery, he sold
the property and many of the belongings inside, keeping the newfound fortune to
begin anew—his third chance at making an existence better suited to himself.
-ooo-
Sam awoke midday, something he never did. He had dreamt about his past, dreamt
about the time from when he had been abandoned, to spying on his family, to
meeting Marley and her unfortunate death. He prayed that Rory never asked for
more details, because he was so ashamed of what he had done. He could surely
refuse to tell him, or lie, but he was dedicated to the teen and determined to
always be honest with him, no matter the consequences.
He fell back asleep not long after his abrupt disturbance, having a dreamless
sleep the rest of the day, waking at dusk to get ready for the evening. When he
turned off the shower he could have sworn he heard a voice singing. A soft,
feminine voice, way off in the distance. It was beautiful. Shrugging it off, he
finished his routine, and then headed to the Lima Bean to pick up his
boyfriend.
-ooo-
When Sam arrived at the Lima Bean, he could hear the singing more loudly. It
was when he walked into the establishment that he discovered a young woman
standing on stage, rehearsing a song. She winked at him when she took notice of
the new arrival. Sam smiled and nodded to her politely, but focused his
attention on finding Rory.
The teen was just finishing up turning in his tickets and registering his tips
on the log. While Sam waited, he chatted casually with Tina.
"Are you coming to the big performance? We've heard her rehearsing and she's
great," Tina asked him, referring to opening night for the live entertainment.
"If Rory wants to come, then yes. I'd love to accompany him."
"He'll be here. He's on the schedule to work until close. All of us are,
actually. It'll be a little later than usual because of the show, but I can't
imagine that'd bother you too much," Tina replied, smiling. "You know you're
welcome here with or without him."
Sam gave her a nod and a grin. "Thank you for the extended invite," he said. "I
will definitely be here, then. It sounds like it will be fun."
"Oh it will be! Lots of food, drinks, music, and dancing! I even made sure Mike
ordered some fresh Tru Blood for our vampire customers! Oh, and don't worry,
we're each taking turns with breaks so you can dance with Rory, too," she told
him cheerily.
Rory walked up to join them, finished with his tasks. "Hi, Sam," he said,
hugging the older teen.
"Hello, handsome," Sam said with a cheesy grin. "Tina was just convincing me to
come to the big performance. I think she's sold me on it." Rory beamed, pleased
to hear that the vampire had agreed to attend the big event.
"You ready to go?" Sam asked. He hoped so. While Tina was incredibly friendly,
he could feel the judgmental eyes of Mercedes and Kurt watching him from the
bar.
"Yeah. Kind of hungry, and I was kind of hoping ye'd tell me another story from
when ye' were human. I loved hearing about ye'r past."
"Oh, I bet it's fascinating!" Tina interjected. "I bet you have a lot to tell
over the years. Seen a lot happen, new inventions. I'd love to hear some of
your stories sometime. I mean if they aren't too private."
The vampire gave her a kind smile. "Not at all. One evening I'll have to share
some with you. It really is amazing what I've seen in a hundred and seventy
years."
"Hmph. He's robbin the cradle," Mercedes snickered to Kurt from her place at
the bar. "That's what, a hundred and fifty-four years difference?"
"Sounds about right. You have to admit, he's very attractive. He doesn't look
that old," Kurt replied. Mercedes glared at him disapprovingly. "I was simply
saying. I still don't trust him. Handsome or not, he's bad news."
"What about Blaine? Has he come up with anything regarding that weird flashy
thing Rory did to you?" the woman asked, lowering her voice. While she didn't
care if the vampire heard her snide remarks, she seemed oddly concerned if she
was overheard discussing Rory and his abilities.
Kurt sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "No, nothing yet. He said since Rory
didn't say any kind of incantation or use any kind of talismans or ingredients,
it couldn't be witchcraft. He's still looking into it. I told him to check and
see if there are any kind of side effects of vampire bites that might give him
some sort of magic, but he said so far, aside from weakness and fatigue or
death, there isn't much else for side effects from a bite," Kurt explained. "I
hope he finds something soon. It could be dangerous. I don't want to see
anything happen to our friend."
Mercedes nodded, saying nothing else. She was disappointed, having hopes that
Blaine would dismiss it as witchcraft and they could have some sort of
intervention. Witchcraft was much easier to accept since she had actually seen
it work for herself. Blaine was an incredibly talented and powerful Wiccan and
she was lucky enough to have witnessed him performing some of his craft.
Sam and Rory bid Tina goodnight, giving polite waves to the harsh stares of
Kurt and Mercedes. The bigoted words of the pair still hurt the vampire's
feelings, but there was no way he was going to express his continued upset to
his young boyfriend. If Rory knew how much it was getting to him, he might end
up in a confrontation, and the last thing Sam wanted was to drive a wedge
between friendships.
-ooo-
Sam sat at the table, watching his boyfriend eating his dinner. Feeling lazy,
Rory had requested a stop at a fast food restaurant, ordering a burger and
fries with a vanilla milkshake.
"Do ye' think if ye' mixed some Tru Blood in it, ye' could try it?" the anxious
teen asked.
"I honestly don't know. I'm not sure I should try it. It could make me sick,"
Sam answered. "I wish I could though. It sounds like it would be delicious.
Frozen milk and cream. I bet the cows don't like being in the freezer."
Rory laughed loudly. "Oh Sam, they don't put the cows in the freezer! They put
the milk and cream in a machine and it mixes it and keeps it cold!"
"I know, I was teasing. I'm not that dumb." He childishly stuck out his tongue
and then took a swig of his Tru Blood: Type O Negative. "So, what do you want
to hear about? My human life was relatively boring compared to what people have
today."
The teen shrugged, taking a bite from his burger. He swallowed, sucked down
some of his shake and then answered. "How about ye' tell me what happened with
ye'r friend, then? The woman? Ye' said she was a teacher who helped ye' and
all."
"I… maybe another time for that one," the vampire hesitated, a forlorn look
crossing his features.
Rory blushed, embarrassed that he had asked something so personal. "I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to upset ye'."
Sam shook his head. "No, it's okay. It's just that last night I had this dream
about it all. Like a real vivid memory in my sleep. It was from the time my
maker left me until Marley—that was her name, Marley Rose—met the true death.
That changed my life quite a bit."
"Ye' don't 'ave to talk about it. How about…" the teen thought hard, trying to
find a way to change the subject but still get an intriguing tale from the man.
"How about ye' tell me one of the neatest inventions ye' saw. I mean, ye' got
t'see cars and computers and TV and microwaves!"
The older teen laughed at the boy's excitement. "Alright, I can do that."
When Rory finished the last of his dinner, Sam ushered him into the living
room, onto the couch. "Wait here," the vampire said softly, walking out of the
room. A few moments later, he returned with two wine glasses. One of them was
filled with the deep red of fresh Tru Blood; the other contained a fine red
wine.
"Try this, see if you like it. If you don't, I can pour you something else,"
Sam said, sitting down next to his boyfriend. He leaned back comfortably,
watching the boy as he considered the glass.
The teen lifted the glass to his lips and carefully tilted it back, letting the
red liquid coat his tongue and slide down his throat. It tasted a bit strange
at first—Rory hadn't had any kind of alcohol before—but after another sip, he
was already used to the flavor. Sam reached over and gently placed fingertips
on the boy's anxious hand.
"Sip, not chug. You don't drink a wine all at once. You nurse the glass, making
it last for a while. That will help soothe you, relax you, as opposed to
getting the 'buzz' people make such a big deal about," the older man explained.
Rory blushed at his over eagerness, setting the glass on the table. He pulled
his feet up onto the cushions and leaned against the back of the couch, smiling
contentedly. He gazed into Sam's bright green eyes, momentarily forgetting what
they even came to the couch for. He finally blinked, breaking the stare.
"So, you want to hear about the things I saw as I aged," Sam stated. "There's
so much to tell I suppose, if I really wanted to go into detail. You have to
keep in mind, I had to experience everything at night, so while I did see a lot
in my time, I also missed some as well."
The younger teen reached forward with his hand and placed it on his
boyfriend's, having long ago lost any bother by the cooler touch of his skin.
"Just tell me about what ye' remember. What it was like seein' so many things
coming about. I mean, there's new stuff now, but nothing like what ye' must
'ave seen."
"That's true. Most of what we have now are simply evolutions of existing
ideas—cars, computers, technology in general. I saw it being birthed."
Rory listened intently as Sam went on to explain the many things he had
experienced over the decades. He had seen rise of the automobile, mainstream
use of electricity, flight, several wars, The Great Depression. He had seen
decades of happiness and sadness, prosperity and poverty. Sam told him how the
things he had experienced were still nothing compared to the millennia that
vampires such as Sebastian had seen—vampires who were sixteen centuries old.
Never once did Rory get bored, or ask for a break. He simply gazed in
wonderment, listening to the words and watching the occasional gestures that
Sam made.
By the time Sam was finished recounting his tales, it was well past midnight.
They spent the remainder of the evening watching a movie, Sam sitting back on
the couch, Rory leaning back against his boyfriend's chest. They stayed in that
position as the young teen fell asleep. Sam refused to move; he had no desire
to disrupt the sleep of his prince. As he sat listening to the even breathing
of the boy, he could hear in the distance the beautiful singing of a woman.
Before when he heard it, he dismissed it as just some girl testing her talent,
but now he knew what it really was. The banshee's wailing into the night.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 8: I Plead Insanity *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: I don't really have anything interesting to say here
     this time. :p Just cater to my deflated ego and leave me reviews. ^_^

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 8: I Plead Insanity
The Lima Bean was much more crowded than usual thanks to the promise of live
entertainment. Mercedes and Kurt were feeling overwhelmed already with the
influx of drink and food orders, and still more people were coming in. Tina and
Rory were joined by Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend, who offered to assist in waiting
tables. Brittany was showing up later on to help too, Rory having invited her
to come as a way to get her mind off of the tragedy of her family's deaths.
"I would be happy to assist in any way I can," Sam offered Tina as she ducked
behind the counter to pull out more ketchup.
"No way! You're a guest, you're supposed to enjoy yourself!" she replied. "Now
go on, go mingle and as soon as we can afford a break, I'll let Rory take a
short breather." She motioned her hands in a 'go away' gesture before scooting
past him with her condiment bottle.
Tina may have suggested he go mingle, but that was the last thing Sam was
comfortable with. All of the people he knew were behind the counters or weaving
through the crowd taking orders, and of those people only his boyfriend and the
young Asian woman treated him with any semblance of decency.
"I see you put in an appearance," came the smooth, condescending voice of
Sebastian Smythe as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere behind the blonde
vampire. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and smiled. "I heard this was the
place to be tonight. I couldn't help but see what all the fuss was about."
Sam shrugged off Sebastian's hand as he rolled his eyes. "More like you just
wanted to come watch Rory running around, portraying the role of servant," he
said coldly. He started to walk away when the ever-familiar tone of his least
favorite sheriff's progeny piped up.
"Don't be so bitter, Samuel. We came for the entertainment, just like you,"
Santana cooed with her sarcastic flavor. "We can't help it if the working boy
is an added bonus." The corner of her mouth turned up in an almost hateful
grin, her eyebrow rising as if to challenge him.
"Some day Santana…" the blonde trailed off, glaring at her. "Just wait. Someone
is gonna knock that smirk and attitude right out of you, and I want to be there
to watch." He grinned back at her arrogantly.
Santana rolled her eyes. "I think I'll go find a human to swoon over me. After
all, once the music begins, I'll need a dance partner." She gave Sam one last
look of disapproval before sauntering off in the direction of several jocks.
"Not dancing with your little temptress?" Sam asked snidely.
"I don't dance, Samuel. Not to 'pop' music. Slow dancing is more my style,"
Sebastian replied matter-of-factly. "I'd be happy to share one with you later,"
he added slyly. Despite their rocky 'friendship', Sebastian still found Sam
attractive and was more than willing to take any available opportunity to get
close to his body.
"No thanks," Sam said flatly. Sam wasn't sure if the offer was genuine or
merely the sheriff being snarky, but either way he had no desire to so much as
touch him, let alone dance with him. Sam intended to dance only with one
person, and that was Rory.
The two men stood in silence as Mike dimmed the lights and took center stage.
He held a microphone in his hand and wore a wide smile on his face. "Welcome,
everyone, to the first live performance at the Lima Bean!" he announced. The
crowed cheered loudly, Mike having to wave his hands to quiet them back down.
Rachel sauntered on stage next to him, wearing a form-fitting, knee-length
dress that accentuated every curve of her body. She was slim, and her chest was
nothing impressive, but she had a certain aura about her that drew the
attention of everyone in the room. Her long brown hair hung down in ringlets,
her face adorned with classy makeup. When she smiled, her pearly white teeth
glistened in the light.
"I would like to introduce the talented young woman who not only will be
performing, but also inspired this entire event! If it hadn't been for her,
this entire evening wouldn't be taking place," Mike declared, motioning toward
Rachel. "Without further ado, I present Miss Rachel Berry!"
The captive audience cheered, despite having no previous knowledge of who
Rachel Berry even was, nor what she planned to sing. She took the microphone
from her host and scanned the room with her eyes. "I'm so excited to be here
tonight!" she exclaimed. "I hope everyone enjoys what I've prepared for you
all," she added.
The music began to play as the woman looked out to the curious audience with
bright eyes, drawing in every bit of their attention.
-ooo-
As Tina promised, the moment they slowed down enough, she gave Rory his break
time. The teen took off his waiter's apron and trotted up to his boyfriend, a
goofy grin across his face.
"How do ye' like the music? Isn't she great?" he asked, sliding his fingers
between Sam's.
"She's very talented," the vampire replied. "Care to dance?"
"I'm not very good…" the boy admitted with a blush. Sam's mouth turned up in a
faint smile as he took Rory's hands and placed one on his waist and the other
over his shoulder. Sam did the same on opposite sides so that they were holding
each other.
"It's a slow song, so you don't have to do a whole lot except sway back and
forth. It's really just about relaxing and gazing into each other's eyes," the
blonde explained.
Without hesitation, Rory stared right into Sam's emerald eyes, locked in their
shine. Fellow teens and young adults around them were dancing as well, with
various combinations of men and women. There was no differentiation between gay
and straight as friends danced with friends, straight men danced with straight
men, lesbians danced with gay men, it was simply a time to enjoy the beautiful
singing that flowed from Rachel Berry's lungs. It was unusual for Lima to be so
liberal in this manner, but Rachel's voice could be having some sort of effect
on the humans.
"Sam?"
"Yes?" They were still staring into each other's eyes, but Rory broke the gaze,
his eyes wandering around behind Sam, and to the sides.
"Look. E'eryone's stopped moving," the teen replied. They too stopped dancing
and began to observe the scene. Not only had everyone stopped dancing, but they
had stopped moving altogether. They were like statues; locked in whatever
position they had been in when their bodies halted in place.
Mercedes, Kurt, and Blaine were amongst the immobilized crowd. Rory stepped up
to Blaine, who had a tray in his hand. He pressed a fingertip against the other
man's cheek, feeling warmth. He was still alive, but it was as if he was frozen
in time.
"What's going on?" Tina's softer voice demanded as she looked around the room.
"Everyone just stopped."
Mike pushed in the register tray and stepped out into the lobby. "No, not
everyone. Look, Tina. Sam and Rory, Sebastian and Santana. They're not stuck.
They're moving like normal."
"Hey, anyone got any clue what's happening?" Sam called out. "They're all
alive, but it's like they were just… paralyzed."
Sebastian sauntered up to his comrades, Santana close behind. "This doesn't
look good. I gather it's a spell of some kind, but it appears to only work on
humans. Observe—the only ones not affected are of the supernatural variety.
Vampires, shifters, leprechauns." He nodded his head toward Mike and Tina, as
well as toward Sam and Rory.
"Did you notice the singing stopped too?" Santana pointed out. "The thing is, I
don't see her, that Rachel woman. It's like she just disappeared right with her
voice."
All of the other moving people immediately turned their attention to the empty
stage. Indeed, Rachel Berry was nowhere to be seen.
A shrill noise that was so loud that several glasses behind the bar shattered
all at once resonated within the building. The six movers all fell to their
knees, holding their ears to block out the sound. It rang like a scream.
When the painful noise stopped, and they were all able to focus again, they
were greeted by a new host. It was Rachel Berry, except she looked different.
Her hair was much longer and wilder, her skin paler, somewhat jaundiced. Her
veins were faintly visible beneath her skin, her eyes surrounded by dark
circles, giving them a sunken in appearance. Her lips were tinted black, her
fingernails the same color. Her clothes had been replaced with a translucent
black dress, revealing beneath it her shapely yet ghostly body.
"It seems my spell hasn't worked on quite everyone," Rachel observed, annoyed.
"That can only mean one thing."
"What?!" Sam cried out, standing back up.
"That you are some other mythological being. A vampire perhaps? Werewolf? Or
even… yes… my… leprechaun," she cooed, resting her gaze on the kneeling
teenager at Sam's side. "Yes, just what I've been searching for. I knew you
were here. I could sense you. The rest of you are cold, or smell like beasts."
Rachel stepped down from the stage and walked elegantly across the room until
she reached the stunned Rory. He stood up, the woman surveying him with an
approving look. He felt her cold fingertips drag across his face the way an
affectionate mother would caress her child. He shuddered at her touch and she
continued to coo in a strange language.
"Yes, just what I need. A leprechaun. One of the very last of your kind, you
know."
"What do ye' want with me?" Rory demanded nervously, his eyes roaming over the
creepy woman. "I've done nothing to ye'!"
"Your blood. Every last drop," Rachel whispered in his ear as she leaned up
next to him. Without a second thought, Rory channeled his anger at the woman
into a very bright blast of golden light. It shot her backward, toward the
stage. She crashed into the speakers and the curtain fell on top of her.
Taking advantage of the creature's temporary distraction, Sam grabbed Rory's
hand and yanked him toward the door. "Come on! All of you!" Sam ordered as he
threw the glass open and charged outside.
"We'll use my vehicle. It's larger and will fit all of us," Sebastian offered.
On cue, the locks on the vehicle all clicked, releasing entry. Sebastian and
Santana took the front seats, Rory and Sam the middle, and Tina and Mike the
back. Without waiting for anyone to fasten their seat belts, Sebastian shifted
into reverse, then into gear, driving away at a much faster speed limit than
was legally posted.
"Wait! What about Kurt and Mercedes and Blaine!? We can't just leave them!"
Rory screamed. "And the other people! She might hurt them! And Brittany! She's
on her way now!"
"Simmer him down, Samuel. We can't save them all now. If she gets hold of the
boy, who knows what might happen. The way she practically wet herself over him,
his blood must be powerful," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "Besides, she may
follow us, leaving the rest of the humans in no danger."
"Ye'r a right bastard!" Rory hissed. Sebastian merely smirked in response.
Sam placed his hand on his boyfriend's clenched fist, drawing his attention
away from the sheriff. "I think he's right. I think everyone will be okay. It's
you she's after, not them. I promise, as soon as you're safe we'll check on
them all. For now, send Brittany a text and tell her not to go anywhere near
the Lima Bean."
Rory nodded, accepting Sam's encouragement. He whipped out his phone, quickly
typing out a warning to Brittany.
"What was that thing?" Tina asked, her voice shaky. "It was ghastly!"
"Banshee," Rory whispered. "She must 'ave been the banshee, and she's
after me."
"After you? Why?" she asked, even more confused. "What did you do?"
Sam grumbled under his breath. "He didn't do anything. He's part leprechaun,
and the banshee wants him because of that. She wants his abilities." He gripped
the handle of the door so hard that it cracked in his hand. "She wants to kill
him for what he is. She wants to steal his life or energy or something! We
don't really know!"
Rory reached over and this time placed his hand on Sam's pure-white-knuckled
hand and managed to pry it from the handle and lock their fingers together.
"Calm down, Sam. I need ye' t'be clear headed."
"He's right. We all need to keep calm, clear heads. Panicking won't help
anything at all," Sebastian piped up. He sat in the driver's seat, Santana next
to him, her arms folded across her chest as she stared out of the window at the
passing scenery, bored and irritated.
"Is there any sign that someone is following us?" Mike asked, looking out of
his own window. He cracked it open, trying to listen for telltale sounds of
someone in pursuit, but the roar of the wind rushing by was too loud.
"No, I don't think we're being followed," Sebastian replied. "I suggest we go
somewhere safe. Either Sam's home, or Scandals," he added evenly.
Rory looked over at Sam nervously. "Let's go t'Sam's. I'd feel more comfortable
there," he said. "Is that okay?" he asked, still looking right at his
boyfriend.
The blonde vampire nodded, not speaking. At the moment, the only thing keeping
him under control was the feeling of his boyfriend's hand in his, the warmth
coming from Rory's soft, human flesh. Sam could sense the boy's increased heart
rate from heightened nerves and fear.
"I have to make sure everyone is safe, Sebastian," Mike finally spoke up.
"These people aren't just hapless victims. They're friends, classmates, co-
workers! These are innocent people. We can't leave them to die!"
"I said we're seeking safety for ourselves. Those humans can't help us and we
can't help them," the sheriff announced coldly.
Mike lost his composure, finally giving Sebastian a piece of his mind. "Look,
you selfish fuck! These people are important to me, to all of us, so you're
going to take us back there to protect as many people as we can, you got it?!"
he shouted angrily. Tina reached up and put her hand on his arm.
"Calm down, Mike. Let's at least get Rory to safety, then we can go back and
help everyone else," the woman said. "Please, cool off."
Mike gritted his teeth and recomposed himself in his seat. Tina was the only
person in the world who could appeal to his better senses and she was surely
abusing that ability right at the moment.
"Sebastian, please, take us back when we've dropped off Rory and Sam. You don't
have to stay, just take us back," Tina begged. The sheriff huffed an agreement,
eliciting more eye-rolling from his progeny.
The group rode in silence the rest of the way to Sam's home, too scared, too
tired, or too uncertain of what to say. The tension was thick enough to slice
with a blade. When Sebastian finally pulled into Sam's driveway, everyone got
out of the car, the breeze sending chills over their skin despite the warm
weather of the Ohio summer.
Stepping inside, Santana looked around disapprovingly. "So this is where the
great Samuel Evans sleeps, showers, and brushes his fangs," she said thickly,
her eyes wandering. "Unimpressive."
Sam was too frustrated at the moment to retort, but that didn't mean Rory was
going to let her comment go without defense.
"Anyone e'er tell ye' just how rude ye' are?" the teen announced. "Sam invites
ye' in here for safety and all ye' can do is insult his home. I happen to like
it here, and so does he, and if ye' don't like it, then get out and go back to
Scandals and rot."
Tina couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at her young friend's assertiveness. It
had been long enough since he had ingested the vampire blood that it was no
longer still affecting him—this came from his own anger. She watched with
intense interest as she waited for the vampiress to respond. To her
disappointment, Santana merely scoffed and rolled her eyes for the millionth
time that night.
"Drinks in the kitchen. Food, too. I'll be in the study. I need to think," Sam
said flatly, walking toward his office. His young boyfriend followed behind
him, pulling the door closed after them. He then walked up behind Sam as he sat
at his desk, his human hands massaging the vampire's tense shoulders.
"Sebastian and Santana are goin' with Mike and Tina to check out the situation
at the café'. Nobody was answering phones, but I think… I think e'eryone is
okay. They'll be back shortly," the teen informed the century-old vampire. "Are
ye sure we're safe here?" he then asked timidly.
"For now, yes. I don't know for how long, though," came the broken reply. "I
have to protect you. I can't let her hurt you."
Rory dropped his arms across Sam's chest, leaning down so their faces touched.
He turned his head and gently pressed his lips against his boyfriend's. When he
pulled back, he saw the slight pools of bloody tears forming around the man's
eyes.
Embarrassed, Sam turned away, standing up out of Rory's embrace and hiding his
face. The teen gave chase and insisted Sam stay still. When he faced him, he
saw that indeed the vampire had streaks of blood across his cheeks. He reached
forward and wiped the man's eyes, leaving slight red smudges.
"Don't cry, Sam. E'erything will be okay. I trust ye' and I've been practicing
with me powers. That banshee won't 'ave an easy time of it. I just need ye'
t'be strong. I need ye' t'be strong because…" Rory wrapped his arms around Sam
and hugged him tight, mumbling into the vampire's shoulder. He sniffled and
unburied his face. "I need ye' t'be strong because I'm scared."
Sam steeled himself, forcing his bloody tears to hold back. Rory was scared,
terrified. Sam had to remember that his boyfriend was only sixteen. While he
himself had a hundred and fifty-three years on him, Rory was still so young and
innocent. He hadn't seen much of the world and suddenly things were toppling
end-over-end right in his lap.
"Don't be scared. We'll protect you. And you'll protect yourself. I'm one-
seventy. Sebastian's over a thousand, and Santana is enough of a bitch to keep
a banshee at bay on her own regardless of her age. We've all got plenty of
experience fighting off the enemy. Even your two shifters can hold their own,
I'm certain. Then there's you..." Sam paused, pushing the boy back just enough
to stare into his eyes, his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Then there's you, a
powerful leprechaun-human hybrid. You said you've been practicing, and we're
gonna keep practicing. We're going to see just how powerful you are."
Rory's bright blue eyes watered. "Why is this happening? I ne'er did anything
t'anyone! E'er! I just want to be happy with me vampire boyfriend and someday
be one too," he blurted out.
"Wait, what did you say?" the vampire stopped him, his gaze turning rock hard.
"Did you say…?"
"That I want t'be a vampire. Yes. How else will we be t'gether? I'll age and
ye' won't. Ye'll 'ave to watch me age and die. I don't-I can't handle that
thought!"
"No. We need to discuss this later. Too much going on right now. Let's get
through this and then we'll talk about long term," Sam stated firmly. Rory
opened his mouth to argue, but Sam stopped him with a finger over his lips. "I
said no. Not now. " Rory sighed and let it go. Maybe he was being irrational.
He hadn't truly given it the thought that it deserved. He was basically asking
Sam to kill him and bring him back, an act that not only required great trust,
but also patience and self control. What Rory didn't know was that a newborn
vampire would wake with an insatiable hunger, a desire to kill, to destroy. It
was up to the vampire to control him or herself and force their humanity to
come out. They were almost uncontrollable except by their maker, and even then…
Sam would have to explain all of this to him before he could truly entertain
the idea.
They stayed in silence for the next two hours, Sam locked in thought as he
scoured the internet for more information on banshees. Rory sat in Sam's lap,
reading over the information as well.
"Sorry to interrupt," came the smooth voice of Sebastian Smythe. Both boys
looked over to see that the older man had entered the study uninvited, his arms
crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised as he appraised the scene before
him.
"What is it?" Sam asked, forcing himself to maintain a semblance of control.
His hatred for Sebastian only increased the more he was around.
"The humans are safe. The banshee was nowhere to be seen, and her spell had
worn off. Most of the humans went home, and the ones you call your friends were
closing up shop before heading home themselves. They seem to have no memory of
being immobilized or that anything was ever wrong at all," the sheriff replied.
"And also, I simply wanted to offer a suggestion. Rory should sleep with you,"
Sebastian added, his lips turning up in a sly grin on one side.
Sam rolled his eyes. "That's none of your business if we've slept together or
if we are-"
The sheriff held up his hand. "I don't mean fuck. I mean, sleep together, in
your basement. Obviously your coffin won't accommodate a human, so I recommend
we move a bed down there. I assume the room is light tight, with locks on the
doors so there shouldn't be a problem."
The blonde paused and thought a moment. The idea was definitely enticing.
Sleeping next to his boyfriend, waking up beside him, holding him all night.
"Don't give me that dumb look," Sebastian stated sarcastically. "The idea is
for him to be safe in his sleep. You'll be right by his side, so should
anything happen, you're right there."
"Why do ye' e'en care? Ye' hate Sam, and ye' only seem to want something from
me, so what's with all this? Are ye' up to something?" Rory asked accusingly.
The sheriff scoffed. "I'm not up to anything. I do like you, however, and I
don't care to see you harmed. If that means working with Sam, then so be it.
Whatever it takes for your safety." He reached out and caressed the human's
face. The Irishman jerked his head back, reeling at the touch.
"I 'ave to agree the idea does sound logical," Rory stated. "If we could move
something down there for me to sleep on, I would feel safer with Sam by me
side."
"It's decided then," Sebastian declared. "We'll move a bed into the basement
where you can rest safely, behind locked doors, and with Sam at your side." The
man didn't wait for a response but turned to leave. "By the way, I'd be careful
just how much of your blood you let him take right now. You're gonna need all
the energy you have, no time for stupid acts in the whim of sexual ecstasy," he
added, not bothering to look back.
"He's a real jerk," Rory muttered, his face turning into a look of distaste.
"It's none o' his business what we do t'gether."
Sam didn't say anything but instead took the boy into his arms and held him
there, Rory's head on his shoulder, Sam's hand stroking his hair. "Don't pay
him any mind. He's simply jealous because he can't have you." Sam paused a
moment as a thought came across his mind. "By the way, no matter what, do
not drink any of his blood. Ever. Or any other vampire's for that matter."
"Why not?" the teen asked without pulling away. He closed his eyes and slowed
his breathing as his body felt more and more at ease in the strong arms of his
much older lover.
"Because if you drink from a vampire, it forms a link between you. At least it
does on normal humans. It may not work on you. I don't care to test it though,
do you?"
"No. Not at all. The idea o' being linked to Sebastian in any way is
disgusting. The chance o' it working is enough t'ward me off," the teen
replied. He exaggerated a shudder to show his disapproval of the idea. "I can't
imagine anyone wanting t'be with him without being under some sort o' trance
anyway."
Sam chuckled, his face softening. "Apparently Santana enjoys him. Vampires
can't glamour each other and she lets him ravage her any chance they get."
Rory turned up his nose in disgust. "She must be the only one then." He
exaggerated another shudder before returning to Sam's arms. Both of them
laughed lightly at the display. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to forget
about the banshee for just a minute. So much had come down on them in the past
few hours alone that they needed a break. "What do ye' mean by link anyway?"
"It's hard to explain but it's like a… connection. For example, I can always
sense if you're in danger, hurt, ill. I can sense your emotions. It can also
include making you very sexually attracted to the vampire you drink from."
"Oh, I'd be sexually attracted to ye' without ye'r blood. I definitely don't
wanna think about Sebastian that way though. It'd be like dream rape or
something," Rory said, making another exaggerated shudder.
"Knock knock, children," Santana announced sarcastically as she threw open the
door. Both men looked over at her unwelcome entry. "They want to get his
bedding taken care of," she said, nodding toward the teen and rolling her eyes.
"Apparently the shifters want some rest or something too."
"I have extra rooms they may stay in," Sam stated firmly. "As for you and
Sebastian, I have no extra arrangements for either of you, so either bury
yourselves under the house, or go home for the day."
Santana hissed at him. "You should really watch your mouth, boy! Sebastian
insists we help you, which means I have to as well, so the least you can do is
pretend to be appreciative before I vomit blood all over your dusty house!" She
turned on her heel and marched out of the room angrily. They could hear her
yelling loudly at Sebastian about the rude vampire youth and his progeny
wannabe. Her voice rose even shriller as she screamed swears in anger.
Sebastian had just told her about his intent to stay over day.
"I'm not sure who's worse. Him or her," Rory said with a laugh. "At least he
doesn't scream and yell."
The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a grin. "Good point. I guess I should
get to working on housing arrangements. We need to set up sleeping quarters for
you downstairs with me. Tina and Mike can settle in the spare room, and as for
the vampires…"
"Are ye' really going to make them bury themselves in the ground?" Rory asked
skeptically.
Sam laughed. "I should. But no. I don't know if you noticed but the basement
has a second section to it. There's a door, so we can still have our privacy. I
have a couple of old 'vampire beds' they can use. They'll just have to sleep
low class for the day."
"Vampire beds? Coffins. Ye' can say it. Coffin. I know how it works now," the
younger teen declared confidently. "We 'ave a banshee trying to kill us. I
think I can handle the word 'coffin'."
"Okay, okay. Point taken. Now come on, let's get this stuff sorted so you can
get some rest. You need to be in top shape if you have a run in with that
banshee," the blonde said, heading toward the still-open door.
-ooo-
The small group decided it would be best if at least one of them 'stood guard'
until the next night. Mike offered to take first watch, while the others were
given a chance to rest. He tucked Tina into the spare bed, kissing her
goodnight before shutting the door and returning to the living room downstairs.
Santana sat in the library, browsing Sam's collection of books, rolling her
eyes at some of the titles and showing mild interest in others. Sebastian sat
next to Mike on the couch, neither man so much as acknowledging the other's
existence.
Down in the basement, Rory was getting ready for bed. He was tired but not
exhausted. His brain felt more fried than anything else. Sam sat on the edge of
the bed, watching as his young boyfriend disrobed, leaving only his boxer
shorts on. Sam smiled at the sight, admiring the teen's lithe body and firm
rear.
Rory climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. Sam got off the
bedside and hovered over him, smiling. "Such a handsome young man. I'm very
lucky." The teen blushed at Sam's words. He would never get used to such
complimentary speak, particularly from someone who had probably encountered
many attractive people in his deathtime.
Sam leaned down to kiss him, but when their lips touched, he felt Rory's hands
reach up and pull him down all the way, chest to chest. Sam crawled on top of
him, lying atop the comforter with his mouth latched onto the Irish teen's
lips. His hands ran up and down the blanket, feeling the growing firmness
beneath them.
"Is this really the time?" the vampire asked hesitantly when he broke the kiss.
"I can't think o' any better time. It's the number one stress reliever ye'
know," the teen replied with a shameless grin.
The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a smile. "I can't deny those beautiful
blue eyes any desire in the least." He shucked off his clothing in vampire
speed, and then crawled under the comforter with his boyfriend, yanking the
teen's drawers down and tossing them aside so that their nude bodies were
pressed against each other, the pair of them kissing passionately.
Rory's breathing sped up as he struggled to keep up with his boyfriend. Sam's
enhanced speed allowed him to touch the teen in so many more ways, his hands
running up and down Rory's body, massaging, tweaking, rubbing, playfully
scratching the pale flesh. Light moans escaped the teen's lips at the
sensations all over his body from one place to the next and back.
Sam stared down into the teen's eyes, green meeting blue and locking in place.
He needn't ask the burning question inside him; Rory wanted him, wanted Sam
inside of him, filling him with his manhood. Taking the cue from the wide,
lustful eyes, Sam bit his own wrist, then slid his hand down, glazing his
erection with his blood. He pushed Rory's legs up to his chest, using his slick
finger to ready the teen for Sam's admission.
Within minutes, the boy was anxious and practically begging for Sam to mount
him. Never one to disappoint, Sam coated himself one more time before placing
himself at the tight entrance of his boyfriend. With a firm push, he entered
him.
The pain was intense as Rory allowed himself to be breached. It subsided almost
instantly, however, an effect of the bloody lubricant. Sam bent down to kiss
him as he carefully thrust his hips. Rory's hands clawed at Sam's back while
Sam's hand was busy giving attention to Rory's groin.
Sam wasn't quite as gentle as he had been before—this was sex born of urgency.
He was still cautious enough not to hurt his boyfriend, but he took advantage
of his healing blood and thrust into him harder much sooner than before.
The pair were locked in a rhythm of desire that didn't know time. Neither man
knew just how long they were intertwined in passion, but as Rory finally became
closer, he made his request.
"Bite me, Sam," Rory breathed quietly into the man's ear. "Take me all the
way," he said. Sam hesitated a moment, unsure if he should go through with it.
They had done it once already, but he knew Rory needed to be in his best form.
The teen assured him it was alright as he pulled Sam's head down toward his
shoulder, lining up his neck with the vampire's mouth.
As Sam thrust deeper and faster into the young man, his free hand stroking the
teen, the other holding himself in place, he sank his fangs deep into the boy's
neck. Rory cried out in temporary pain, his body lighting on fire for just a
moment before he felt the erotic helplessness of being taken.
The blonde grunted roughly as he went over the edge, filling up the eager young
man. He continued to stroke, coming up from his position of head on shoulder
and looking down at the boy. He bit his wrist and pressed it up against Rory's
mouth.
"Drink. Drink, and fall apart. It'll be like nothing you've ever felt before,"
Sam whispered. Rory brought his hands to Sam's wrist, holding it still while he
pressed his lips against the wound and began to suck. The taste was just as he
remembered it from the night Sam had saved him, and as the blood entered his
body, it sent tingles throughout his veins. He felt himself crash down, his
orgasm stronger than anything he had ever experienced in his life. He sucked
harder and harder still as his body felt paralyzed with pleasure.
When Rory finished his wave, Sam pulled back his wrist. He pressed a finger
against Rory's blood-slicked lips, then pressed it against the wounds on the
boy's neck. They closed up and healed instantly. Sam then leaned down and
kissed him as he collapsed on top of the boy.
"That. Was. The most amazin' thing I e'er felt," Rory announced. "It was like
me whole body was alive with, with…"
"With intense, overpowering pleasure," Sam finished for him. "I'm glad I could
give that to you." He rolled onto his side and cuddled with the sated boy. "You
should get some sleep now. I'll stay here, with you until dawn. I'll have to go
to my coffin to rest then." He looked at the forlorn face across from him. "I'm
sorry I can't let you wake up next to me, but I'll be here as long as
possible."
"I love ye', Sam," the now-sleepy teenager said softly as he allowed his
boyfriend to wrap his arms around him in a protective manner.
"I love you, too," the vampire declared, kissing him on the lips before pulling
him even closer.
Sebastian descended the rest of the way down the stairs to the basement. In
their fervor, neither Sam nor Rory had heard him come in. Undetected, the
sheriff had paused halfway down the staircase and couched low so that he could
watch as the two boys made love. Even in the near darkness he had been able to
see the occasional glint of bright blue eyes—innocent eyes. His erection
strained in his pants, begging for attention. He would have to tend to that
need later, when Santana came down to join him.
"You have the most beautiful human in your possession, Samuel," Sebastian
whispered. Rory had quickly fallen asleep, fortunately unable to hear the much
older man declare his presence.
Sam's eyes turned cold as he shifted his head to look at the elder. "How dare
you," he hissed quietly, not wanting to wake his partner. "That was a private
moment. You had no right to spy on us," he added angrily.
Sebastian grinned mischievously. "I can't help it if I wanted to come down to
my quarters and you were in the middle of something. Once I saw him, I had no
choice but to observe. It's enough to make my mouth water," he teased.
Sam sucked in a deep breath, his eyes cutting into the older man like daggers.
"Don't you ever 'observe' us like that again," he said firmly. "It's one thing
to have no respect for my privacy, but you will give him every ounce of respect
and decency."
Sebastian threw his head back and laughed. "You're giving me demands? That's
rich, Samuel. You're lucky I'm in an amused mood right now. You have balls, I
must say. I'll leave your human to his privacy, but I'll say it again. You have
the most beautiful creature in your possession."
"He's not a creature; his name is Rory, and I don't own him," Sam said stiffly.
"We belong to each other. He is mine and I am his. Now go away before you wake
him up."
Sebastian grinned. "As you wish, Samuel." He dropped his face to one of
complacency as he strutted toward the door partitioning the basement. Once he
was in the room, he summoned his progeny telepathically through their blood
bond. He needed release after witnessing one of the most arousing scenes he had
seen in a long time.
-ooo-
Rory had no idea what time it was when he finally awoke. The basement was
relatively light tight, which was all the more reason why he didn't understand
exactly why Sam had to sleep in the coffin.
The coffin. He had yet to actually see Sam sleeping inside of it. The idea was
chilling, but at the same time intriguing. What's he look like in there? Is he
still breathing; there's no air holes… Does he close his eyes? Is he actually
sleeping, or just laying there, still?
These questions roved through his mind one after the other. He wanted to walk
up to the case, lift the lid and find out the answers for himself, but he had
no idea if something would actually happen to Sam if he did. What if he gets
angry with me?
"You're curious, aren't you?" came a quiet voice seemingly out of nowhere. Rory
spun around to see the source of the noise: Mike. Rory didn't say anything, he
just shifted his eyes from Mike to the coffin and back. "Of course you are. I
don't blame you." He stepped forward and stood next to his friend, staring down
at the fiberglass casing. "I didn't mean to barge in, by the way. I had
orders."
Rory gave him a bewildered look. "Orders? From who?"
The Asian man smiled, putting the boy at ease. "Sam. Before he turned in for
the dawn, he came up to see me. We had a decent conversation, actually." He
leaned his head back slightly, recalling the exchange. "He asked that when you
woke up, that I take you out back, to train."
"To train?" the teen asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. He wants you to keep testing your abilities. To control them," Mike
said. He's afraid you might need to fight. He's scared he can't keep you as
safe as he needs to, Mike added in his head. There was no way he would voice
that to his young friend. It would shake his confidence, and right now he
needed it.
Again, Rory didn't speak, just stared down at the coffin. "Do ye' think he's
comfortable in there?" he asked, finally looking up at Mike, a worried look on
his face.
"Yeah. He's slept like this for over a hundred and fifty years. Trust me, he's
cozy."
"Are ye'… are ye' friends now?" Rory asked nervously. He was afraid of what
Mike might come back with.
The older boy put his hand on Rory's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I
don't know if Sam and I will ever be 'friends' the way you might want us to be.
But we are allies. We have the same goal; we'll work together. But something
you have to understand is that shifters and vampires don't have the best
history together. Wolves, either. It's the way it is I suppose."
"I guess that's better than nothing," the teen said sullenly. "I just wish
e'eryone could be friends and get along."
"That's in a perfect world. We don't live there. Right now we simply tolerate
each other's existences." Mike watched the boy as he ran his fingertips along
the coffin edge. "You're dying to look. It won't hurt him."
Rory looked back up at him with a shocked stare. "I… I don't wanna chance it."
"He'll be fine, I promise. Just lift the lid and take a peek. I'll go back
upstairs so you can do it in private even. I want you upstairs in ten minutes
though. You gotta get going so we can get started on training," Mike
instructed. He smiled, nodded toward the lid, and walked up the stairs.
Rory stared down at the coffin once more. It looked so solid. He really wanted
to see, but he didn't want to upset Sam either. He continued to trace his
fingers along the edge until he found himself very gently lifting the lid. He
opened it about halfway, looking down at his boyfriend in a peaceful slumber.
Sam still looked to be breathing, albeit a lot slower than before. Involuntary
habits Sam had said. The man's eyes were closed, his hands clasped on his
belly. He looked peaceful. If Rory hadn't known better, he would have thought
he was at a wake, observing a corpse prepared for burial. He wanted to reach
down and touch him, just to know he was still 'alive'. His hand hovered right
over Sam's face, wanting desperately to just stroke his cheek, to brush his
fingertips against Sam's thick lips, but fear of waking the man froze his hand
in place.
Finally, Rory stepped back and cautiously closed the lid. He let out a breath
he didn't realize he was holding, slightly disturbed at what he had just seen.
It was one thing to know his boyfriend slept in a coffin during the day, but to
actually see him in the coffin, asleep, looking like an exhumed body… it was
entirely different. Regretting his spying, he trudged up the stairs and into
the main part of the house. It was only Mike and Tina awake, the pair in the
kitchen eating cereal.
"You need to eat something before we start. Keep your energy up. Sam told me to
put you through the ringer," Mike advised.
"The ringer?" the Irishman replied, confused over yet another American slang
phrase.
"Yeah. He means put you through a rigorous training session. A workout," Tina
answered. "He wants to make you strong, and we don't have a lot of time.
There's no going easy about it," she added.
"So, you need to eat something before we start," Mike repeated, nodding toward
the box of Frosted Flakes on the table. Rory shrugged and retrieved a bowl from
the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer, filled the dish up with cereal, and
then added milk from the fridge. He hadn't realized how famished he was until
he started to eat. Two bowls of Frosted Flakes with milk later, he was ready.
After breakfast, Rory changed into jeans and a t-shirt and met the two shifters
in the backyard. Mike had already spray-painted targets on several trees at
varying heights.
"Okay, first things first. If you think you might pass out, let us know. We
have no idea what extensive use of your abilities will do to you," Mike
announced from across the yard. "Second, the colors mean something."
Tina began to point to the different targets. "Red means use the weakest burst
you can manage. Try to hit the targets and we'll see what the effect is after."
Rory nodded at her, waiting for further instructions. "Yellow means using a
stronger blast, but not your strongest. Green means 'go'. That means use the
strongest blast you can muster up. We need to see how good your aim is at the
varied energy levels."
"That doesn't sound too hard," Rory said with more confidence than he felt. So
far he had just focused on trying to get the energy to come forth; he hadn't
meddled with aim or intensity. If it worked like it did before, all he had to
do was concentrate. This time, he would concentrate on how much power to draw
up and exactly where he wanted it to go.
"You ready?" Mike asked. Rory nodded, bringing his hands up in front of
himself. He extended his arms and splayed his fingers as he had done before and
picked one of the targets. It was red. He took a deep breath and began to
concentrate. He imagined his hands heating up as they had before, imagined them
starting to glow. Within seconds, his hands really began to warm and gain a
yellow-gold aura. He thought about the target, the round dot in the middle. He
felt his body react to his visions, his hands going from pale to bright yellow,
the heat intensifying, and then feeling a burst of energy leave his fingertips.
The sensation felt strange, as always. It could only be described as feeling
like his fingers were leaking. It didn't last long, however, as the sound of
splintering wood filled his ears. When the effects stopped, he looked up at the
target, bringing his hands down.
There was a dark black burn mark about a foot under the target, several pieces
of bark and wood having splintered out from the impact. "Shit," he said under
his breath.
"Good try. It was your first attempt. You can't expect to get it right the
first time," Tina encouraged, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Try again, for
the same one. Just focus a little higher, and see if you can dial down the
strength." She tried to think of a way to help him relate his power to
something else. "Think of it like throwing a baseball. You don't always want to
throw it across the whole field, so you don't put as much force into the
throw."
"Ye' know I'm Irish. We don't throw baseballs," the teen replied with a
chuckle. Tina blushed at her error, but Rory simply smiled and turned back
toward the bruised tree. As before, he held up his hands, concentrated, and
this time thought about the dot itself, and only the dot – not the outer rings,
not the bark nor the wood – just on the painted circle. He then reflected back
to Tina's analogy. Not as much force. Not as much force. Just a little bit.
Come on, just a little, he told himself. His hands quivered slightly, the glow
not as bright as before. He felt the leaking sensation again, and when it
stopped, the dot was gone, replaced with a scorch mark. The bark was still
there. He'd managed to hit the target and not blow it up all the way.
"Much better. Ready to up the ante a little bit?" Mike asked, raising an
eyebrow mischievously.
By lunchtime, half of the trees in the backyard had burn marks on them, the
other half actually missing bark and chunks of wood. Only two had actually
fallen down. Tina was insistent that they not kill any more trees than
necessary; come wintertime, the few trees that were downed could be cut into
firewood. Sam himself didn't need to worry about temperature, but if Rory
intended to spend time there in the cooler months, the fireplace would warm up
the home much better than any heating unit.
After lunch there was more practice. This time, the shifters decided to make
things a little more mobile. Using a skeet shooter, clay pigeons were launched
into the air by Mike. Rory aimed for them, missing the entire first round of
five. And the second round. Frustrated, he began to send out a rising shower of
sparks into the air, finally hitting a clay disc.
"I think maybe we've had enough for today," Tina suggested, noticing that the
teen was not only sweating profusely, but also visibly tired. His eyes were
getting droopy, his movements slowing down compared to the more agile dashes of
earlier. Suddenly, to her dismay, he started to wobble and tip over. She
reached the boy just in time to catch him from falling flat on his face.
"Yeah, that's definitely enough," the woman stated. She knelt down on the
ground, taking the tired young man with her. Mike jogged up to join them,
crouching down next to them to inspect their charge.
"I think it's catching up with you," the man said, giving Rory a good once
over. "I'll help you get cleaned up. You're sweaty and dirty. Sam will pitch a
fit if you're in disarray when he wakes up." Mike had meant it to be funny, but
it sounded sarcastic.
Tina smiled at him as she helped him to his feet. "You did great today," she
said. "I'll get the gun and the leftover discs and fix something to eat. You'll
have a hot meal on the table when you come back down."
-ooo-
Rory's energy exercises had taken a bigger toll on his body than he had
thought. When they had paused for lunch, he had felt a little weak, but didn't
bother to say anything. He now wished he had because the second set had proven
to be too much.
Mike pulled the teen's arm around his shoulder, steadying him. They stumbled
into the house and up the stairs, a very slow process since each step seemed to
require more energy than the one before it.
"Sit down," Mike instructed, pointing to the closed toilet lid. Rory did so,
his eyes heavy and his head light. He waited while his friend started the
bathwater in the bathroom. Within a few minutes, the tub was full of hot water.
"I hope you aren't shy," the man added with a chuckle.
Rory shrugged, allowing Mike to assist him in removing his clothing. Normally
he would have been less than thrilled being seen nude by anyone but a doctor or
his boyfriend, but having seen Mike in his nakedness already, and being far too
worn out to argue, he allowed himself to be undressed and helped into the tub.
The hot water felt good on his tired muscles. He leaned back, resting his head
against the edge. He closed his eyes, falling asleep.
Mike scratched his head, contemplating what to do next. He didn't want the boy
to feel violated, but he needed a wash, and he was obviously too tired to do it
on his own. Sighing, he finally made a command decision.
-ooo-
The Irish teen woke up in the basement on the bed, Sam's coffin next to him,
the lid open. He was dressed in a fresh pair of boxer shorts, the comforter
pulled up to his neck. If Sam's coffin was open, then he was awake and about.
Rory sat up, stretched, and then got out of bed. Whoever had brought him to the
basement had forgotten one little thing—his clothes. He was unconcerned with
Mike or Sam seeing him in only his underwear, but he didn't like the idea that
Sebastian could see him in so little and undress him with his eyes. He also
didn't feel like hearing Santana's inevitable snarky comments about his average
body that lacked definition and surely didn't match up to her maker's toned
form. The idea that Tina would see him was also not something he was thrilled
with, though more out of shyness than fear of judgment.
In an attempt to keep his dignity, he pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped
it around himself, trudging up the stairs and into the house proper. He could
hear the television in the living room, but when he peered around the
doorframe, he saw only Santana and Sebastian, two people he didn't feel like
talking to.
Assuming Sam would be in his study, he shuffled down the hall, across the
foyer, and took note of the cracked, open door, light peeking out. He rapped on
the door with his knuckle, not wanting to simply barge in.
"Come in," Sam said politely. Upon noticing that his young boyfriend had
entered the room, Sam stood up, his eyes suddenly brightening. "Rory!" he
exclaimed calmly, walking up to him and taking him in his arms. "I'm glad to
see you're up. How do you feel?"
"Tired. I got some rest, but I still feel like I ran a marathon," the teen
replied.
"I heard how well you did. You need work on moving targets, but your control is
getting better. You've come really far, really fast," Sam said with an air of
pride. "You're adapting to your newfound skills a lot better than I did when I
first became vampire."
Sam let go of him, stepping back and taking the teen's hands in his own. "I'd
be lying, however, if I said I wasn't worried about what this is doing to your
body. I fear it might be doing more to you than we can see."
"Ye' mean the tiredness?"
"Yes. The weakness. Passing out. Those aren't good signs at all," the vampire
noted. "I wonder if pressing you to train is the best idea. I might be making
you damage yourself even more." His eyes darkened with worry, his mouth shifted
into a grim frown. "I'd feel a lot better if we knew more about your abilities.
Maybe you shouldn't train anymore. Maybe that was enough."
Rory gave him a half-smile and a sigh. "I 'ave to do what I 'ave to do, Sam. We
'ave no choice."
"I've been trying to research, but I'm getting nothing we don't already know.
Rory, I want to protect you. I want to keep you safe, so I can have you for as
long as possible. Until…" he trailed off, refusing to voice the knowledge that
someday he would indeed have to watch his boyfriend die of old age. He knew
that even though leprechaun powers apparently included draining life to sustain
their own, but he also knew that Rory would never take someone's life
willingly.
"That's why ye' should turn me before I get too old," the teen declared. "Ye'
make me into a vampire, just like ye', and we can be together fore'er," he
added. Sam looked horrified at the suggestion.
"No. I can't do that. I can't just steal your life from you. You don't… you
don't know what you're saying. It's not as simple as just a bite and calling it
a day. There's more to it, and you have to give up so much, and… No, you're not
being turned."
"But—"
"You will not be turned, end of discussion," Sam said harshly. "You will live
out your human life by my side, as you should." He turned away, feeling his
eyes begin to water with blood.
Rory huffed loudly. "In case ye' hadn't noticed, I'm not human. I'm half
leprechaun, and it's me own choice, not ye'rs!"
Sam spun around angrily, grabbing Rory's arms. "Dammit, we aren't discussing
this anymore! You stay what you are, and don't think you can go off getting
turned by someone else, like Sebastian, because then you're bonded to him until
he releases you, which I know for a fact he wouldn't do! You'd be his slave,
his toy! You don't know what you're talking about."
The teen pulled back, trying to loose Sam's grip but to no avail. "Ye'r hurting
me! Let go!" he shouted.
Embarrassed, Sam let go and turned away, heading toward his desk. He cursed
himself for touching him that way, for losing his temper. It wasn't like him,
but Rory was so stubborn, insisting on taking this subject further, knowing he
didn't understand everything involved with what he was asking. "I'm sorry. I
didn't mean to act like that. You just don't know all of the details, and now
isn't a good time to think about it. I lost my temper. Even vampires can be
irrational sometimes."
"Ye' say I don't know what I'm talking about, then tell me. Explain it to me,
Sam. Help me understand."
"You would be giving up so much more than you know. There's… there's so much
more involved than just a simply action, it's so much more emotional and… just
no. Please drop it," Sam begged, his voice laced with sadness.
"We'll talk about this again later," Rory said quietly while he rubbed his
upper arms. Sam hadn't bruised him, but he felt an ache where the man's hands
had been squeezing. He was far more upset about Sam's refusal to discuss the
subject than he was the iron grip. "I'm going to watch TV with the others." Not
waiting for a response, he walked out the door, pushing it shut behind him.
Sam watched the door shut, his vision suddenly tinted deep red as the tears
welled up in his eyes. He shut his eyes, trying to stop the flow, but it did no
good. He plopped down into the nearest chair, leaned forward, his elbows on his
knees, and held his head in his hands. "Fuck," he swore at himself.
-ooo-
"Lover's quarrel?" Sebastian cooed as the leprechaun entered the living room.
Sebastian had a cocky grin on his face, feeling like he had made a victory.
"Shut up, Sebastian," Rory snarled. Since first meeting the sheriff, the teen
had gotten over feeling intimidated by the older man. He had power over
Sebastian whether the vampire knew it or not. As long as Sebastian gave in to
his emotions and desires, Rory would always have the upper hand. It was a tiny
fact he took comfort in.
He sat down in the armchair, picking up the remote for the TV and began
flipping channels. He wasn't even paying attention to the screen; all he could
think about was what had just transpired in the study. Maybe I'm being
unreasonable. No, no I'm not. For us to be together, I'll have to change. If I
don't, he has to watch me get old and die. After that he'll be alone again. I
don't want that. He just doesn't see it from me side.
Lost in thought, he didn't even realize Sebastian had snatched the remote from
his hand and was changing the channel back to what he was watching before. "I
can't take much more of this. The odd couple, Ozzie and Harriet, bickering like
children. Stuck in this dull house with boring company."
"I don't see why we have to stay here. That screeching bitch isn't after us. I
want to go home and get out of this hellhole, Sebastian. It's trying my
patience," Santana grumbled, cutting her eyes toward Rory. "All this drama is
giving me a headache."
"If ye'r so miserable here, then get out. Go. All ye' do is complain," Rory
blurted out. His first inclination was to apologize, but the woman didn't
deserve an apology. She needed to know about herself. "Go on. Out. Go home!"
Santana's lips turned up into a sarcastic smile. "And he comes out swinging!
Little leper got some bite in him," she teased. She then turned her attention
to her maker. "Come on, can't we get out of here? Fuck knows what's going on at
the bar without us."
"That's a valid point," Sebastian agreed. He stood up, looking down at Rory.
"We'd love to thank you for your hospitality," he began with a sneer. "But
she's right, we really must go. It's been a pleasure, I'm sure." He gave Rory a
once over, obviously imagining the teen without the sheet wrapped around him.
In a blur, the two vampires were suddenly gone, leaving the disgruntled
teenager sitting alone in the living room, an episode of Matlock playing on the
screen of the television.
Frustrated, he stomped back into Sam's study, shutting the door gently behind
him. Sam didn't bother to look up from his desk, pretending to be writing on a
notepad.
"Sam, I'm sorry," Rory stated. "Now isn't the time for this. We need to focus
on now, this screaming demon trying to kill us."
Sam finally looked up, his cheeks stained red where he had been crying and had
wiped away the tears. "Agreed," he said simply.
"Please don't be mad. I don't want to fight," the teen said. "Can't we make
up?"
The vampire continued to stare at him, their eyes meeting. He stood up, walking
toward the boy while never taking his eyes away. He knelt down in front of him,
taking Rory's hands in his. "I just don't want you to go through what I did. It
was tragic, and I don't want to see you throw away your human life," he said.
"We'll look at our options later. Right now, let's get through this. Then I
promise we can work on this conversation. Fair?"
Rory smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Fair," he said. He leaned forward and planted a
soft kiss on the thick lips of his boyfriend.
"Do you forgive me? For my overreaction? I'm disgusted with myself for touching
you that way."
"It's alright, Sam. It's forgotten." The anger and awkwardness was over,
replaced by understanding and tranquility.
-ooo-
When the teen and the vampire emerged from the study, Sam noticed that both
Sebastian and Santana were gone. Rory hadn't mentioned their departure, but he
was relieved to see they were no longer around. Sebastian put him on edge and
Santana was just generally unpleasant.
Still worn out from his earlier exertion, Rory ate a sandwich Tina made for
him, and then retired to the couch. Sam sat with him, the boy's head in his lap
as the elder teen ran his fingers through his boyfriend's dark hair. A late
night movie was on—a comedy—something to distract the younger teen from their
predicament. He had spent all day training until he had worn himself out. He
deserved some relaxation. Some actual relaxation, something fun, and right
then, a comedy on TV was going to have to suffice.
As Sam ran his fingers through Rory's hair with one hand and rested the other
on his chest, he couldn't help but think about the fact that this boy was so
young, only sixteen, and being forced to deal with so much so fast. He had
become used to his memory reading abilities, learned to adjust to them, but now
he was expanding his powers and learning to use them offensively and
defensively, to keep himself safe. Safe from a mythological demon who wanted to
suck the life out of him just because he has leprechaun in his bloodline. The
banshee had already killed several students and an innocent pair of adults,
adults who were important to Rory. Ideally, the teen should be hanging out with
his friends, going to the movies, sitting around playing video games, throwing
parties, learning to drive, working his part-time job; this boy didn't deserve
all this drama and death thrown at him. Sam began to wonder if coming into
Rory's life had been a wise move. Would all of this have been avoided if I
never set foot in the Lima Bean and started this relationship? Would he have
been better off?
As if Rory had heard him, he reached up and grabbed Sam's hand on his chest,
interlocking their fingers. He shifted and pulled their hands down across his
belly, snuggling up in his boyfriend's arms more securely. No, he wouldn't have
been better off. The banshee would have come even if I hadn't been here. The
difference is that because I'm here, he has a chance at survival. If it hadn't
been for introducing him to Sebastian, he wouldn't have been able to discover
his other powers. If I wasn't here, he'd be as good as fodder for that
screeching bitch. Yeah, it's good I came to him.
Sam craned his neck around to peer into the open door of his study. Mike and
Tina were busy researching how to actually kill a banshee. There were myths
galore, but finding ones that agreed upon a method was difficult. It seemed
each story had its own mythology about the banshee. One claimed her own scream
could kill her, another claimed the vocal cords needed to be removed. One said
the only way to kill her was to hack off her head, and yet another suggested
placing her into a vacuum so that she had no air, and thus no ability to scream
or even breathe. That one seemed the most hokey and unlikely. Hacking off her
head sounded like a great idea, since that was a surefire way to kill the
majority of the creatures on the planet.
It was around two in the morning when Tina and Mike retired to bed for the
night. They were researched out and needed some rest for the next day. Assuming
Rory was feeling up to it, they were going to be working on some more
exercises, namely defensive maneuvers. Sam couldn't help but wonder who was
going to be manning the Lima Bean, but that was honestly none of his concern.
Rory fell asleep in Sam's lap, and was later carried down to the basement and
gently laid in the bed. Sam lay with him until dawn, sneaking back into his
coffin just as the sun rose. When he moved, the young teen shifted as if he
were going to wake. Relieved that he hadn't actually woken him up, Sam pulled
the lid shut and closed his eyes.
-ooo-
By the time Mike and Tina left for their shifts around mid-afternoon, Rory was
soaking in the bathtub, the water extra hot to ease his aching muscles. He had
bruises everywhere, having been assaulted by tennis balls, softballs, and even
a Frisbee. The pair of shifters were hoping to get him to form some sort of
shield, but the closest he got was a wide arc of light that sent a ball hurling
right through one of the upstairs windows. It was all very amateur, but none of
them exactly had any past experience with this sort of thing and it was all
trial and error. Mostly error, as his purple spots could attest.
The good news about the day's workout was that Rory was noticeably less tired
than the day before. They hadn't done quite as much, but even still, he had a
lot more energy than before. It wasn't until he settled into the steaming hot
water that sleep threatened him.
The teen stayed soaking in the tub for over an hour, the water turning lukewarm
and giving him slight chills. He finished washing up, got out, and dried
himself. He felt better and had almost a renewed sense of energy. He threw on a
pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tied his sneakers on extra tight, and left the
house to go for a run.
Before he had left, Mike had given the teen strict instructions not to leave
the house. At the very least, he could always take cover in the basement, and
Sam could be of help to him as long as the sunlight was kept out. If he left
the house, however, he was on his own with no protection. Unfortunately, he was
beginning to feel stir crazy already having been stuck in the house and
backyard for two days straight and he needed to get rid of some of the excess
energy as well.
Rory intended to jog down the driveway until he got to the main road, then run
at least a mile before turning back and returning to the house. He wasn't a
marathon runner, nor a big exercise buff, so he didn't want to overdo it. He
also suffered from shin splints and had no desire to aggravate them from too
much running. He latched his iPod to his hip, put in his earphones, and started
to jog.
Rory couldn't help but notice as he hit the main road that something seemed a
little…off. He took out his earphones and listened to the silence of nature. It
occurred to him, however, that when someone was outdoors, there should still be
sound. The sound of wind rustling through the branches, birds singing, and bugs
chirping. There was none of that; it was silent.
The lack of noise was unsettling. It was foreboding even. Something so out of
the ordinary had to be linked to the banshee in some form. It was time to go
home, back to Sam, where he was safe.
Just as Rory reached the front porch, he heard an eerie cry in the air. It was
shrill and sounded pained and angry. Shivering, even in the heat, the teen
bolted inside, locking the door behind him and breathing heavily. He checked
his watch. It wasn't quite time for Sam to wake up yet. He decided in the
meantime to watch the TV to not only break the silence invading from the
outside, but to distract himself until Sam rose for the night. The entire time
he sat in front of the television, he could hear the faint squeal of the
banshee way off in distance. Every cry sent chills down his spine, but at the
same time a pulsing heat to his hands.
-ooo-
By the time Sam woke up, Rory had the volume on the surround sound up to a very
high level. It hurt his ears, the noise like someone beating drums right next
to his head. He covered his ears with his hands as he walked upstairs, finding
the teenager sitting on the couch, staring at the screen.
"Turn it down!" Sam shouted over the slam of the Hulk crashing into a building
as he fought with some alien creature. Rory didn't hear him at first, so Sam
dashed in front of him, hands still over his ears and shouting. Finally getting
the hint, the teen turned the volume down to a moderate level.
"Sorry Sam," Rory apologized, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't know it would
hurt ye'r ears like that."
Sam took the remote from him and muted the volume all the way, massaging his
temples to ward away a headache. "What's with the home theater? It sounded like
a war was going on in here."
"I wanted t'drown it out," the boy replied sheepishly. Sam looked at him,
confused. "The banshee. I wanted t'drown it out. I kept hearing her screaming,
o'er and o'er again. It kept giving me chills and making me hands warm up. I
was afraid I might…"
"Blow up?" the vampire finished for him. The boy nodded, a blush coloring his
cheeks.
"Pretty stupid I guess," Rory muttered.
Sam gave him a comforting smile and lifted the teen's chin with his fingertips.
"Don't worry about it. I get that you're scared, and you were by yourself.
Even I get chills from that demon, and I'm already cold."
Rory couldn't help but laugh at his boyfriend's attempt at comfort. The idea of
Sam getting chills was hilarious, since as he pointed out, his body was already
cooler than a normal person's, but it was just a reminder that although Sam was
a vampire, he still had a sense of fear. It was oddly comforting, knowing that
those traces of humanity were still so prevalent in the undead man.
"I wonder how Mike and Tina are doing at work," Rory said. "I wonder if they're
okay, if that banshee came back. I'd feel horrible if something happened to
them because o' me. Nobody is responding to me text messages or calls. I'm
worried."
Sam knew what the pleading look in the teen's eyes meant. Rory wanted him to
check on their friends, to make sure they were safe at work. To make sure the
banshee was nowhere around. "Stop, please," he begged as the ocean eyes tore at
his heartstrings. "I'll go check on them, but stay here. Don't leave
for any reason. I'm sure they're fine. Probably just busy and haven't had time
to respond."
"Okay, I promise. I just need t'know they aren't in danger. I 'ave some sort of
bad feeling," Rory said, his voice laced with worry. Sam smiled at him, kissed
him, and then stepped out of the door, running at top vampire speed. He had no
desire to leave Rory unattended any longer than he had to.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 9: You Got Me in a Trance *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: Only a couple more chapters to go. Things are about
     to heat up and go full speed ahead from here on out! Hang on to your
     hats my friends!

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 9: You Got Me in a Trance
Sam slowed down as he approached the Lima Bean. He wanted to 'scope out' the
place before going in. It sounded overly paranoid even to himself, but if the
banshee was indeed inside, he would be able to help much easier if nobody knew
he was there. The element of surprise was always an asset. On the other hand,
if the banshee was outside, nobody knew he was there except Rory. If she
overpowered him, that would be the end. Either way he wanted to make this a
reasonably short recon mission.
Sam was careful to stay hidden in the trees as he approached the café. From his
distant vantage point he was just able to peer through the windows and see that
Tina was happily waiting tables, while Kurt was bringing pastries out from the
kitchen to put in the display case. Mercedes wiped down the bar, the only
occupant being the strange man who had abruptly left during Sam's more recent
visit. Sam recalled that the man, Noah Puckerman as he learned his name was,
had the distinct scent of werewolf. It was a foul odor to him, like a dog that
had rolled around in dirt all day. It was a smell that no human could pick up,
and only certain non-humans could detect, vampires being one of them.
The vampire was about to worry where Mike was when he saw the Asian man emerge
from the hall where his office was located. He brought something out to Tina.
The pair of them began musing over it, her expression changing from chipper to
serious. Sam wondered if Mike had found out something new about the banshee, or
if it was even related to their current predicament.
Satisfied that their friends were safe, Sam wanted to get back to Rory as soon
as possible. He watched a moment more, and then turned around, taking off in a
run.
As he entered the woods surrounding his home, the one hundred-seventy-year-old
slammed into something firm and stumbled backward, barely catching himself from
falling. He took a moment to regain his senses and then look over the strange
object that had abruptly stopped his dash, his eyes widening in surprise. Who
the hell is she and why does she feel like a wall? he asked himself.
The 'thing' he had slammed into was actually a person, a woman. She was a head
shorter than him, even with the heels she appeared to be wearing. She wore a
very revealing latex outfit, all in black. Her boots stopped just below her
knees, the legs of her suit barely covering her thighs. Her stomach was exposed
but her ample bosom was fully covered except for her cleavage, the material
holding her chest firmly in place. She wore fingerless gloves that stopped
halfway up her forearms, altogether giving her a very dangerous, intimidating
look. Despite the fact that he hadn't checked out a female in quite a while,
Sam had to admit her body was flawless.
As his gaze returned to the woman's face he realized that she was the most
beautiful female he had ever seen. Her makeup was modest, accenting her eyes
and mouth, just the slightest bit of color in her cheeks. Her blonde hair was
streaked with dark pink and deep red and was pulled back in a tight ponytail,
her luscious red lips parted in a mocking smile. She gazed at the man before
her, her eyes showing signs of arousal and curiosity, the pupils glowing a
strange teal color.
"Hello, vampire," she said, her voice dripping with sex. As she spoke, he felt
himself beginning to feel turned on, a sensation he didn't understand at the
moment. Before he could ask who she was, why she was there, and how she
knew what he was, he felt a punch to his stomach. He doubled over just in time
to feel his forehead slamming into something while something else was pushing
down on his upper body. As he stumbled and fell back onto his rear he was able
to see the woman blurring back into focus.
"What the hell? Who are you? What do you want?" he demanded as he slowly got
back on his feet, never taking his eyes off of her. She hits like a train! Any
higher and she would have broken a rib! Something tells me this isn't going to
go well, he thought, a sense of dread falling over him.
"Does it matter? I am a succubus, and that's all you need to know, because I
will kill you, and any information learned will simply be useless to your
grotesque remains," she replied haughtily.
Sam found her confidence disturbing. She had already given him a few hearty
blows that could have completely incapacitated a human, giving him no doubt she
was more than capable of making good on her promise.
Before the vampire could argue or ask anymore questions, he felt absurdly icy
hands on his body, yanking him forward and around into a tree headfirst. He had
no time to recover before the frosty grip was around his throat, shoving his
face into the ground and dragging him as she ran, rock digging into his flesh.
He could taste dirt and gravel in his mouth as he spat on the ground, blood
coming out with it. For the first time in decades he felt a wave of fear surge
through his body.
"I was hoping you'd put up more of a fight you know," the woman taunted,
releasing her grip on his head. She stood back, arms crossed, watching him
struggle to get up. He was on one knee before she kicked his leg, then slammed
her fist into the back of his head, forcing him down to the ground once again.
"Is that the best you can do, vampire?"
"No," Sam groaned as he forced himself to get up, his entire body aching,
sticky blood running down the side of his face. The latex-clad woman went to
knock him down again, but he dodged and managed to kick her feet out from under
her, knocking her onto her back. She squealed in delight as he straddled her,
holding down her arms by her biceps. Goddamn, her arms feel like steel!
"Mmm, I like a man who can take control," she purred. "Come on, make Kitty
smile for you," she added, licking her lips. Her eyes glowed brighter and her
skin emanated some sort of scent that reminded Sam of strawberries and gave him
a renewed sense of arousal. He was in a fight, getting his ass kicked and
finally gaining an advantage and he was feeling a tingle in his pants. What was
wrong with him?
"Fuck you, lady!" Sam yelled back at her angrily, his grip feeling weaker.
"Let's get something straight! I-"
An instant later the vampire was up against a tree, Kitty's frozen hand around
his throat, holding him up despite her lack of height. "Yes, let's get
something straight, vampire. I will kill you. I will take your leprechaun, and
lucky for him, he's needed alive, otherwise I would play with him myself."
A surge of rage ran through Sam's body as Kitty made her threat. He kicked out,
managing to throw her off balance just enough to let go of him. He dropped to
the ground gasping. He hadn't the time to curse his body's habit of pulling in
air he no longer needed, as it took energy he couldn't spare at that moment. I
refuse to die! Not when Rory's in danger! I have to kill her first!
Kitty quickly got back to her feet, jamming her knee into Sam's crotch before
punching him under the chin, the force knocking him into the air. She grabbed
him by the foot as he rose above her head and then began to spin him around,
his head and back slamming into the trees around them, cracking the trunks with
each hit. He howled in pain as he felt himself colliding with the solid wood
over and over, his body weakening significantly.
The next thing he felt was his body flying through the air. Not the way he had
been in Kitty's grasp—her hand was no longer on his ankle. He was flying
freely, finally falling onto his side on the ground. He then heard what he
prayed he wouldn't hear.
"Leave him alone, ye' bitch!" bellowed the deep, Irish-accented voice of Rory
Flanagan. Sam could barely see a bright flash of light and then heard a scream
from Kitty. He saw a second and a third flash, heard more screams and angry
shouts from his boyfriend in both English and what he assumed was Gaelic.
Sam struggled to get up on all fours, a new wave of anger building up in him.
"What are you doing!? Get out of here, now!" he ordered, his eyes cutting
toward Rory. "Get the hell out of here!" What is he thinking?! All this shit
we're going through to protect him and he's gonna come out here on his own and
start blasting crazy people! Damn you! Get out of here now! Many more
incoherent thoughts raced through his head, most of them sheer frustration at
just about everything going on at the moment, and a good bit of it nothing but
pure fear.
"I can't leave ye' here," Rory said, kneeling down on one knee in front of Sam.
"I know I shouldn't 'ave come but I—"
He was interrupted by a frosted hand grabbing him by the back of his shirt and
yanking him off of his feet. He flew backward and hit a tree, falling forward
onto his hands and knees. Kitty stood in front of Sam, gloating and then
kicking him in the face with her heel.
"You two really think you can take me down with your little fireworks show?
Really?" Kitty tittered, shaking her head. "Please. I'm a succubus. The
mistress would never allow someone weak to kill for her." She shrugged and
smiled, licking her lips again. "I really wish I could hurt this little brat.
Those blasts stung like a bitch." Her eyes returned to their aqua glow, the
scent of strawberries filling the air once more. Rory, however, felt nothing at
all, unlike Sam who was once again feeling a tingle in his groin.
Rory was crawling on the ground, his vision slightly blurry, his head light
from where he had slammed it against the trunk. He tried to focus but couldn't
even feel his hands warming up. He could still hear, but it sounded hollow,
like he was in a tunnel. Oh me God! I'm going to die! And she's gonna kill Sam!
Because of me! He's gonna die and it's my fault! he thought.
"Then again, she said don't kill him. She didn't say I couldn't smack him
around a bit," the woman said, marching over toward the injured boy. She bent
down to grab him by the head, but she was suddenly thrown sideways, and then
upward into the branches, slammed back down to the ground, and kicked several
times in the chest. She had no time to react as a blur, no, two blurs buzzed
around her, kicking and punching various parts of her body. When the action
stopped, Kitty was face down on the ground.
"What the fuck?!" she screeched, picking herself up off of the ground. Her eyes
shifted to a bright red from rage. "Who's there?! You have some fucking balls
to hit me!"
Her answer was in the form of the two blurs moving upon her again. She felt
herself being hit in the back, forcing her to stumble forward. Something caught
her arm and slung her around right into a tree, the mighty oak splitting right
down the center with the impact. She had no time to recover as she was tossed
into the air, meeting a cold grip and being thrown into the ground, something
heavy landing on top of her.
"Had enough yet?" a voice asked in French. "Ready to surrender, or should I
kill you now?"
"I don't surrender!" she barked, her French a little rusty. A smirk crossed the
face of the man who had spoken to her as he dashed forward, lifting her off of
the ground and charging her headfirst into another large tree. The resulting
crack echoed like thunder, the trunk splintering into hundreds of shards.
Kitty screamed, more from anger than pain. At this point she was outnumbered
despite the fact that two of her adversaries were all but incapacitated. She
screamed one more time as a blast of white-hot light smacked her in the side.
The succubus quickly rose from the ground, not wanting to chance another
surprise attack. She backed up against a tree as she surveyed the scene. The
vampire was flat on his face, bloodied and broken. He was struggling to getup
and failing miserably. The leprechaun was still on his butt, leaning against a
tree for support. He looked to be very weak and dizzy, his outstretched hand
wavering. She didn't recognize the other two figures in front of her, but she
could sense they were vampires.
"This isn't over cocksuckers!" Kitty bellowed. She turned tail and fled at top
speed, her screeches of rage filling the night air as she returned to wherever
she had come from.
Sam looked up to see what had subdued their attacker, his eyes hazy and his
chest aching as his body struggled to catch breaths he didn't need. The sight
of his saviors only verified for him who had come to their rescue. The properly
spoken French had been enough of a clue, and now he saw the sheriff and his
progeny standing in the middle of the forest and it made him feel sick to his
stomach.
"Sebastian. Santana," Sam said flatly. Sebastian stood before him, smirking,
his tie and blazer still neatly pressed as if he hadn't just been fighting.
Santana stood next to him, a look of annoyance on her face. Her skintight
leather pants squeaked slightly as she shifted her weight from one hip to the
other.
"Good evening, Samuel. Having a little trouble?" Sebastian snickered. He held
out his hand to help the younger man onto his feet. Sam reluctantly took the
offered hand but still struggled as he rose, every part of his body in pain. He
was able to stand, but was leaning over slightly, one hand on his abdomen and
the other on his hip, supporting him. "Aren't you going to thank me?"
The younger vampire sighed, and muttered his gratitude. Inside, he really was
grateful, but he wished that it had been anyone but Sebastian to come to his
rescue. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was for the sheriff to see
him weak or to feel as if he owed him something in return.
"Santana, take care of Mr. Evans. He looks a little disheveled," the sheriff
ordered as he turned away, walking toward the dizzied teenaged human-leprechaun
hybrid. Santana rolled her eyes but obliged, moving closer and lifting the
bottom of Sam's shirt to inspect him. He shoved her hand away, glaring.
"You really are an ungrateful brat, Sam," Santana scolded coldly. "Quit being a
drama queen and let me…. Oh this pains me to even say… let me help you."
Sebastian knelt down in front of Rory, a look of genuine sadness on his face.
He held out both hands for the teen to take. "Come on, let's stand up now," the
man said with an unusually caring tone. Rory grasped the sheriff's hands and
slowly stood up, his head spinning, his vision and hearing still slightly off
from the impact on his head. Sebastian caressed the boy's cheek with the back
of his hand, smiling ever so slightly. "Still a beautiful boy. Are you
alright?"
Rory felt sick and wanted to vomit. It wasn't from Sebastian, however. It was
from the way his head felt. He turned away, bent over, and threw up beside the
tree he had hit, embarrassed.
"Here, drink some of my blood. It'll help heal you," Sebastian offered,
slitting his wrist open and holding it out for him as the boy turned back
around.
Rory looked up at him with big eyes. "No, I can't. Sam told me what happens if
I drink from someone else," he said softly.
Sebastian smiled the grin of a cunning cat. "Well, you need some medical
attention, and right now, he can't exactly provide it. He needs his strength.
You'll need to drink from me to heal faster."
The teen closed his eyes and sighed. He then gently pushed the sheriff's arm
away. "I'm sorry. I appreciate what ye'r offering, but I can't. I'll heal on me
own." Sam let out a sigh of relief as he overheard their conversation.
Sebastian could be manipulative, but fortunately Rory was still on top of his
game.
"Stubborn, but the offer is on the table if you change your mind," Sebastian
stated, slightly hurt. The wound on his wrist healed up in a matter of seconds.
He lifted his forearm to his mouth, licked it clean, and pulled the cuff of his
blazer back down proper. He then turned back around to address his progeny. "We
need to get to safety. To Sam's home. Santana, you assist him, and I'll take
care of our human friend." He nodded at Sam, who was greatly annoyed at being
coddled.
"Come on," Santana huffed, pulling Sam's arm around her shoulders. "Let's get
this over with. It's humiliating having to carry you around like a dead trout,"
the woman grumbled. Normally Sam would have shoved her off, declined her
assistance, but truth be told, he needed the help right then. He also knew that
Santana had no choice but to follow her maker's orders and by denying her he
would have been causing more of a problem between maker and progeny than was
necessary.
Sebastian on the other hand gently pulled Rory into his arms and with a shift
of weight, picked him up to carry him like a child. It was then that the boy
lost consciousness.
"He's passed out. When we get to your house we can put him to bed. Rest will
cure him, in time," Sebastian stated, glancing back at Sam. Sam wanted to run
up to his boyfriend and take him into his own arms, away from Sebastian. Sam
was far too weak, however and watched helplessly as the older man carried the
boy in his arms.
Santana was annoyed, but she was also incredibly observant. It hadn't gone
unnoticed how gentle and caring her maker had been with the human. Sebastian
was never like that with anyone, not even her. It gave her pangs of jealously
seeing him cater to the boy.
As Sebastian strolled through the woods, his young charge in his arms, he
couldn't help but nuzzle his chin against the teen's head. He smelled so good
despite having just been thrown into a tree. His eyes focused on Rory's mouth,
the boy's lips crying for attention. If only he could take just one kiss from
him, but Sam would risk the true death to keep his human from being defiled.
-ooo-
Sebastian gently laid Rory down on the bed in the basement. He carefully slid
off the boy's shoes, socks, and pants, and then his shirt, leaving only his
boxer shorts on. Rory was so deeply conked out that he didn't even wake as the
shirt was pulled over his head. The sheriff looked at the beautiful boy, laying
on the bed, vulnerable. Even wounded the teen was enticing. Sebastian cursed
Sam for having forbade the teen to drink from him.
The sheriff walked away and returned a moment later with a washcloth and a
basin of warm water. Kneeling at Rory's side, he carefully wiped the dirt and
blood from the teen's face, smoothing the disheveled hair back from his
forehead and caressing his cheeks. Sebastian hadn't felt the sort of emotions
he was feeling for Rory in a long, long time. He found him delicious looking,
but he also found him genuinely intriguing and not just because of his unique
abilities. Rory was kind but assertive. He was innocent and pure. Sebastian
felt a sort of protectiveness over him and even affection. Rory wasn't like the
other men and women he pursued. They were all toys for him to play with and get
his rocks off. This boy was someone he felt like he was growing to care about.
The idea that he might be developing romantic feelings for a human made him
feel ill. It wasn't the boy himself, it was the knowledge that someday the teen
would grow old and die, ninety years max, and that was just a blink of an eye
in a vampire's lifetime. The pain that came with love and affection could be
very damaging, and part of the reason Sebastian had lived so long was because
he had total control over his emotions. He was logical and smart, manipulative
and cunning. Even still, Santana had conned him into turning her. He couldn't
allow this human to also break him of his control.
Despite these distracting thoughts, Sebastian finished his task, stood up to
leave, and paused. He leaned down and gently placed his lips on the unconscious
boy's. He didn't move to do anything except press their lips together for a
moment. I just want to feel them against mine, just for a moment, he thought.
He broke the kiss after a few seconds and then scurried back upstairs. He had
Sam to take care of next, a task he knew his progeny had no desire to assist
in.
-ooo-
"Your boyfriend is safely in bed, wounds catered to," came the taunting voice
of Sam's least favorite person. "He'll need time to heal, which could be solved
if you let him drink from me since you're too weak right now."
"Get out of my bathroom, Sebastian," Sam groaned as the sheriff entered without
knocking. Sam was lying back in the bathtub, the water steaming hot and tinted
slightly red. Every part of his body ached. He was covered in bruises and cuts.
His teeth hurt from having his head slammed around face first and his groin was
still tender from the brutal knee to his balls. Even a vampire would need
extended time to recover from so many injuries. His healing blood could only
work but so quickly.
"That's not exactly a friendly greeting for someone who just saved your life,"
Sebastian said coolly. "At the very least a 'thank you' would be nice."
The younger vampire sighed. "Thank you for your timely deliverance, Sebastian,"
he said thinly.
"It must burn you up that the person you hate so much is the one who just saved
your ass from the true death," Sebastian taunted with a smile.
Sam rolled his eyes, refusing to admit that Sebastian was exactly right.
It did irritate him that of all people to come to his aid, it had to be
Sebastian and Santana. He barely tolerated their existence because one was his
sheriff; the other was the sheriff's progeny.
"I know we don't like each other, Samuel, but you have to admit, we have a
common interest here. Rory's safety and the defeat of the banshee," the sheriff
pointed out. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, his eyes wandering down for
a moment. "Hmm…Impressive," he said seductively, nodding toward Sam's crotch.
"Shut up," Sam hissed. Sebastian giggled, dragging his fingertips through the
water near his subordinate's shin. "Just because we have to work together
doesn't mean I have to like it. This is my home, so don't forget who's in
charge here."
Sebastian threw his head back in a loud scoff. "Don't forget, kid, I'm the
sheriff. I'm in charge whether you like it or not. Don't piss me off, or else
I'll take that hybrid from you and have you bound in silver and your fangs
removed for treason!" His remarks came across as joking, but in a very evil
tone. It was not above him to pull rank, although he was lying about the
extremes he would go to. Sebastian had no desire to silver Sam or remove his
fangs. All he really wanted was Rory. Torturing other vampires was something he
wanted no part in, but it surely made for a chilling threat.
"Let's call a truce for now, how does that suit you?" the elder suggested. "We
work together long enough to secure the young man and send this banshee and her
crew packing for hell, and then we'll go back to how things were before. I may
be controlling and manipulative, but I'm as concerned for the boy's safety as
you are."
Sam closed his eyes and mulled it over. He didn't have much choice. He could
work with Sebastian and have things go smoothly, or he could work against him
and have everything go all to hell. Truth be told, it worked to his and Rory's
advantage to have a thousand-six-hundred-twenty-three-year-old vampire in their
corner. The older a vampire was, the stronger he was. On top of that they had
Santana, who was only ten years older than Sam himself, but she was still an
asset.
"Fine. Truce. But if you so much as even try to violate Rory, I call it off,
and we handle things like men," Sam declared. He held out his dripping hand.
"Agreed?"
Sebastian reached forward and shook the other man's hand. "Fine. Agreed." He
stood up and walked away, pausing at the doorframe. "You know Samuel, it's a
shame we don't like each other. You're very handsome, and well endowed, the
type of man I enjoy between my sheets."
"Fuck you," Sam barked. "Go on, leave me alone to finish my suffering in this
bath," he added. He didn't wait for the other man to finish leaving before
closing his eyes and once again getting comfortable against the tub. The
steaming water soothed his aching muscles, and he took solace in the knowledge
that Rory was all right.
Sebastian paused, addressing his ally. "Maybe someday you can explain to me why
you're so hostile toward me. You have always had such animosity toward me, and
I have merely reciprocated it, but I honestly have no idea why you feel such
burning hatred for me."
The younger vampire sighed, not really feeling like going through the
conversation, but in an act of appreciation for Sebastian's care of Rory, he
decided to concede. "At first it was Santana who made me dislike you both.
After time passed and I got to know you, I disliked your haughty attitude and
sense of entitlement."
"Somehow I doubt that's the entire truth, Samuel. Your hate goes deeper than
that. There's something much more significant, and someday I will get it out of
you. Know this, however, Samuel: I do not hate you. I dislike your attitude
toward me, and your sense of entitlement. You act like you deserve some sort of
award for mainstreaming and I find it rather arrogant. Even through that, I
don't hate you. I actually find you… intriguing," the sheriff admitted, his
eyes filled with sincerity.
"Good to know. Maybe someday we can have a real conversation like men, but
right now, we have one goal, and that's to protect Rory. Other than that, I
have no interest in anything else. Now please, leave me alone."
Sebastian said nothing at first and took one last look at the toned body of the
younger vampire, noting one more time just how well endowed he was. Before he
finally left the bathroom, he gave Sam a parting word. "Jealousy does not
become you, Samuel. Keep that in mind." He smirked and chuckled, then walked
out of the door, leaving it wide open in an act of rudeness.
-ooo-
Sam finished his bath and dried off, feeling much cleaner but still incredibly
weak. His body continued to ache, his head was pounding, and the bruises hadn't
started fading yet. He cursed under his breath, angry that he had been defeated
so easily. Upon reflection, however, it wasn't like Sam had done an excessive
amount of fighting in his years as a vampire. In the past, most situations were
easily resolved with glamour or by subduing a human physically, but not
violently. He had only fought a couple of other vampires, but those incidents
turned out much better than this one. Despite his limited fighting record, Sam
nevertheless took pride in his physique, just as toned and strong as the day he
was turned, the muscles of a hardworking man. Unfortunately, that didn't
automatically make him a skilled fighter.
The light in the basement was off, leaving the room in darkness. Of course,
that made little difference since his ability to see in the dark was very good.
He sat on the edge of the bed, next to his resting boyfriend. He reached over
and held the teen's hand, more for his own comfort than for Rory's. He smiled
when he felt the boy squeeze his hand back.
"Sam…are ye' okay?" Rory asked quietly as his eyes fluttered open.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Sam apologized. "I've felt better, but I'll
be fine. I just need to rest."
Rory sat up as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could see the
discoloration on Sam's skin, even though he couldn't tell that it was deep
purple. He let his fingers brush the strange splotches, Sam wincing as he did
so.
"Ye'r not okay. Ye'r hurt," the teen insisted. "Do ye' need to drink? Ye' can
drink from me if it'll help," he offered, tilting his head sideways. "Go on,
ye' need it, don't ye'?"
Sam pulled the boy into his arms instead, kissing him on the neck. "No, you
need every bit of your strength. I'll be fine, it just takes a while when a
vampire gets their ass handed to them in a fight like that." He chuckled
lightly, hoping it would convince the teen not to worry.
"In fact…I think it might do you some good to drink from me," Sam said, biting
his wrist. "But just a little bit. I can't afford to lose but so much." A look
of worry crossed Rory's features, the teen shaking his head.
"No, ye' need it! I can't be takin' ye'r bloo—" Rory's sentence was cut off as
Sam shoved his now-bleeding wrist against the boy's mouth, holding Rory's head
in place so he couldn't pull away.
Rory tasted the blood as it hit his tongue and began to drain down his throat.
It was just as he remembered it from the first time he had drunk from his
boyfriend. As the red liquid hit his stomach, he could feel the energy of it
starting to take effect; a slight tingle through his veins, a warmth flowing
through his body.
"That's all I can manage," Sam said after a couple of minutes. He pulled back
his wrist, bringing it to his lips to lick it clean. He leaned forward and
kissed the boy, tasting his own blood as he drew the boy's tongue into his
mouth. They kissed passionately for several minutes, their hands wandering over
one another. Both teens were erect, straining their garments, but they were far
too tired to engage in sex. Instead they simply felt secure just being so close
to one another.
The last thing Rory remembered was Sam lying down with him, stroking his hair.
When he awoke the next morning, he wasn't surprised to discover that Sam wasn't
next to him. He glanced over toward Sam's own 'bed' but the coffin was closed
up tight. He felt pangs of disappointment fall over him as it sank into him yet
again that they would never wake up next to one another.
-ooo-
Rory felt strangely energized after getting out of bed and trotting upstairs.
He wasn't certain, but it was most likely a side effect from Sam's blood. He
tried to remember what it had been like that first night, but the memory was
foggy. Of course, he had been a hairsbreadth away from death at the time. They
had taken each other's life force since then, but like any other experience in
life, nothing compared to the memory of that first time.
Rory had no desire whatsoever to go outside for fear that the creature that had
attacked Sam would be lurking out there. It claimed to be something other than
a vampire, a word he wasn't familiar with.
"What was it she said….?" The teen asked aloud to an empty house. "A suck cube?
Suck cube dish? No, that wasn't it. Sucker bitch?" He couldn't help but giggle
at his last suggestion. The woman had indeed been a bitch. "Suck a… Suck a…."
-ooo-
"Succubus?" Mike repeated as Tina gave him the information Sebastian had left
for them. Unaware of the location of either shifter's home, Sebastian had
simply left a note in their mailbox at the Lima Bean. It was in an envelope and
looked like any ordinary letter. Tina opened it and began to read the words
neatly printed on stationery emblazoned with the sheriff's name. It was a short
recount of the night's events, including the attack on Sam as well as Rory's
attempt to fight. He also left for them a word to research: succubus.
"I can guarantee the jerk knows what it is, he just want's to screw with us,"
Tina declared, frowning at the piece of paper. It was unlike her to be so
harsh, but she had witnessed the way he and Sam interacted first hand, and it
left her with a sour taste in her mouth. Sebastian was arrogant, bossy, and
rude.
"Maybe he isn't wanting us to research it. Maybe he just wants us to know what
it is," Mike suggested. He was surprised at Tina's words, but he also
understood she was most likely projecting her frustration on the most
convenient victim. "Of course, I have no idea what a succubus is, do you?"
Tina nodded. "Yes. It's a demon that rapes men in the night, draining their
life from them and using it to sustain her own. Somehow they also impregnate
themselves so they can give birth to human-demon hybrids," she said matter-of-
factly. "I thought they were just myths like everything else, but apparently at
least one exists." She shuddered at the very thought that a succubus was out
there, possibly a threat to her own boyfriend if the creature saw fit.
"So, we have this banshee, whose voice can somehow hypnotize people, and a
succubus who has super strength and speed and also rapes men in their sleep.
Great," the man replied sarcastically. He sighed, closed his eyes, and tilted
his head back. "Suddenly I feel a migraine."
Tina massaged the man's shoulders for a moment before she slipped out of the
office door. She had an idea. She walked toward the kitchen where Kurt was
busily baking a new batch of cookies for the display case. She lightly tapped
him on the shoulder, not wanting to scare him as he shuffled back and forth
dancing and singing along to his iPod.
"Huh? Oh, hey," Kurt said, pulling out his earbuds and muting the iPod. "I'm
almost done with these and already started the honey buns if that's what you
came to ask about," he added.
The Asian woman shook her head. "No, not that. I actually have a small favor to
ask you," she said, smiling her sweetest grin. Kurt just looked back at her
with defeat of a battle they didn't even bother to fight. "It looks like some
big baddie is giving Sam and Rory some trouble, and we want to know how to
destroy it. We were hoping that maybe Blaine can help, what with his magic and
all."
Kurt considered the question for several moments, leaving Tina in suspense. He
busied himself with rolling the honey buns while he thought. "I don't like the
idea of involving Blaine with all this….mumbo jumbo. I really don't care that
the thing is bothering Sam," he stated coldly. After a moment he turned to face
his friend. "However, Rory is my friend, and if this thing is messing with him,
then we gotta stop it. I don't really appreciate that it hypnotized every human
in here, including myself. Who knows what the crazy wench could have done to
us. I almost wish you never told us anything about it at all. Ignorance is
bliss, and I would prefer to reach nirvana."
"So you'll ask him if he'll help us? It helps you, too. You won't be in danger
anymore either. If she stays around, next time none of us might be so lucky to
live," Tina urged hopefully. Kurt rolled his eyes halfway and nodded. The
gracious woman wrapped her arms around Kurt, hugging him. "You're the best,
Kurt!
"Yeah, yeah," Kurt muttered, waving her off. "I'll call him as soon as I'm done
rolling these buns. I'm gonna warn you though; if so much as a hair on his head
is out of place, somebody loses something precious. Got me?"
Tina continued to smile, triumphant. "Yes, He'll be fine, we just need to talk
to him and see what he can tell us," she emphasized. "He won't be going out to
fight it or anything." She couldn't help but giggle while resisting the urge to
point out that Blaine wore so much gel in his hair that any creature would find
it quite the challenge to harm a single strand on the Wiccan's head.
Kurt scoffed, irritated. "I said I'd call him. But when I say he better not get
involved with anything dangerous, I mean it."
Tina smiled and left the room, returning to Mike to fill him in on what Kurt's
answer to her question had been.
-ooo-
"This place is really creepy," Kurt said, shuddering as he looked up at the
old-style mansion of Samuel Evans. Mike had given Kurt the address after
talking with him, asking for Blaine to accompany him to Sam's home.
"I think it looks kind of neat," Blaine noted, his eyes roving over the front
of the house. Had there been no lights in the windows, it may have looked
haunted to an unwelcome guest, but dim light shone through the curtains. "It's
different. Rustic. I wonder how old it is."
"It's old enough, now let's get this over with so we can get out of here. This
place gives me the creeps," Mercedes said, standing close to Kurt for comfort.
She too had goosebumps up and down her arms. The young woman had agreed to come
with her friends out of curiosity and concern for their safety. Kurt knocked on
the door, his knuckles rapping loudly on the thick wood. A moment later, Rory
answered, smiling.
"Hello! Come on in," he greeted them excitedly. "I'm so glad ye' came. It's
such a nice house, and ye' can get to know Sam better," the teen exclaimed. He
hugged each of his friends, including Blaine. He didn't know Blaine that well,
but the man was always nice to him and very cheerful. "Sam's in his study, so
just follow me."
All three visitors let their eyes wander around their surroundings as they
followed their younger friend, observing the old décor and style of
craftsmanship. Blaine ran his fingers along the polished wooden trim, pausing
to observe the details of the foyer.
Kurt, on the other hand, seemed entirely uninterested. Instead, the teen had
his hand tightly clasped with Blaine's, his nerves more than a little out of
sorts. I'm in the lion's den! If I weren't an atheist, I would be praying about
now.
Mercedes casually glanced around, impressed that a man could keep a home clean
and presentable. She still wasn't entirely keen on being inside a vampire's
lair, but she had to admit it did have a certain homey atmosphere.
Rory opened the study door, leading the trio behind him into the room. "Sam,
our friends are here," he announced politely.
Sam looked up from his desk, sliding whatever he had been reading underneath an
old leather notebook. Rory gave him a knowing wink, aware that Sam was hiding a
comic book and not some private information.
"Welcome," the vampire said, standing up and leaning over his desk to shake the
hand of each guest. "I appreciate you all coming."
"Yeah, no problem," Kurt said flatly. "Mike didn't give us much information on
why you needed us here, so why are we here?" Sam could sense the annoyance in
the young man's harsh demeanor. It was a shame Kurt insisted on being so
distant with him and it made him a little sad. He wanted to be friends with
Rory's friends as well, and so far it looked like Tina was the only one willing
to entertain the idea.
"Yes, of course. What we really needed was Blaine," Sam replied, looking toward
the black-haired man with the bowtie and vest. "Rory tells me you're a
practitioner of witchcraft. A Wiccan."
Blaine nodded. "Yes. I'm pretty good with it. I've been studying since I was a
kid, and been mentored by a very experienced coven. Why?"
Sam smiled softly, putting the man at ease. "I don't know if you've been told,
but we have a little bit of a problem. You see, an ancient and mystical
creature has decided to pay us a visit. It's called a banshee, a wailing spirit
that, among other things, can kill with her voice."
"I've heard of them before, in stories. I never thought…" Blaine trailed off.
He shook his head and sighed. "I guess it's logical though. If vampires exist,
why not a banshee? But what do you want with me?"
Sam approached Blaine, stepping from behind the desk. He took one of the man's
hands and held it between his own, gazing into his eyes. "We need your help. If
you're truly as skilled as you say, we can use your abilities in magic to help
us take on this creature."
"Hey, wait a minute!" Kurt piped up loudly. "Mike promised me Blaine
would not be in the line of fire! He said Blaine wasn't going into any fights
or anything like that!" He took Blaine's arm protectively, yanking him back
away from Sam, who let Blaine's hand drop.
"Don't worry, Kurt. I don't want him in danger either. Ideally what we need is
protection. We need to make this as safe of a haven as possible. We need
whatever protective spells you can manage," Sam said, looking from Blaine to
Kurt and back. "We also need to find out if there's anything you know that can
help subdue the creature, or weaken it. A potion or other concoction if
possible."
The room was silent a moment. Rory and Mercedes watched the exchange with great
interest, unaware of what the decision would be. Mercedes knew Blaine almost as
well as Kurt. She knew that Blaine was much more of an accepting sort of
person, much quicker to believe in strange things, definitely not like Kurt who
based everything on what he could see or what he had heard. His knowledge
wasn't always the most informed, but Blaine on the other hand kept himself as
in the loop as much as possible. She almost laughed, amused by her own train of
thought as she realized how it sounded. In fact, she agreed more with Kurt's
way of perceiving things than Blaine's yet here she was, considering the Wiccan
man to be the better of the group.
"Kurt, calm down, please. I can take care of myself. I don't know what it is,
but something makes me trust this man," Blaine said, looking Kurt in the eyes.
"Look at me. Don't you see? It'll be okay."
"How do we know he didn't put that glamour spell on you to make you do what he
wants?" Kurt demanded harshly. "He's a vampire, and he wants something from
you. There's no reason he wouldn't do that to get what he wants." He gazed past
his boyfriend and over at the vampire. Sam was simply standing there, watching
and waiting patiently. It was a little unnerving that he was so quiet.
"Sam wouldn't do that," Rory stepped in. "It's against his morals. Ye' 'ave to
trust me. He can't glamour me even if he wanted to, so please, Kurt,
trust me even if ye' don't trust him. He won't put Blaine in danger."
Kurt huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine," was all he said. Rory
offered him a sincere and thankful smile. There was something about Rory that
when he grinned, it put someone at ease and so few could resist his charms.
Before their conversation could pick back up, there was a loud scream that
seemed to come from outside. Sam and Rory exchanged frightened glances, the
sound sending chills down both of their spines.
"What the hell was that!?" Mercedes screeched. "That doesn't sound human!"
"Stay here," Sam ordered.
Ignoring his command, Rory followed Sam into the hall. His boyfriend was
standing in the doorframe, his eyes locked on the young blonde woman from
before—the succubus. She was dressed just as provocatively as before, her
bodysuit just barely covering her breasts and groin. In fact there was most
likely more material used in her boots than the rest of her outfit combined. It
looked to be made of the same black latex as her previous uniform. She had a
wicked grin on her face as she looked at Sam.
"Hi there," Kitty said in a childlike tone, waving her hand tauntingly.
Sam glared at her coldly. "Leave. You have no right to be here," he declared
confidently. Unfortunately, unlike vampires, a succubus did not need an
invitation to come inside a home. She rushed up closely to him, their faces
only inches apart. She traced her finger down Sam's chest seductively.
"Looks like you recovered well. You're a poor fighter. Not much of a challenge
at all," the woman cooed. She leaned forward and kissed the man on the lips,
causing him to jerk back in disgust. The contact had been just enough, however,
to leave him a little dizzy. He held his head in his hands, trying to make the
world stop spinning.
"Get ye'r nasty mouth off o' him!" Rory bellowed, appearing in the hall. Sam
stumbled back, getting ready to guard his boyfriend the best he could in his
woozy state. Rory stepped in front of him however, his hands already glowing
with golden light. He threw one hand in front of himself, sending a blast of
energy toward Kitty. She went to dodge, avoiding that burst, but felt the hot
slam of a second blast she hadn't been expecting.
Kitty grunted loudly, bending over slightly at the injury on her abdomen. It
burned like fire and cold all at once. She felt slow, as if her speed was
reduced to that of a normal human. She started to back up, but a much stronger
burst of energy hit her square in the chest, throwing her backward into the
front yard.
"Get. Out. Of. Here!" Rory yelled. He shot another blast at her between each
word, hitting her in the shoulder, the knee, her head, and her chest again. She
screamed with each hit, feeling her body ache and burn.
"Stop it!" she cried out. "You can't do this to me you little shit!"
"Oh yes I can!" Rory geared up for another barrage of attacks, but he paused,
another light forming between himself and Kitty. Something that looked like a
row of glitter fell from the sky, landing in front of them just outside the
house, a wall of light forming beneath the shimmering wave. The wall seemed to
cross the entire front of the house, curving around the side and most likely
around the back, surrounding the mansion.
"What's going on?" Sam asked, having finally recuperated. He stepped out onto
the porch, cocking his head as he observed the sheen of light. He reached out
and touched it with his fingertip. He jerked his hand back quickly. "Ouch! What
the-!?"
"Don't touch it," came Blaine's calm voice. "It's a barrier, a protective
shell. It'll keep her out. It stings a little from this side, but if anyone
touches it from outside…"
He didn't need to explain what would have happened because a moment later Kitty
approached and demonstrated for him. She punched the wall with her fist and was
thrown backward, sparks flying brightly, bolts of electricity crackling where
her clenched hand had hit.
"That happens," Blaine finished.
Rory's mouth fell open in awe. "How did ye' do that?" he managed to ask.
"I told you, I have very good mentors, and more skill than you might think,"
Blaine replied smugly. "Sorry, I'm not usually so cocky, but I haven't exactly
had a chance to use any of this stuff."
The succubus screamed angrily at the top of her lungs. She grabbed a thick tree
branch and threw it at the barrier. The same thing happened. It was thrown
backward in a shower of sparks and electrical cracks.
"Clever, warlock. You can't keep me out forever. I'll be back, with friends,"
she hissed in true overly-dramatic style. She turned to leave, her body moving
more slowly than usual. She was still fast enough to outrun a human, but not
quite yet a blur before their eyes.
When they could no longer see her, everyone stepped back into the foyer, Sam
shutting and locking the door. "Good job, Blaine. Thank you," the vampire said
with a smile. "That was amazing."
"See, Kurt? That's why it's important he help us," Rory said to his friend. "He
can help keep us safe. That's a pretty amazing thing he just did. We need him."
Kurt merely pursed his lips together, defeated. Blaine put his arms around him
and squeezed tight, leaning his head on the other teen's shoulder. "Everything
will be okay. I want to help them. They're our friends," he said. Kurt sighed
and whispered something into his boyfriend's ear, something nobody else was
able to hear.
When the two boys parted from each other, Sam addressed the warlock. "How long
will this barrier last?"
Blaine shrugged. "I…I don't know, actually. Like I said, I never actually got
to use this magic before so I'm not a hundred percent sure of anything. All I
know is, as long as that barrier holds, nothing is getting in here." His gaze
went from the vampire to the leprechaun, fear and apprehension in their eyes.
"I'm sorry, I wish I could give you more reassurance than that."
Sam approached the teen and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "No, it's
alright. Trust me, we appreciate what you've done. And what you may have to do
in the future. I don't want you in danger, but we can use your magic."
Blaine nodded and smiled weakly. He felt anything but confident, despite what
he appeared to be to everyone else.
"So now what?" Mercedes asked, speaking for the first time since all the action
had taken place. She had followed Sam's direction and stayed put, despite the
commotion outside. She had watched through the window, horrified. "If we go out
there, we risk getting mauled by that…whatever she is."
"I have plenty of rooms here that you can use. If you go upstairs, you'll find
them down the left hall. I don't have a lot of amenities, but I open my home to
you all," the vampire replied.
Mercedes looked unsure, the idea of being locked up with a vampire not exactly
settling well with her, but it appeared they had no choice. "Thanks," she
offered. She walked past the group and up the stairs, pausing in the middle. "I
think I'll get some rest. All this craziness is getting to me." And I hope when
I wake up I will be at home in my soft bed, my poster of LL Cool J in his
drawers smiling at me and momma with a nice breakfast on the table.
"Sleep well. If you need anything at all, let me know," Sam replied, watching
as she finished her way up the stairs and turned to the left, seeking out a
room.
"Do you expect us to just stay here forever? We can't just live here, you know.
We have lives to get back to. Jobs. Family. Friends. What do you propose we do
about that?" Kurt demanded, his glare turning cold again.
Sam looked down at the floor. The truth was, he had no answer for that. At this
point they were playing everything by ear, with no real plan. His intentions
tonight had been simply to recruit Blaine's assistance, but now that they had
it, and now that they were under a hardcore protection spell, he had no clue
what was next on the agenda. The thing was, everyone was looking to him to be
the leader. He was the oldest, and it was his house, and he was surely the
strongest of the group, at least physically. He was supposed to be the one with
all the answers, all the plans. It was he who was supposed to lead them into
some sort of supernatural battle against not one, but two mythological
creatures.
"Calm down, Kurt, please," Blaine pleaded, taking his boyfriend's hand in an
effort to soothe him. "We just need some time to think. I have a feeling nobody
expected that crazy woman to show up here, so we have to stop and reconsider
the situation."
Kurt pursed his lips in annoyance, but a gentle smile from Blaine calmed him
down slightly. He said nothing, which was the best option since he had nothing
to contribute but a bunch of hostile demands.
"Sam, I really don't know how long this barrier is going to hold. I don't know
if it'll even hold without me here. I have to be honest. I know the spells, but
I don't necessarily know all the details like that. I'm sorry," Blaine
apologized again, giving the vampire a sincere look of self-doubt.
"Don't apologize. I'm thankful for what you do know. That right there saved our
lives just now," Sam replied. He then looked over at his noticeably tired
boyfriend. "And Rory, you were amazing as well. Between the two of you, we have
a good chance of defeating this banshee and this succubus." He then addressed
all three of the teenagers. "I hate to tell you, but I don't have a plan. I
thought this would be a safe haven while we did some more research and found a
way to end the banshee's threat. Kitty threw a wrench into that. Now I don't
know what to do." He sighed and let his shoulders slack, his eyes weary and
sad.
Rory approached him, wrapping himself around Sam in a loose hug. "For now, what
else can we do? Ye' said we need t'research, so we research. We 'ave to do that
anyway. Maybe Blaine can look into the finer details of his magic and Kurt and
Mercedes can help us search for banshee information. At least until we get an
idea o' what t'do next. I don't really want anyone to leave until we know it's
safe…"
Kurt rolled his eyes and started toward the staircase. "Whatever. We're
obviously trapped here for a while and since I don't have any 'special powers'
I'm just going to bed," he said sourly, his sarcasm thick as he mentioned
special powers. "Us plain Jane's need our beauty sleep!"
The warlock snagged his boyfriend's hand and pulled him close. "It's gonna be
okay. It's to help Rory, and the rest of us, too. The sooner we figure this
thing out, the sooner we can go back to our regular lives so keep your chin up,
eh?" Not waiting for a reply, he kissed Kurt quickly on the mouth then let him
traverse the stairs. The older teen said nothing, irritated at the
inconvenience of it all.
Blaine turned back to his friends. "I'm sorry he's being so difficult," he
apologized.
Sam smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. It's a lot to be dragged into." He
nodded toward Rory. "It hasn't been easy for him, either. I think it kind of
hurts his feelings a little that Kurt and Mercedes are so against our being
together."
Rory didn't hear him whispering the last sentence. Instead, he was already back
in the office, thumbing through Sam's comic book. He turned the pages, but the
words never connected—his mind was far too preoccupied to focus on anything but
the colorful imagery. His eyes glazed over as he lost himself in thought.
Sam waved his hand in front of his teenaged boyfriend, trying to get his
attention. "Yoo hoo, Earth to Rory," he joked, having heard the phrase on TV
before. The teen finally snapped out of his haze, shaking his head.
"Sorry, a lot on me mind," he mumbled, not looking up. Sam moved behind him and
started running his fingers through the boy's hair with one hand, the other
rubbing his back.
"I know. You can always talk to me, even if it's something I already know, or
you've already talked about. I'll listen anyway," the blonde chuckled. "Over a
hundred years of listening, I have it down pretty good. Tell me, Rory, what's
on your mind, in your head right now?"
A smirk crossed the teen's face. "Ye' 'ave t'ask? E'erything. Me friends.
Brittany's family. Sebastian and his little experiment. Mike and Tina and their
shape shifting. Blaine and his magic. And of course the banshee and that suck-
you-bus." He sounded out the last word very carefully, still unsure of it.
"This is a lot to take in all at once. I mean it wasn't long ago I was just a
regular guy, the only thing special being me memory reading ability. Now here I
am, people like those students dyin' because o'me bein' here. People getting'
hurt and suffering. I hate it."
"I wish…I wish I could make everything better. I wish I could bring back
Brittany's parents, even her cat. I wish I could make your friends see I'm not
a bad person and that I love you. I wish so many things I can't make happen.
I'm sorry for that," Sam lamented quietly. "In a way I feel responsible—"
"No!" Rory blared suddenly, sitting ramrod stiff. "No! Ye'r not responsible at
all! That thing would be after me no matter what. At least with ye', I 'ave a
fighting chance. I don't regret being with ye'. My only regret is that I
can't—"
Sam put his finger across the teen's lips, knowing exactly where he was going,
and this was not the time to discuss it. He leaned in and kissed the teen,
hoping to draw his attention away from his stresses even for just a moment.
Rory accepted Sam's tongue into his mouth, closing his eyes and losing himself
in the vampire's gentle touches as Sam's fingers lightly traced his arms, and
then his chest. In vampiric speed, Sam shifted their positions, Rory sitting
atop the desk, himself standing between the boy's knees, still kissing him.
Rory broke the kiss long enough to giggle. "I don't think I'll e'er get used to
ye'r speed boosts. It's like e'erything just happens in an instant." Sam didn't
reply, but merely captured the teen's gaze, their eyes locking, unblinking. He
kissed the boy with more force, urging him onto his back as Sam pressed his
chest against Rory's.
Sam took Rory's shirt and gripped the fabric in the middle and pulled, tearing
it down the front, exposing the teen's hairless chest. Utilizing his extra
speed, Sam suddenly appeared bare-chested himself, his shirt in a heap on the
floor. Rory reached up to caress his boyfriend's muscular torso, but Sam
pressed his hands on Rory's biceps and pushed them down against the desk,
pinning him. With a sly grin, the blonde continued to kiss him roughly,
nibbling lightly at his neck, careful not to bite him. Yet.
The brunette let out quiet moans as his boyfriend's kisses peppered his chest,
the thick lips pausing at each nipple, tweaking just enough to send sensations
to his groin. He was aching in his pants, the fabric stretching as much as it
could. He could feel Sam's own firmness pressing up against his rear as he
leaned down, kissing, licking, nipping.
Sam swiftly tore Rory's pants off of him, tossing the shredded clothing to the
floor. Rory was unsure of exactly when Sam had removed his own pants, but now
both of them were naked and aching.
Blaine sat in the living room, hearing the strange noises coming from the
study. At first his curiosity was piqued, forcing him out of his seat and
padding toward the study. The door was still open, light spilling into the
foyer. What he saw was way more than he needed to—his blonde friend penetrating
Rory atop his desk, the boy writhing in ecstasy, mewling with every thrust into
his lithe body. Blaine knew there was no way he wouldn't be noticed if he shut
the doors, so he merely backed away and returned to the living room, sighing to
himself. Just seeing the brief scene, he felt an ache in his groin, an ache
that needed tending to. He decided it was a good time to pay Kurt a visit
upstairs for a little stress relief.
Back in the study, Sam was steadily thrusting himself into his boyfriend, over
and over, speed increasing but never reaching the point of blurring. He had let
go of the boy's biceps and instead grabbed his thighs, Rory's legs over Sam's
shoulders, his toes wiggling as he continued to thrash in pleasure.
Sam continued to ravage him, intent on causing a hands-free orgasm. Anytime
Rory tried to touch himself, Sam would let go of his thighs just long enough to
smack his hand away.
After several more minutes he could feel the boy begin to tremble, Rory's heart
rate increasing ever more and sweating twice as much. He was getting close to
the point of no return. Sam was ready to burst himself at any moment, but he
focused hard, forcing himself to stave off the impending eruption. When he knew
that Rory was about to crash, he leaned over and bit the tender flesh of his
neck, the boy letting out a cry of sheer pleasure and pain, a sound that
signaled to Sam that he was having the most intense of orgasms.
As Sam felt the tight ring of muscle contracting around his thick erection, he
could hold off no longer and allowed himself to explode, deep inside of his
boyfriend, several hard, deep thrusts giving him the final waves of pleasure.
As it came to an end, Sam leaned forward again and licked the blood from the
boy's neck, then bit his bottom lip, several drops of his own blood dripping
onto the fresh wound, forcing it to seal up, hiding the evidence. He then
captured the teen's mouth again in passionate kisses.
Exhausted, Sam let himself fall back into the chair, the leather cool against
his naked backside. A smug grin sat on his face as Rory slowly sat up. "I
needed that," he said breathily.
"So did I. I hope I wasn't too rough. I didn't hurt you did I?"
Rory shook his head. "No, not at all. I feel great. Better than e'er."
Sam smiled. He reached forward and took Rory's hands in his own and gently
pulled him into his lap. He rested his head in the crook of the brunette's
shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment.
"I love you so much, you just don't know. I've never felt this way about anyone
before. Not even Marley, and at the time I thought we would be together
forever."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam regretted them. He knew that would
trigger the teenager to bring up the topic of turning him into a vampire, but
to Sam's surprise, Rory simply smiled and nuzzled his chin against Sam's head.
The vampire was grateful—he had no desire to think about the idea of eternity
without his boyfriend, but also the great responsibility and tragedy that
accompanied becoming a vampire.
-ooo-
By the time the morning came and Blaine, Kurt, and Mercedes awoke, Sam was fast
asleep in his coffin. The three of them sat in the kitchen, eating cereal.
"I want no part of this," Mercedes declared as she put a spoonful of oats in
her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before going on. "All I see happening to us
is getting hurt and or killed. This crazy shit should be left up to the
superheroes."
"Rory is one of those people, you know. So are Mike and Tina, and I guess even
me if you wanna get technical. Are you saying you're going to just walk away
and leave all of us—your friends—to fend for ourselves?" Blaine challenged,
confusion and hurt in his eyes.
Mercedes didn't say anything but merely shifted her eyes, refusing to look at
him. A couple minutes of awkward silence passed before she finally spoke again.
"All I'm saying is that there isn't anything us humans can do. We don't have
super strength and speed, spells and magic and stuff. We're just—wait…" She
stopped herself, suddenly realizing exactly what Blaine had said a few minutes
earlier. "You said Mike and Tina are 'those people'… What do you mean by that?"
Blaine wasn't aware that his friends had no idea about the Asian couple. In
conversation later in the night after he had ravaged Kurt and sought out a
midnight snack, Sam had mentioned to him that among their group, Mike and Tina
were also gifted with special abilities. Blaine assumed he was the last to
know.
"I...Uh, crap," the younger teen replied. "I thought you knew."
"Knew what?" Mercedes asked, her eyes already going wider than normal, her
spoon laying still in the bowl, all desires for breakfast no longer important.
"That Mike and Tina are shapeshifters," Blaine answered. Kurt and Mercedes both
stared at him like he had three heads. "They can turn into different animals.
Kind of like a werewolf but not."
Kurt angrily stood up, hitting the table with his knee as he did so. "This is
bullshit!" he exclaimed. "I can't take anymore of this! Vampires, werewolves,
shapeshifters, banshees, all kinds of evil stupid shit! I'm tired of it, I
shouldn't have to put up with this!" he bellowed.
"No, no ye' shouldn't 'ave t'put up with it," Rory stated, coming into the
kitchen, having just woken up. "No, ye' shouldn't 'ave to put up with helping
ye'r friends out, tryin' to help them keep ye' safe from a banshee hellbent on
killing until it gets one o' ye'r friends. No, ye' shouldn't 'ave to put up
with doing the right thing."
Everyone stared at him, Blaine wondering if he was going to start a fireworks
show out of anger. Rory's voice was steady and calm, and that was the scariest
part of his speaking. Blaine sensed the hurt and rage and felt a modicum of
pride in his friend for maintaining composure.
"But ye' know what else, Kurt? At the end o' the day, it isn't ye' she's after.
Ye' could go home and go to sleep in ye'r nice cushy bed, but me? I 'ave to
worry e'ery moment of me life now, hoping this thing doesn't kill me, or anyone
else! I 'ave to worry about the safety of the people important to me—ye'
guys—and all ye' can do is complain about how ye' shouldn't 'ave to put up with
it." Rory was on a roll, his tone still firm and even, Blaine feeling chills
down his spine as he thought about what exactly was going to come next.
"I shouldn't 'ave to worry about any of that. I shouldn't 'ave to worry about
being killed, or me friends getting killed. I shouldn't 'ave to worry about
reading people's memories, or lighting them up, or running away from some
beast. I should be able to 'ave meals with me boyfriend, go out to the movies,
go to work, go to school, get blasted if I want to. But no, I can't. I was
given this… these abilities and now I 'ave to deal with it. The next time ye'
feel like whining, think about all I 'ave to deal with."
Kurt pursed his lips in shock. He had no idea how to respond. His friend was
right, but at the same time that didn't make anything any easier. He hadn't
expected such a tirade from Rory, a mellow and polite teenager who always kept
a positive outlook even in his clumsiest moments. He finally looked down toward
Mercedes, the young woman hanging her head either in shame or fear, he couldn't
tell which. He then shifted his gaze toward Blaine.
"I need to get out of here. This is all too much for me," Kurt declared softly.
"I'm sorry Rory, I can't handle this. It's too much. Just too much," he trailed
off. He walked from behind the table and toward the front door, turning the
knob and opening it.
When Kurt stepped out onto the porch, the sky began to darken. "What the hell?"
he asked out loud. The clouds seemed to swirl from cotton white to an oily
black. Kurt stared up at the sky, perplexed. Upon hearing him, his friends came
out to join him, equally confused.
"Is it the barrier?" Mercedes asked, knowing full well it was a foolish
question.
"No…I don't know what's doing that…It's not me," Blaine answered.
All traces of sunlight were gone, and along with it all sound seemed to
disappear as well. There were no noises of birds or crickets, not even the
gentle blowing of a breeze. It was dead air.
"Hey, do you hear that?" Kurt asked, hearing the faint sound of someone
singing. "It's beautiful."
No one needed to answer as the singing began to get louder. A thick mist began
to form in the yard, black and purple and red, all swirling until something
solid stepped out of it.
Rory's eyes went wide as he recognized the thing before them. The banshee.
"Hello, leprechaun," the banshee, Rachel, cooed. "I've been looking all over
for you."
"Leave us alone!" Rory shouted angrily. "Just get out of here and…and go to
hell!" His pause drained all sense of ferocity from his order. Instead he
sounded like a child struggling to talk back to a grown up.
Rachel ignored him as she seductively strolled up to the barrier. She pressed
her lips up close to it as if kissing the sheet of light. There was suddenly a
shrill noise that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The barrier solidified,
looking like a wall of glass. Cracks began to spiderweb all over it until it
shattered into a million pieces, falling to the ground and disappearing.
"Oh fuck!" Mercedes screamed. The first thing that came to mind was the banshee
screaming at them until they, too, shattered like the wall. The last thing she
wanted was to end up like those unfortunate high-schoolers on the news.
Rachel approached the small group, her face emotionless. She suddenly felt heat
all over her body, flashes of light stinging her eyes as the leprechaun was
blasting her over and over with his magic. She ignored it and kept approaching.
Blaine, in an act of desperation, attempted to form a second barrier, but the
wall of light faded before he even finished the spell.
Mercedes backed away through the door and turned to flee. The rest of them had
no time to contemplate her as the banshee was only feet in front of them.
Rachel reached forward and a ghastly arm formed over her normal arm, the
fingers clawed. The bony fingers slid around her quarry, the woman screeching
to keep her adversaries at bay. Kurt and Blaine were on the floor, holding
their ears and crying out in pain. Rory's arms were locked at his sides, the
banshee squeezing him so hard it hurt down to his bones.
None of them saw Mercedes emerge from the basement door and collapse on the
floor as the ultrasonics hit her unexpectedly. None of them saw the inhuman
blur as Sam ran from his sleeping quarters out to the front porch.
"Let go of him!" Sam demanded, his head aching, his ears bleeding slightly.
Rachel merely shook her head. She then backed away, taking her hostage with
her. Rory had passed out, the pressure too much for his body to withstand
consciously. Sam began to run at her, intent on catching her before she had
time to flee. He never saw the woman snap her fingers, never saw the shattered
glass reappear from the ground to reform the barrier the banshee had broken. He
slammed into it so fast it threw him backward through the door and into the
house, knocking him out. Sam never saw the banshee disappear into a cloud of
mist, singing a song in a foreign language that sent Blaine and Kurt into an
unconscious state.
Rachel finally had what she wanted. Rory in her grasp, her adversaries
incapacitated and vulnerable. With Rory in her clutches, they had no choice but
to do as she demanded, including giving themselves to her to use as she saw
fit, all at the threat of their friend's suffering.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 10: Yours, Mine, and Ours *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: Wow, three chapters left including this one and our
     adventure will be over for this season! I already have a ton of ideas
     filling my head for season 2, and I am already excited about that! On
     another note, as I write this (April 22nd if you care to know) I am
     also working on the final few episodes of Trouty Mouth and the
     Leprechaun, contemplating a 3rd season or not. I will give a trigger
     warning for the latter portion of this chapter as it has some
     potentially disturbing content. Anyway, onward!

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 10: Yours, Mine, and Ours
Rory's eyes shot open abruptly, but there was nothing for him to see. He was in
darkness. Not a bit of light anywhere. His entire body ached from his skin
right down to the core of his bones. Gingerly, he sat up, feeling a dampness in
his clothes. Wait, his clothes? He didn't have any clothes. Not normal clothes
anyway. Everything had been stripped from him except one item: a pair of
unfamiliar briefs. They itched slightly, the waistband a little more snug than
he cared for. When he realized his briefs were wet because he was sitting in a
small puddle, he couldn't help but take in a deep breath, expecting to smell
urine. Instead he smelled only mustiness, an odor that reminded him of
mothballs and mildew. No, he wasn't sitting in piss; he was sitting in moldy
water.
He blinked his eyes several times, forcing his vision to adjust to the
darkness. Slowly but surely things came into focus. The walls looked like
stone. They were; he felt them to make sure. On the far wall was something dark
and striped. He reached out to touch it and it was cold metal. Bars. A jail. He
was in a jail or cage of some sort.
His first inclination was to panic. He was in an unknown prison that smelled
like mold and had no light anywhere. He had been robbed of his clothing and
given a pair of too-small briefs, and worse yet, the air made him cough. It was
stale, no surprises there, and it felt thicker than normal. It took more energy
to breathe, but it could have been a trick of the mind, his panic setting in.
"Hello?!" he finally called out. It seemed hokey to just shout out like that,
but he couldn't think of anything else to do. As soon as the words left his
lips he wondered what kind of thing would come out of the darkness to greet
him. Perhaps he should have been silent instead, but the damage was done. He
had called out and possibly alerted whatever was keeping him hostage that he
was indeed awake.
The last thing he remembered was being grabbed by the banshee and forced into
unconsciousness. He hadn't sensed movement upon arriving at their destination,
nor had he felt the rough hands on his body as his clothes had been removed. He
decided it was probably best that he didn't remember it—his captors may have
physically violated him and the very thought of that made him ill. As far as
Rory was concerned, his body belonged to only one person, and that was Sam.
"Where am I!?" he called out again. His voice lightly echoed down what he
assumed was a long hallway. "Let me out o' here! Now!"
"I'm coming, shit! Quit making all that noise. It's giving me a headache!" came
a masculine voice he didn't recognize. There was a slight squeaking noise, but
no sound of footsteps. At last he saw a beacon of light coming down the hall.
It was moving too smoothly to be carried by someone. It almost appeared to be
mounted on a cart or something. No, not a cart, a wheelchair.
"I'm Artie, the jailor, among many other things," the man said, wheeling
himself into view on the other side of the bars. He sounded annoyed. The light
shined enough to illuminate his face and the area directly in front of him, but
little else. Rory could see that the man wore thick, nerdy glasses and a rather
vintage-looking vest over his button up shirt. He didn't look like any jailor
or guard the captive had ever seen before, but rather a typical high school
teenager.
"Where am I?" Rory asked. He attempted to sound confident, but his voice
cracked slightly.
"Doesn't matter," Artie replied with a cocky grin. "I've been sent to fetch
you, but you look nowhere near ready to address the lady of the house." His
eyes roved up and down the teenager, a look of disgust on his face. "You're
coming with me to clean up and change, then you'll see her."
"Her who?" the teen wondered aloud. He didn't receive an answer, but instead
was met with a smirk. Rory looked into the man's tired eyes, but what he saw
there scared him. It was an abyss of pure pain. He didn't need to see into the
jailor's head to pick up on the immense torment locked inside.
"Give me your hands," the wheelchair-bound man ordered calmly. Rory made no
inclination to move. "I said give me your hands," he demanded sternly. This
time, Rory stuck his hands vertically between two of the bars. Artie slapped on
a pair of handcuffs—the old kind used before zip ties. When they were secured
around the teenager's wrists, Rory pulled them back through, resting his tired
arms in front of his stomach. Artie unlatched the door to the cell with a key
that looked like it came right out of an old movie. When the door was open, he
slapped a chain around the middle of the cuffs, effectively leashing the boy to
his chair.
"Hey, what gives?" Rory demanded. "I'm not a dog!"
Another smirk from Artie was his answer. "Follow me. Keep up, I don't need you
falling face first into my wheels." In any other situation, the remark would
have been funny, but at the moment Rory felt anything but humor.
Artie began to wheel himself down the corridor. Rory followed quickly behind
him, being careful not to trip or allow the chain to pull taut.
"Where are we going?" Rory demanded, irritated that the man was ignoring his
questions. Silence. "I at least 'ave the right to know where we're going."
More silence.
Sighing loudly, Rory decided to give up on interrogating the jailor. He
obviously wasn't going to give an answer.
They reached the end of the passage and turned left down another long hall that
had several doors on either side. They stopped in front of a door with an
etching on the front of it in a language the teenager didn't recognize. The
jailor reached forward and unlocked it with his key and then pushed the door
open.
Artie wheeled inside, nodding toward another man standing inside the room. It
was otherwise empty, except for what looked like a hose of some sort connected
to the wall, and a drain on the floor.
"This is Ryder. He's going to assist you in getting ready. I suggest you don't
give him any trouble. He has the strength and skill of Kitty—an incubus in his
own right. You don't want to test that out, I assure you," Artie said sternly.
He reached forward and unclasped first the chain, and then the handcuffs. Rory
rubbed his wrists, the tight metal having dug into his skin.
"Ryder, bring him along when he's ready. I have things to do," the jailor
ordered. "If he gets unruly, subdue him, but don't kill him. She wants him
alive."
Ryder nodded and smiled. There was more light in this room, coming from
numerous candles in sconces on the walls. Rory was able to easily make out the
man's features. He was about the same height as Rory, but with broader
shoulders and chest. He wore no clothing, not even a pair of underwear. His
hair was neat and soft, his eyes alluring and glowing a pale teal. Rory
couldn't help but feel a slight tingling in his underwear, but he mentally
forced the thoughts away. It was the influence of the incubus and nothing more.
The incubus approached him with a friendly demeanor, unlike Artie who had been
rather abrupt and rude. "Hello Rory," he said. "As he said, I'm Ryder. Pleased
to meet you." He held out his hand to shake as if they were meeting at a social
engagement.
Figuring it best not to anger a being as powerful as the woman who had bested
his boyfriend, he shook the man's hand, feeling the heat emanating from it.
"Yeah, nice to meet ye'," Rory replied. "So what's going on here? Why am I
here? Who is she? What—"
Ryder held up his hand to silence him. "I can't answer most of those questions.
I'm not allowed to. I'm just supposed to get you ready to meet her, and that's
it. I'm not supposed to tell you anything else."
The teen couldn't help but look the man up and down, noting his tightly corded
muscles and chiseled abs. The man was also well endowed, rivaling Sam's own
gifts below.
"I can tell you this. I am an incubus, and I was given this particular
assignment because you'll be more docile with me. Don't get me wrong, I can be
terse if I have to, but at the base of it, I'm a nice guy mixed up in something
bigger I can't begin to explain. I just follow my orders and my nature."
"What is an incubus exactly?" Rory asked, only familiar with the rock band,
Incubus, which he was pretty sure had nothing to do with Ryder.
Ryder smiled softly. "An incubus is the male version of a succubus, putting it
simply. I wait for men or women to fall asleep and then I enter their minds,
seeking out their pleasure spools and inviting them to let me spread my seed.
The men are purely for pleasure, but the females…the females are for my species
to procreate since it is incredibly rare to breed a full-blooded demon like
ourselves."
"Wait, wait, wait. Ye' mean ye' rape people in their sleep?"
"If that's what you want to call it I suppose. I do make it so they desire me.
They give me permission, its just… permission granted through persuasion so to
speak," the incubus explained.
"I thought ye' said ye' were a nice guy. Nice guys don't rape people or take
advantage of them that way," Rory pointed out indignantly.
Ryder's shoulders slumped. "I still have my nature. I can't forgo that. But I
don't rape in the sense of the word. Many incubi outright force themselves on
their quarry, not bothering to persuade them the way I do. Instead they force
their victim down and savagely penetrate them until they are satisfied and then
they leave, the victim in a state of despair. I don't like to do that."
Rory rolled his eyes. "So ye'r a nice guy because ye' don't rape people, ye'
just make them want ye'? Sounds like bollocks to me."
Ryder frowned. "Don't judge, okay? I don't judge you. I just have a job to do,
and a nature to follow. I didn't choose this life, but it's what I was dealt
and it's what I have to do. Now, if you don't mind, remove your underwear."
"No!" Rory declared, suddenly agitated, backing away from Ryder. "I'm not
getting naked and ye'r not going to rape me! Don't e'en try it! I 'ave
abilities ye' know!" He held up his hands in a defensive stance, but his palms
weren't warming up very much at all.
"You can't use your power right now. You're too weak. Artie injected you with
some sort of, oh what did he call it? Dampener? Anyhow please, Rory, remove
your underwear. I don't want to take it from you," Ryder stated. Rory refused
again. Ryder reached before him, putting his fingertips on the waistband and in
one smooth motion, pulled the briefs off of the boy, the fabric tearing
effortlessly. He tossed the rag aside and took in the sight before him.
"Don't be shy," Ryder said as Rory covered himself with his hands. "You're a
handsome young man. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, we're about to
get a lot more intimate than just looking."
"What!? I can't use me power but I can still fight! Don't make me!"
"Calm down. It's not what you think, Rory. I'm not going to sexually accost
you. I am going to bathe you, however, and see to your clothing, so I will be
seeing your nudity quite a bit. Now, let your hands at your sides and relax. I
mean you no harm at all, I promise."
Rory looked at the man skeptically, his hands dropping down unconsciously.
Ryder was a handsome man indeed, and he genuinely seemed like a nice person,
even if he was working for 'her.' The man's eyes drew the boy in, a calming
effect falling over him. He also began to smell the faint scent of coconut.
Ryder pushed in one of the bricks on the wall, and from the stone slid out
another brick structure. It was about waist high and hollow inside, like a
basin.
"In you go my friend," Ryder said, nodding toward the tub. "Go on, get in. It's
safe, I assure you," he added. "It's only water." He held out his hand,
allowing Rory to use him for balance. The reluctant teenager cautiously climbed
into the empty tub, not noticing as Ryder took the hose and placed the end of
it on the edge of the stone. "I'm afraid the water might not be as warm as
you're used to."
The liquid began to flow, quickly filling the tub as it gushed through the
hose. It wasn't freezing, but it wasn't exactly warm either. It was more of a
room temperature. Rory shivered as the liquid rose around his shins and then up
to his knees. It was rising incredibly fast, but then again the basin wasn't
particularly huge either.
"Just sit down real fast. Get it over with. It won't take long," the incubus
encouraged. Rory took a deep breath before taking Ryder's advice and plunging
his lithe frame into the cool water. He let out a quiet cry of distaste,
swearing in Gaelic. He was too bothered by the cold to worry about the fact
that Ryder had reached in with a cloth and bar of soap and began to rub at his
skin. His touch was tender, not at all like a monster's hands should be.
Rory tolerated the bath, insisting that he be allowed to clean his own groin
and hindquarters. The incubus politely agreed, and waited as the boy finished
the task. Ryder then soaped and rinsed the teen's hair and announced that they
were finished.
"I have a towel for you," Ryder said, turning to a short table that Rory hadn't
noticed before. It may not have been there earlier, considering that some of
these bricks were pushable. Ryder could easily have pressed one and made a
table slide out from the wall. Ryder held the towel open and smiled. "Come on,
out you come. Wrap up and warm up."
The teen quickly climbed out of the tub, throwing himself into the warmth of
the towel—the fabric a soft terry cloth. He took a moment to enjoy the feeling
before drying himself off.
"I have clothes for you," Ryder announced, turning back to the table. A pair of
dark blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and a green plaid sweater vest awaited him,
a pair of socks and black and white shoes sitting next to the items.
"These are pretty comfy. I thought I was supposed to look all…regal or
something. If she's so great, why not a suit and tie?" the teen inquired.
Ryder smiled again. "I find it best not to ask questions. Be thankful, I'd
rather wear that then some stuffy suit. Now go on, get dressed and then I'll
fix your hair."
Rory couldn't help but chuckle. It all seemed so stupid to go through these
lengths of presentation just to put him in casual clothing. It was overtly
theatrical and he wondered for a moment if the banshee had a 'thing' for old
style ceremony and custom. Shrugging it away, he decided to comply and put on
the outfit provided for him, eager to be dressed again.
"You look very handsome," Ryder complimented. "Now sit on the table—don't get
your jeans dirty—and let me style your hair." Where the incubus acquired hair
gel, Rory didn't know, but he let the man work his dark hair without question.
"Ah, now you look perfect! I wish I had a mirror for you!" The man stood back a
moment and admired his charge. Ryder actually had an affectionate look in his
eyes, a look that belied his incubi nature. There was something more there than
just lust, rather some kind of respect.
"Thank ye'," Rory replied. It was the first time he smiled since he had woken
up. It felt good to get a compliment from someone so handsome who didn't happen
to be his own boyfriend. He just had to ask the burning question, however. "Ye'
do seem far too nice to be in line with this banshee creature. Why are ye'
here?"
Ryder's smile began to fade, a faraway look filling his eyes. It was obvious he
was struggling with something internally as he contemplated his answer. After a
minute of pure silence and reflection, he finally replied. "I'm not here
because I want to be. I am in debt to her. That's all I can say."
Rory looked into the man's eyes, sensing the pain there. It was a different
kind of pain than what was in Artie's eyes. Ryder obviously wasn't going to
share his past history about what his debt was, but whatever it was, it was
sorrowful for the incubus.
"Ye' know something, Ryder?" Rory began. "I 'ave friends coming for me. I know
they are. When they get here, and we get this all taken care of, I'll make sure
ye' get out o' here. Ye'll be a free man. The only thing is…ye' 'ave to promise
me to change ye'r ways. I know it's ye'r nature to seduce the men and women,
but why not try and actually get them to like ye' for ye'? Maybe even find a
boyfriend or girlfriend. Then ye' could get all ye'r needs from the same
person, and maybe be happy."
Ryder scratched his head, confused. "Why would you do that? I'm an incubus. A
dangerous creature with a hungry nature. You have no way to force me to do what
you want. I could be lying to you if I said I would do it. Besides, your
friends may come, but they may not be able to help you."
Rory gave the man a soft smile, refusing to entertain the idea that Sam might
not be able to rescue him afterall. "Ye' 'ave more self control than ye' think.
After all, ye' managed not to take me, and here we were, naked and alone. Ye'
could 'ave done anything ye' wanted at any time, but ye' didn't."
The incubus looked thoughtful. The boy was right—he had resisted, but that was
because Rachel had ordered it. Or was it?
"I think if I helped ye' escape from here, from her debt, I think ye' would
make the effort," Rory stated confidently.
"You have no reason to trust me, young man."
"Maybe not. But I don't 'ave a reason not to trust ye' either. I think even if
ye'r an incubus, ye' still 'ave ye'r pride as a person. Ye'r honor. I think if
ye' give me ye'r word, you'd stick to it. I wouldn't know if ye' didn't, but I
think ye' 'ave a stronger heart than that."
Ryder stared at him, his head running at max speed, still failing to understand
why this human was willing and eager and capable of assisting him. It made no
sense at all.
"Just give me ye'r word, and I'll help ye'. After that, it's up to ye' to make
good on it or not. I can't force ye' either way, but just ye'r word is enough
for me," Rory said.
Before their conversation could continue, Artie rolled in, a sneer on his face.
"About time. Come on, the cuffs gotta go back on, I'm not having you run off."
He slapped the cuffs back on the teen, and then tethered him to the chair.
"Think about it, Ryder. Ye' showed me kindness, even if ye'r supposed to be a
monster," the teen reminded him.
Ryder watched as Rory followed Artie out of the room, but just before the door
closed, he called out to the boy. "Rory! You have my word!" he declared. Rory
simply smiled, pleased with himself. The man had been genuinely kind to him,
and he hated to see anyone in slavery, especially if it was undeserved. He
didn't know the terms of his debt, but someone with such a kind demeanor
deserved another chance. He had no way to know if Ryder would actually keep his
word or not, but faith in the incubi's integrity was enough to satisfy him. At
the very least, the entire exchange had given him a strange kind of comfort in
such an uncertain situation.
"Don't bother running your mouth to him, giving him false hopes and all," Artie
scolded as they made their way further down the hall. "You have no hope of
getting out of here, and neither does he."
Quick on his thoughts, Rory supplied a small lie of a response. "I was simply
remindin' him that just because he's an ink ye' bus, that he doesn't 'ave to
feel bad about being nice to people."
Artie sneered. "I'm not stupid, boy. I know what you were talking about. As I
said, you have no hope of leaving this place. You belong to the mistress now.
Ryder, too, will be hers to repay his debt to her. He is no more an asset to
your cause than a common housefly."
Rory rolled his eyes, saying nothing. There was no point in arguing or
agitating the man. He knew in his heart that Sam was coming for him, and that's
all he needed to know. He continued to follow the surly demeanor on wheels to
the end of the passageway where an old-fashioned elevator stood open, waiting
for them. It took them up what had to be at least five floors before stopping.
The small foyer where the elevator stopped looked much different than the one
below. It was still stone, but it looked cleaner and had colorful tapestries
hanging down.
"She sure likes her artwork. This stuff must be-" Rory began, admiring the
tapestries and painting as they continued into a new hallway.
"Hundreds of years old," Artie finished sarcastically. "I'll be glad when I
drop you off. You talk too much."
Rory sighed, annoyed, stopping in front of a large ornate door. Artie pressed
in on a stone in the side, and the door opened on its own. It revealed a large
room filled with mirrors and golden frames. The walls themselves were a pure,
white marble with the mirrors embedded inside, keeping them flush. Elaborate
chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Between the framed mirrors were more
tapestries and paintings. At first it was overwhelming, but overall it was
rather tacky, as if purposely made to look 'over the top'.
At the very back of the room was a large throne, golden and trimmed with
various colored stones. The seat was velvet and red, every bit the
stereotypical king's seat.
"This is a wee bit theatrical, isn't it?" Rory commented, looking around.
"Of course it is," came the soft, feminine voice he had become accustomed to
hearing sing in the night. She stepped fully into the room, having entered from
an unseen door. She wore a solid black dress with gold trim, her hair loose and
curled. "I enjoy theatrics. You must remember, I come from a time when things
such as this were held in high regard. Even the biggest eyesores were
considered regal compared to the rags of the commoner."
"I'd rather 'ave a plain rag for a curtain than these ugly things," the teen
retorted smugly. The woman crossed the room instantly, slapping him across the
face with a loud crack.
"You have a smart mouth. I'll fix that quick enough!" Rachel declared. "I'd cut
out your tongue, but I have heard you sing. It would be an awful waste." She
then turned her attention to Artie and smiled sweetly. "Unchain him and remove
the cuffs. I will call on you later."
Artie nodded and quickly unclasped the chain from the handcuffs and wheeled
himself out of the room, muttering unintelligibly to himself.
"He's efficient but very moody," Rachel explained. "He's also very talented in
ways I am certain you will never know about." Rory shrugged, keeping his eyes
on the mysterious woman, unconcerned with her peon's talents. "So I guess
you're wondering what you're doing here, right?"
"Aye, the thought had crossed me mind," the teen replied. Rachel's eyes turned
cold a moment before she let another smile cross her lips.
The banshee walked slow, sensual circles around her captive, letting her
fingertips brush against his arms, his cheeks, his chin. "Well let me put you
at ease first, my dear. I have no intention to kill you. In fact, that is the
least of my desires for you." She stopped behind him and leaned in, her lips
right next to his ear. "I want your blood, dear boy, but I want it for
eternity."
A shiver went down the teen's spine as the words resonated in his head. "Blood?
Why?" he stammered.
"It's always blood, isn't it?" she cooed, moving to face him, their noses
almost touching. "Blood is the essence of life. Every living creature has blood
in it. It's what keeps them going. Why do you think vampires need it so bad? It
nourishes the body. It keeps them 'alive'."
"But Artie said ye'r art was hundreds of years old. If ye'r already so old, why
are ye' worried about needing more life? Aren't ye' like the vampires? Ye'
can't age or die?" Rory asked, confused. "And what's so special about me, that
ye' 'ave to 'ave myblood?"
The banshee smiled sweetly as she backed away a foot more. She placed her
fingertip in the center of Rory's chest, staring up into his eyes. "It's not
the immortality I desire. No, I have that already. There's something else much
more special about your blood. You're the last remaining leprechaun known to
man, boy. Don't you know what a leprechaun's blood can do?"
"No," he said, shaking his head.
Rachel continued to grin. "It acts as an enhancing agent. When a girl like me
takes it into herself, it keeps her young and beautiful and extends her life.
Of course that's not a concern of mine, but some might find it advantageous.
More importantly, it enhances my natural abilities. My voice could shatter
mountains, my strength would allow me to bend steel. My magic would become
stronger, more powerful. You see where I'm going with this…If I imbibe your
blood, I can become the closest thing to a god this world could have."
Rory shuddered. "Ye' think that by drinking me blood, ye' can be a god? Sounds
like ye' might be o'erestimating me power," he said his voice cracking
slightly.
"No, no, I know what I'm talking about. Furthermore, to sustain that power, I
would need to drink from you day after day. Being the only living leprechaun, I
need you to stay around for a long, long time. See, leprechaun, I know your
secret to a long life. I know how even you can live forever."
Despite his fear, the first thing to cross his mind was that if what she said
was true, he could live forever with Sam, without being turned vampire. The
banshee's squeal of delight broke his thoughts as she detailed exactly what
would allow him to keep going well after his years. "You're like a battery that
needs charging. You can drain the life force from someone, using it to sustain
your youth and life. The sad part for you, however, is that it would most
likely kill anyone you took life energy from. Bam, dead, kapow." She made
motions with her hands, miming shooting someone followed by an explosion. "Of
course, nothing comes without sacrifice."
"If me blood makes someone so powerful, then how come Sam ne'er had any effects
after drinking me? Explain that!" the teen asked eagerly.
"How do you know he didn't? When did he drink you? While you were making love,
correct?" She leaned in extremely close, her mouth brushing his ear. "Or were
you simply… fucking?" she asked, putting hard emphasis on the vulgar word.
Rory's face flushed a little, embarrassed at being asked such a personal
question. "Y-y-yes. I mean, we weren't fucking we were making love. We mean
more to each other than that. That's the only time I've let him bite me. The
only time he e'er tried, and I had to beg him e'en then." He had no idea why he
expounded on his answer. Perhaps he wanted to make absolutely sure the banshee
knew that Sam was a much better intentioned person than she thought he was.
"If he's like any other man after sex, he wants only to sleep, or eat, or
something else equally a waste of time. How would he notice any enhancement if
he isn't trying to use it?" Rachel took pleasure in the teen's discomfort at
discussing his sexual activities. "No need to be shy, we're all adults here.
Tell me I'm wrong."
Rory's icy glare was enough of an answer for her. She smirked and turned to her
throne. "See, a stupid man wasting a valuable resource. You could do better,
and that 'better' is me."
"How's that? Ye' 'ave nothing I want! No way in the world ye' are any better
than Sam! Ye'r nothing compared to him!"
"I will have plenty for you soon enough, and when I do, you'll have no choice
in the matter. Not if you want to see the people important to you continue
existing. Remember those news stories? The massacre in what just so happened to
be your home? Yes, that was a fortunate coincidence. But yes, that was me. You
saw the bodies. You saw the leftovers. I know you did. Do you want your
friends, do you want Sam, to end up like that? Or worse?" she taunted. "If it
isn't me that will shred them, it will be Kitty, and she is far less merciful
than I."
Rory clenched his fists, feeling the heat rising. His jaw was clamped down so
hard it hurt, his breathing deep. He slowly began to raise his hands in front
of himself, the now familiar glow intensifying as the dampening agent was
apparently wearing thin. Rachel smiled and then held her hand out, inspecting
her nails as if nothing was going on in front of her.
The teen spread his fingers as the heat inside of him surged out toward the
banshee, the crackling beams looking all the more intense by their reflections
in the mirrors. Rachel sighed and opened her mouth, letting out an ear-
splitting wail. The surge of energy slammed against an invisible shield in the
air—her ultrasonic sound waves crashing against his barrier of light. The
mirrors shook, and then shattered, shards of glass flying everywhere. Rory
stopped the blast, ducking to avoid the glass. Without any further resistance
to hold it back, the sound waves traveled the rest of the way through the room,
crashing into the teen and shoving him up against the far wall. He fell onto
all fours, his fingers and knees stinging as he landed on slivers of mirror.
"You didn't really think it'd be that easy did you?" Rachel taunted, standing
up. She slowly glided on her feet toward the injured teenager and stopped just
in front of him, her feet directly under his face. She crouched down and
wrapped her fingers around his throat and stood, dragging him to his feet.
"You're lucky that I want your blood and need you alive, otherwise I would kill
you right now. Do you know how expensive those mirrors were?"
Rory clutched at the woman's hand, trying to pry her fingers away from his
throat. Breathing was becoming harder as she increased the pressure. "Oh, looks
like you cut yourself," Rachel commented casually. With her free hand she took
one of his wrists in her fingertips and brought his palm toward her mouth. She
stuck out her tongue and erotically licked the blood from the tiny wounds,
moaning with approval. As the liquid life slid down her throat, a faint glow
went with it, lighting up her throat and into her core. Satisfied, she dropped
him back onto the floor, his hands and knees landing on the glass again.
The teen gasped for air, ignoring the pain. He reached up with one hand and
tried to force another burst of energy, but all that happened was mild
crackling around his fingertips.
"A little tired I see. You should have behaved yourself. I was going to let you
dine with me. You're a lucky boy, Rory. You really are," Rachel went on. She
snapped her fingers, the sound abnormally loud. A moment later, Artie wheeled,
and Ryder marched, into the room, the latter wearing a button up shirt and
slacks, all in black, except for a pair of gold suspenders and bow tie. "Take
the brat to his room."
Ryder knelt down to help Rory to his feet, a genuine look of concern on his
face. When they stood back up, Rachel was only a foot away from them, looking
smug. "I guess this is goodnight for now. I really advise you to think about
cooperating from now on."
"Ye' talk too much," Rory rasped, his throat sore from her grip. He managed to
work up enough saliva however to spit at the woman, hitting her square in the
face, the clear liquid dripping down her cheeks.
Rachel's eyes went bright red all of a sudden and she raised her hand,
backhanding Rory across the face. The crack of cartilage snapping filled the
room and blood began to gush from his nose. "Get him out of here, NOW!" the
angry banshee bellowed, reaching up to her face and wiping the muck away.
Ryder gingerly pinched Rory's nose to stem the blood flow, apologizing for the
additional pain. "I'll fix you up when we get to your room, I promise," he
whispered, his eyes filled with sorrow, the beautiful glow from before paler
still. Once they were out of the room and the door was shut, all three of them
heard the high-pitched angry screech of Rachel, the final pieces of jagged
glass falling from the frames onto the floor.
"That was really stupid," Artie said flatly. He didn't bother with cuffs or
chains as the boy wasn't going anywhere without Ryder's help. The handsome
attendant held onto the injured boy and guided him down the halls until they
reached a door. "This is your room. You can't get out, so don't bother trying."
He then turned his attention to Ryder. "Take care of the dumb shit. I'm putting
you in charge of him for now. Keep him out of trouble."
"Yes, sir," Ryder replied earnestly. Artie unlocked the door and waited
impatiently as the incubus took his charge inside. Artie slammed the door shut
and locked it, rolling away muttering as always.
Ryder led the teen directly into the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet
lid. "Tilt your head back," he instructed, his fingers still clasping Rory's
bloodied nose. With his free hand he took a towel from the rack and held it
close to the boy's face. "I'm gonna let go now. Hold this under your nose to
catch the bleeding while I figure out how to patch you up."
When Ryder removed his fingers, Rory's face felt a new surge of fire emanating
from his nose. The pressure had hurt, but it had quickly turned his nose numb,
however the release brought all the pain right back. Tears were streaming down
his cheeks, his breaths coming out ragged. Ryder opened the medicine cabinet,
which was closer to a medicine closet. Everything imaginable was stocked inside
as if the banshee expected Rory to need constant medical attention.
"I'm going to lessen the pain for you," the incubus told him. "To do it, I have
to kiss you. One of my talents is to alter the human nervous system. Normally I
do it to super charge sexual energy, but I can also do the opposite and dull
your senses. It will make you feel rather numb, but it'll help ease the pain."
Ryder moistened his lips and stared down at the pained teen. "I promise not to
take advantage of you, Rory."
The teen nodded slightly, his cheeks still stained with tears. Ryder took a
couple of small pieces of gauze from the countertop then pulled the towel away
from Rory's face. The bleeding hadn't stopped, but it had significantly slowed
down. Ryder very gently packed the boy's nostrils with the gauze, sending fresh
pain into his patient's head.
"I'm sorry," Ryder said. He wiped the sticky blood from Rory's upper lip and
then cautiously bent downward, pressing his lips against the leprechaun's. Rory
closed his eyes, reminding himself that this wasn't for pleasure. This was
strictly to relieve the pain. It felt strange having someone's lips other than
Sam's against his, feeling someone else's tongue entering his mouth. Ryder
kissed him for what seemed like a very long period of time, a strange coolness
coming from the incubus' mouth. It was a cold that spread from Rory's mouth
outward, to his entire face up to his head, down his throat and into the rest
of his tired body. The longer the chill remained, the less he felt his body.
Ryder finally broke the kiss, standing back up tall. "If you have a significant
other and they find out, I'll take responsibility for that. I don't want them
to be angry with you," he said softly. "A man as handsome as yourself must
surely have a boyfriend, or girlfriend. The incubus wasn't very familiar with
the emotions touching his heart and mind as he stared at the boy. He wasn't
devoid of feeling for other people, but in his years of submitting to his
nature he hadn't actually felt real affection for almost anyone. They were
merely victims to his cause. There was something about this teenager that was
different. It reminded him of someone important from his past; the only person
he ever loved. It was the person that Ryder had convinced himself was
responsible for his sense of humanity, despite his demonic origin. Even with
the pangs of sadness the memories gave him, it put Ryder at ease.
The man wet a washcloth and washed the blood and tears from the boy's face and
his neck where it had dribbled down his chin. "There, that's better," he said
with a slight smile. Rory attempted to smile back, but it was difficult to do
with his face feeling like he had just come from a dentist overdosing him on
frosty Novocaine. Ryder then wiped clean the teen's hands and wrapped them in a
thin layer of bandages. He tore off Rory's jeans and repeated the patching up
process on the teen's knees.
Without another word, the 'nurse' assisted his new friend to the bedroom. "Your
clothes are ruined and you'll want to be comfortable to sleep. I'll help you."
Rory stood at the bedside, steadying himself on the bedpost despite the fact he
could barely sense his fingers on the polished wood. He watched as Ryder walked
to the wardrobe and removed a fresh pair of pajamas and from the drawer and a
pair of underwear. He returned to his friend and carefully helped him out of
the rest of his clothes and into his nightwear.
"Lay back in bed and I'm going to place an icepack on your face. It will keep
the swelling down," Ryder informed him. Rory did as he was told and waited as
the man prepared the icepack. Ryder sat on the edge of the bed and turned
sideways to place the pack. "You might feel cold already, but it's not the same
as icing your injury." He paused a moment before positioning the pack over the
teen's already swelling face. "You know, that really was a stupid thing to do.
She's very powerful. I don't want to see you hurt."
Rory finally forced a grin. "It was worth it," he croaked out. The incubus
couldn't help but chuckle before leaning down and kissing him on the forehead.
He then brushed his fingertips over the teen's eyelids, shutting them and using
his magic to send him off to sleep.
-ooo-
"Where is he!?" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs as he stormed up the stairs
from his basement coffin. He wasn't sure how he had ended up in there, but it
was a good thing since as soon as Rachel left, the clouds started to dissipate
and shortly after, the sun was shining through into the house.
The door slammed open so hard that it flew off the hinges, splintering against
the wall. "I said where is he!?" he demanded again, his voice booming through
the house.
Mercedes sat on the couch next to Kurt and Blaine, all three of them hanging
their heads, afraid to look up at Sam.
"God damn it! Where the fuck is Rory?!" the vampire shouted angrily, facing all
three of the humans. Mercedes winced at the sound while Kurt and Blaine held
hands, squeezing tightly. The last thing any of them wanted was an angry
vampire, and aside from Blaine, none of them were equipped to defend themselves
against him if he went off the deep end.
"She took him," Mercedes finally whispered. Sam rushed up to her and shook her,
forcing her to look up at him. "Watch it! That hurts!" she yelled, her fear
temporarily ignored out of rage. "Get your hands off of me, I didn't hand him
over to her!"
Sam let go of her and stood upright, sighing. "I'm sorry," he muttered and
turned to walk away. Mercedes reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry," he
repeated. "I'm afraid and angry and I don't deal well with that."
"We want to rescue him as much as you do, but without knowing where she took
him, there isn't much we can do," the girl said softly, her voice quivering
nontheless. "Being crazy isn't going to help."
Sam grit his teeth and yanked his hand away, stomping off to his office. He
needed to get away from the humans for a moment. They don't get it! She's going
to drain every bit of him dry, and they are clueless!
The vampire threw the office doors open so hard they, too, flew off the hinges
and hit the walls with a loud crack. He then picked up the large chair that sat
before the desk and launched it toward the glass display cases, shattering
them. The desk itself was next, hefted over his head and catapulted into the
wall of bookcases. He could barely see through the red haze of blood filling
his eyes and sliding down his cheeks.
With everything in the study having been tossed and broken, he came back to the
living room. The three teenagers were still sitting on the couch, clutching
onto each other in fear.
"Sam, calm down!" Blaine shouted as a recliner whizzed past his head and out of
the window. "Sam! Stop!" he yelled, getting up. "This is insane! It's not
helping!"
Blaine's words were in vain, however, as Sam continued to let out his anger on
the coffee table, punching it and splitting it four ways, his fist hitting the
floor and leaving a small hole. Still on overdrive, the vampire rushed forward
toward the stone reinforced wall and began punching it mercilessly, chunks of
cement sailing past his head and toward the frightened teenagers, who had moved
behind the couch to avoid the debris.
Sam slowed down his barrage of punches as he tired himself out, slumping to his
knees and weakly throwing his fists at the unfortunate brick. Even with his
enhanced strength, the constant assault on his flesh was tearing it, blood
streaking over his hands.
The brave one, Blaine cautiously approached him, putting his hand on Sam's
shoulder. "Got it all out of your system now?" he asked sternly. The vampire
turned his head and glared up at the warlock, his cheeks stained with bloody
tears, his eyes just as red. Despite not needing to breathe, he was panting.
Blaine knelt down next to him, keeping his hand on the man's arm. "Calm down.
Right now," he ordered before draping his arms across Sam's shoulders, hugging
him tightly from behind. "Rory needs you now, and not like this."
"She's going to kill him," Sam stammered. "She may already have done it."
Before Blaine could respond, the vampire felt the comforting man being pulled
away and his body being shoved around and backward. There was a loud crack and
his face lit on fire as a dark hand slapped him, smearing the bloodstains.
"Rory isn't dead you dumb shit!" Mercedes hollered. "He isn't dead," she
repeated hoarsely, tears of her own flowing down her dark cheeks. "Don't say
that. He isn't dead." She stared him right in the eyes, no longer concerned
that he would cast his mind control spell on her. He wouldn't dare try it, not
on her, not right now. "Now get up, wash your face, and let's get to work
figuring out what to do about this."
"Sam… is it true, about the bond between a vampire and a human once they've
shared blood?" Blaine asked. The vampire nodded hesitantly. "Shouldn't you be
able to sense him, or something? Can't you feel if he's hurt or…or worse?"
Sam sighed as he brought himself to his feet. "You're a genius, Blaine. I can't
believe I was so stupid not to think of that!" He immediately quieted down and
shut his eyes, trying to concentrate. He made several funny faces as he did so.
"I can't sense him, not like I normally can. I think that's it, I've gotten so
used to being able to feel him, I forgot about it. He isn't dead, though. I can
tell that much. I can't explain the feeling, it's…"
"Faith," Mercedes said quietly. "It's faith. You know in your heart the truth."
She smiled warmly at the man for the first time. "Now get moving before I have
to slap you again," she added with a wink. "And you know I will if I have to.
We all have to be strong for Rory right now."
"Thanks. I think I needed that," he said, nodding toward her. She chuckled as
he walked past her, sidestepping the ruined table. "You can come out now," he
added, addressing Kurt who was still hiding behind the couch. "I'm done
throwing a temper tantrum."
Kurt peered over the edge of the couch and slowly stood up, glancing first at
his friends and then at the vampire as he disappeared into the bathroom. "That
was scary," the teen said, rushing over to Blaine and hugging him. "Leave it to
Mercedes to put a man in his place," he added.
"Somebody had to, what with all that 'he's dead' talk. I don't do negativity in
a crisis," she announced with pride. "Sadly, I don't know what to do next. I
mean, how do we find where the crazy bitch took him?"
"I have an idea. I'm going to Scandals to see Sebastian. He's got sources. I
want you three to get Mike and Tina. I'll need their help," Sam stated,
returning to the room upon hearing their conversation. "Then Kurt, Mercedes, I
want you two to go home. Mike, Tina, and Blaine can use their abilities but you
two are human. I don't want you getting hurt."
Mercedes was about to open her mouth but Kurt beat her to it, his voice filled
with an unusual tone of determination and bravery. "Rory's our friend too, you
know. Mercedes and I are coming with you. No arguments."
"But-" Sam started, but Kurt interrupted him.
"But nothing. Arm us to the teeth. I know you have resources. Guns, knives,
whatever can cause some damage," the teen said. "If Blaine is being forced into
this, I'm doing what I can to at least try and protect him."
"Uhm bulletproof vests would be nice too. I wear a size eighteen," Mercedes
interjected. "And don't forget I got a lot of boobage going on here, so make
sure it isn't too tight. Maybe some pads of some sort too, something to cushion
the blows."
"You're really serious, aren't you?" Sam asked, looking the pair over.
"Damn right we are. Now go do what you need to. Stop at whatever armory you
have going on, and let's do this before we waste anymore time," Kurt declared.
Sam smiled slyly. "Yes, sir," he said. In a blur he was outside and getting
into his vehicle. Normally he would run, but he was tired from his rampage and
didn't want to use any more energy than necessary. The drive would give him a
chance to recharge before confronting Sebastian for information.
"Since when did you become a warlord?" Blaine asked his boyfriend. Kurt
shrugged.
"No idea. Now let's go," Kurt answered. He led the other two outside to their
own car so that they could get on with their assignment, unsure of just how
long it would take Sam to make his errand. They wanted to be ready for whatever
they had just gotten themselves into.
-ooo-
Sam parked his car and turned off the engine. He got out, noticing that
Scandals' parking lot was rather empty. He wasn't even sure exactly which day
it was, so it may not have been unusual for there to be a slack crowd if it was
the middle of the week.
"He isn't dead," came a familiar, almost airy feminine voice. Sam stopped in
his tracks, trying to deduce where it was coming from. "He isn't dead," the
voice repeated.
"I know that," the vampire stated, annoyed. As soon as he spoke, his eyes went
hazy for a moment. When his vision cleared, he saw standing in front of him,
Marley Rose. "Marley?"
"Hello, Sam. It's me, but it's not really me," the beautiful woman said. There
was something off about her. She was far too pale, even for a vampire, and she
seemed almost translucent with an ethereal glow around her.
"How are you here? I saw you die decades ago. You're gone," the blonde
questioned, suddenly wondering about his sanity. Was Rory's abduction causing
him to go insane?
Marley smiled softly, her eyes still holding the comforting gaze he had become
so accustomed to so long before. "I'm still in your blood, Sam. In your heart.
You don't really see me. I'm not really here."
"Then what-?"
"I can't explain it, but I'm the same as a… a ghost I suppose you can say. Non-
corporeal, of course. But even then, no, that's not entirely accurate. I'm more
like a vision from your own psyche. How I am here is not what matters, though.
I can't stay but a moment, but your friends are right. Rory is not dead. He's
very much still alive. I promise you that. Have faith, know he is safe for now,
but he needs you, Sam. She won't kill him. She needs him. But Sam, that doesn't
mean she won't do unspeakable things… You have to hurry and save him," Marley's
ghost went on to explain.
Sam felt his eyes tear up again. He had thought more about his past lately than
he had in a long time, and if there was one thing he missed as much as his
family, it was Marley. Here she was, in front of him, speaking to him.
Reassuring him. It didn't seem right. They had been in love, and she was
actually encouraging him now to be happy with someone else.
"I see what you're thinking, Sam. I'm gone now. I will always love you, and you
me, but Rory is your love now. He is your mate, your partner. I want you to be
happy, Sam, and your happiness lies with Rory, with the living. Not with the
true dead," the woman said in a mournful tone. Her words were valid, but it
didn't mean that even in true death she didn't miss him immensely. "I have to
go now, but take solace in knowing that your journey will not be in vain. Rory
is alive, and he needs you."
Marley's ghost approached him, their bodies so close they could touch if she
were solid. He felt the increased chill in the air as the figure kissed him
lightly on the lips. "I love you, Sam. You can do this. I promise you can." She
smiled one last time. "Good bye, Sam, my love."
With that, the dead woman began to fade into mist. Luckily for Sam, her body
had never been 'in focus' enough for him to see—she had ethereal tears sliding
down her cheeks the entire time she spoke, even when she smiled.
"Good bye, Marley. I love you, too. Thank you," the vampire whispered as the
mist dissipated. He really did not know if what just happened was real, or if
it was some sort of hallucination, but it didn't matter. His vision of his past
beloved was more than enough to keep him going. And now, he was going right
through the front door and into Scandals to drag Sebastian into this whether he
wanted to be part of it or not.
-ooo-
Rory slowly opened his eyes, the dull ache of his broken nose still pulsing,
but nowhere near as bad as it had been. The lights were dimmed but not off, and
it was quiet except for the light sound of a piano being played in another
room. He sat up, a dried washcloth and warm pack of water flopping into his
lap. After a moment he recalled Ryder placing something on his face to ease the
swelling, hence the cloth and melted icepack.
"Ryder?" he croaked out. His throat was painfully dry, and he was famished. He
slid out of the covers and padded to the bathroom. He vaguely remembered that
he had been in the bathroom, bleeding like a stuck pig, but now there was no
sign of blood anywhere. The bright light stung his eyes for only a moment as he
adjusted. He turned on the faucet, cupped his hands, and began to drink
greedily.
"You don't have to drink that," the low, deep voice of the incubus said, the
man stepping up behind the teenager. "I made you some tea," he added. Rory
stood upright, looking into the mirror at Ryder's reflection. The incubus was
dressed much more casually—slacks and a polo shirt, all three buttons undone.
"Tea? Thank ye'," Rory said. Before he could turn around, Ryder had wrapped his
arms around him from behind, draping a large terry-cloth robe over Rory's lithe
frame. "This is…mine?"
Ryder grinned. "Yes. It's yours now. There are a lot of things that are yours
now. Miss Berry took away your freedom, but in exchange she has given you a lot
of material wealth here. Come on, I'll show you." He took Rory's hand and led
him back into the bedroom. Now that he was fully conscious, Rory was able to
see just how nice the room actually was. All of the furniture—the bed, tables,
chairs, and dressers—were made of hand-crafted woodwork. The fabrics used on
the bed and seats were velvet, the curtains thick silk.
"Wow, this is a really nice room," the overwhelmed teen said, looking over
things.
"Open the drawers and wardrobes. You'll find clothing there, your size," Ryder
instructed. "I took the pleasure of securing some things for you. I hope you
like them."
Rory cocked his head and looked at the man. "Ye' went and shopped for all this
in just the few hours I was asleep?" He bent back over the dresser drawers he
was inspecting, running his fingers across numerous pairs of jeans and slacks,
socks and underwear.
"No. I had time. At least I seemed to. Only Miss Berry, Artie, and Kitty know
what time really is here. Anyone else is completely unaware, myself included. I
think its part of Miss Berry's love of insanity. She wants the disassociation
with time to mess with our minds. That's my theory at least. Honestly you could
have been asleep for days or hours. After so many years like this, I really
have no more sense of what time even is. I wanted you to have an opportunity to
heal without pain, and to gather up your strength," the older man replied.
"You'll need your strength for…whatever happens next."
"Whate'er happens next?"
Ryder looked down at the floor and frowned. "Yes. See, Miss Rachel plans
to…she's ready for some of your…" He couldn't bring himself to say the words
even though he knew the task. "You'll need all your strength so you don't get
too weak afterward."
"After what?"
The incubus sighed, knowing he had no choice but to tell Rory what was coming
for him. "She's anxious to take some of your blood. Sadly, I know she has no
intention of using a needle, or fangs, or even a small prick of the finger."
Rory paled. "What does she intend to use?" His throat was dry again and his
heart was pounding louder than the rumbles of hunger in his stomach.
"I can't tell you. I can't because I don't know for sure. I do know that she
has some…sadistic tendencies and—I can't say anymore. It makes me sick," Ryder
replied, still staring down.
"Then help me. Help me out of here. We can both escape and we can get Sam and
me friends to protect ye' too," Rory pleaded. He took Ryder's hand and tugged
for his attention. "Come on, help me."
Ryder gulped and closed his eyes, forcing away the moisture forming in the
corners of his eyes. "I can't. There is no escape for me from here, and there's
no escape for you. You have to trust me on that. The only way you're getting
out of here is if this Sam or your friends can break you out. Even then, they
would have one hell of a fight on their hands. Artie, Kitty, and others that
would stop them."
"Sam won't let any o' that stop him," Rory argued confidently. "He's coming for
me, I know it, and when he does, we'll take ye' too. Sam has friends that will
help him, then Artie and Kitty and whoe'er else Rachel has in her army won't
stand a chance." Rory smiled, but the fear in his eyes told the truth. He was
terrified that Sam might come, and might not make it to him. That Sam might be
killed, or worse.
-ooo-
Sam walked into Scandals, thankful that Sebastian was not on his throne. It
meant the sheriff was most likely in his office, or down in the basement with
one of his many 'toys'. One of Sebastian's favorite ways to kill boredom was to
seduce a heterosexual fangbanger, take him to the basement, put him up in a
sling, and relentlessly penetrate him for hours on end. By the time he was
sated, the poor victim would be sore for a week or longer with no idea what
happened due to a little glamouring. The only hint the man would have that
something was amiss besides the intense ache was that his loins would begin to
stir whenever he looked at Sebastian. It was a hobby that disgusted Sam, more
because of the deception and abuse of power than the sexual aspect.
The vampire didn't bother to knock on the office door. He simply threw it open,
finding both Sebastian and Santana at the desk. Santana was counting cash into
a lockbox, ticking off items in a ledger while Sebastian was engrossed in his
computer. They both looked up at the intrusion, a mixture of curiosity and
annoyance on their faces.
"It's rude to just barge in. What if we were in a state of undress?" Sebastian
asked sarcastically.
"Nothing I haven't seen before. We have a problem," Sam announced, skipping the
formalities. He stood in front of the desk, looking down at the sheriff.
"Oh, 'we' do, do 'we'? And what might that be?" the older man questioned,
raising an eyebrow. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his
head and kicking his feet up on the desktop, more out of disrespect for the
younger vampire than for comfort.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, 'we' do. Rory's been taken by that banshee bitch."
All overtones of sarcasm and humor left Sebastian's face immediately, the man
dropping his feet from the desk and sitting upright. Santana continued what she
was doing, but glanced up at the sudden change in her maker's demeanor.
"That's right. She took him. I don't believe she'll kill him, but when she gets
his blood inside of her…" Sam began, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"She'll practically be a god," Sebastian finished for him. "We have to rescue
him," he added gravely. "It worries me though. She still has that succubus, and
she was pretty challenging to fight. If she has more of those on her side, we
might be in for one hell of a battle."
Sam nodded in agreement. "That's why we need to get together everyone we have
on our side to help. You two, me, the shifters Mike and Tina. I have a warlock
friend as well. Two humans who are friends of Rory's and insist on helping are
also coming along. Do you have anyone else you can call in favors from?"
Sebastian scoffed. "Not really. Not for something this important."
"What about The Authority?" the blonde asked hopefully.
The sheriff shook his head. "They won't care. Unless it involves the vampires
directly, they won't bat an eye. The life of a leprechaun-human hybrid is the
least of their concerns." He stared at the desperate man, genuinely saddened
that he had to deliver a negative answer. "Forget it, Sam. The Authority
is not an option."
Sam sighed. "I can count on you two though?"
"Yes," Sebastian said without hesitation. Santana simply rolled her eyes,
knowing she didn't really have a choice. If her maker ordered her to help
rescue the leprechaun, then she would give it her best, but only out of
obligation.
"Good. Now the hard part is finding out where they are," Sam lamented. "Where
would a banshee hide out, anyway?"
"Stonehenge," Santana offered cheerfully. "It is Celtic after all." She still
didn't bother looking up from her task as bills flipped through her fingers at
a lightning pace.
"Very funny. Stonehenge is all the way overseas," Sam stated. "I doubt she went
all the way back there. Besides, it's just a bunch of big rocks."
Sebastian chuckled and sat back again. "She very well may have taken him to
Ireland, however. Think about it. The only reason she came here was for the
leprechaun. Why would she stay? If you ask me, I'm willing to bet she's in some
old castle in Ireland, waiting for his rescuers to come barging in like knights
in shining armor."
All three vampires were startled as Sam's cell phone rang. It was Blaine.
"Sam, we recruited Tina and Mike and came back to your house. When we got here,
something was waiting for you. A package. I think you need to get back as soon
as you can," Blaine said. He didn't wait for a reply before hanging up, simply
saying he would see them soon.
"I guess it's off to the Evans Estate we go then," Sebastian smirked.
Santana shoved the money in the lockbox and turned around, locking it in a
larger steel safe. Without a word she left the room to inform their employees
that she and Sebastian would be out of town for an undetermined period of time.
She didn't trust herself to keep quiet this time—she had no tolerance for Sam
Evans or his pet leprechaun.
"We'll take our own means of travel. I've been wanting an excuse to drive the
Bentley again," Sebastian bragged. Sam rolled his eyes and left, anxious to
return home and find out what the mystery package was all about.
-ooo-
"Jeez, Samuel, you really tore this place up," Santana scoffed as she and
Sebastian followed the younger vampire into his home. "Good thing you aren't a
woman. I would hate to see you on the rag."
"That's disgusting, Santana," Sebastian scolded, wrinkling his nose. The three
of them paused in the living room, where the rest of the group was gathered.
"Quick introductions for everyone who doesn't know each other," Sam said as he
began to point to each of his associates. "Sebastian, Santana, Mercedes, Kurt,
Mike, Tina, Blaine. Now you all know each other and we can get on to business."
He then turned his attention to Blaine. "Let's see this mystery package."
Blaine handed Sam a small box about the size of a carton of cereal. On the
front of it was Sam's name in fancy script, with the words 'Open Me'
underneath. Sam rolled his eyes at the childish order but complied anyway,
tearing off the brown paper from the box. He pulled open the flaps and inside
he found something very unpleasant.
All three humans plus the two shifters jumped back in horror at the item inside
the box. It was a human hand, cauterized at the end, with an envelope attached
to it with a ribbon. Sam examined the hand carefully, verifying that it indeed
was not his boyfriend's.
"It's not Rory's. It's a woman's hand," Sam announced. A collective sigh of
relief filled the room, and then an uneasy silence as the realization that this
had been a hand belonging to a human set in. This hand could have belonged to
any one of them, and the fact that it wasn't Rory's was a relief, but it was
still awful.
The vampire snatched the envelope away, tucking the hand back into the box and
setting it on the floor at his feet. He opened the envelope and took out a
piece of paper—a letter.
Vampire,
I have your leprechaun. You have no chance of ever recovering him from my home,
however you are more than welcome to join him in servitude. I have no intention
of killing him, so I'm sure he would love if you came for a visit and kept him
company for the eternity I need him to stay here . I promise you that he is in
most excellent hands and will remain so. I highly advise you to pledge yourself
to me and come to stay with him. If he stays happy, his purpose here will be
much better served. I strongly suggest that you not even think for a moment of
fighting; his fate is sealed either way. Enclosed in this letter is the address
of my home should you care to discuss your servitude. Do not come here looking
for confrontation. I will only entertain your pledge of service and nothing
more.
Most Sincerely,
Miss Rachel Berry
Following her name was a golden star-shaped ornament. As mentioned in the
letter, her address was written on a separate sheet of paper.
"That's pretentious," Santana commented casually. "She's so full of herself
it's disgusting."
"No kidding. Is she so stupid to think you would actually agree to being her
slave?" Blaine remarked, looking right at Sam. "You aren't considering that,
right?"
Sam looked up and locked eyes with Blaine. "No. I won't be her slave, and
neither will he."
"The address is in Ireland. That's gonna be pretty tough getting there with our
weapons and stuff," Mercedes pointed out.
"Not necessarily," Sebastian stated. "Arrangements can be made
through…'special' transportation services."
The rest of the group stared at him, only Sam and Santana understanding what he
was referring to. Sam groaned, already fearing that this was going to be an
unpleasant journey to Ireland.
-ooo-
Rachel sat on the luxurious bed in her massive bedroom, her silk nightgown
nearly transparent, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kitty was behind her,
tending to Rachel's beautiful brown hair with a hairbrush made of fine bristles
and a ruby handle.
"Is it wise to trust Ryder Lynn to the care of your new pet, mistress?" Kitty
asked casually. "He is an incubus after all. You know they can be so
unpredictable."
Rachel rolled her eyes, but Kitty couldn't see. Kitty was Rachel's right hand
woman, the only being that truly understood what she was trying to achieve. The
pair were practically lovers, except the banshee had the succubus completely
under her control. Being so close, however, Kitty was one of few who could
speak so candidly to the powerful songstress.
"To be honest, I don't entirely trust him. I can tell just by the way he tended
to the boy when I backhanded him for…disrespecting me." Rachel couldn't bring
herself to actually say what it was Rory had done to spite her. Kitty didn't
need to know the humiliating moment when a leprechaun spat in her face.
Kitty grinned mischievously. "I could always keep an eye on him for you. You
know mistress, I could easily wrap him under my spell if I could just have a
little taste of the boy." She had been itching to get just one tiny drop of the
leprechaun's blood, knowing that it would enhance her abilities enough to
seduce any creature she wanted to, and ever since Ryder Lynn had come into the
castle, she had wanted him very badly.
"I know what you're up to, Kitty. I suppose I could reward you for helping me
capture the little fairy. You did such a good job even if you took a few
unfortunate blows," the banshee said wistfully. "Yes, I think you deserve just
a tiny little taste of what the young boy has to offer."
The succubus' eyes glowed a bright teal, her excitement suddenly lighting up.
"You don't know just how much that means to me," she said, leaning around and
kissing Rachel lightly on the cheek.
Rachel grinned as her protégé continued to brush her hair. "You can play with
them both, if you want, but the leprechaun is not to be incapacitated. You know
how important he is. Have fun with him, toy with him, but I want him in good
condition for his first bleeding."
Kitty's lips turned into a wide smile, her eyes still glowing with pleasure.
She knew just what she was going to do, and it was going to be delightful.
-ooo-
Kitty didn't bother to knock on the door to Rory's room. She glided right
inside, the door shutting behind her. "Hello, Ryder," she cooed with her
sexiest smile. She had changed from her nightgown into something much more
alluring. A tight-fitting pleated skirt, a see-through top, and little else.
Her hair hung free around her, freshly curled.
"What is it, Kitty? Does Mistress Rachel know you're here? She gave strict
orders to keep the boy sequestered from everyone but me until he was called
for," Ryder asked, annoyed.
"It just so happens that she does. She decided I deserve a little reward for
helping snag the fae. Five drops of his blood from the sweetest artery on his
body," she informed him. Rory had yet to be aware of her presence. He was
sitting in the adjoining room, listening to some classical music Ryder had
brought to him and reading an old novel from the bookcase.
"No! You can't be serious!" Ryder objected, standing from his seat. "I won't
let you hurt him!"
Kitty put her finger directly in the middle of his chest and locked eyes with
him. "You don't have a choice. If I go back and tell the mistress you
interfered with my reward, you know exactly what will happen. I don't have to
tell you how horrible it would be, for you and the boy."
Ryder's shoulders slumped, a look of pure despair on his face. The succubus was
right—if he interfered, both he and Rory would be punished severely.
Satisfied with her intimidation, Kitty turned and strolled into the next room
where Rory was sitting in an oversized chair. She stood in front of him and
smiled sweetly, waving her hand at him. "Hi there," she said cutely.
Rory immediately stood up and backed away from her. He raised his hands, his
fists already feeling hot and glowing slightly. "Get away from me!"
"Oh calm down, I won't hurt you. Much," the woman replied, arching her eyebrow.
"You see, the mistress rewards those who succeed for her, and I have been
promised five drops of blood from your sweetest artery."
"What the hell are ye' talking about?" Rory asked, not backing down at all. He
was hesitant to actually fight with the woman—she was much stronger than he
was, and incredibly fast. "Ye' didn't succeed in anything! Ye' got ye'r arse
kicked and she had to come get me herself. What 'ave ye' done to deserve
anything at all?"
Kitty sighed. "Ryder!" she called out. "Would you come in here and…oh, make him
cooperate? If I do it, I might just make something unpleasant happen." She had
no intention of acknowledging that the boy had a very valid point. Kitty knew
the only reason Rachel had really rewarded her was because of their close
relationship. She also knew that the relationship was mostly in her own head,
that Rachel's emotions for her were merely out of self-interest.
Ryder quickly appeared behind the bewildered teenager, his strong hands on the
boy's biceps. "Put your arms down, Rory. There's no point trying to fight her,"
he said sadly. "I'm sorry, but the sooner we get this over with, the better.
I'll be right here with you, I promise."
"But…What's going on? What's she going to do?" Rory asked, turning to face
Ryder, fear in his bright blue eyes. "What's she gonna do to me?"
Ryder hung his head, refusing to look his charge in the eyes. "She's going to
take a tiny bit of your blood. From your groin."
"What!?" Rory shouted. "No! If she wants it so bad why can't she take it from
somewhere else, like me arm?"
"She was promised the sweetest artery, and that happens to be in the inner
thigh, where the groin muscles are. It's going to be unpleasant, but the sooner
we get it over with, the sooner you can forget about it and she'll leave. I
swear, I will be right here with you."
Rory sighed, feeling defeated. "That's all she's going to do, right? Nothing
else?"
"Oh quit worrying already and get your pants off," Kitty chimed in. "I'll make
it quick just so I don't have to listen to your whining." She then let out a
chuckle that sent shivers down both male's spines. "Oh and Ryder, you won't be
using your so called charms on him to make this easy for him. I want him to
scream for me. I want him to beg me to stop."
Ryder reluctantly led Rory back to the bedroom, motioning for him to lay back
at the end of the bed, his legs hanging over the side. The incubus gently
removed the teen's pants and underwear then sat beside him.
"I'll hold your hand, alright? When it hurts, just squeeze," Ryder instructed.
Rory slowly nodded, feeling humiliated being on display for the succubus; a
creature well known for her seductive abilities who had very well seen numerous
men with much better bodies than his.
Kitty sauntered into the room, surveying her prey. She reached behind her and
pulled out a small knife, the blade shining in the light. With a smile, she
knelt down between the boy's widely parted legs, caressing his thighs and
brushing against his crotch until he achieved an involuntary erection.
"Very nice, leprechaun. Your vampire must have been very satisfied," she
complimented, admiring his stiff organ. Her eyes then turned to his inner thigh
as she brought the small blade down, grazing his skin. "This is going to hurt.
A lot," she warned, grinning.
Rory felt like his entire lower body was on fire as the knife pierced his
flesh. It didn't go deep—Kitty was only allowed a very tiny bit—but the
sensation of pain was still the same. Tears slid down from his eyes as he
squeezed Ryder's hand with strength he didn't even know he had. After a moment,
he felt the blade retreat, replaced by Kitty's soft lips. He felt her cool hand
wrapping around his penis, agonizingly slowly stroking him up and down. He felt
like his body was betraying him, allowing him to feel pleasure at this demon's
touch.
Moaning in pleasure, Kitty finally pulled back, licking the wound, which
quickly closed up as she ran her finger across the parted flesh. She stood,
releasing her grip on the teen's pulsing dick and staring at him, then up at
Ryder.
"That was amazing," the woman declared, licking her lips. She felt her body
warm as the liquid drained down her throat and into her core. It was like every
single nerve in her flesh was tingling with power. "And now, boys, I get to
have a little fun with you."
"What are you talking about? You said you were here for blood, and now you got
it. What else do you want?" Ryder demanded, still holding the teen's hand. He
could feel a pulsing heat that was quickly fading away from the young man's
grip.
Kitty grinned, approaching the incubus and tracing her finger along his
collarbone. "You, of course. I've wanted you for ages, Ryder. That muscular
body, that adorable face. That very large cock. I've seen it. I know how it
looks engorged, and I hunger for it, but you have denied me all these years.
Now that I've had his blood, I am strong enough to seduce even you."
Ryder stood up, letting go of Rory's hand. "You wouldn't dare! I
will never succumb to you. I would rather die," he seethed.
Annoyed, Kitty looked down at the pained boy. His face was still red from his
tears, his nose still swollen, and his eyes still blackened. She then looked up
at Ryder, into his pretty eyes on his boyish face. Her eyes began to glow a
faint red.
"No!" Ryder yelled, but it was all for naught. He already felt his body losing
control as Kitty worked her magic on him. He tore his clothes off in a few
swift motions, leaving himself standing there before her, nude and aroused.
"There's that massive cock I have been waiting for," Kitty said, licking her
lips. There were already beads of precum dripping from the slit. As soon as her
eyes stopped glowing, Ryder's gaze shifted down at his hurt friend, lying
vulnerable on the bed.
Kitty was furious as she watched him stare at the boy, but she maintained
composure. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" she asked coyly. Ryder nodded
slightly.
"He's kind, even in unfortunate circumstances. He's a purity you will never
understand."
Kitty huffed. "You have it bad for him. I haven't seen you this bad since…" she
trailed off, deciding not to voice whatever memory she was thinking of. "Well,
I guess there's only one thing to do. You need to consummate the relationship.
Show him your love," she said, placing her fingertip under his chin and staring
into his eyes again. "Show him your love, Ryder. Take him for yours, and show
him your love."
"No!" Ryder shouted again. "I refuse! I will never do that to him!"
Kitty's eyes glowed again as she stared at Ryder. "Oh my dear, you don't have a
choice. I easily stripped you. I can just as easily force you into him. You're
so in love with the boy, your body aches for him, doesn't it?" she taunted.
"You want to feel him writhe beneath you in pleasure and pain as you make him
yours. It's in your nature. It's what you do, Ryder. Stop being afraid of it."
Again, Ryder felt his body become helpless, losing control. He tried to fight
it, but it was useless. Kitty's magic was strong, and it was working on him.
She continued to taunt him with encouraging words, urging the incubus to make
Rory his own. The weakened boy was still on the bed, hurting, confused, dizzy
and afraid. It had only been five drops of blood, but there was something in
Kitty's very being that seemed to paralyze him, much like Ryder's numbing
spell.
"Kitty, please, stop this," Ryder pleaded. "This isn't right and you know it!"
Kitty smiled and glanced over at the human lying on the bed. "He looks so much
like him, doesn't he?"
Ryder's face paled a sickening white. "Don't… this is beyond cruel, Kitty.
Don't do this, I'm begging you."
Instead of arguing, the succubus' eyes glowed brighter, and Ryder felt his body
lose complete control. He felt something unnatural creeping into him, every
nerve in his body igniting with lust until it was painful.
"Go on, do it. You know how bad you want it. It'll be so easy. Just slide into
him, fill him. Fill him with your demonic seed," Kitty went on. "Take him. It's
your nature, don't deny it," she cooed. "It's been too long for you, hasn't it?
He looks just likehim. Maybe he's a reincarnation. Maybe he's just temptation.
Maybe he's here just to fulfill your needs. Whatever it is, take him. Now," she
ordered.
Ryder approached Rory in a trance-like state. Never before had he felt so
powerless as his hands hitched the boy's legs up onto his shoulders, exposing
the innocent orifice to his massive erection. "I'm so sorry, Rory. Forgive me."
Rory didn't have the strength to protest. Kitty's spell was so strong that it
was immobilizing, and his leg felt numb and useless from her injury against
him. His erection had subsided, but he was left incredibly weakened. She had
done something else to him besides cut him, but what it was he had no idea. He
tried to summon forth his light, but all that happened were pale yellow
crackles from his fingertips. I'm going to die. He's going to… Oh God, why
can't I move? Why can't I make me power happen? I need it or else this is going
to.. Ryder is going to… he's gonna rape me… He felt himself being manipulated
into a vulnerable position with the aid of rough, strong hands. He felt his
shirt being torn from his body, leaving him naked. He felt a large, muscular
body in front of him, spreading his legs apart before something wet was spread
on his rear. It was the dripping head of his caretaker's massive cock preparing
to enter. He knew what was coming, and he was afraid but powerless to stop
it. Please make this stop. God please help me! Sam, come get me! Me body is for
Sam, no one else. I can't let this…
He screamed in agony as his ass lit on fire at the pain of something large
entering him, roughly penetrating, sliding in and out, slamming into him over
and over. It was nothing like what Sam had done with him. Sam was gentle,
loving, tender. Sam made him feel special and aroused. This was entirely alien
to him. He was being violated, tortured against his will by an unnaturally
sized penis belonging to a monster.
He cried tears of terror and pain, called out for help until a hand clasped
over his mouth. He heard loud, feminine laughter and equally loud, masculine
grunting with every thrust. He felt his insides suddenly flooding with burning
hot liquid, the manly groaning becoming louder still as his assailant achieved
orgasm. Their eyes locked for the first time since it began and what he saw in
Ryder's eyes was terrifying. No longer did he see the kind man that had
befriended him. Instead, he saw pure lust, fueled by primal instincts of
desire.
Ryder was locked in a state of passion, or what his body believed was passion.
Kitty's magic was tearing his mind to pieces. At first he felt like dying,
anything to end the ordeal. Once he had inserted himself, however, everything
changed. His mind suddenly turned him into a sexual beast with one purpose: to
fuck at any cost.
The closer the incubus came to orgasm, the more intensely the evil in his brain
became. He was turned on all the more by the weak, writhing body beneath him.
His cock grew harder still as he watched the boy's tears flow freely. He was
being controlled by animalistic cruelty. The more pain he caused his charge,
the harder he pounded. When Rory finally gave up struggling, Ryder cried out in
pleasure, filling the teen up with hot cum until it overflowed, dripping out of
his damaged hole as he pulled out.
Time passed but Rory knew not how much. It could have been simply minutes or
hours or more. He was in so much pain that he couldn't comprehend anything
except the hurt. He didn't know which hurt worse—the raping dick, or the
feeling of betrayal from his friend. His head was swimming with so many
emotions he thought his brain might explode. It was then that he passed out,
but the torment was not over. Ryder went on to have two more ruthless orgasms
that Rory would not know about even once he woke again in Ryder's arms.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 11: War - Part 1 *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: It's June 10th as I work on this revision and I am
     just insanely excited! Sunday is the new season of True Blood and the
     release of this story! Of course by the time you are actually reading
     these notes it will be like mid-September and True Blood will have
     ended. :p

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 11: War, Part 1
"Is this everything?" Blaine asked, looking in the back of the large black van
parked in Sam's driveway. Inside were several different types of weapons,
protective armor, and various other 'adventure gear.' The driver of the van
looked bored, playing a game on his cell phone and yawning.
"Yes. This is everything. What about you? Do you have everything you need to
work spells and magic? I don't really know a lot about that stuff to be
honest," Sam replied, staring into Blaine's eyes. While Mercedes and Kurt and
even Mike usuallyrefused to look the vampire directly in the eyes, neither
Blaine nor Tina showed any signs of fear.
"Pretty much, yes. Most of it can be done with incantations, mental projection,
that sort of thing. As far as actual items I may need, I have a limited supply
but can manage just fine."
Sam admired the teen's willingness to help his friend. Out of everyone he had
met through Rory, Blaine was the one he trusted most. Blaine was calm,
rational, and insightful. His mind was open and judgment just wasn't there. He
liked Tina, but shifters had an unspoken alliance with one another and if it
came down to it, he feared that Tina would side with Mike if necessary. Blaine
on the other hand seemed fully capable of making decisions that may not agree
with Kurt, but would hold to his convictions.
"Sebastian and Santana are meeting us at the airport. They'll have the coffins,
and the rest of the equipment. Maybe some more muscle if we're lucky," Sam
said. He gave Blaine a pained smile, wanting desperately to show his
appreciation despite how he felt at the moment.
Kurt and Mercedes were discussing something as they sat in a second black van,
Mike and Tina standing in the open vehicle door, speaking only through their
eyes. As Sam regarded them, he decided it might be best for 'team morale' to
make some sort of speech. Blaine followed him over to the van, crawling inside
to squeeze between his boyfriend and Mercedes.
Sam stood before them, Kurt, Blaine, and Mercedes all shifting in their seats
to give him their attention, Mike and Tina already paying consideration to him.
"I just wanted to formally thank you all. I know you aren't doing this for me;
you're doing it for Rory, but thank you. You're risking your lives for your
friend, and it's something that isn't often seen in my world. For vampires it's
generally every man or woman for themselves. Even after only a hundred and
fifty-three years I forget how different it is for humans. Rory is lucky to
have each and every one of you on his side," Sam announced, swallowing back his
emotions.
"Don't forget it. We're in this for him. Not for you, ever," Kurt stated
flatly. Blaine gave him a reproachful glare, silencing the boy. Sam merely hung
his head, hurt by the teen's harsh words. If only Rory's friends would see that
he had the best of intentions.
"We better get a move on," Sam said, eager to get away for just a few minutes.
The stern and angry stares from Kurt and hard expression from Mercedes were
like knives scraping his flesh. Even Mike had a disapproving look on his face.
Everyone except Sam finished piling into the second van, pulling the door
closed. Sam took the passenger side of the first van, staring out of the window
while the driver prepared to leave.
-ooo-
Sebastian leaned up against his Bentley, Santana standing beside him, filing
her nails in the typical 'annoyed and bored female sidekick' stance. She didn't
even look up when the other two vehicles pulled into the bright white hangar.
Sam stepped out of one of the black vans and immediately approached Sebastian.
"Everything ready?" he asked.
The sheriff smirked. "No hello? No 'how are you tonight Sebastian?' or even a
'thank you, Sebastian?'" Normally Sam would have scoffed and sarcastically come
back with something, but this time he truly was in the man's debt.
"Sorry. Thank you, Sebastian. Santana. Both of you," the blonde replied
dejectedly. "My crew is ready if yours is."
"Of course my team is ready. Everything is already on the plane, including
coffins and nutrition for your humans," the sheriff said proudly. "Speaking of,
where are they?"
As if on cue, the rest of the group emerged from their vehicle. Sebastian
glanced across the entire group, a sly smile on his face. "Let's see, three
humans, two shifters, and a vampire. What a motley crew."
Santana chuckled, standing up straight and then heading toward the stairwell
leading inside the aircraft.
"After you, friends," Sebastian said, motioning to the humans and shifters. His
sarcastic emphasis on the word 'friends' was unsettling, even to Blaine and
Tina. The only thing keeping any of them from bailing was the fact that it
would lessen Rory's chances for survival the fewer people they had.
Kurt reluctantly followed Blaine up the steps, never letting go of his hand as
they disappeared inside. Mercedes refused to even look in Sebastian's
direction, and the two shifters merely gave him courteous nods as they boarded.
Finally, Sam marched up inside, followed by Sebastian. The ladder was rolled
back and the door to the airplane was closed, sealing them all inside a rather
ornate aircraft.
"Make yourselves at home. We'll leave as soon as the cargo hold is loaded with
your additional items. Once we're in the air, feel free to partake of our food
and drinks. Human food and drinks, of course," Sebastian announced to his
guests. "The trip should take close to nine hours depending on the winds, so I
encourage you all to use the time to rest. We have-"
"Yes, we know, a huge battle ahead of us, blah blah blah," Kurt barked.
Sebastian cocked his head and looked at the human, his face blank. "Hmm. How
rude. As I was saying, we have a very tedious altercation ahead of us. Be
prepared." With that, he strolled to the back of the cabin and joined Santana
on a love seat, the still-annoyed vampiress filing down her nails for theatric
effect.
Sam sat alone in an oversized chair, his features reflecting only worry and
fear. The next several hours were going to be painfully slow. He closed his
eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees, head in hands. He wished Marley were
still around. Granted, if Marley were there, however, he most likely would not
be in this situation at all. In fact he would never even have met Rory let
alone fallen for him, which was far from what he wanted. If only Marley could
somehow be there with him, now, when he needed someone's support, it would have
helped immensely. The hallucination, or vision, or whatever it had been, in
which Marley had appeared to him had given him a sense of peace regarding his
relationship at least. What he could really use was her tender touch on his
cool flesh to hold his hand and tell him everything would be all right, and
that Rory would soon be back in his arms.
-ooo-
Ryder glared at Kitty as she stood over him, gloating in her victory. His body
was exhausted and his mind was shredded from the succubus' mental spells. After
being forced to ravage the teen on his bed, Kitty had forced Ryder to pleasure
her for many more hours, or so it seemed. Kitty knew how long, of course, but
not Ryder. To him, it had seemed like an eternity of agony while to her it was
finally what she had been craving ever since they met.
"You're so weak, Ryder. A pathetic incubus if I ever saw one. You had to have
help from a succubus to get what you wanted because you couldn't do it
yourself," the woman cackled. "I bet you couldn't even have kept your dick hard
if it wasn't for my magic. As it is, even I will be sore for a while. Every
squeeze of my thighs will bring forth the magnificent memories of this
evening," she added casually, examining her fingernails as if she had no cares
in the world.
"Get. Out," Ryder hissed between clenched teeth. It was all he could do not to
leap up and attack the woman, but he knew full well that in her enhanced state,
and his weakened body, she would break him in half without even batting an
eyelash.
"It's been a pleasure, boys, but I have things to attend to now," Kitty said,
then smirked and turned on her heel, her hair and dress flowing behind her as
she sauntered out of the room. Nobody would be able to tell she had just
participated in an almost violent round of lustful sex; her appearance was just
as flawless as when she first entered the room. Ryder mustered enough energy to
get up and slam the door behind her, cursing in several languages mixed
together.
Ryder crawled into the bed with his young friend, well aware of what had
happened. Kitty had used her ability on him to control him, and he had brutally
raped the boy he had quickly fallen in love with. From what his mind could
recall, he had raped the boy not once but three times. He took him until the
teen passed out from fear and pain. It didn't help Ryder's guilt knowing that
not only had he done that, but he had also allowed Kitty to cut the boy and
steal some of his blood, which had given her the power to control the incubus
in the first place.
The man lay next to Rory, pulling him into his arms. He hoped the boy wouldn't
wake up just yet because he knew Rory would be furious, hurt, scared. He would
reject Ryder with hatred and disgust. That was an event Ryder knew was coming
but wanted so badly to put off. Right then he merely wanted to comfort the boy,
hold him and keep him safe. Bang up job you've done of that so far, Ryder.
Great fucking job. I'm supposed to be watching over him, keeping him away from
harm until that banshee cunt needs him, and instead I let myself be overpowered
by that cackling bitch on a power high. Now look what I've done…
Ryder rocked back and forth with Rory in his arms, a grown incubus sobbing
uncontrollably for a human, repeating like a mantra, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Forgive me, I'm sorry." Kitty had been right; as an incubus he was indeed
pathetic. It was not in the nature of his kind to fall in love. Incubi and
succubi existed for one purpose, and that was for sexual pleasure and thrill.
Rape from an incubus or succubus nearly always resulted in a very unpleasant
end, not necessarily in death, but with a dramatically weakened body that could
easily be classified as catatonic. Over the decades, Ryder had seduced and even
raped many humans, male and female. Only once had he felt the way he felt for
Rory. He felt remorse at times, pity even, for his victims, but his nature
always won out, except with Rory and… a boy that Ryder refused to think about
at the moment. Kitty was right. He was a failure as an incubus, and she would
never let him forget it.
Hours later, when Rory finally regained consciousness, he quickly wished to
pass out again. He felt agonizing pain in his rear, his entire ass on fire in a
way he had never before experienced. His insides felt pummeled and his head was
swimming. He was weak; he could feel it all over. He felt a sharp, stabbing
pain in his inner thigh, and he remembered that had been done by a blade, by
Kitty. The rest was hazy, but he did recall being roughly undressed, mounted,
and penetrated by an oversized erection. He recalled begging for the man inside
of him to stop, screaming in pain and agony, but it all fell on deaf ears. He
remembered the final merciless thrusts inside of him and the warmth that spread
as he was filled with seed. He knew he had passed out at that point, and was
scared to even wonder what had happened after. Judging by the still-excessive
pain in his butt, he was willing to assume at least one more rigorous sexual
session, but he wouldn't be sure until Ryder woke up.
Ryder. Why is Ryder holding me? It was him. It was him who did this to me. I
trusted him, and he… he did this to me. He said we were friends, and he would
protect me. He lied. He lied and he raped me, without any compassion or mercy.
He meant to hurt me. He meant it to be painful for me. But if that's the case,
why is he holding me? Rapists don't hold their victims. I wonder if he … maybe
he feels bad. Oh well, feels bad or not, I can't forgive him for this. The look
he had seen in Ryder's eyes reappeared in his mind between torrents of
thoughts. The dark, lustful eyes that were filled with barbaric sexual desire.
He began to shudder and tears began to flow. How can I ever look at him the
same? Kitty was doing something to him, but could she make him do that? I
thought incubi were supposed to be powerful, like Kitty is, but he's just as
weak as a human if she can control him that way. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Fuck all
of this! I want to go home! I want to go back to Sam's now!
"Rory…" Ryder croaked as he rejoined the boy in wakefulness. The teen shoved
him off angrily, his rage suddenly taking over. Ryder could feel the stinging
sensation where Rory had shoved him. The teen had already begun to charge up
his power, to attack or defend, either way Rory was aggressive and ready to
take care of his so called friend.
"Get away from me!" Rory shouted, leaping off the bed. He wasn't fazed by his
own nudity; his anger was too strong to worry about such things as clothes.
Instead he stared down at the incubus, still on one side of the bed.
"Please, let me explain! I'm sorry; you will never know how sorry I am, but let
me explain!" Ryder pleaded, getting out of bed and putting his hands before
himself in surrender. "I swear, you don't know what her power was like! I had
no control over myself!"
Rory climbed out of bed, standing in front of Ryder, both of them nude except
for streaks of blood around Ryder's groin and Rory's backside. He approached
Ryder, locking eyes with him, a look of pure rage and hatred boring into the
incubus.
"Answer this question, and I advise ye' to answer carefully," Rory growled.
"Did. Ye'. Rape. Me?" He knew the answer but he wanted to hear the incubus say
the words.
Ryder hung his head, sniffling as tears began to flow down his cheeks. He fell
to his knees in front of the teen, reaching for the boy's hands and grasping
them. "Please… I had no choice, I-"
Rory yanked his hands out of Ryder's grip and placed them on the man's
shoulders. The heat quickly rose as he sent a surge of power through his hands,
the flash bright and fast. Ryder instantly sailed backward, crashing forcefully
into the wardrobe. He fell forward on his hands and knees, his back scratched
up from broken wood planks of the wooden closet.
Before the man had time to recover, Rory was upon him, crouching down and
gripping the man's neck. His hand was still warm, his grasp stronger than Ryder
would have expected from a human. He let himself be guided onto his feet as
Rory's eyes continued to dig into his own. "How dare ye'? I trusted ye', and
ye' took advantage of me. I promised to break ye' out o' here with me, and this
is how ye' treat me? What's wrong with ye'? What warped sense of justice and
humanity do ye' 'ave? I thought ye' were supposed to be powerful too! Did ye'
not want to resist? Did ye' want to go through with it?"
Ryder clawed at his throat, prying the teen's fingers away. He coughed several
times, trying to catch his breath and reorient himself. "Listen to me!" Ryder
bellowed, no longer in a state of submission. "I told you, I had no choice!
When Kitty drank your blood, it magnified her powers on a grand scale, and she
was able to work her succubi magic no matter how hard I tried to resist!" Now
it was his eyes that were boring into Rory's. He put his hands around the boy's
biceps and squeezed. "Now look at me. Know I am not lying to you. Think about
it. I've been nice to you since you got here. I don't have to be, I choose to
be. I went against my incubi nature and refused to seduce you. Do you think
that was easy? Do you think I had to do that? Did you know that Rachel gave me
permission to fuck you anytime I wanted, but I declined? Now stop assaulting me
and realize I'm speaking the truth!"
Rory was taken aback by the sudden change in Ryder's demeanor. He was taller
than Ryder, but the man was stronger and still intimidating. Ryder's words
began to resonate in his head. Leprechaun blood was indeed supposed to be a
power enhancer, as even Rachel herself explained. He could only assume it
worked on Kitty, and if Ryder was telling the truth, then maybe he really
couldn't stop himself.
Think, Rory, think! He's crying. He's got a good point. He doesn't have to be
nice, but he is. Does that make it easier for him to be controlled? She was
being pretty cruel, taunting him and stuff. I don't really know anything about
all of this. Incubus, succubus, banshee. What are these things anyway?
Something tells me that whatever they are, it isn't natural for an incubus to
be crying, and he is. Rory closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He
knew just how to find out the truth, the question was whether or not it would
actually work on an incubus.
Utilizing the skin-to-skin contact of Ryder's grip, Rory was able to draw out
the images in the man's head from the night before. It took a lot more
concentration and effort than when he read a human; it was an act he had to
force to occur even though they had made skin contact many times before. He
pulled out the image of Ryder comforting him, holding onto him while Kitty cut
him. The image of Ryder's argument with Kitty was very clear, but the memories
of the actual rape were fuzzy. Rory assumed it had to be because of the
succubus' influence, that somehow it warped memories and emotions, but he saw
what he needed to. He saw Ryder refusing, and he saw Kitty work her spell. He
saw it all through Ryder's eyes and it was then that he was able to begin to
absolve the man of his guilt.
As the realizations hit, Rory's eyes began to water. It was easier to blame
Ryder for the transgression, but knowing of his innocence complicated things.
He still felt hurt and betrayed even though he knew Ryder had been under a
spell. It would be difficult to forgive the man, and even more difficult to
forget the incident. He may have been disoriented, but the rape itself was
agonizingly vivid.
Ryder released Rory's arms and pulled him in for a tight hug as the pair of
them sobbed. "I'm sorry, Rory. I'm so, so sorry. I would give up my life to
take it back. Anything to take it back."
Rory said nothing as they both continued to cry in frustration, anger, fear,
confusion. After several minutes they parted, the teen sitting on the side of
the bed with a strong grimace. The look on the boy's face sent sharp pains
through Ryder's body as all could think about was how badly his manhood had
torn the boy up inside.
"Will you let me tend to you?" Ryder asked quietly. "You're hurt. I can speed
the healing, and reduce the pain. I can't make your mind heal but please, let
me try to make it right with your physical pain."
The leprechaun nodded, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about being nude with
a bloody backside in front of this man.
"We should wash off first, to rid ourselves of the blood. I will shower with
you, but only to make sure I get you clean. I won't hurt you, I promise," Ryder
assured him. Rory didn't reply but instead followed the man into the bathroom.
Ryder adjusted the hot water to a reasonable temperature and allowed Rory to
enter first.
"Damn!" Rory cried out as the piping hot liquid flowed over him. His eyes
teared up as the water traveled between his cheeks and invaded his abused
orifice.
Ryder stood behind the teen with a cloth, gently washing his body. "I'm sorry.
So, so, sorry," he repeated, the sounds of the teen's discomfort stabbing him
like a knife. The boy's body was incredibly arousing, but the situation
prevented Ryder from developing an erection. Instead he was able to function
just fine, carefully parting the firm globes and with great care, ridding him
of blood.
"I'm sorry! I know it hurts, but I have to make sure you're good and clean for
the salve to work. Just a minute more," the incubus said.
"Just hurry, please. It feels like… like someone put me arse in a blender and
ye'r pouring acid on it…"
The imagery would have made both males laugh in any other situation, but right
now it was anything but humorous. Ryder stayed silent as he finished his task,
then went about finishing the rest of their shower.
Once they had dried off, at Ryder's instruction Rory lay on the bed on his
stomach, placing his head on a pillow and forcing himself to relax. That was
easier said than done as Rory felt the man's fingers, slick with a salve,
pressing between his cheeks. When Ryder carefully inserted his coated finger,
Rory thought he might scream in agony, but within seconds the cream soothed his
torn hindquarters.
"I'm sorry; I know that was painful. It will be awhile before you can have
receptive sex again. If you try, the pain will be great, blood will return, and
things will just end up a big debacle. You would be wise to wait a couple of
weeks until the swelling goes down and you've had time to acclimate," Ryder
explained. "When Sam arrives to rescue you, I will tell him myself about all
this, and let him decide what to do with me. If he throws me back in prison or
servitude, it is only fair for what I did. He deserves to hear my confession
from me, not from anyone else."
"Ryder… ye' know that when Sam finds out, he'll kill ye'. I 'ave no doubts; Sam
will kill ye'. More importantly, I want to tell him, when I'm ready. I can't do
it yet; it's too fresh. I want him to think clearly because in all honesty,
ye'r good at heart, and to lose someone else, especially a friend, would be the
worst pain I could suffer. I've lost enough already."
"If he did kill me, it would be because I deserve it. What I did… it's
inexcusable. Even under a spell, the deed is done, and I am responsible for the
action." Ryder hung his head, fighting back more tears. "I know it seems weird
that I even care about Sam and his reaction. I don't even know him, but he's
important to you and…" he trailed off, preferring not to finish the
conversation. "How does—uh how do you feel now?" he asked, referring to Rory's
tender opening.
Rory winced slightly before answering. "It still hurts. Like a bruise that has
constant pressure on it, and some burning pain. It feels like I was gutted out
of me arse," he replied. He knew his description was overly graphic, but he
couldn't help but lay on a little guilt.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry. You know, if it would tear me up the same way, I would
let you rape me until I cried in agony, and than some. Anything if it would
make it better. I would let you do whatever you wanted to dish out in
retaliation and I wouldn't fight it," the incubus declared. "I wouldn't even
fault you if you wanted to kill me yourself."
"Shut up with all that talk, Ryder. I'm angry at ye', but I don't want ye'
dead. I'm not that kind o' person. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't get off
on causing people pain and suffering. I don't want to rape anyone, or beat them
or anything. I don't even want to fight Rachel or Kitty, but I don't 'ave much
choice. So just shut up with that talk," Rory scolded him, his eyes harsh.
"Besides, I saw in ye'r head. It was Kitty that made ye' do it. If I want to
kill anyone, it's her."
Ryder couldn't help but crack a smile. "You're a good person, Rory Flanagan.
There are no better words. You're just a good person with the biggest heart I
ever saw, and I've seen a lot of hearts. Literally and figuratively," he
confessed.
"That's really gross. Seeing real hearts and stuff."
Ryder chuckled. "It's not the most pleasant thing but it comes with the
territory," he said. They were quiet for a few more minutes as Ryder applied
some more of the salve to the teen's butt, concentrating to keep from having an
erection at the intimate touch. When he was finished, he made a simple request
of the teen. "Can I hug you?"
"O' course," Rory replied, confused as to why it was even a question. He rolled
over onto his side and sat up on his elbow as Ryder leaned in, wrapping his
arms around the boy. Several more tears fell from Ryder's eyes and streaked his
cheeks.
"Can I hold you? I know it sounds weird since you have Sam and all, but… after
everything I did to you, I want to feel like I can protect you again. I promise
it won't be sexual. Just friends, looking out for each other." The incubus
asked.
Rory thought a moment, more concerned with the intimacy than worrying about
sexual contact. Ryder was genuinely sorry and he could tell, especially after
having seen his memories of the night before. He finally consented, the incubus
sliding into the bed next to him, pulling him into his arms. It was strange at
first, feeling the man's bare chest against his back, feeling Ryder's genitals
brush against his sore ass, but never did Ryder get an erection nor make any
move to do something sexual. He merely held onto Rory for dear life.
-ooo-
Sam stared at the television screen, the picture not really registering in his
head. All he could focus on was his plan to rescue his boyfriend. He sat alone,
nobody wanting to sit with him as they flew to Ireland on the airplane
commissioned by the Vampire International Transportation Association, or VITA.
They specialized in air travel for vampires, the bodies of the planes
containing no windows whatsoever. Fiberglass coffins lined one side of the
plane, while the other side had several rows of seats large enough to put first
class seats on regular airlines to shame. The plane was spacious, not
containing anywhere near the amount of seats as a typical aircraft due to the
much smaller passenger manifests.
Blaine came up to Sam and sat down next to him. "We're going to get him out of
there. We've all got your back. We're ready for this," he assured the vampire.
"I know. That's what bothers me. All of you, risking your lives. Because of me,
and because of the banshee."
"How is any of this your fault, Sam? The banshee would have come regardless of
whether or not you were around. At least with you, he has a chance," Blaine
said. "I mean, look at you. You're a kick-ass vampire, with two other vampire
friends, not to mention a powerful warlock, two shifters, and two very pissed
off humans with weapons. Do you think he would have all of this on his side if
it wasn't for you? No, so stop blaming yourself and get your head in the game.
There's no half-assing this."
Sam let the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. "Thank you," he said
softly. "That makes me feel a little better. I just don't want anybody getting
hurt."
Blaine's face was filled with resolve. "We all know the stakes and the risks.
We're prepared to do what we have to do." His eyes bored into Sam's, insisting
Sam trust his judgment. "Maybe you should get some rest. You're gonna need all
your strength."
"You're right," the blonde replied. "We should all get some rest. We still have
several hours yet." Sam stood up, stepping past the warlock and heading to one
of the coffins. He paused and turned to Blaine. "Thanks again. I think that pep
talk was just when I needed."
"No problem," Blaine replied with a smile. "Besides, none of us are doing this
for you. We're doing it for Rory, so there's no way you can feel guilty."
Sam smiled back and lifted the lid of a coffin. He climbed in and pulled the
lid closed from the inside. Within seconds he was fast asleep.
-ooo-
Kitty stood before the large mirror in her bedroom, admiring her own beauty.
She could still feel the leprechaun's blood coursing through her body and it
was having interesting effects on her. Kitty's eyes were brighter, more
alluring with an aura of danger. Her lips were perfectly moistened, shining in
the dim light of the room. Her skin took on a more porcelain look, not a single
imperfection any longer visible.
She wore a translucent red gown exposing her flesh despite the covering Her
long color-streaked blonde hair hung loosely around her figure in large curls.
She was so busy admiring her new physical touches that she didn't notice she
had a visitor until she turned around, intending to gaze at her firm rear end
in the reflective surface.
"Oh, hello Ryder. Come to thank me again?" she cooed, her phony smile pasted
across her face. The incubus stared at her, his eyes cold and hard, his face
otherwise expressionless. "You seem a little upset."
In a flash, Ryder rushed the woman, his hand grasping her neck as he shoved her
backward into the mirror. It shattered, the pieces falling to the floor, but
Kitty didn't seem to notice.
The woman mewled as she reached up to unclench Ryder's fingers from her throat.
No longer in his grip, she stood on her own two feet again, unbothered by the
shards of reflective glass under her soles. "Nice try, sweetie. You know there
is no way in hell that you can take me. Not even before the blood, and surely
not after."
"You better leave him alone. Never touch him again," Ryder hissed. "He's too
good for your touch."
Kitty rolled her eyes. "You're delusional. You annoy me, and if you piss me
off, I may just kill you. You do know that the mistress has given me that
power, right?"
"What? You're not serious!" Ryder exclaimed in surprise.
"Oh yes," the succubus said, smiling. She slowly approached him, tracing her
fingertip along his chiseled chest, visible under his open shirt. "I believe
her orders were to exterminate any detriment to the well being of the
leprechaun or its longevity."
"Rory is not an 'it'! He's a person," Ryder insisted. "And aside from the
atrocity you forced me to commit, I would never be a detriment to his well
being or length of his life. You'd never be able to justify it."
The succubus grinned even wider, if it were possible at all. "You'd be dead. I
could tell her anything I wanted to." She put her hands on her cheeks in a
theatric expression. "Oh no! Ryder tried to rape the boy and was going to kill
him so I just had to stop him! Oh, you mean I can keep the boy? I always wanted
a pet!" she mocked, followed by high-pitched tittering.
Ryder rushed forward again and backhanded her, the bones in his wrist cracking
loudly on contact. He cried out in pain, falling to his feet and grabbing his
arm.
"Incubi. Stupid," Kitty rolled her eyes. She stooped down and grabbed Ryder by
the throat and dragged him across the floor toward her door. "Just get out. I'm
bored with you," she said, tossing him out like a bag of garbage. She slammed
the door in his face and chuckled loudly enough for him to hear through the
barrier.
Ryder trudged back to Rory's room, nursing his broken bones. Luckily for him,
accelerated healing was part of the incubus power-package, so he would be fully
healed up in the better part of a day. That didn't mean it would hurt any less
until then. He had gone to Kitty with intent to work some of his anger out on
her, even though he knew it was a stupid thing to do. He was simply so angry
with her, and with himself, yet he had no outlet for his rage but he couldn't
think of anything else to do.
"Are ye' okay? Ye' look like ye'r in pain," Rory observed as Ryder slumped down
on the edge of the bed.
"I'll be fine by day's end. I think I made my point," Ryder replied. Yeah, my
point that I'm still a rag doll compared to her.
"Maybe ye' should get some rest. I bet e'en an ink-you-bus needs his sleep to
be at full strength," Rory said, over-emphasizing the syllables in 'incubus'.
"Ye' can't protect me and take care o' me if ye'r too worn out."
Ryder looked over at him with saddened eyes. "I couldn't protect you from
myself, could I? I can't keep you safe. You see that now, right?"
"Let's not talk about what happened right now. Rest. I think I'm gonna go sit
in some hot water in the tub for a bit. Might help with the aching," Rory said.
He hadn't intended his remark to be mean, but maybe just a slight bit guilting.
Ryder had done what he could to assist in his healing, but aches and pains
didn't go away quite as easily as actual wounds and Rory was still very upset
about the raping incident. He kept going back and forth in his head, unsure how
much of the blame should be Ryder's. It was obvious that Kitty was at fault for
everything, but just how much could Ryder have prevented or made himself stop
was what had him confused. Ryder had been consistently kind to him, and
protective, but he couldn't figure out if all that meant nothing now, or if it
still held any weight.
-ooo-
Rory awoke to the sound of Artie's voice booming in the room. "Get up,
leprechaun! Prepare and be in the throne room within the hour," he said,
glaring at the teenager. "You're expected to be clean and your keeper will
dress you." He gave a sneer as he said the word 'keeper.' It was obvious that
he, like Kitty, felt disdain for the incubus. Not waiting for a response, he
turned around and wheeled out of the room with as little fanfare as he had
entered.
Ryder had woken up an hour before his charge had. He sat in the bed, watching
the boy sleep, feeling nothing but extreme guilt. It was beginning to consume
him. He wondered if he should explain what Kitty had meant when she said Rory
resembled a previous lover of his. When Rory woke to Artie's unpleasant wake-up
call, he decided it best not to mention it.
"I'm afraid it's time. I'm still a bit hurt. Would it be alright if you washed
yourself and dressed without my assistance?" the incubus inquired. The injury
was a cover—in reality he felt the most awkward thing in the world would be
seeing Rory naked again, let alone touching him to bathe him.
"I don't mind. I won't be long," the teen replied, kicking off the covers and
getting out of bed, padding to the bathroom, wiping sleep from his eyes.
"I'll ready your clothes and leave them in the bathroom for you," Ryder said.
Getting up, he went over to the wardrobe, opening the doors and examining the
clothing inside. He wanted to pick out something nice for the boy. He wasn't
entirely sure of what Rachel had in store for him, but the least he could do
was make sure Rory was comfortable and dressed well.
In the shower, Rory winced as the hot water hit his aching body yet again and
trailed down between his cheeks, running over his tender opening. It stung,
reminding him of the terrible event that had led to the injury, but he had
turned down Ryder's offer of magical pain management. Any form of intimate
contact with Ryder seemed incredibly undesirable for the time being. Even
letting the man coddle him seemed uncomfortable to a degree.
The sting intensified as he washed over himself with soap, the suds burning
him. He bit his bottom lip, praying that Sam would come for him soon. Sam. The
only person that could truly make everything all right again.
After ten minutes, Ryder heard the water from the shower turn off. He had
finally picked out an outfit that pleased him. He knocked on the bathroom door
and waited for permission to enter. Rory was still toweling himself dry, but
thankfully had one of the towels wrapped around his waist, preserving his
dignity. Ryder said nothing but merely set the garments down on the toilet seat
lid and left, forcing himself not to look.
Another ten minutes passed by before the boy emerged from the restroom, fully
clothed. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans with matching denim jacket, a pale
red shirt underneath. He donned a pair of brown boots, and had his hair neatly
gelled. He was very handsome, and it was a shame he was about to meet a very
unpleasant experience.
"Have some breakfast, and then I'll take you to the throne room," Ryder said
softly, nodding toward the table with a meal of eggs and bacon, sausage links,
hash browns and toast sat waiting for him. "Eat up, you will need your
strength."
Rory regarded him carefully, picking up on the changed demeanor of his
'keeper.' He sat down at the table and began to eat, occasionally taking sips
of orange juice. The thought crossed his mind that orange juice was good for
replenishing the blood supply and he had to wonder if that was intentional. He
knew in his heart he was about to be forced to part with a large amount of his
life force. What scared him the most was how much she intended to take, and how
she planned to take it from him.
-ooo-
Everyone on the airplane was suddenly awoken by a loud noise, something much
louder than should be heard thirty-thousand feet in the air. It sounded like an
explosion.
"Oh my…" Tina breathed, unable to finish her sentence. She, along with Mike,
Kurt, Mercedes, and Blaine, were staring at a computer screen at the front of
the aircraft, their eyes transfixed in horror at the sight before them. The
left wing was on fire.
Mike gathered his wits and dashed to the side of the plane where the three
coffins were stowed. He began to bang loudly on the lid of Sam's, startled when
it finally opened.
"What's going on!?" Sam shouted, fully alert. "That smell!" In a flash he was
in the cabin, pushing the others out of the way so he could see the fire on the
screen; a bright orange flame against the night sky. "No…"
Sebastian and Santana joined him in shock, Mike having roused them quickly.
Tina had sat herself down in one of the seats, her eyes heavy with tears, her
face a mask of fear. Mercedes was screaming at the top of her lungs at Sam, but
he was ignoring her. Kurt was interjecting his own expletives along with her.
Mike was attempting to prevent Tina from hyperventilating and Blaine and Sam
stared at each other, hopeless looks in their eyes.
Santana was screeching back at Mercedes and Kurt, but only Sebastian had any
sense of clarity. He almost seemed bored by the entire situation.
"I don't know why everyone's so worked up. We have parachutes of course. Not to
mention the shifters can simply take the form of birds and fly," the sheriff
said calmly. "Even vampires will be fine as long as we don't fall on a tree.
It's the damned humans that are the problem."
"How can you be so casual about this!? We're all in danger here you fucking
idiot!" Sam bellowed. Surprisingly nobody was taken aback by his vulgarity or
brashness in insulting his superior. In fact, Sebastian was even more amused by
it than before.
"Alright, alright. We'll take the easy way then. Everyone don their parachutes
and we jump. The hold in the back can be dumped so our supplies will land below
us with their own parachutes. Then out we go. Simple enough for you?" Sebastian
replied sarcastically. "No harm to the humans, or anyone else. Well, unless
they forget to pull the cord."
"Hold up, hot shot," Santana interrupted. "I'm all fine for a little jump, but
I don't think it's a great idea for Ghetto Oprah and the Porcelain Doll-boy to
be on their own. Not that it would bother me if they happened to end up wedged
somewhere in a mountain, but they are part of the team." She rolled her eyes
and gave both humans a smirk. Blaine held Kurt back while Mike jumped up from
Tina and gripped Mercedes' arm.
"She's right. We can't risk their safety any more than we have to. Kurt, you go
with Tina, Mercedes with Mike, and Blaine with me. Worst-case scenario, I hear
hawks have incredible strength for birds," Sam agreed.
"Enough chatter, let's get a move on," Sebastian said, still as calm as a Hindu
cow. He moved to the back of the cabin and opened a cabinet, revealing
parachutes. He started pulling them out, one by one and passing them along.
"Just fasten these straps, tighten these lines, and the kids get latched onto
mummy and daddy and the witch with Samuel, and out we go. I suggest anyone
feeling the need to vomit do so now rather than in the air."
As the team began to equip their gear for their airborne escape, the entire
aircraft began to shudder. It was becoming difficult to stand without falling
over, and once Sebastian opened the cargo door, it was going to get a lot
worse.
"The cabin's on fire!" Tina cried suddenly. Sure enough, smoke was pouring into
the cabin as everyone finished securing their parachutes and moved into the
cargo hold. "Go! We have to go now!"
"Calm down! Check your partner and get ready. As soon as I open this door,
it'll be all we can do not to get sucked right out. As soon as we get out, try
to spread out a little so we don't get caught in each other's cords!" Sebastian
yelled over the increasing noise of the fire and howling coming from outside as
the cargo bay door began to slowly lower.
Everyone was holding on to the walls for dear life, not one of them
particularly anxious to get this under way. "Ladies first," Sebastian said
coolly, motioning for Santana. The woman sauntered up to him as well as she
could with the high winds and planted her lips firmly on her maker's mouth, one
hand holding on to the handrail on the wall, and the other gripping his crotch
and giving him a squeeze.
"See you at the bottom. Don't leave me alone with these fucktarted people,
either!" Santana hissed into his ear after her kiss. She winked at him and then
let go of the railing. She half-walked and was half-sucked to the opening, the
supply crates having already ejected. She turned around and blew Sam a kiss,
her sarcastic grin crossing her face before she dived out of the hold.
"I love her dramatics," Sebastian said with a smile. "Next?"
Mike and Mercedes were next. Mercedes was still cussing at Sebastian, damning
him to every part of Hell she could think of. Dante Alighieri would be
impressed as she passed the seven circles several sentences before. Mike
dragged the angry woman out of the bay, praying that she would pass out from
fear before they hit the ground.
Kurt was slightly less troublesome as he and Tina made their dive into the sky.
He was in tears, mumbling, but otherwise nowhere near as dramatic as Mercedes.
"Well Sam, looks like just us and the witch. You gentlemen care to go first?"
Sebastian asked, nodding his head.
"Not on your life. You first. Then us," Sam replied boldly. "We'll be right
behind you."
"Considering I am your sheriff and I have put up with most of this charade of a
battle team, you sure are a smart ass," the older vampire said. "See you down
below," he said, taking a stroll right off the edge as if he were walking right
down the street.
Blaine looked back at Sam, his eyes heavy with dread. "I trust you, Sam. Don't
get me killed," he said, giving up all attempts to sound brave.
"Don't worry. We'll be fine. It's the others I'm worried about. I guess we
better get on down there," the vampire replied, his confidence shaky. "Ready
when you are."
The two men stepped forward and in a joint effort, fell from the platform. The
air rushed by their heads, Blaine closing his eyes and waiting for it to be
over with. He could feel himself being pulled and pushed this way and that by
the cold, harsh wind. He even felt dampness as they tumbled through the clouds.
"Hold on!" he heard Sam shout, but just barely as the rush of wind drowned out
most sound. He quickly understood the order, however, as his entire body felt
like it was being yanked upward as the parachute opened and the sky grabbed
hold of it. They descended quickly as Sam struggled to maintain some semblance
of direction and suddenly Blaine felt his body being slammed into the ground.
Strong arms were wrapped around him, and they were rolling. He hadn't even
noticed the sting of tree branches lashing out at his body when they crashed
through the forest. It was those very branches, however, that slowed their
descent the last little bit they needed.
When Blaine opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at the leaves and sky,
his head spinning. He felt his chest loosen up as the straps around him were
released and Sam gently pushed him off. "Sorry about that. Rougher landing than
I meant. This is my first time at this after all," the blonde apologized.
"No worries. We didn't die. Thanks," Blaine said with a pained smiled. His
whole body ached and he knew he would be feeling it for days to come. Or so he
hoped, because that would mean that he had survived. "Where's everyone else?"
They didn't see anyone else right away, but they heard Mercedes screeching yet
again, this time fussing that she was stuck in a tree, Mike still attached to
her back. Mike was shouting at her to be quiet and stop waving her arms about.
Under any other circumstances, the scene would have been hilarious.
Kurt was sitting with his back next to a tree trunk, his knees drawn up to his
chest. Blaine ran over to him to check on him while Tina was busy trying to
help Mike and Mercedes down from their perch. Santana and Sebastian were yet to
be seen. Sam tried to listen for signs of them, but between Mercedes' yelling
and Mike's orders to silence herself, all he could hear was noise. Not waiting
to alert anyone else, he began to run around the immediate area in vampire
speed, searching for Sebastian and the sheriff's 'daughter'.
-ooo-
"This is such bullshit, Sebastian!" Santana hissed at her maker. "We're risking
our lives out here and for what? Some stupid little fairy? This whole crush was
cute when it didn't involve me getting my nails broken, but now it's gotten a
little obsessive!"
"Santana," Sebastian began calmly. "There are times when I greatly appreciate
your opinion on things, particularly when it concerns my well being.
However, this is not one of those times."
The vampiress seethed behind Sebastian's back, suddenly feeling a strong desire
to push her luck and tear into him as she so often did behind closed doors.
Never would either of them allow someone else to see the inner workings of
their relationship, but in secret, Sebastian treated her like an equal and
often valued her insight.
Santana decided to press things on anyway, despite how unwise it was. "You're
in love with him, aren't you? This isn't just a little crush, you love him,"
she said evenly. "You-"
"You'd be wise not to continue, Santana," Sebastian said smoothly, placing his
finger over her mouth. "My reasons are not anyone else's to understand, not
even yours. Be smart, don't make me command you."
Defeated, the woman simply sighed and glared at him. He smirked in response
before turning his attention to their current situation. "I can sense the
others in that direction there," he said, pointing. "Of course I can smell
Sam's scent all over the place. He's rushing around frantically trying to find
us, and if I ever get hold of the CEO of Nautica, I will rip out his throat and
eat it because that cologne Sam wears is way too overpowering."
Before he could continue griping about trivial matters, Sam found them. He
stopped before them, looking them over to assess their status. "You two look
like you made it through alright. Come on, everyone else is waiting," the
blonde said, not waiting for a reply. The three vampires quickly ran to where
the other team members had landed.
Santana burst into laughter when she spotted Mercedes and Mike still hanging in
the tree. Despite not needing air, she fell to one knee and placed her hand on
her chest as if hyperventilating from too much enjoyment. Mercedes began to
swear at her but was quickly interrupted when the tether came loose, and she
and Mike fell from the parachute.
Sam rushed to catch the flailing woman, doing so only out of respect for Rory
and the fact that she was his friend. He really was annoyed by the way she was
acting and concerned even more that she might attract attention. He could
easily have glamoured her into silence, but it was a vow he had made to himself
not to use his influence on people more than necessary and especially not on
Rory's friends. It would be an extreme breach of trust on his part and he
wasn't about to risk it, even under the circumstances.
Mercedes actually thanked Sam for catching her, her torrent of vulgarity
finally stopping. Mike had landed much easier, his legs far more limber and
able to absorb the impact from such a high distance. As Mercedes brushed
herself off, Sam took a quick look around, again assessing the situation.
Kurt was still sitting against a tree, Blaine talking quietly to him. Sam could
hear their conversation but chose to block it out, again out of respect for the
humans. Santana was recovering from her fit of laughter, and Sebastian was
simply standing and observing silently, slyly stealing glances in Blaine's
direction and admiring his rear. Mike and Tina were talking quietly as well;
another conversation he chose to ignore.
"Okay, status check. Everyone alright?" Sam asked, trying to bring things back
to order. "Sorry for the crazy exit, but it was better than exploding in the
plane I think. We'll take another five minutes for everyone to get themselves
together and then we have to get moving. Sebastian, the GPS?"
Sebastian glanced at his wrist, a contraption strapped to it. He pressed a
couple of buttons and the screen lit up, filling with information and an image.
"North, about three miles. We got lucky to land so close. If we had waited any
longer to jump, we might be walking a hell of a lot further than this."
-ooo-
Rachel sat on her throne in the back of the ornate room with all of the
mirrors. They were all repaired, including the chandeliers and anything else
that had been destroyed during the previous confrontation with the leprechaun.
Kitty sauntered in, her translucent dress flowing around her. "They've been
taken care of, mistress," she said with a very wide grin. "Their aircraft was
shot down from the sky, and crashed a few miles from here. There's no way any
of them, even the vampires, could have survived such an explosion."
"Yes, I felt the vibrations of the blast. I'm not entirely certain they didn't
escape. They're crafty, this particular group. Well, not too crafty considering
they took the bait of my invite. I would have let you play with them, but I
just couldn't risk something happening," Rachel said doubtfully. She was
confident, but not arrogantly so. "Who made the shot?"
"Arthur. Well, you know how much he prefers Artie, but him. I must say, he has
quite a knack for weaponry and mechanical things," Kitty replied. "I imagine
he'd be a good fighter if he wasn't a cripple." She giggled at the use of
Artie's most hated word.
Rachel let a smile cross her face. "You're cruel, Kitty. You know how much I
like that." Kitty beamed proudly like a child having just been commended on a
piece of artwork. "When I get the blood, my power will increase, and I can help
Artie to walk again. He will be a skilled fighter, but his knowledge is vastly
more important. He is as wise as any sage, and just as you said, very handy
with mechanicals. I just find his bitter attitude annoying, and his insistence
on wearing such drab, old fashioned clothing doesn't help."
It was Kitty's turn to giggle. "Not everyone can dress as well as Ryder when it
comes to men, mistress."
Rachel let out a loud guffaw. "Kitty, you're as see-through as your dress! Your
crush on that incubus is endearing to me, and incredibly obvious. It's
unfortunate he prefers his own kind. Men, I mean."
The succubus frowned, her face turning to one of sorrow. Her features even
seemed to lose their luster. "He hasn't been the same since that brat a couple
hundred years ago. Ever since the perfect boy, that Damian, he has moped around
in misery. He doesn't even seem to enjoy his conquests much anymore. It's
disgusting."
"I think you're jealous. Unbecoming of a succubus, really, but understandable.
I remember that Ryder was willing to offer his own life for him. It came to me
in a vision that the boy would die of a horrible disease, something they've
since found a cure for. I prepared to let sing my wail, my call of death, but
Ryder came to me, begging me to spare him." Rachel closed her eyes as she
recalled the vivid memory from so long ago. "I took pity on him. I let the boy
live in exchange for Ryder's eternal service.. Too bad for him, the boy died
anyway of his own accord later on."
Kitty kept the strongest poker face she could muster. She, and only she, knew
the truth about Damian's death. Not even Ryder knew what had happened. Kitty
had lured him to death with her own tantalizing abilities. She was beyond cruel
in her torment, and by the time she was finished, the young man was in such
despair that Kitty did him the favor of a merciful slaughter. And slaughter it
was as she used her ability to force him to cut himself. He was bleeding badly
as she walked him to the highest cliff near the shores of the ocean and gave
him that final encouragement to leap. He needn't jump, however, as his
weakening body collapsed, falling forward and over the edge, leaving his form
broken and dead on the rocks below. There were no traces of evidence that Kitty
had anything to do with it. Damian had written a classic goodbye note to Ryder,
and the trail of blood led from his home to the cliff. Ryder despaired so
deeply at that point that he considered committing suicide himself, but Kitty
convinced him not to.
The one concern Kitty had over the leprechaun was that if he touched her, he
could dig into her memory and find that very night in her head and drag it out,
then spill the truth to both Ryder and Rachel. Fortunately for her, succubi and
incubi had incredible control over their minds, so it would take quite the
venture to drag anything out of her.
-ooo-
"Are you scared?" Ryder asked as he went to unlock the bedroom door. He refused
to look at the boy, knowing that if he did, his heart would burst. They looked
too much alike. They acted too much alike-the kindness, the understanding, the
innocence, the bravery.
"I'd be lying if I said no," Rory replied quietly. "Do ye' really not know
what's gonna happen?" He placed his hand on Ryder's bicep, pulling the man to
face him. "Please, look at me. I know ye' won't lie."
Ryder sighed heavily, forcing back a tear. "I really don't know. I can tell you
this much, however. I know she doesn't want to kill you. If she kills you,
that's it. When the effect of your blood wears off, she has no more. She has to
keep you alive, like some sort of… fountain of power. It's just that… there are
some things worse than death," the incubus admitted.
Rory shuddered and hugged himself. "Why can't I fight her, Ryder? Why can't I
use me power to protect meself? And.. and ye'."
"Why would you want to protect me? After what I did? If you want to fight
anyone, it should be me. If you want to kill anyone, it should be me," Ryder
answered, his voice quivering slightly.
"We've discussed that already. I don't want to revisit it again. I want to
protect ye' because despite that incident, ye've been kind to me. Ye've looked
out for me, and been a friend to me. One mistake doesn't give me the right to
fight or kill a friend, even if it was a really huge mistake."
Ryder closed his eyes, trying to fight back the tears, but failing miserably.
He opened them again, his vision blurry. He ran the back of his hand across the
leprechaun's cheek, the soft feeling of the boy's skin bringing forth more
memories.
"You're just like him," Ryder whispered. Without knowing what he was doing, he
wrapped his arms around the boy, placing his hand on the back of his head,
holding him to his chest. "Damian, why did you have to leave me? Why can't I
come with you?"
Rory was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, fully aware that Ryder was
under some sort of emotional hallucination. At the same time he pitied the man.
Falling in love so long ago and then having it taken from him had to be
horrible. So he assumed anyway. Ryder had never explained himself, but Rory
gathered from his few comments that apparently this boy was someone Ryder was
in love with, and for some reason they were torn apart. What could he do for
the man who had been so kind to him despite his nature? Could he do something
to ease Ryder's despair?
Sam, forgive me, Rory thought. He released himself from Ryder's grasp, standing
in front of him, their bodies inches away. He swallowed back his fear, his
apprehension, and his guilt as he was about to do something he didn't want to
do, but knew was the only thing he could give the man. He leaned forward and
pulled Ryder closer, closer, closer. Rory closed his eyes and let his lips
press against the other man's.
Rory's lips, plus his hands on Ryder's biceps were more than enough tactile
contact to do what he needed to do. While their lips continued to touch, he dug
his mind into the incubus. He let himself walk through the memories, centuries
of memories. Some were horrible, some were good, and some were simply blank
space, a void. "Damian!?" he called out mentally. "Please! Come out!" No reply,
so he dug deeper into the incubus' head. It was the farthest he had ever gone
into another person's mind, and it was scary. Finally he saw a faint glimmer
ahead. A glimmer that magnified into a human form, a form that looked eerily
enough like Rory himself. There were slight differences, but for the most part
it was like looking into a mirror. A mental mirror. "Come with me," his mind
instructed. The boy, Damian, took his lead and followed forward, back through
the centuries of memories, back through the horrors and the voids. Finally they
were at the front of Ryder's mind.
"This is where ye' stay. The strongest memory he has," Rory thought. He felt
himself slam back into his own head, their lips parting, his hands falling to
his sides-the tactile tether gone. He felt a sudden headache and could detect
something running from his nose. He brought up his finger and wiped across his
upper lip, and when he pulled back, it was red with blood.
Unsure of exactly what to do next as Ryder fell to his knees in tears, Rory
turned and walked away to the bathroom. He wiped his nose clean of blood, his
headache still strong. He had never before dug so deeply, and never before
tried to actually make some sort of contact with a memory. It was like reaching
into a movie and touching the actors, dragging them away from the scene. It was
something he hadn't been entirely sure he could do, but somehow he had, and now
he was paying for it with a very bad headache and a bloody nose.
I'm so sorry, Sam. I had to. For his kindness. The guilt was settling in, the
knowledge that he had willingly kissed a man other than Sam weighing in on him.
He prayed that Sam would understand, that he wouldn't be angry with him. It
wasn't a kiss of passion, or a kiss of infidelity. It was a means to an end
that was what he hoped was the right thing to do. Whatever the case, it was
something he would have to confess to the vampire at a later time, when all of
this was over.
When he walked back into the bedroom, Ryder was still on his knees, his head in
his hands. "Damian… It's all so clear. It's like you were here with me just
yesterday." He stopped and looked up at Rory. "What did you do to me?"
Rory smiled and knelt down, looking the incubus in the eyes, seeing the
faintest teal glow appearing there. "I found ye'r memories o' him. I brought
them back, so ye' could see them clearly again. I tried to make them stay
there. I hope it works." Ryder began to smile, his eyes watering again. "I
can't bring him back, but maybe the memories will help ye'."
"Yeah, I think they will. After all this time, things were getting hazy,
starting to fade no matter how hard I tried to hold on to the memories. Thank
you, Rory. I don't deserve your compassion. You are so much like him. He would
have done the same thing. Damian was so kind, so selfless."
"I know. Ye' told me. When I was in ye'r head I mean. The memories I saw o' him
as I pulled him out. And he could sing. When I was in ye'r head, all I could
hear in there was the sound o' a young man's voice singing. It was an echo that
got stronger the closer I got," Rory explained.
"It's so unfair. It's so unfair that I have to take you to her, to let her do
whatever she plans to do with you. You have to believe I don't want to," Ryder
pleaded. "This would all be so much easier if you hated me."
"It's not in me nature to hate people. I'm afraid of what's going to happen.
I'm terrified. I don't want to go through that door right now and I don't want
to go in her throne room and take whate'er she has in mind. Me last hope is
Sam. If he comes, help him. That's all I ask."
Ryder stood up. "I'm sorry. We have to go now." He turned around and unlatched
the door, escorting his young friend down the hall. They walked in silence
until they finally stood before the large door to Rachel's throne room. He
placed his hand on the handle but paused, turning his head to the frightened
teen. "When he comes, I'll help him. I promise. I have to confess, I think… I
think I love you."
Rory smiled. "No, ye' love Damian. Only him. Ye' just see me as his memory.
That's what ye' love. It's always been him, and it always will be. Alive or
dead, he's ye'r soul mate and someday, somehow ye'll be together again."
Ryder offered a pained grin before turning back to face the door. He pushed the
latch and opened it, revealing the beautiful throne room. Rachel sat in the
middle, dressed in a regal gown of translucent fabrics that billowed around her
motionless form. Kitty stood at her side, equally beautiful but with the
pleasured sneer of a spoiled child on her lips.
It was time to get this over with.
-ooo-
It took slightly longer for Sam and the others to travel three miles than it
should have, only because Kurt and Mercedes were constantly complaining about
the trek. Their endurance and stamina for physical exertion was vastly
different from their non-human counterparts. Blaine seemed to be just fine, but
he also spent time at the gym that his friends did not.
They arrived at the gates to the fortress, expecting some sort of opposition
but seeing none. From the outside, the entire building was every bit the
stereotypical castle of olden days, albeit with numerous modern conveniences
such as lighting and electronic gates. It boasted towers complete with
glassless windows. It appeared to be several stories high, with an otherwise
flat roof. Elaborate stonework decorated the walls, tall columns outlining the
main entrance. One odd addition to the ancient-looking castle was a visible
satellite dish flanked by what appeared to be spotlights and strobes. It was
garish and just the sort of thing a self-absorbed songstress would have on her
stage of a home.
"Now how the hell are we gonna get inside? It's got walls all around it and a
huge gate!" Mercedes questioned, putting her hands on her hips. "I hope you
don't think I'm going to climb over that big-ass iron fence!"
"Calm down, Rambo Barbie," Santana said harshly. "Nobody expects you to you
haul your fat ass over that fence. You can wait right out here and be ready to
run. You should know all about running away from a crime scene," she added,
cackling.
"Oh hells no, this bitch did not just make that racist-ass comment!" Mercedes
howled. "You better hope I don't get hold of a stake because I doubt anyone
would miss your sarcastic ass."
"Oh please, I would snap your neck before you even got a chance to get a
splinter. I've killed hundreds of humans far more threatening than you,"
Santana stated, sneering.
"Enough!" Sam bellowed over them. "We don't have time for this! Put your energy
into this mission, not bickering with each other, otherwise you'll both end up
dead during the first fight," he said, glaring at both women.
Sebastian giggled as his subject scolded the arguing pair. "Now children, don't
make me turn this rag-tag team around and go home. There will be no dessert
tonight if you can't behave yourselves," he teased. He decided it best not to
call bullshit on his progeny's declaration of multiple human homicides, lest
the argument amplify once again.
Ignoring both Mercedes' and Santana's harsh eyes, he went on to answer the
original question of entry. "Anyhow, there's a way in. Unless it's been
changed," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "Don't look at me like that. I have
been here ages ago, but I sure didn't meet a crazy banshee." Everyone was
staring. It was the first any of them, including Santana, had heard of
Sebastian's visit to this god-forsaken place.
"Then what were you doing here, Sebastian?" Sam demanded. Everyone shifted
their eyes from one man to the other and back, waiting to see how much the
confrontation would escalate. Neither man cared for each other, and the fact
Sebastian had been at this very location once before didn't exactly instill
confidence in anyone, especially when two other teammates had nearly been at
blows only seconds before.
Sebastian scoffed. "Oh calm down, Samuel. I came back here with an incubus a
couple centuries ago and we had quite a nice time for a few days."
"They fucked each other's brains out," Santana verified. Her maker looked at
her, surprised. "Well what else would you mean? A riveting weekend of drinking
tea and playing board games?"
Satisfied that she was unaware of his past tryst and merely expounding on his
speech, he went on.
"Yes, we fucked like rabbits for days on end. It was exhausting but the best
sex I had ever had up to that point. Of course, I never knew this was where
that batshit banshee lived, and I don't even know if that incubus still lives
here. He may be long gone. It's not like we kept in touch. They didn't have e-
mail or cell phones back then you know," the sheriff pointed out harshly.
Still skeptical, Sam brought up his next point. "If he brought you back so
willingly, then why do you know about a back door? Shouldn't he have just taken
you in the front? Or did he forget his keys?" he asked sarcastically.
"Trust me, I got well acquainted with his back door," Sebastian answered with a
smirk, motioning for the others to follow him. "This isn't really hidden, it's
just accessed through the gardens. Typical hedge maze. You can simply squeeze
through the bushes. It really isn't that hard, nor is it the best security
system, either."
Sam's and Sebastian's enhanced hearing heard Santana comment under her breath,
"The rest of us can squeeze through, but chunk-style over there might not fit."
Luckily the woman in question did not hear, and neither Sam nor Sebastian felt
it necessary to make an issue of the insult.
Sure enough, they turned the corner and saw the large growth of the hedge
garden. Sebastian approached one of the shrubbery walls and dug his hands
inside, then ripped them apart, the crackling of branches and falling of leaves
accompanying his invasion.
"How did you know you could get in this way?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Simple. I had seen it. Despite what you might believe, we had a lot of sex,
but we did spend some time not fucking. One night we strolled through the
gardens until we decided to move on to other things in the farther corners of
the maze. Pure logic would tell you that a hedge could simply be cut open. You
really should try to keep up, Sam," the sheriff replied smugly.
"Fine. Sebastian, you go in first. Mike next, and then Santana and I will bring
up the rear after the rest of you. When you get on the other side, stay put,
don't run off without us," Sam ordered.
"You don't have to talk to us like we're twelve," Kurt barked back. "We're
perfectly capable of-"
The teen was interrupted abruptly as Sam turned on him, the vampire's finger in
his face, his fangs extended. "Look, I didn't ask you to come. You insisted.
You have no powers, you're vulnerable and at the moment a real burden, so how
about you remember that you're under our protection and just do what I tell you
to without a bunch of crap?" he hissed. He normally didn't get that aggressive
or talk to people that way, but Kurt and Mercedes were both getting on his
nerves and were more of a detriment than an asset with their constant
complaining and sarcastic commentary. If they were to stay safe and be of use,
they needed to be quiet and do what they were told. Santana was working his
nerves as well, but with her vampire abilities she was still an asset and she
would not be so easy to intimidate.
Sebastian and Santana watched as Sam finished his harsh words, the pair of them
smiling smugly. "About time someone shut those brats up," Santana whispered to
her maker. The pair of them giggled, visibly annoying Kurt and Mercedes.
"Sam, calm down," Blaine said sternly, putting his hand on the man's still
extended finger and pushing down. "They'll stay in line, right guys?" he asked,
looking to his friends in a plea for agreement.
"Y-yeah. Sure thing," Kurt mumbled. Mercedes merely nodded, neither human
taking their eyes off of Sam's sharp teeth.
"We're this close to Rory. Keep a cool head and we can get him back home, safe
and sound," Blaine said to Sam, staring him in the eyes. "Now let's get through
those shrubs and save our friend."
Sam nodded and gave Blaine a slight smile. He was right, Sam needed to keep a
cool head and calm himself down if he was going to succeed. "Thanks," he said
softly. "You might be what gets us through this."
"Those two have a serious bromance going on," Santana whispered to Sebastian.
"They just need to go ahead and fuck already and get it over with before we get
the boy. Hey, maybe they'll go for a foursome, Seb."
Sebastian cut his eyes at the younger vampire, silencing her jovial mocking.
"Just focus and do what I order you," he said. "I guess since I opened the
door, I'll go through first. I'll see you all on the other side," he added,
raising his voice to an authoritative level.
"Wait," Mike spoke up for the first time since arriving at the castle. "Let me
and Tina go first. We'll shift into birds and get a better view of what we
might be up against. We have no idea what's on the other side of that hedge."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow and looked around at the others. "You have a valid
point. How embarrassing that I didn't think of it first," he said. "Very well.
The pair of you go first. We'll hold your clothing here for when you return."
Saying nothing, Mike and Tina nodded at each other and quickly disrobed. The
three humans all blushed and turned away, not expecting to ever see their
friends in the nude. Neither shifter was fazed by it, however.
"Fascinating," the sheriff commented as he and the other vampires watched as
the two shifters began to take on different forms, shrinking down, arms turning
to wings, legs to talons, faces to beaks. Where two people once stood, now two
blackbirds perched atop heaps of clothing.
The two blackbirds began to flap their wings, taking off into the sky to
investigate. The rest of the team quietly waited for them to return. Blaine was
standing with Kurt, talking softly to him. Mercedes was sitting on the ground,
seemingly pouting at her earlier reprimand. Santana was leaning up against the
hedge, this time buffing her nails.
"Does she ever stop messing with her fingernails?" Sam inquired.
"She's sharpening them. One thing Santana is good at is a catfight. Her nails
are razor sharp and I can guarantee they could shred even a Kevlar vest,"
Sebastian explained proudly.
Sam smiled at the cleverness of the woman. He strongly disliked her, but he had
to admit she was smart. He never would have thought to do such a thing. He and
Sebastian stood in silence, everyone waiting impatiently for the return of
their scouts.
What had to be twenty minutes later, the two blackbirds returned, shifting back
into human form as they landed. Again the three humans averted their eyes as
the shifters pulled their attire back on as they explained their findings.
"Not exactly a lot out there," Mike said. "A simple hedge maze as you said, and
not a guard in sight. The back entrance is mostly glass. I don't know who did
the designing around here, but someone needs to tell her you don't mix
contemporary, modern, Greek, and medieval architecture in one building."
"That's his critical side coming out," Tina explained. "He's right though. Any
enhancements to the structure seem incredibly out of place, but lucky for us,
that tacky glass entrance is our ticket for an easy way inside."
"Excellent. Then we proceed as planned," Sebastian stated, nodding toward the
two supernatural beings. Not waiting for a response from anyone, he slid
through the hole in the brush, stepping out into the maze itself.
The others followed suit, Sam the last one to come through. All around them
were nothing but plants. High hedges, flowers, everything. Under any other
circumstances, it would have been beautiful, but for now it just looked creepy.
"Well, genius, where to now?" Santana asked, rolling her eyes toward her maker.
"We're splitting up," Sebastian stated. Mercedes looked like she was going to
open her mouth but Kurt quickly nudged her, reminding her of Sam's reaction at
their previous outburst. "Look, this place is huge; there's a lot of ground to
cover. Rory could be anywhere, as could the banshee, the succubus, and whatever
other crazies she has working for her. The best way to get through this place
is to split into groups."
"I'll take the direct route in," Sam announced, walking past Sebastian. The
sheriff grabbed his arm, halting him abruptly.
"No, you won't," the elder said firmly, staring Sam in the eyes, challenging
him. "If they're expecting us, and they most likely are, they'll be ready to
take you out in a heart beat."
Sam huffed but relented, knowing the older man was right. A direct intrusion
would be easily thwarted. "Alright, what do you suggest then?"
Smirking, Sebastian paused a moment before replying, eyeing each of the members
of their team one by one as if mentally surveying each one's effectiveness in
combat. After a few minutes, his plan was formed.
-ooo-
"Bring him forward," Rachel announced, her voice echoing through the chamber.
She was going for theatrics again, speaking in a regal tone of voice. Steeling
himself, Rory stepped forward, Ryder at his side.
"It'll be okay," Ryder whispered as they came to a halt in front of the throne.
He stepped back and off to the side, crossing his arms in front of him and
watching.
Rachel stood and approached the tall leprechaun hybrid, her eyes roving him up
and down. "Last time we had some rather… unpleasantness in our conversation,"
she cooed. "You look to have healed up quite nicely."
"Ryder helped me with that," Rory said flatly. "He's been taking good care o'
me. Much better than ye'."
The banshee raised her arm as if to slap him, but instead straightened her
hair. "He's had proper training. I'm a free spirit. He is enslaved to me. I
tell him to take care of you, and he does. I hope you don't think he's doing it
out of the kindness of his heart," she teased, smiling and batting her eyes.
"He follows ye'r orders, but I've seen in his head. There's humanity there.
He's a good person," Rory declared confidently. "It's ye'r Kitty that has no
humanity in her, and I don't need to see in her head to know that."
The banshee tittered a high-pitched laugh. "Oh silly boy, Kitty does indeed
have a soul. It's damned, but she has one. She has hundreds, really. Every soul
she has sucked out of her victims is locked inside of her somewhere. Her mind
is a darkness that even Satan would be proud of. However, I chose Ryder to be
your caretaker for very specific reasons, and since he's done such a good job,
he'll continue to be your caretaker. That said, you will be owing him a great
deal of thanks when we're done and he once again takes care of you."
"What do ye' want with me? Ye' want me blood? Fine, I'll give ye' some. Get a
needle like normal people, or e'en an IV. Ye' don't 'ave to go with the crazy
stuff," the teen informed her.
"But see, I like the crazy stuff. I like causing pain and suffering to get what
I want. I need that blood, and I'll take it how I want to," the woman said
sternly. "Now, I have tired of your chatter. Last time there was too much talk,
not enough blood for my liking. If you just cooperate, the pain will be much
easier on you." She tittered again and then sighed. "Oh who am I kidding,
child? It's going to be your worst nightmare no matter what. It will be
legendary even in Hell."
Rory's body began to quiver as Rachel's words sent chills up and down his
spine. There was no reasoning with her. There was no bargaining. She was
insane, and she had every intention of making him suffer, particularly since
she knew Ryder would be taking care of his wounds after she was finished with
him.
"It's time to go downstairs. Ryder, bring the boy. Kitty, bring up the rear. I
don't want them getting any ideas," Rachel ordered. She glided effortlessly to
the back of the room where she pressed gently against one of the glass panels.
It slid away to reveal a hidden doorway. She continued through it, followed by
Rory, Ryder, and Kitty. The door closed behind them, locking them in darkness.
After a while, Rachel stopped, seeming to have hit a wall. She pressed into
another panel that slid away, revealing a spiral staircase. The stairwell was
lit by electric sconces on the walls. She began to descend, the other three
slowly following her. Aside from their footsteps, the only other noise was a
slight giggling coming from Kitty as she danced her way behind them. Neither
Rory nor Ryder knew who was more insane—Kitty, or Rachel.
When they arrived at the bottom of the stairwell, they passed through an
archway and down a short passage before yet another slide-away panel. Rory had
to wonder why they bothered with the panels at all since there seemed to be no
security whatsoever to them. The hall opened out into a large room that was lit
by harsh white lights. Stainless steel tables stood on one side, a cloth
covering one of them. The cloth was lumpy, obviously hiding something
underneath. At the back of the room were shackles on the wall.
"Ryder, remove all but his underwear. I don't want his nicer clothes getting
blood on them," Rachel ordered casually. Reluctantly, Ryder led Rory up to the
nearest table, meeting eyes with him.
"I'm so sorry," the incubus said softly, reaching forward to unbutton the boy's
shirt. His upper body exposed, Ryder picked him up and sat him on the edge of
the table. Rory felt like he was at the doctor's office, preparing for an
examination. His caretaker removed his shoes and socks, then reached forward to
unbutton the boy's pants. He shuffled them off and then neatly folded
everything and set the items up on the table. He steeled his jaw shut, trying
not to show the emotions he was feeling, but his tears betrayed him.
"Good. Now, I want him against the wall," the banshee instructed. Without
waiting for Ryder to encourage him, Rory stepped up to the wall and leaned
against it, shivering at the cold metal against his bare skin. Ryder took one
of the teen's wrists and lifted it, pulling a shackle from the wall and
latching him in place. He did the same with the other wrist, and then he knelt
down before him. Ryder adjusted Rory's feet so they were spaced about a foot
apart and latched his ankles to the wall as well. It looked like a
bastardization of the crucifixion.
"Ryder, you'll be sitting in the chair over there," Rachel said, pointing to a
large chair off to the side. The incubus didn't argue but merely sat down,
allowing Kitty to strap his wrists and ankles in as well. "I don't need you
trying to interfere."
"Just wait Ryder, this is going to be so much fun to watch," Kitty cooed in his
ear as she pulled the last buckle closed. "His blood will pour and his screams
will be music to our ears. My loins quiver just thinking about it!"
A troll of a man, entered the room as if on cue. He was balding with deep olive
skin and a doctor's uniform, except it was a shade of brown rather than white.
He stopped at the table with the cloth and then faced his mistress.
"Ah, Figgins. Perfect. I expect everything is as I asked?" the banshee
inquired, addressing the man.
"Yes, ma'am. Everything is laid out for your enjoyment as requested. I also
have the proper cleanup tools for when you are finished. I will see to it that
nothing is left unclean," the trollish man answered in a thick Indian accent.
Rachel merely smiled and stepped forward to the table. She pulled the cloth
away to reveal various implements, most of them sharp. Her eyes gleamed at the
sight of the items. The first item she picked up resembled a horse's bit
without the strap. She took it in her hand and approached her captive.
Kitty sat on the edge of the empty table across from the one holding
implements, her eyes bright and her smile inhumanly excitable. She was already
running her hands over her body, obviously aroused by the scene.
"Here. Bite on this, you'll be thankful for it momentarily," Rachel cooed,
placing it between Rory's teeth. She returned to the table where she gazed over
the various tools, dragging out the dread the most she could. She would only
get this satisfaction once – the fear of the entire episode beginning. Once she
started, the anxiety would dissipate and become pure terror.
Ryder was again in tears when he saw Rachel pick up a knife. It was small, the
size of a pocket knife, but much sharper and shinier, with a smooth edge as
opposed to serrated. Rory gulped, his eyes transfixed on the blade she held in
her fingertips.
"Don't do this," he pleaded between the bit and his teeth. The woman showed no
emotion as she placed the tip of the blade in the palm of his right hand. He
tried to summon forth any bit of energy he could into his hands, but something
was subduing his abilities. He deduced that it must have been something in his
food, a dampening agent like he had been given upon his arrival—most likely
added by the wheelchaired man, Kitty, or Rachel herself. Had it been Ryder, he
would have seen it in his mind earlier.
Rachel licked her lips and then slowly dragged the edge of the blade across his
palm, a bright red line forming and beginning to ooze quickly.
Rory bit down on the bite so hard he thought it might break in his mouth. The
growl escaping his throat was primal and angry, scared and hurt. The pain
seemed to magnify as the woman before him licked the wound, the blood flowing
down her throat and into her stomach.
"Mmm, it's like… like liquid gold," the woman cooed, closing her eyes and
savoring the taste. "Perfection." Satisfied, she moved to the other side,
making an equal cut in his other palm, eliciting a slightly weaker yet still
primal sound from the boy. Again, she licked the wound, the heat of the life
force traveling to her insides.
Rachel stepped back, observing her victim. Streaks of red covered his palms,
but the blood wasn't flowing freely. Not the way it soon would be. She returned
to the table, making her next decision. When she turned around and revealed the
chosen implement, Rory's eyes widened in newfound horror, his body sweating and
heart pounding harder than ever as she approached him.
Rory's screams echoed through the entire room and into the hallway, up the
stairwell, and into the main chamber. It didn't take long before the bit
dropped from his mouth and he was crying out in agony, begging the woman to
stop. His vision was hazy, tears streaming down his cheeks. Blood ran from
various places on his body, every new wound another source for the insane
banshee to imbibe from.
The screams of the leprechaun were soon joined by the orgasmic squeals of Kitty
as she plied her supple breasts, popping them out of her dress. While one hand
worked the tender flesh of her nipples, the other tended to her wet orifice
between her legs. Just seeing the very act was enough to make Ryder want to
vomit. Even in his worst days never did he find arousal by torture, and
witnessing Kitty in a sexual frenzy as she gazed at the scene was infuriating
and disgusting all at once.
Shock finally took over and allowed Rory to pass out just as Rachel finished
her final cut. Figgins handed her a handkerchief for the woman to wipe her
mouth daintily as if she were merely leaving a tea party. "Clean this up," she
said simply, dropping the fabric napkin into Figgins' outstretched hands.
"Come, Kitty," she added. The woman and her assistant strolled out of the room,
Kitty giggling like a schoolgirl.
Just as Figgins removed the latches from around Ryder's limbs, the man stood up
and shoved the little troll backward. "Fuck off, Figgy," Ryder hissed angrily.
"I have work to do."
Figgins snarled at him but left the room willingly, ready to return when the
human was taken back to his holding room.
As soon as Kitty and Rachel re-entered the throne room, they heard the sound of
a loud boom and felt the shaking of the room. A bomb.
"Mistress?" Kitty asked worriedly.
"They've survived and come for him,' Rachel said casually. "You know what to
do. See to it that everything is taken care of. Since somebody didn't die in
that crash, we'll have a little fun with them. Kill whom you must, but keep Sam
alive. I want him to see his broken toy before I end him right in front of the
boy's eyes. After all, since he's here I may as well get some unexpected fun
out of the deal."
Kitty beamed happily. "As you wish!" she cheered, practically dancing out of
the room. Rachel watched her leave before sitting down on her throne. It was
only then that she allowed a look of slight concern to cross her features. The
blood she had drunk was warm inside of her, tingling throughout her body, but
she wasn't feeling the exact sensations she had expected. It worried her, and
now was definitely not the best time for things to not be going as planned.
 
***** Season 1, Episode 12: War - Part 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Author's Notes: Finally! It's the last chapter for the season! We now
     find out the fates of our characters and these teens are in for the
     fight of their lives. I loved writing this so much that I already am
     making plans for the next season! After all, we still haven't seen
     the appearance of numerous characters from Glee, so just imagine what
     roles they may have. New villains, new creatures, new powers, new
     drama, and lots of OMGWTFBBQ! Thank you to my boys Ragnarok45 and
     AndyMixter for getting me going on this project and huge thank you to
     TVTime for his outstanding beta work. We went over these chapters and
     plotlines and everything else so many times we could both recite it
     in our sleep. Thanks for reading, I appreciate the support and see
     you next season!

     Beta Credit: TVTime
Season 1, Episode 12: War, Part 2
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked if you could make us
a small hole in the wall to get in," Sebastian said sarcastically, looking at
Blaine with annoyance and amusement. "With all that noise we may as well have
gone right through the glass doors. Oh well, I guess we make our grand
entrance."
"I'm sorry! I told you guys I don't have a whole lot of practical experience
with this stuff. I know it, but I don't have a lot of practice!" Blaine
defended. "It's not exactly in our day-to-day studies to learn how to blow
holes in things."
"Don't worry about it," Sam told the teenage Wiccan, who was turning ten shades
of red in embarrassment and anger. Sebastian had asked him to turn a small
section of the wall intangible so that they could quickly sneak inside without
being detected. When Blaine cast the spell, however, it caused a large chunk of
the wall to explode instead, the tremor shattering the glass doors as well. It
was loud and shook the entire castle, ensuring that anyone inside was aware of
their intrusion.
"Come on then, let's get inside and perhaps hide before anyone sees us," the
sheriff ordered, stepping first through the new opening. Everyone else followed
him inside, finding themselves in a large, open room. It appeared to be one of
many foyers where several staircases met and interweaved with each other. Aside
from the destroyed entryway, it looked rather elegant.
Before they had time to contemplate their next move, numerous figures emerged
from various hidden doors all around them. Guards. They were all dressed in
solid black garb reminiscent of a SWAT team, wielding guns and melee weapons,
with masks hiding their faces. Heavily armored, they were not going to be easy
to get around. Some had even slipped behind them, cutting off their exit back
outside. Every firearm was pointed at the small group of intruders.
"This is not good," Sebastian said calmly, looking around at the others.
"You're damn right this isn't good! We're good as dead! We're screwed! We're-
" Kurt's words were cut off as Santana clapped her hand over his mouth.
"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up, and do what you're told, for the fiftieth time
you fucktarted human!" she hissed at him. "Keep it up, and I will kill, fuck,
and eat you myself." Kurt gulped, suddenly unsure who to be more afraid
of—Santana or the guards. Blaine glared harshly at her, hoping she was more
bark than bite. He knew he should have come to Kurt's defense, but they had
bigger problems at the moment than hurt feelings.
A familiar voice began to echo in the hall, accompanied by a high-pitched
laugh. "Welcome boys and girls," Kitty announced, stepping out from the large,
wooden double doors on the second floor. She approached the railing and peered
over, looking at her new captives. "You really made this entirely too easy. I
was hoping for some sort of challenge." She looked back at the mess they had
made of the entryway, letting out a firm 'tsk tsk'. "Oh dear, the mistress will
not be happy about that. Those were new doors."
"Where's Rory?" Sam barked, pure rage in his eyes. He ignored the guards
closing in on them, tightening their circle. "Where is he, you bitch!?"
Kitty cackled at him. "Like I'm going to tell you! It won't matter anyway, I'm
going to kill every last one of you!" she replied, leaning on the rail. She was
no longer wearing a dress but was in a dark pink and black outfit. It barely
covered the essentials, the backside open with a sash of material flowing down
from the back of her waist, the underside of her breasts visible in the tight
tube-top. Her boots came up to her knees and she wore loose open-flared
coverings that began at her elbows. Her hair was wavy and long, the pink
streaks matching her clothing. Had she not been an evil creature, she would
have been arousing and enticing. Instead she was beautifully dangerous.
Instinctively and in a single movement, Sebastian, Santana, and Sam all leapt
into the air and over the railing, ready to assault their taunting assailant.
The sudden disruption threw the guards off of their game, startling them and
causing them to lose focus on their surrounded targets. Tina and Mike both
shifted their hands into claws resembling the paws of wolves and fell back into
a fighting stance. Kurt and Mercedes raised their guns, and Blaine began to
chant a spell, all five of them backing up against each other.
Sam lunged for Kitty, grabbing her throat and rushing forward. She twisted out
of his grasp and grabbed his arm, slamming him into the double doors, the wood
exploding inward. Santana leapt into the air, flipped, and landed on the woman,
sitting on her shoulders. Santana threw her weight backwards, using her legs to
pull and throw Kitty across the balcony, where Sebastian caught her and held
her arms back tightly.
Down below, the guards began to fire their guns, but the bullets halted in
midair and fell to the floor. Blaine's protection spell was taking effect. He
said another word in Latin and the invisible bubble around them expanded
outward violently, knocking the guards off their feet. It shattered the barrier
but allowed Mike and Tina to dive into the fray, crashing into the nearest
guards and clawing at their Kevlar armor with their sharp claws. Mercedes and
Kurt began to fire their weapons in front of them, aiming down at the fallen
soldiers. Bullets bounced off of the helmets and barely punctured the armor,
however as neither one of them had shot a gun before, let alone a high-powered
automatic rifle.
Kitty wrenched herself free from Sebastian's grip, spinning around and shoving
him backward before doing a backflip, her foot connecting with his chin and
throwing him into the ceiling. Sebastian landed with a thud and a deep growl
resonated from his throat.
Having recovered, Sam dashed toward the flipping woman, his timing just right
as he grabbed her heel and began to spin around. He slammed her head into the
railing and support beams, splintering the wood and sending shards flying
everywhere. Refusing to let go, Sam then yanked her backward, grabbing her by
the neck and slamming her face first into the ground.
Santana helped Sebastian off the floor, not that he needed it. The pair quickly
pounced on the succubus, the three vampires struggling to hold her down as she
flailed about. "Get off me you walking corpses!" she screamed.
Back on the first floor, Mike and Tina had shifted their entire bodies into
animal form—Tina into a tiger and Mike into a wolf. They bit and tore at the
soldiers, ripping into their protective gear and digging into flesh. Men
screamed and howled as they were being torn apart viciously. Necks snapped,
hands and legs were torn from joints and tossed aside. Blood flowed and sprayed
freely, but didn't stop the assault of the shifted humans.
Kurt had resorted to using the butt of his rifle as a club, smacking a guard in
the head, throwing the man off balance. The guard tried to grab the gun but
missed, his arm being the next target of the swinging weapon. The guard yelled
loudly, attempting to block the blow, but failing. To his advantage however,
the rifle cracked at the heavy impact against his armor, leaving Kurt unarmed
for the moment.
Mercedes was having less luck as three guards surrounded her, one actually
holding on to the barrel of her assault rifle, trying to wrench it from her
death grip. She fired the weapon, tearing holes through the man's armor from
the force of point blank range shooting. His spine cracked and splintered out
of his back, leaving a large bone sticking out of his vest. Another jumped on
her back, his arms around her throat trying to take her to the ground. The
third had a combat knife, which he was aiming for her side.
"No!" Blaine yelled, conjuring up a flame that he launched at the knife
wielding man, catching his uniform on fire. The man yelled in agony as his
entire body caught ablaze at the small flame. Off guard, Blaine was wrestled to
the ground by a pair of soldiers, holding his hands behind his back and keeping
him face down on the ground. The shock of the igniting man startled the guard
choking Mercedes. He loosened his grip enough for her to elbow him off of her.
Kitty stopped flipping at the top of one of the staircases, turning just long
enough to blow a kiss at her opponents before running off. She wasn't moving
quite as fast as usual—Sam had obviously injured her ankle just enough to slow
her down. He made to run after her but Sebastian stopped him.
"No, Sam, you go find Rory! Santana and I will handle her! Take the Wiccan with
you; the shifters and humans have things under control down there," he ordered,
peering down below. He reconsidered his words as he noted Blaine pinned to the
ground and Kurt and Mercedes struggling with their fights. Kurt had re-armed
himself with a 9mm magnum pistol, and was firing at a guard, missing every
single shot. Mercedes had been subdued by the man who had been choking her
despite her defensive efforts.
"Fine! Go!" Sam shouted. Santana had already begun pursuit before Sebastian had
even spoken, determined to catch the succubus and put her in her place.
Sebastian turned and dashed after her at top speed, not wanting to be left
behind.
Sam jumped down to the first floor, ripped the guard from Mercedes' back and
shoved the guard holding Blaine down onto his back and then called to the
recovering Mercedes. "Gun!" She got up quickly and threw the gun at him, not
even realizing that she was doing it. He caught it in midair, twirled it around
in one hand, aimed the barrel at the soldier and fired. Another shot at point
blank range and the soldier's head exploded in his helmet.
"Thanks," Blaine huffed as Sam yanked him up off of the floor. He paused long
enough to look around at the action. The ignited soldier had 'gone out' and was
only a husk of a corpse on the marble floor. The man Mercedes had shot was in a
heap against the side of the staircase, and Kurt had apparently knocked one of
the guards unconscious. Sam noticed this as well and in a flash, snapped the
man's neck. The crack caused all three humans to wince.
"Sorry, but this is war. They are the enemy. They won't hesitate to kill you,
so kill them first, got it?" Sam said, looking both Mercedes and Kurt in the
eyes alternatively. "I mean it. It's you or them. Rory would rather have you
both. Handle things." He knew in his heart however that both humans would be
struggling with the idea of killing another living being, but they had insisted
on coming and that was their cross to bear. They would have to figure out their
issues with it later.
Mercedes nodded apprehensively and Kurt managed to utter a quiet agreement.
"Come on, you're with me," Sam turned to Blaine. "I have no idea where he is,
so we'll just start looking. Those doors up there are a good start." Blaine
nodded and followed Sam up the stairs. Sam kicked in the remaining pieces of
the doors, more wood splintering inward.
Behind the door was what looked like an endless hallway, doors on each side.
"Shit, this is gonna take forever. If they're locked, blast them in," Sam
directed, stepping into the hall, Blaine behind him. "Dammit why can't I sense
him!?" He didn't get two steps before his head began to scream like a siren,
causing him to drop to his knees and throw his hands over his head as he
yelled.
"Sam! What's wrong?!" Blaine cried, kneeling down next to him. Sam grimaced and
looked up at him.
"I… I can sense him now! I haven't been able to until now. I can feel him, and
he's in pain," Sam answered, his eyes glowing with anger. "I've never felt this
in my head before though."
"Maybe it means he's close, or he's calling out to you. Can he even do that?"
Sam struggled to stand back up, his head throbbing. "I have no idea. None of us
really know the extent of his abilities." He grunted again and put his fingers
to his temples, massaging them. "This has got to stop or I won't even be able
to function!"
"Power through it," Blaine ordered, standing back up. Sam looked at him with a
frustrated glare. "That's what you'd tell any of us to do. Deal with it. We
have a job to do. It's Rory that matters. I'm right, aren't I?"
Sam chuckled even though his brain felt like it might explode. "You're right.
Let's start checking doors, fast."
-ooo-
Ryder had managed to get Rory down from the wall and carefully set him on the
floor. He gave him the gentle kiss he had given once before, easing the pain.
Ryder then began cleaning him up, wiping the wounds with gauze and
disinfectant. He had to hurry because he knew the shudder and loud noise they
experienced were most likely signs of a rescue, and Rory needed to be ready to
escape.
The incubus didn't have time to dress every wound, so he did what he could with
the largest – deep gashes across the boy's wrist and both of his palms –and
then a bandage that wrapped around his torso and across his shoulder. Another
deep cut on Rory's inner thigh and a long cut on his shin were the other two he
wrapped up before he hurriedly, yet carefully, pulled the teen's clothes back
on. He didn't bother putting the t-shirt back on, but simply pulled the button
down shirt on his arms and buttoned a few buttons. He wrestled the jeans on and
was tempted to forgo the shoes, but decided he may need them.
Tears streaming freely down the sides of both of their faces, Ryder hefted the
leprechaun onto his back, reaching behind him and holding him up by his rear,
Rory's arms draped across Ryder's shoulders. Thankfully Ryder had enhanced
strength, so it wasn't too much of a struggle holding Rory's weight. He started
to ascend the stairwell, trying not to lose his balance, but almost tripping as
he heard what sounded like fighting coming from above.
-ooo-
"You'd better run you cunt! When I catch you, I'll tear you apart!" Santana
screamed as she chased Kitty. The succubus had ducked into a side room and
there were so many doors, staircases, and random pieces of furniture that it
was easy for Santana to lose her.
Suddenly, before she could locate the succubus, Santana felt herself falling
forward and barely managed to brace herself with her hands. She looked back to
find Sebastian wrestling with Kitty, who had kicked the younger vampire in the
back and was about to assault her. Kitty was thrashing about, attempting to
break his hold on her.
"Thanks, Seb," the Hispanic woman said with a grin. "Now for you," she
addressed the blonde woman. "I hope you made your peace with the devil, bitch!"
She lunged forward and wrapped her hands around the other woman's throat and
squeezed, trying to cut off her air supply. When Santana leaned down to attempt
to bite her neck, Kitty took advantage of the position and tore herself free,
shoving both vampires backward.
"I think not. I beat you before, I'll do it again," Kitty teased. Recovering
from her injury, she seemed to regain her speed, slipping behind Sebastian and
grabbing his arm. In a motion that couldn't be seen by the naked eye, she
managed to wrench his arm around, a loud crack filling their ears as the bones
dislocated.
Sebastian howled in pain and anger, falling to his knees and grabbing his arm
with his free hand. He swore vociferously at the woman, pure rage filling his
eyes. Santana began to lunge for her again but Kitty jumped out of the way, the
vampire landing atop her maker in a heap. Sebastian swore some more, shoving
Santana off of him. She didn't apologize but instead got back on her feet, her
eyes searching for her target.
"Come and get me Bloody Mary!" Kitty taunted, running off again. Needing no
further encouragement, Santana took off at top speed in the direction of the
succubus.
-ooo-
Tina clapped her hands together, brushing the dirt off of her palms as she
surveyed the hall. She and Mike had effectively put an end to the soldiers that
Mercedes and Kurt had not defeated themselves. Blood was splattered everywhere
– across the walls, the floor, even the tapestries and decor. It looked like
blood-filled water balloons had popped all over the place. All four of them
were covered in the gore, their faces looking as if they were wearing war
paint.
"So now what?" Kurt asked, feeling a little braver and much more energized. His
partially successful altercations seemed to have given him some sort of renewed
spirit and he didn't even notice that his two friends were still nude, albeit
streaked with crimson.
Everyone turned to Mike, the de facto leader of the foursome. "Sam went through
the door up there, Sebastian and Santana went right, so we go left. I'll take
the lead, Kurt and Mercedes next, and Tina brings up the rear. Stay on your
toes, guys. We don't know how many more are around here," he instructed.
"Are you two okay? I mean, this is new territory here. Can you handle these
fights?" Tina asked, worried. "This is life and death, defending yourselves
isn't wrong," she added. She spoke as if she and her boyfriend had been
prepared themselves for the ensuing splatterfest, but in truth both of them
were just as bothered by the slaughtering. Fortunately for them, it was in
their nature to separate the ideals of murder versus survival.
"I'm fine. I have no idea where this bravado came from but I'm going with it,"
Kurt answered confidently.
Mercedes didn't look quite so sure. "This is insane. We're
killing people. Humans," she said, looking sickly. "I killed a man! I shot him
and blew out his spine!"
Mike spoke up before Tina could. "You signed up for this. All of us did. Nobody
said this was going to be a cakewalk. You're in the middle of it now, Mercedes.
I don't take pleasure in killing anyone but this is self-defense, and this is a
rescue mission. These people have hurt your friend, and we're here to stop it.
If you focus on that, you can get through this."
"You always sound so inspirational," Tina praised with a smile. "He's right
though. Rory is our friend. We're defending him as well as ourselves. This
isn't murder." She regarded Mercedes carefully; the darker woman still didn't
seem to be on board with the situation. "Look, if you truly can't do this, at
least try and knock them out, okay? Let the rest of us do the dirty work. If
you can help us incapacitate, we can do the deed we have to do. We're all gonna
need therapy after this anyway. We can have group, now let's get moving."
Mercedes hesitated before looking up at Tina and Mike. "Alright, I can do that
I think," she said. "I don't know what I thought this was gonna be, but not
this. I'm sorry," she went on. Kurt hugged her, kissing her on the cheek. "I
can't believe what I'm—we're doing."
"This is hopefully gonna seem like a bad nightmare when it's over. Me and you
will walk through the aftermath together, okay?" Kurt offered. He sounded
confident, but he would come off of his adrenaline high at some point and feel
the crash of emotions she was already struggling with.
The heavyset woman couldn't help but laugh. "I never figured you would be so
willing to jump into this insanity, Kurt Hummel, but you're full of surprises.
As long as I can deal with the trauma with you, I think I can do this."
"Good, because I don't think I wanna be the only one who went crazy around
here," the teenaged boy replied.
"We need to get moving. I'm sorry if I seem harsh, but we don't have a lot of
time," Mike reminded them. "Let's go."
After Mercedes received another hug from Kurt and they exchanged silent
reassurance, the four of them went up the stairs in the exact order Mike had
specified and began to make their way down the left hallway.
-ooo-
Ryder stepped through the final sliding door, expecting to see Rachel sitting
on her throne, but there was no one in the room at all. Relieved, he set Rory
down against the wall, taking a momentary break. Despite his enhanced strength,
he had been tired to begin with, and Rory was larger than some grown adults,
being, the same size as Ryder. He leaned against the wall himself, taking
several deep breaths.
"R-Ryder?" came Rory's very soft, very exhausted voice. His eyes were only half
open, and he was breathing shallowly. "Where… What's… Ryder?"
The incubus knelt down and gingerly took the boy's hand in his own, being
cautious not to squeeze too hard. "I'm right here. We're in the throne room. I
was carrying you back to your room but I needed to take a breather."
"Why… everything feels so… weird… numb and light at the same time," Rory
wheezed. "I feel so weak. I… I don't e'en know where I am. It's all spinning.
Me head is spinning."
Ryder gulped. "Rachel… she took a lot of your blood. Probably about a third.
Maybe a little bit less. You were bleeding a lot, so I did my best to patch you
up. You're still hurt really bad, but I used my influence on you to ease the
pain. You're incredibly disoriented. I just told you we were in the throne
room," he explained. "I have got to get you to safety. It sounds like something
major is going on out there and I want to make sure you survive."
"Thank ye'," the teen said breathlessly. He looked down at his arms and legs,
which while bandaged under his clothes, were still stained. His injuries were
still bleeding through the gauze. He brought his free hand up before his face,
seeing the stained wrapping. He then touched his chest, felt wetness under his
shirt. "Am I going to die?"
"No!" Ryder shouted unexpectedly. "No, you will not die," he repeated much more
quietly. "She doesn't want you dead. You'll heal, but it's going to take a
while. I swear I won't let you die."
Rory managed a very weak smile for the other man's benefit. "Please don't let
me die, not before I see Sam again," the teen pleaded. "I can feel… I can feel
meself fading…"
"Dammit, no!" Ryder shouted again. He slapped the boy across the face, pulling
him out of his haze. "Sorry, but I had to. You have to get with it. You
are not going to die, you will see Sam again, and somehow one of you will kill
Rachel. So don't youdare give up! Not now!"
Rory reached up and rubbed his cheek where Ryder had smacked him. "Ye' hit like
a girl," he teased, trying to lighten things up a little. "I won't give up. But
ye' 'ave to come with us. When we get out of here, ye' 'ave to come. Sam can
help ye' find a way to-
Rory didn't get to finish his sentence as they were interrupted by a huge
explosion. The throne room doors blasted inward and several of the mirrors
shattered. When the dust cleared, standing in the opening was Sam and behind
him, Blaine.
The moment Sam saw Rory on the floor, obviously in some sort of pain, he let
his rage loose. Whoever the man was in front of him had something to do with
this, and Sam would tear him to pieces only after interrogating him thoroughly.
His violent instincts as a vampire were taking over for the first time in
years.
Sam rushed forward in vampire speed and grabbed the kneeling man by the throat
and slammed him against the wall, the mirror behind him breaking, shards
falling over them. "What have you done to him!?" the vampire demanded. Ryder
had no time to answer before he was slammed against the wall a second time and
then punched in the stomach. "Answer me! What did you do to him!?"
"Sam… please… stop…" Rory called weakly.
Sam didn't hear him as the rage was still running high. Ryder was beginning to
turn blue in the face as Sam's grip was cutting off his air. Ryder clawed at
the fist around him, but Ryder refused to fight back. He was trying to rasp
something out, but it was no use.
Rory leaned over the best he could manage and summoned a dim burst of light,
sending it flying at his boyfriend. The projectile hit, but only startled Sam.
It wasn't strong enough to do anything else, but it got his attention as Rory
had hoped. Sam looked over at him, meeting eyes with the boy.
"What has this man done to you?" the vampire demanded. "What did he do?" Bloody
tears were beginning to form in his eyes, rage starting to be overcome by fear.
"Tell me what he did!"
"He… he helped me…" the teen wheezed. "He helped me. Let… let him go."
Sam wasn't expecting that. He released Ryder, who dropped to the floor on his
hands and knees, gasping for air, the color returning to his face. The vampire
turned his full attention to his boyfriend, kneeling down beside him. "Wait,
what happened?" he asked gently. He took the boy's hand in his, the smell of
his blood sweet in his nose. The last thing he felt, however, was thirst.
"The banshee… Rachel, she… she did horrible things, but Ryder, he helped me,"
Rory said softly. "He's a good man."
"Are you sure? He hasn't played with your mind has he?" Sam asked, sniffling
and wiping away a tear from his cheek, leaving a red smudge.
The leprechaun shook his head. "No. He's good. He's a slave. We 'ave to help
him too," he said.
Sam looked back at the other man, eyeing him. He then looked over at Blaine,
who was guarding the doorway. He nodded, asking Blaine to join them. "Can you
heal him with your magic?"
Blaine knelt down and gave Rory a cursory once over. "No, I don't think I can.
Not this kind of thing. Definitely not as inexperienced as I am."
"You can't try?" Sam urged, blinking away another tear.
"I might end up making it worse. I'm sorry," Blaine replied. He, too, had tears
welling up in his eyes at the sight of his friend. "I can definitely cause his
captors some pain though, and in the meantime, offer some bit of protection."
Without waiting for an order, Blaine quickly conjured up his curtain of energy
that he had used back at the Evans home.
Sam looked around from Blaine, who was busy with his spell, to Ryder, and
finally to Rory. He made his decision. He bit his wrist and placed it before
the ailing boy. "Drink," he ordered sternly.
Rory kept his mouth shut aside from muttering a firm no. He knew that while
Sam's blood would indeed help, weakening his savior was not the best idea at
the moment. Sam would need all of strength to fight and if he were suffering
severe blood loss, Rachel, or even Kitty, would tear through him like tissue
paper.
"I didn't ask! I said drink, Rory! You need my blood to heal. I can see and
smell the blood all over you. You're in bad shape." He pressed his wrist up
against the boy's lips, using his other hand on the back of Rory's head, urging
him to imbibe. "Come on, drink dammit!"
Staring Sam in the eyes, seeing the bloody tears flowing freely, feeling
himself fading again, Rory knew he had to do what Sam was ordering. He parted
his lips and began to suck the open wound on his boyfriend's wrist. He gripped
Sam's arm with both hands, keeping it still as he began to greedily drink,
drawing out the healing blood. He closed his eyes, not seeing the pained look
on Sam's face.
"Are you going to be okay? This is gonna weaken you," Blaine whispered in the
vampire's ear.
Sam didn't answer verbally but simply stared into Blaine's eyes. The
determination and confidence in the man's eyes told Blaine everything he needed
to know: Sam didn't care if it killed him as long as Rory was all right.
The vampire could sense that it was time for Rory to stop. Sam was weakening
quite a bit, and if the boy continued to draw the life-giving liquid, it would
leave Sam in a dangerously vulnerable state. He tried to pull his wrist away
but Rory held on tight. Feeling weaker and not wanting to hurt his boyfriend,
he struggled halfheartedly.
Worried, Blaine reached forward and pulled on Sam's arm, prying Rory's fingers
away. The younger teen was licking his lips as his source was taken away from
him. It was then that he opened his eyes again and began to feel less hazy and
more like he was alive.
Sam was now paler than usual, but he was still able to stand on his own. He
shook his head, collecting himself. "Ryder, right?" he asked, looking at the
incubus. "I need your help with him. We have to get out of here and I need you
to steady him. He isn't ready to be on his own two feet by himself. Blaine and
I can clear the way if necessary."
Reluctant to believe that Sam was in any condition to fight, Ryder agreed
nonetheless. He stooped down and helped his friend onto his feet, pulling
Rory's arm around his neck. Rory wobbled, the injuries to his legs not yet
having healed enough. Realizing this, Ryder repositioned him so that Rory was
once again on his back.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going with that!?" screeched a female
voice. It was Kitty, standing in the destroyed doorway, one hand on her hip,
the other gripping a seemingly unconscious Santana by the neck, dragging her
along.
"Santana!" Sam shouted, alarmed at the woman's incapacitated state. It was then
he noticed that Santana managed to move her head ever so slightly. She was down
but not out.
"I'm not done yet," Santana croaked, grabbing Kitty by the arm. The alarmed
succubus released her grip and screamed as she looked down and saw the pure
rage in Santana's eyes. The vampiress clawed her way up Kitty's arm with one
hand, the other clawing against the woman's chest. Streaks of red burst into
view as Santana's incredibly sharp nails ripped open not only Kitty's clothing
but her flesh as well. Kitty screamed in pain, the attack happening so fast
that she barely had time to react.
"Fucking cunt!" Kitty yelled, finally wrestling her now shredded arm from the
vampiress' claws. She gripped Santana's arms and threw her weight, shrugging
the angry vampire from her body. Santana fell facedown in a heap on the floor,
exhausted from her adrenaline-fueled attack. She managed to look up and see the
succubus screeching at her wounds, trembling with her own ferocious emotions.
Satisfied she had weakened her foe, Sebastian's progeny let herself pass out.
Sam, Rory, and Blaine had watched on in stunned surprise as their associate
went into a crazed frenzy on their enemy, everything happening in vampire
speed. Within seconds, Santana was knocked out, Kitty standing before them
badly wounded.
Ryder gently eased Rory down, letting the boy stand on his own. "Impressive,"
he stated with a grin, his eyes going from Santana back to Kitty. He took
several steps forward, still a 'safe' distance from his adversary. "How does it
feel, Kitty? How does it feel to experience pain? To get your ass kicked a
little bit?"
"Shut up you fucking faggot!" Kitty bellowed. It was a hypocritical insult, her
own sexuality fluid, but she knew the word would strike Ryder just right.
Kitty was wrong.
"Clever. No, really. All these centuries and the best you can come up with is
'faggot'?" the incubus taunted. "I'm disappointed." He was feeling cocky for
once; elated at seeing Kitty finally taking critical attacks.
Kitty's eyes turned a deep red, matching the gashes on her body. "I'm going to
end you, you cocky little shit!" She took a dash toward the man, her speed not
up to par due to her injuries. Ryder ran at her as well, dodging to the side
just in time to clothesline her. She fell on her back but quickly recovered,
turning and launching herself at Ryder, wrapping her legs around his neck and
throwing him.
Blaine was maintaining the shield spell around himself and Rory while Sam
slowly secured Santana out of the way. He may not have liked her all that much,
but she was still an ally and an asset to their group, though he would never
admit the latter to her face.
Ryder wasn't ready to claim defeat just yet. He forced himself back up and ran
at Kitty again. He punched her right in the stomach, his fist tearing into a
laceration. He felt the flesh part further, the wetness of her blood covering
his arm. The woman howled in agony, her scream rivaling Rachel's call.
Kitty fell to her hands and knees, gasping and grabbing her stomach. Despite
Ryder's strength and luck of hitting her injury, he had not gone as deep as she
at first thought. She was weak, but far from finished. She picked herself up,
blood covering her body from the neck down.
The succubus was shaking madly, her body seeming to vibrate. She began to glow
an eerie green color as she began to channel energy from somewhere.
"What is she doing?" Blaine asked openly, the constant concentration of his
spell beginning to give him a headache. "I can't hold the shield and attack her
at the same time, Sam. It has to be one or the other." For reasons unknown to
the Wiccan, this stronger version of his barrier spell was having side-effects
he hadn't expected.
"She's gathering power, but from where I don't know," Sam croaked. "Ryder has
to stop her. We can't chance that barrier coming down and someone taking
advantage of it."
As if on cue, Ryder ran toward the woman, but stopped short. "Kitty what are
you doing!?" he cried. "You'll kill us all! Including yourself!"
"She's channeling her essence. Every soul she ever taken…" Rory said almost
robotically. "I can see them all. Every single person, one after the other."
"What? How?" Blaine asked, confused. "I thought you had to touch someone to see
their memories."
Sam cleared his throat before answering. "It has to be her. The power she's
summoning must be doing something."
"Augmenting…" Blaine said under his breath. "Ryder said she'll kill us all.
I've got to do something! I'm sorry, but I have to!" he cried. He let the
shield fall to the floor and stepped forward, not even entirely sure what he
intended to do.
An idea coming to mind, Blaine began to chant in Latin, his speech coming out
so fast the words could not be understood even by a native speaker. He crouched
down and touched the floor with two fingers, a line of flame running from his
fingertips up toward Kitty and then forming a circle around her. The fire
increased, flames crackling.
The spell was no use. The fire dissipated as the aura around Kitty expanded.
Energy flowed back through the line of fire and pulsed into Blaine, knocking
him backward. Rory managed to catch him, the two boys falling to the floor.
"I'm feeling a little better now," Rory said quietly as he picked himself up
from the floor. Blaine held out his hand and helped him stand. "Blaine, put the
barrier back up. It might be the only thing that saves us if she explodes or
something."
"But what about Ryder?" the Wiccan asked. "We can't let him do this by himself!
He needs to be behind the wall too!"
Rory cried out in pain, grabbing his head. "Oh me god! Ryder! No!" Images
flashed in his head, but instead of the pages of the past, he was seeing
current thoughts. Ryder's thoughts. His idea. His mission.
"I have to stop her…" Ryder said softly. "I can't let her kill Rory. Any of
them." He began to walk toward the glowing succubus, feeling his energy
beginning to drain. If only he could get to her. He wished he could create some
sort of memory to project to Rory, some message to tell him exactly what to do.
He continually focused on his mission, praying that somehow the images would
transmit to his friend.
Pushing all other thoughts out of his head—his regrets, his past, Damian,
everything except his plan- Ryder forced himself into Kitty's aura despite the
great pain he was suffering. He wrapped his arms around her, the woman
screeching in anger. His energy was all but gone, his grip weakening already.
"Rory! Now!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
Tears in his eyes, Rory knew he had to do it. He didn't want to, but if he
didn't they would all die. His hands began to glow the familiar gold, his body
heating up. He focused with his entire mind, holding out his hands in front of
him. "Blaine! The instant this hits her, put the barrier up! I don't know what
might happen!" he cried. He then turned to face the incubus and the succubus.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered as a bright, white flash blinded everyone in the
room, the golden light bursting from the teen's outstretched hands and surging
through the air, hitting Kitty and Ryder.
Rory continued to channel his power, his nose beginning to bleed as his head
focused harder than ever. Finally there was an enormous explosion, blinding
flashes of light, sounds louder than thunder, screams of anger, pain, and agony
resonating in the air. Blaine erected his spell the instant Rory cut off his
power surge, guarding them from the energy overload. Shattered glass from the
mirrors flew through the air, shards reflecting off of the curtain of light.
Despite the shield, when the explosion hit the light, Sam, Blaine, and Rory
were thrown back so far across the room that they hit the wall. Santana's limp
body barely moved at all, still safe from the influx of energy.
The light dissipated, Kitty's glowing body no longer an aura. She lay on the
ground, her body now fully covered in blood, burns, and enormous wounds. Her
eyes fluttered shut as she took her final breath, her soul leaving her body and
dissipating like a cloud of green mist.
Ryder lay on the floor next to her, face-down and burned, cut, and bloody. He
was still breathing, albeit shallowly, and rasping loudly. Rory managed to get
on his feet, torn between checking on Sam and Ryder.
"Go, go to him," Sam said softly. "See if he's…" He closed his eyes as he
struggled to get up, leaning against the shattered mirror for balance. Rory
took one last glance at the vampire and then ran toward where Ryder was
sprawled on the floor. He had taken off so fast he forgot all about the
barrier, but the impact of the blast had broken Blaine's concentration and the
shield had fallen.
"Ryder! Ryder!" Rory yelled, crashing down next to the man. He turned him onto
his back and was horrified by what he saw. Ryder's entire torso was scorched
black with deep angry gashes crisscrossing over him. A pool of blood had
already formed beneath him.
Rory pulled the man's head into his lap, gently caressing his charred cheeks.
Tears ran down Rory's face, dripping onto the incubus' chest. "Ryder… Hang on!
Ye're gonna be okay. Sam can heal ye'!"
"I'm dying, Rory. I'm beyond help..." Ryder croaked out. With each breath he
took, searing pain surged through his body. Ribs were shattered, his spine was
broken. He couldn't feel anything below his middle back, but what he did feel
was excruciating. Tears streaked down his face, drawing thin lines in the blood
and soot that covered him. Rory did the best he could to wipe it from the man's
eyes.
"No! Ye' can't die. Ye're an incubus! That has to mean something!" Rory cried.
"Doesn't it?" he added quietly, already knowing the answer. "Doesn't it!?"
Ryder gasped in agony before he answered. "Even the supernatural has its
limits. I'm done, Rory. I'm done… I saved you, that's… what… matters. That's
what I… what I wanted." He coughed, his entire body quaking in pain.
The leprechaun had no more words for his friend. All along, Ryder had made it
clear he intended to protect him, and he had. Right until the very end.
Swallowing back another cry, Rory closed his eyes and began to focus. The
memory he was searching for was at the surface of Ryder's mind, just where he
had put it earlier. He drew it forward, his nose beginning to bleed again as he
channeled his ability in a way he prayed would work.
"Close your eyes," Rory whispered. The memory was invading Ryder's current
thoughts, taking on a form of it's own, controlled by Rory and overriding all
sense of reality.
"Damian… oh thank you, Damian. My love…" Ryder said softly, his lips turning up
in a faint smile. In his mind, Damian was standing over him, taking care of the
incubus as he lay in a bed, injured.
"Ryder… Ye' can come with me now," Rory said, praying as he worked his ability
beyond his known limits. "Ye're fading, but ye' can be with me now. I can see
ye'. Touch ye'r skin again."
Ryder's smile widened. He knew what Rory was doing even through the haze, and
the fact the boy was putting so much effort into this last moment meant the
world to him, but he knew the truth. He allowed himself to drift back into the
memory.
"Oh Damian, you… you know that's… not true," Ryder said aloud, struggling. You
know… I can't go with you. You're… in Heaven, and my kind… Hell is what waits
for me," he added.
"No, ye've made up for what ye've done. Ye' saved another human life; ye'
sacrificed ye'rself. Ye'll join me here," Rory, as Damian, insisted. His tears
were flowing stronger, soaking into the tattered shirt of his friend.
Ryder smiled again and managed to lift his arm. He caressed the side of Rory's
face with the back of his hand. "A pleasant lie, that. Thank you," he said
quietly. His breathing was slowing immensely, his body turning colder by the
second. Rory could feel the life disappearing from his friend's body. Rory
couldn't hear Ryder's final words of appreciation, another 'thank you', but he
understood anyway as Ryder's memories faded. If the memories Rory could see in
someone's head were a picture book, then this book was closing and the lights
going out. He tried to pull back the images, to draw forward the memories, but
there was nothing there. It was a void. A void that oddly sent shivers through
the teen's body. Ryder was gone.
"No!" Rory shouted at the top of his lungs until his throat was sore. He sobbed
uncontrollably, pulling the dead man's body toward him, hugging him tightly. He
needn't worry about hurting him and Rory needed to hold him one last time.
Sam and Blaine watched the scene from the wall, allowing the teen his privacy.
Sam had no idea what was going on between the two, but he trusted that Rory
would explain it to him. He knew the boy wouldn't stray from him, but Ryder
still must have been someone special. Blood ran from Sam's eyes as he watched
the demon fade away to death, his boyfriend embracing the man and crying.
Blaine took Sam's hand, the vampire not expecting the touch. He didn't protest
however. Blaine led him toward the despairing leprechaun, knowing that what
Rory needed right at that moment was his other half.
Sam knelt down next to his boyfriend and draped an arm over the boy's shoulder.
Rory gently laid the body of his friend back down onto the floor and then
allowed himself to be drawn into Sam's arms, burying his face in the vampire's
chest, his body wracking with sobs.
Blaine stood above the man and began to chant in Latin mixed with English,
offering some sort of Wiccan prayer. He wished Ryder a safe journey to his
destination, prayed that the gods would show him mercy. Sam looked up at him,
his face still streaked with bloody tears, his eyes pleading. He knew there was
no coming back from the dead. Not in this fashion. Ryder was gone and Rory was
sad, and there was nothing Sam could do about it. He couldn't even pretend to
understand what was going on, but he knew Rory needed him more than anything
right then.
-ooo-
Rachel sat on her bed, deliberating. She knew that with the dosage of
leprechaun blood she had ingested, she should be like a god, completely
unstoppable. What worried her was the fact that she really didn't
know everything it did to her. She knew it enhanced her latent abilities, and
she knew it prolonged her life, but she had no idea what other effects it could
have. Centuries of research hadn't amounted to much when it came to that. Even
more worrisome was that she still wasn't feeling any physical changes to
herself.
Suddenly she reeled back on her bed in pain, her head exploding with fire. For
a moment she actually thought she might be dying, that the blood was having a
negative effect on her body, but then images started flowing into her mind. Her
visions of death never came to her this way; this was something different.
"What the hell…" she said to herself. She pressed on her temples, sitting back
upright, closing her eyes. She saw something most distressing appear in her
head: Kitty, standing in the middle of the throne room. She was glowing with a
bright green aura, several people looking on. Ryder was on one side of her,
Rory and his friends on the other. They were shouting something to each other,
and then Ryder dashed forward and tackled Kitty. He shouted something else and
then Rory began to glow too before sending out an impressive surge of his own
power.
Rachel then saw the explosion she had felt minutes earlier, bright flashes
distorting the memories. When it cleared again, the leprechaun and his friends
were against the far wall, appearing to be stunned, but not incapacitated. What
she did not see was Ryder. Instead she saw a large heap on the floor, looking
like smoldering ash and char.
The last image to flash in her head was of Rory, knelt down next to the burnt
remains of what she deduced to be Ryder. They were having a conversation and
then the incubus went stiff and died. Rachel couldn't help but smile at the
pain the leprechaun was experiencing at the loss of his caretaker. She could
see him crying, could see the vampire, Sam, embrace him as he sobbed. He felt
true and utter despair over this creature and it made her tingle in her loins,
the pain in her head completely gone.
The loss of Kitty was more upsetting, but the banshee refused to let her
emotions prevail over her better sense. Kitty had been her right-hand woman,
and in many ways a lover. The succubus had been a powerful fighter, the best
bodyguard she could ask for. Rachel would miss Kitty immensely, but on the plus
side, she no longer needed the protection of the woman.
Keeping her face stoic, Rachel stood, her silk dress billowing as she glided to
the door. Ready or not, she had work to do. "It's time to see exactly what I'm
made of," she said aloud. I'll recapture the fae and force him to watch as I
torture and kill each and every one of his friends. I'll draw it out for years,
make them suffer worse than I ever have anyone else. I will fill his heart with
such despair; he will be mine, no more questions asked.
-ooo-
Sam glanced at Blaine, both of them silently acknowledging they needed to get
moving. Ryder was dead, and Rory was grieving for the loss of a friend, but
they had no choice but to get to safety, otherwise Ryder's death was fruitless.
Blaine went about the task of trying to rouse Santana while Sam tended to his
fretting boyfriend.
Rory pulled back from Sam's chest, sniffling and wiping the tears from his
eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll explain e'erything later, I promise. I just… I can't
right now."
Sam smiled softly, caressing the boy's cheek. "Right now we need to get the
others and get out of here," he said. His voice was gentle yet commanding.
"Mike, Tina, Mercedes, and Kurt are all here. Sebastian too. We have to get
them and get out before-"
"Before I show up?" tittered a high-pitched, yet regal, voice. Her words seemed
to flow from her mouth like a song. "You shouldn't have wasted so much time
crying over that… thing," she taunted, looking toward Rory and the deceased.
Both Rory and Sam stood up, watching her intently as she came through a sliding
door at the back of the room.
"Ryder is not a thing!" the leprechaun bellowed angrily. "How dare ye'!"
Without thinking, he threw his arm out, a short burst of golden light shooting
toward Rachel. Rachel opened her mouth and let out a shriek that was so shrill
it was like a dog whistle. Rory and Blaine couldn't hear it, but Sam could due
to his enhanced hearing. He covered his ears, grunting and falling to his knee.
The light dissipated in the sound waves, Sam still in agony, Santana joining
him as she awoke to a very unpleasant noise.
The banshee then pursed her lips and blew a stream of air that knocked all four
of her adversaries back down to the ground. "Is that the best you can do? Some
light show and angry words? Surely this isn't all that challenges me," she
teased with a laugh.
Blaine muttered some Latin and touched the ground, repeating his fire spell.
Flames appeared at Rachel's feet but she didn't even bother to react aside from
rolling her eyes. She made a sharp, quick whistle, all three of the men and the
vampiress covering their ears. The fire faded as soon as Blaine's fingers lost
contact with the floor.
"This is tired. Vampire, what have you for me?" she asked, turning her
attention to Sam.
Sam knew he was no match for Rachel, even without her overdose of leprechaun
blood. He had yet to recover from Rory's draining. His strength was weak; his
speed wasn't up to par. There was no way he could take her. Santana was in the
same condition – in no state to fight after Kitty's thrashing. "Nothing. I have
nothing," he finally admitted.
"Nothing? You break into my home, steal my leprechaun, and don't even have
anything to fight back with?" Rachel cackled. "How insulting and pathetic. The
least you could do is put up a decent challenge. Instead you have nothing!"
"He said he didn't have anything. He didn't say I didn't!" They heard a
familiar voice coming from behind them. Sebastian. The sheriff dashed at top
speed toward the woman, intent on jumping at her, but she let out a wail that
sent him flailing backward.
"You fucking bitch!" Sebastian screeched angrily, losing all sense of
haughtiness. "I'll kill you!"
Rachel snickered. "Really? Not if that's the best you can muster," she said,
her lips turning up in a cruel smile. "I was actually hoping for a little fun
of some sort. I get kind of bored around here you know."
The banshee sighed and rolled her eyes again, annoyed. "Oh well," she said,
throwing her arms in the air. "I guess I may as well get this over with. Just
so you know, I have no intention of killing you here. I want my leprechaun
alive, and I have a special treat for you all, so you'll be leaving here
tonight and visiting a special place I have for you."
"Oh would you just shut the fuck up!?" Santana blasted back at her. "Do you
realize you sound like every lame villain in history? 'Get this over with?' 'I
have a special treat?' Oh and my favorite so far, 'a special place I have for
you.' What next, 'I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those
pesky kids and their leprechaun?' Get some new lines," she taunted. She knew it
was stupid to antagonize her, but if she was going to die or at the very least
become a tortured prisoner, she was going to make sure she got in a few quips
on the way out.
"Santana, survived and sassy as ever, I see. Good, I hate to think I would be
without my baby girl," Sebastian noted, grinning at his very-injured progeny.
"You're pretty stupid to make jibes at me. You're already dead, halfway to the
true death as it stands now, and then you make insults. Good choice for a
progeny, sheriff," Rachel bit back. Before Sebastian or Santana could return
her snide comments, all five of Rachel's foes were reduced to writhing around
on the floor, holding their ears and screaming. The sound from Rachel's lungs
tore searing pain into their heads, giving all of them severe headaches. The
vibrations against their flesh didn't help, either. It was like they were being
shaken to death.
Rachel stopped screaming. "See how easy it is for me to make you all suffer? To
reduce you to nothing but whining babies, rolling about on my floor? You think
for five minutes that you are some challenge to me, when I have the power of a
god?"
"Just wait until that leprechaun blood wears off," Sebastian hissed. "You won't
be a god anymore! You'll never be a god as long as you have that weakness you
pompous ass!"
"I don't need that blood to take you on. I can kill each and every one of you
all by myself," the woman taunted. "If I really was afraid of you, don't you
think security might have been a little tighter? Instead a nice missile launch
at your airplane, a lackluster 'army' to greet you. There wasn't any need to
waste any more energy than that. You did kill my Kitty though, and that was a
great loss. No matter, your suffering will make up for it."
At this point, Rachel was merely talking out of her rear. It wasn't that she
didn't want to have security; it was more that she didn't have more security.
Despite living for centuries, she had a limited number of beings under her
command, two of her most powerful of which were now dead. The only other person
she had on her side who stood even half a chance couldn't even stand. Artie,
confined to his wheelchair, wasn't even anywhere in sight. In fact, she hadn't
seen him since he sent the missile launch. Oh well, she didn't need him.
His head pounding, Sam looked up at the woman with not only a gaze of hatred,
but also one of curiosity. "Rachel, before anything else goes down, answer a
question," he stated.
"A question? For me? Yes, vampire?"
"What's the point of all this? I mean, yeah you want his blood so you live
longer and have more power, but why are you so hell-bent on killing people and
torturing them and making people suffer? Isn't your purpose simply to give the
warning of death?" he asked, not the least bit of sarcasm or attitude in his
voice.
Rachel cocked her head, intrigued by this new angle. Before she could answer,
however, another voice echoed in the room.
"It's because she's insane," a slightly nasal voice stated as its owner
appeared. It was a man, sitting in a wheelchair. Artie. Rachel snapped her head
back and glared at him, her eyes piercing through him. "That's right, Rachel.
You're insane. The thing is, it's not a metaphor. She is literally lacking her
sanity."
"Explain yourself you ungrateful fool!" the banshee screamed.
Artie removed his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief, taking his time
in answering. "You see, most banshee's don't live past a couple centuries.
Their task of announcing death begins to drain on their sanity. They become
depressed, alone. They become isolated from society. No other beings want to be
around her for fear of the death wail. A banshee can either announce the call
from a vision, or she can even make a call of her own, but either way she does
nothing but bring forth death."
Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed. "I think we are all well aware of what a
banshee does in her lifetime, Arthur," she said sarcastically.
"My story doesn't end, mistress. You forget, I have been with you for over half
of my lifetime. I have seen your mind deteriorate. I have seen the loneliness
consume you. The depression, isolation. You wanted nothing more than to
experience love of another, and you could never have it. You still can't and
not even all the leprechaun blood in the world can change that fact."
"N-Nonsense," Rachel said, her voice not quite as confident as it had been thus
far.
"If you don't mind, I will continue," Artie stated. "The loneliness turned into
jealousy of humans and other beings who could experience love. That jealousy
turned to anger and hatred."
"Sounds like Yoda and Star Wars," Sam observed. He got odd looks from everyone
else. "What? I like sci-fi," he added. It was the most casual moment any of
them had experienced in the past week and would have elicited laughs had they
not been in such dire circumstances.
Ignoring the interruption, Artie went on. "It's at that point that many
banshees commit suicide. Not Rachel. She kept wanting. And wanting. It was a
determination that was built inside of her. When she finally understood that
she could never experience interaction without death, she decided she would
just allow herself to be consumed by the hatred and jealousy. It turned her
into this," Artie concluded, waving his hand toward his mistress.
"Wow, so you really did become insane with negative emotions," Sam said, awed.
"If you were so miserable, why seek blood to make your life longer? Wouldn't
you want to die?"
Rachel seethed. "No! I didn't want to die! I wanted to… I wanted to change
things." It was the first time the woman had appeared genuinely disturbed in
front of any of them.
Five people stared at her, confused.
"I thought that perhaps if I could gain more power, I could have control over
this call of death. Maybe I could finally have what I wanted."
"The thing is, over the centuries her insanity drove her to enjoy hurting
people. Torturing them, killing them, manipulating them. Even now if she got
what she wanted—a lover—she would be so fixated on the suffering of others that
it would destroy any love she could have. This woman can no longer experience
love and affection," Artie stated, raising his eyebrows and smirking as he
pointed his finger directly at her.
Rachel screamed in anger. "How dare you! You disgusting piece of shit!" she
screeched, pointing at her servant. "I trusted you over the years and you
betray my secrets! You betray my trust!"
"No more than you betrayed mine, mistress. You promised me the ability to walk
once again. I've known for three centuries now that it's impossible to make
that happen. Don't you remember, when the accident occurred I drank an entire
vampire and it had no effect? Yet I still held out hope all these years. I
hoped the blood of a fae would allow me to walk again. You swore to me during
my entire servitude that you would restore me, yet who was it that got to
partake of your prize? The succubus. I came to your chambers to beg for my
chance, and you denied me so much as a drop, yet you gave Kitty, a lackluster
succubus who ultimately failed you a drink from your treasure. It was the last
straw, your betrayal."
"No more!" the banshee shouted. She pursed her lips and blew a stream of air at
him, knocking him out of his chair and sprawling onto the floor. She then began
to stroll over to him, bending down and taking him by the throat, lifting him
before her. "I think I'll kill you now before I move on to my plans with the
others. I don't tolerate-"
The woman's words were cut off and replaced with a howl of pain. Light was
flashing behind her and an unbearable heat burned into her back. She twisted
around, dropping the invalid on the ground. Rory was kneeling on the floor, his
arms extended and sending a surge of light toward her.
Angry, Rachel let out a howl that once again knocked over her adversaries, but
Rory didn't let up. Despite falling back on his side, he continued to send
pulses of light at the woman, forcing himself back up on his knees. Rachel
continued to scream, but in agony rather than attack. The beam hit her square
in the chest, burning through her dress and seeping into her flesh. She began
to smoke, but no blood came forth.
The beam suddenly struck upward, smashing her in the face before hitting the
ceiling and then stopping altogether. Rory gasped, let out a deep breath,
dropped his hands to his sides, and then fell flat on his face. As he fell, the
blade that had been thrust into his back slid out. No one had seen Artie crawl
around and come up behind him in accelerated speed.
"No!" Tina screamed. She and the others had come in the door just as Artie's
surprise attack had happened. Mercedes attempted to scream herself, but no
sound came out. Kurt stumbled and then fainted, Mike catching him. All four of
them were looking rather rough, and seeing their friend attacked and killed
didn't help matters.
Rachel stopped screaming the moment the heat stopped in her chest. She dropped
to her knees, gasping and holding her chest with one hand.
"Now I can have my chance… This boy's blood is mine to drink," Artie said, a
grin forming on his face. "Once he is dead, there will be no more blood for
you, either, mistress. You will never have the power you crave, mistress,"
Artie announced triumphantly.
"And neither will you," Sebastian stated simply, grasping Artie's head and
twisting, snapping his neck. The man's body went limp immediately. Sebastian
let go, allowing him to fall in a heap on his face.
Sam was already by Rory's side, bloody tears freely flowing. He didn't dare
move the teen for fear of paralysis. The boy had turned his head to the side,
his eyes looking at Sam pleadingly. His breathing was already shallow, blood
dripping from his lips.
Sebastian and Santana rushed toward the banshee, but the woman looked up just
in time to send them reeling backward with a well timed, albeit weak, screech.
Mike was holding the unconscious Kurt in his arms and Tina was sobbing to the
point of hyperventilating. She wanted to do something but after seeing the
vampires so easily knocked back, she felt useless. Mercedes still couldn't
speak; she simply stood there, her mouth agape, salty tears staining her dark
cheeks. Blaine had turned pale, moments from vomiting.
"No! No, no, no, no!" Sam cried. "I can't even hold him!"
"It's okay," Rory whispered. "Just hold me hand," he added, his eyes half
closed, a complacent look on his face. Sam obliged him, grasping his hand and
squeezing just hard enough so as not to hurt him.
Rachel was still reeling on the floor, tears of her own dripping to the carpet.
She craned her neck up, seeing the scene before her once more, the reality
settling with her. "No…" she said softly. "No… my leprechaun…" She spidered
over to the crowd, stopping directly in front of Rory. "No, not my leprechaun…
he killed him!" she screeched in anger.
"Where is the traitorous bastard?" the banshee demanded. "Where is he!?"
"Right there," Sebastian stated, pointing behind them. "He's quite dead,
however." He spoke with a confidence and calmness he did not truly feel. He had
never been good at handling the feeling of despair, and at the moment he forced
himself not to focus on the aching in his heart.
"Give him to me," the woman hissed. "Give him to me!" she repeated, yelling
loudly. Sebastian nodded his head and dragged the corpse to the banshee,
leaving him in a heap. She took the man by the neck and forced his dead face to
look at her. She was seething. Her eyes were redder than ever before.
Carefully, she turned his head to the side and moved her mouth merely an inch
next to his ear.
"He's dead. It's not like he's coming back," Sebastian said sarcastically,
watching her intently, his eyes searching for the perfect moment to subdue her.
"I'll make sure of that," she whispered. Preparing to hear the wail of death,
several of the crowd covered their ears, but the call she made was so high
pitched, so shrill, that not even the vampires could hear it. Only the
vibrations of Artie's head made any indication that anything was happening. His
glasses shattered, his eyes bulged and then burst, white and red mush
splattering to the ground. Blood ran from his nostrils and ears, out of the
now-empty sockets of his eyes. Brain matter, bone, and gore exploded into the
air as Rachel's scream destroyed the dead man's skull.
Blaine finally did vomit, facing away from the others and retching. Mercedes
turned pale herself, her dark skin turning more of a gray. She dropped to one
knee and covered her mouth, closing her eyes and fighting back the urge to
throw up as well. She lost and had to turn away, decorating the floor behind
her. Tina stood in a state of shock and horror, the image surreal, and Mike
closed his eyes, turning his head away and swallowing back bile. Sebastian and
Santana showed no reaction, being used to seeing the worst of destruction of a
body. Rory didn't see anything but felt something splat on his backside. He
didn't want to know what it was. Sam was far too engrossed in his dying
boyfriend to pay any notice to the violence.
"He will never rise again, not even with the strongest resurrection spell,"
Rachel stated. "He killed my leprechaun. After centuries of searching, it's all
for naught. The last one is dead. Useless."
"What did you say?" Sam growled, looking up at the woman. Sebastian bit back a
grin as he knew exactly what was about to happen and that his services were not
going to be required.
"I said-" the banshee began, but was knocked backward. Sam had pounced on her
and had already begun a barrage of punches to her face. Rachel put her hands up
to defend herself, catching his fists in her hands and then shoving him off of
her. She stood, surprised and angry.
"His name is Rory, you evil bitch!" Sam screamed. He swung his fist back and
then connected with the banshee again, a terrible cracking sound echoing
through the room as her nose broke. "He is not useless! He's worth more than
you could ever hope to be!" he went on, throwing punch after punch at her
between words. His speech was barely making sense to her as her head turned
from one side to the other. She then felt her stomach explode in pain as he
punched her abdomen. She doubled over only to meet a devastating uppercut that
sent her reeling backward.
"Stop it!" she ordered, attempting to right herself. "You don't understand my
pain!"
Sam paused only long enough to taunt her. "Your pain? Fuck your pain! You were
dealt your lot and you went insane. Your pain means nothing! His pain means
everything! He's dying, because of you!" he shouted, closing the distance
between her and himself.
Rachel went to wail, but her voice was cut off by the iron grip around her
throat. Sam pulled her toward his face, eyes filled with rage, looking like a
madman with his face stained with blood. "You can't scream if you can't
breathe! All the blood in the world can't change that. You better hope we can
keep him alive or I will follow you into Hell!" he yelled. Rachel struggled to
make any kind of noise, but Sam's grip was tight and she was starting to weaken
considerably. The blood she had ingested was already wearing off. The legends
were false. The blood didn't bring with it the immortality she had desired.
Instead it had merely given her a false sense of hope. The only answer her
brain could manage to conjure was that the blood itself reacted differently
with every species. It had made Kitty stronger, but had failed to enhance a
banshee's abilities to the same extent.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die once and for all. By the hand of a vampire.
Where did he get this sudden burst of energy? Rage. I am far too weak now. I'm
dying. I can't save myself. Oh I hope to meet Kitty again in Hell. Her thoughts
were becoming more and more disoriented as she began to lose brain function
from lack of oxygen.
Sam pulled his fist back, keeping a firm grip on the banshee with his other
hand. When he slammed his fist forward, he aimed directly for the spot where
Rory's blast had burned into her. His hand tore through flesh, through bone,
and he felt her heart in his hand. It was beating, but barely. Not saying a
word, Sam pulled the woman's organ out of her chest and held it in front of her
face. With a look of utter disgust, he smashed it into her face, covering her
with muscle and organ matter. She couldn't even scream in pain as he reached
back in, grasped her spine, and yanked it right back out. It was then that he
released her throat and dropped her to the ground. He snapped the spine in half
and tossed it aside like a twig.
Faded eyes stared up at the ceiling, her face locked in a mask of terror.
Rachel was dead.
Sam felt weak. He had no idea where the sudden surge of strength had come
from—humans would say adrenaline, but vampires made no such chemical anymore.
It must have come from the same inner strength Santana's barrage on Kitty had
come from. Truth be told, he didn't care how he did it. He dropped back down to
his boyfriend, taking his hand again.
Sebastian hovered over them, his face betraying his emotions. He felt useless
for the first time in centuries. He had not been able to conquer Kitty and
almost lost his progeny to her. His initial attack on Rachel had failed. By the
time he had worked out a course of action in his head, Sam was already
slaughtering the woman, and now all he could do was loom over the dying
leprechaun, unable to hide his despair from the others.
"She's gone, Rory. She's gone. I killed her. I killed her, for you," the blonde
told him. "You don't have to be afraid, stay with me, stay with all of us.
Don't go," he whispered, his voice raspy. He brought his free hand to his mouth
and tore open his wrist. "Come on, drink. It's not too late, just drink!"
"I can't…" Rory croaked. "I can't. It'll kill ye'." He closed his eyes, his
energy leaving him. He knew in his heart he was going to die.
"I don't care if it kills me, you can't die! Drink!" Sam insisted. "Drink God
dammit, drink!" His voice was barely a whisper by then, his wrist pressed
against the boy's lips as Sam urged him to imbibe.
Sebastian exchanged a look of concern with Santana, who only nodded. Finally he
knew how he could be of use. "Sam. You're too weak. He's right. If he drinks,
it will kill you," he stated. "He needs more blood than you can give up right
now."
"I don't care!" Sam shouted. "Drink me dammit, drink my blood already!" No
matter how much he tried to get Rory to drink, the teen refused.
"Sam. I can help. He can have my blood," Sebastian said. Sam glared at him. "I
know you don't like the idea. In fact, I know you hate it. However, I am at
full strength, and can spare the nourishment that you cannot. Santana has
silently agreed to see to my safety afterward."
Sam stared into the man's eyes for several seconds before looking back down at
his boyfriend. They locked eyes, Rory pleading with him. "Rory, will you drink
from him? Will you drink if it won't kill him?"
"I thought ye' told me not to…" the teen whispered.
"Never mind that now; this is a life or death situation! Drink from him and it
can save you. He's offering, so take it!"
Rory managed a pained smile. "I will… I will drink," he managed. Sam sighed in
relief, pulling back his wrist. Sebastian quickly replaced it with his own, a
gash torn across his flesh. He pressed up against the teen's lips, and Rory
opened his mouth, locking around the tender flesh. Sebastian felt the strange
sensation as the boy began to suck.
Rory instantly noticed the difference in taste from Sam's blood. While Sam's
tasted like heaven, Sebastian's had no taste at all. It may as well have been
red water flowing.
Sebastian winced slightly, but insisted he was all right. Never in a thousand
years did he picture himself risking his own life for a human.
Sam watched with concern, seeking any sign of healing taking over but saw
nothing yet.
"Drink as much as you need," Sebastian offered. "I can handle it. Drink until
you can't drink anymore, and then keep drinking." In a sentiment of affection,
he used his other hand to gently run his fingers through Rory's hair as if
petting a feline lapping from its water dish. "You're doing fine."
Santana had more concern over her maker's health, but she had to admit to
herself that she even felt a tug at her heart over the boy. He annoyed her, but
he was important to Sebastian, and that made him matter to her.
Sam continued to watch on, never letting go of Rory's hand. He looked up at
Sebastian, a wordless appreciation communicated between them.
As Sebastian weakened, Santana moved over to hold onto him for support. He
smiled at her, appreciative of her care. The sheriff closed his eyes, feeling
his own life force draining away.
"You can't take anymore of this," Santana warned. "He has to stop or you'll
die," she added.
"He will stop when he is ready. I trust that he will," Sebastian said softly.
He smiled at her again, cradled in her arms. "And I trust you. I know that no
matter how close to the true death I get, you will keep me safe."
The vampiress kept a stoic face but inside she was screaming at him to stop the
madness. His body was going colder than normal, his skin paler than usual. He
was giving up way too much blood.
Sebastian felt relief when Rory stopped suckling his wrist and let the limb
drop to the floor. He licked his lips and sighed, Sebastian pulling his arm
back. He watched intently, waiting for something to happen, just as did the
rest of the group sans Kurt who was still unconscious.
The wound on Rory's back was tingling, the sensation much like when a limb
'falls asleep'. It started to itch, and then it felt hot and burning. It was
slowly beginning to seal itself shut. First the muscles and blood vessels, then
the flesh itself. It didn't look fully healthy. It still looked like an angry
wound, but it was no longer bleeding, and no longer an open wound. Despite the
large amount of blood ingested, the wound would still take time to heal fully.
Even though he had come back from near death once almost instantly after
ingesting Sam's blood, Rory's extreme exhaustion, both mentally and physically,
was interfering with the speed of his healing.
However, Rory's breathing was finally beginning to improve. His eyes were still
drooping like a very tired man, but his breaths were now deep and full rather
than ragged and shallow.
Sebastian passed out in Santana's arms, the woman losing her stoic demeanor and
allowing red streaks to pour down her face in concern for her maker.
"Rory? Rory, how do you feel?" Sam asked.
Rory didn't answer right away but instead looked up and grinned. "I feel
better. I still feel like I got stabbed and tortured, but the pain is less. I
feel like I'm not dying anymore."
Sam smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of the boy's head. "When you feel
ready, we need to get out of here." He then looked at his sheriff and Santana.
"Will he be okay?"
"Yeah, after a fashion. You should both feel lucky. He wouldn't make this
sacrifice for just anyone," the woman replied. She glared at them both, her
eyes filled with a mixture of emotion.
"I'm grateful. He gave up a lot to help me. When he wakes up, I want to make
sure to tell him to his face," Rory said.
"Oh shit! Can you feel that?" Santana asked suddenly, shaken out of her
irritation momentarily. Sure enough, the floor was shaking. No, the entire
building was shaking. They hadn't noticed it before because of all the action
going on, but now that things had slowed down, it was very prevalent.
"The castle. It's not stable," Mike observed. "The explosions, everything. They
all compromised the structure of the building."
"We have to get out of here!" Santana shouted. "If this shit hole collapses on
top of us this will all be a waste! I'll be fucked if I'm gonna meet the true
death here!"
"I don't wanna die in here! Get us out of here now!" Mercedes screamed at the
top of her lungs. "Somebody do something and do it fast before this place falls
in!"
Kurt huffed, having finally regained conciousness. "Blaine, can't you do
something? A barrier, something?" he begged. "Teleportation?"
Blaine shook his head. "Teleportation is beyond my expertise. If I even tried
we could end up in pieces or worse. A barrier isn't going to hold against tons
of rock and who knows what else."
"Then what good is all your magic and shit if you can't do anything!?" Kurt
blurted out. He regretted his words immediately, but he didn't have time to
apologize before Santana tore into him.
"I don't like you people but I'll be damned if you're gonna shit all over
the human that helped save our asses. You've gotten on my last nerve since I
met you and now you talk trash to your ally and your boyfriend?" She turned her
attention to the young Wiccan. "Great choice you made there, buddy. Maybe you
need to find you a real man."
"Stop it!" Rory yelled. "All of ye', stop it! This isn't helping!" He was still
in a lot of pain, wishing very much for Ryder's pain relieving ability.
Rory was incredibly tired despite the blood. "We 'ave to work together."
"He's right. We're all in sad shape, but we have to work together to get out of
here and get safe," Sam declared.
Blaine stepped up to Rory and pulled the boy's arm over his shoulder. "Come on,
I'll help you," he offered, shooting Kurt a hurt glare. Kurt simply hung his
head and joined Mercedes as she started to make her way out of the throne room
and into the hall.
"Thank ye'," Rory replied with a pained grin. Sam quickly came to his aid as
well, the pair helping the teen to stay on his still-wobbly feet.
Santana glared at Mike as he approached her. "I'll help carry him," he said
simply. The woman didn't reply but instead knelt down next to Mike and on
silent count of three, they hoisted the unconscious vampire onto their
shoulders.
"Tina, you, Kurt, and Mercedes go on ahead. If there's anything in our way,
take care of it," Sam ordered. Tina nodded and quickly joined her friends in
the hall as the injured party ambled out of the throne room.
The urgency picked up as the roof began to crumble above them. Clouds of dust
and smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see. Fortunately, vampires and
shifters had enhanced sight. Within fifteen minutes they were back outside in
the hedge maze.
Rory shifted his weight onto Sam as Blaine stepped up to knock down the walls
of the maze for easier passage. "There. I guess my magic is good for something.
Let's get out of this hellhole," he said, shooting Kurt another harsh glare.
Upon leaving the hedge maze and arriving next to the gates, they stopped for a
moment to watch as the castle cracked right down the center, the entire
structure falling inward. Kitty had destroyed one last thing before she died,
and this was something they were all happy to see go.
"What now?" Sam asked, nervously looking around. "It's almost dawn. The plane
is destroyed. We don't even have a car."
"Cell phones. Hello?" Mercedes piped up. "It's the digital age. Never leave
home without it," she said, pulling her phone from her pocket. The screen was
scratched, but the rubber casing had kept it from breaking altogether. With
Rory's assistance they were able to get hold of a trio of cabs to take them to
a vampire-friendly hotel.
Sam went into the lobby and paid for the rooms, the entire group splitting up
with their respective mates. He smiled as he heard Kurt apologizing profusely
to Blaine in the next room. Of all of Rory's friends, Kurt was his least
favorite and it had upset him that the boy had reacted so harshly to his
partner.
Santana slept soundly next to Sebastian, draping her arm over his chest
protectively. Mike, Tina, and Mercedes fell asleep almost immediately, the
entire night catching up with them.
Back in Sam and Rory's room, the vampire sat on the edge of the bed, staring
down at his boyfriend as he collapsed on top of the comforter. They had taken
quick a quick shower, remaining silent as the muck washed down the drain. As
soon as they were dry and clothed in pajamas, Rory had collapsed on the bed.
"I love you," Sam declared, smiling and caressing the teen's cheek. "I'm sorry
I couldn't protect you."
Rory looked up at him with soft eyes. He had black circles under them from
exhaustion, blood was stained all over him, and he had bruises and cuts that
were desperately trying to heal themselves. He still is the most beautiful
person I have ever seen, no matter how bad of shape he is in," Sam thought.
"Ye' came for me. That's all that matters. Ye' came for me, and ye' took me
back. It's o'er now." After several seconds of silence, he spoke again. "Right?
It is over now, isn't it?"
"Yes, yes it's over," Sam assured him. "Rachel is dead. Kitty is dead. All of
their army is dead. There's no one to hurt you anymore."
"But Ryder is dead, too." Rory shut his eyes, struggling to hold back tears.
"Ryder. He's gone…" Ryder had risked his life to keep them safe. Rory refused
to believe that anything but happiness was waiting for him in the afterlife.
Damian had to be waiting for him. Self-sacrifice should cancel out a lot of
other bad deeds in his life, or so he hoped and prayed.
Sam remained stoic. "What's the—"
"What's between me and Ryder, right?" Rory asked. Sam nodded nervously. "I
promise ye', someday I'll explain e'erything. But right now, right now it's too
much. I promise ye' though, I ne'er strayed from ye'. Not at all. He was me
friend, that's all."
Sam smiled and leaned down to kiss the boy on the forehead. "I know. I don't
doubt that one bit. I just wanted to know… what happened. But you can tell me
later, when you're ready."
"Thank ye', Sam. I love ye'. Knowing ye' were coming for me, knowing ye' loved
me too, that kept me going methinks."
"Shh… let's go on to sleep now. Enough talking about all this. We need rest,
both of us."
He slid onto the bed properly and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Within
seconds they were both asleep, not waking for two days.
Once the entire group had time to recover, Sebastian contacted VITA to arrange
their trip home. It was expensive, especially since he had to pay the
deductible on the insurance for the plane that had been destroyed, but he had
no qualms about shelling out the cash, even for the humans. Half a day later,
they were all home.
-ooo-
One week later…
"Life seems pretty boring now, huh?" Tina joked as she counted her tips. Kurt
and Mercedes glared at her, not appreciating her sense of humor. "Sheesh, just
kidding! You have to admit though, after all that, it does seem kind of strange
going back to everyday life, doesn't it?"
Kurt didn't answer, choosing to escape to the kitchen. Mercedes wiped down the
bar for the second time, pretending not to hear the other woman. The last thing
she wanted to do was recall anything they had just gone through. Especially
taking the lives of other living beings.
Tina shrugged and joined Mike at the register. "They're taking it pretty hard.
We all are. How are we ever going to come to terms with this? With taking
lives?" she asked sullenly.
Taking a cue from Sam, Mike remained firm. "We simply move forward. We can't
dwell on it, but what we can do is remind ourselves that it was self-defense.
None of this was in cold blood. We had to help our friend and we were attacked.
We did what we had to do."
The tall Asian man hugged his girlfriend tight, not letting go of her and she
quietly wept into his chest. "I hope we can all believe that. I hope we can,"
she said softly between sobs.
-ooo-
Rory woke up in his bedroom at Sam's home. No, not Sam's home. Their home. He
loved the expensive bedding, the incredibly soft pillows, even the smell of the
room. Most of all, he loved being able to spend more time with Sam.
He propped himself up on his elbows, his back still aching where the knife had
been driven in deep. Even though the incident had been over only a week ago,
most of it was hazy. He was thankful for that. They were memories he didn't
think he wanted to remember.
The teen reached over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp. The clock
read six in the evening. Sam should be awake, or about to wake up. He pulled
the blanket away from his feet and sat up on the side, closing his eyes a
moment. The teen was having the occasional spell of dizziness if he got up too
quickly.
He stepped down on the floor, shivering. The slick wooden floor was cold and he
had no socks on his feet. He was only wearing his boxer shorts, so he padded
over to the dresser and dug out a pair of pajama pants, a long-sleeve pajama
top, and some socks.
No longer cold, he made his way down the hall toward the stairs, descending
very slowly and holding on to the handrail with both hands. His head felt a
little light, but closing his eyes for a couple of seconds seemed to make it
pass.
"Sam?" he called out. There was no answer. He hadn't woken up yet. The vampire
would be able to hear him speak from anywhere in the house. He took a moment to
walk toward Sam's office, noticing that the room was still in disarray. It
appeared as though a tornado had hit and the rescue crews hadn't come yet.
Making his way to the living room, he saw a similar scene of destruction.
"You're awake," came Sam's voice from behind the teen. He didn't startle, nor
did he pull away when the man wrapped his arms around him from behind. "You've
been asleep so much since we left Ireland. I worry a bit. How do you feel?"
Rory smiled, pressing his palms against his boyfriend's hands. "Alright. Still
weak, light headed. I ache, especially in me back."
"That's to be expected. It was a mortal wound. It's going to take time to heal
properly, even with the large amount of vampire blood you ingested. It's not
like when I healed you the very first time. I was at full strength then, and
well, I honestly don't know why else it's different now. Why it's taking longer
to heal you. Maybe it's from the blood you drank."
Rory turned around and gazed into Sam's eyes. "My memories 'ave been so mixed
up since we got back. They're all in pieces and some is gone, and some fades in
and out. But I remember the blood. It was Sebastian's. I nearly killed him," he
said. He lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed at his greed. "Is he alright?"
Sam nodded. "Yes. Another memory lapse I'm guessing? I told you he was alright
the first time you woke up, and a second time the other day. Santana is taking
care of him. He's pretty much back to his old self. You drained him quite a
bit, but he managed."
The teen half-smiled . "Good. I'm glad he's okay." He wrapped his arms around
Sam and leaned his head against the man's chest, closing his eyes for a moment
as he breathed in the scent of Sam's freshly washed clothing. "I'm sorry I
drank him when ye' told me not to," he said softly.
The vampire sighed. "You didn't have a choice. It was either that, or die. I
think you know which option I was voting for." He nuzzled his chin on Rory's
shoulder. "You have a bond with him now, you know. He can sense your emotions
now. You may even have… sexual desires for him," he added, his tone filled with
sadness.
"No, I could ne'er do that. I could ne'er 'ave sex with him. He disgusts me
with his personality."
Sam chuckled. "You wouldn't really have control over it. It's something we'll
have to deal with when it occurs."
"What happened here, Sam? And in ye'r office?", Rory asked, eager to change the
subject. He could feel in his mind that he had been told once before, but the
memory he was grasping for just wasn't there.
"I explained it the day we got back. I reacted poorly to your kidnapping and in
the process, scared everyone and made a big mess of the house. I think they
thought I might hurt them."
"I don't think ye' could e'er hurt one o' ye'r friends, even by accident. It's
not in ye'r nature. Ye' might get mad, but ye'd ne'er hurt them. Give ye'self
some credit."
"You have a lot of faith in me, especially since vampires can be incredibly
unpredictable," Sam noted.
Rory scoffed playfully. "Now ye'r just being cocky." Sam feigned feeling
insulted. "By the way, I'm not cleaning this up," he added, pointing to the
mess in the room.
"Yeah yeah, you said that twice now. I'll work on that later. Right now, I
kinda wanna take you to bed with me," the elder teen admitted.
"Ye' mean sleep with me? Maybe watch some of the tele until I fall asleep.
Again," the younger teen replied, knowing full well that was not what Sam was
referring to.
"Uh, I kinda meant something else," Sam said. "I wanna take you to bed and make
you feel real good. I think you earned it, and might even need it."
Rory gulped. After the experience with Ryder, sex was the last thing on his
mind, and even though it was Sam, he wasn't ready yet. So he lied. "I don't
think I'm up to it. Still feel weak and light headed. Can't we just cuddle and
watch a movie until I fall asleep? I really need the rest. E'en after several
days. Besides, I'd like to remember it. Let's see what happens with me memory
problem."
Sam sighed, defeated, but then he smiled. "Sure. My libido can hold out another
day I suppose. Let me carry you upstairs though. You seem a little woozy." Not
waiting for argument, Sam lifted the boy into his arms and slowly carried him
up the stairs. He chose not to utilize his vampire speed for fear it might make
the boy feel ill at the moment. He laid the teen down on the bed, removed all
but his boxer briefs, and got into the bed snuggling up next to him and pulling
the thick blanket over the top of them.
Rory used the remote to turn on the TV and find a movie on one of the premium
channels. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep in Sam's arms, the vampire
unmoving until he had to return to his coffin for safety and sleep of his own.
Before he drifted away, he prayed to God that Rory's memory would correct
itself, that it would stop going in and out on him and return to normal.
Whether it was some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome, or an actual
physical effect of Rory's powers, they would have to figure something out if it
continued to go on much longer. His worries faded away as slumber claimed him.
-ooo-
Sebastian lay in his own coffin, not yet asleep. He could sense Rory, resting
peacefully. Envisioning the teen lying on his bed, nude and touching himself
was enough to drive Sebastian crazy. Now that he had the bond with Rory, his
affections felt stronger, his arousal for the teen increasing, and his desire
to win him over, magnified. Santana was furious. The sheriff was suddenly
uninterested in having sex with her, but she understood the reason. That didn't
mean she had to like it, however.
"I will have you eventually, Rory Flanagan. I'll make you mine, and you'll
forget all about Samuel Evans. It's only a matter of time," Sebastian Smythe
vowed to himself before finally letting himself doze off.
-ooo-
Blaine sat on the floor of his bedroom, the only light coming from scented
candles around him. Despite Kurt's apologies, he still felt a little hurt and
found himself taking more comfort in meditation. It helped clear his head, and
if his mental acuity was tuned just right, he could even experience lucid
dreams.
A skeletal hand erupted from solid earth, grasping the dirt for purchase as a
second hand revealed itself. In an eerie light, flesh began to materialize over
the bones. The flesh looked like porcelain, the skin of a woman. A flash of
solid white light and the image shifted. A shadow on the ground of a horse
running, except the horse was being ridden by something, something either very
short, or without a head. The shape was hard to discern but was definitely not
completely human. The sound of someone, a female, chanting filled his ears;
spells he was unfamiliar with were flowing from the ground where the hands had
erupted.
The teen's eyes snapped open abruptly as whatever spell was being incanted was
finished and his meditation was destroyed. His breath was taken away
momentarily as his mind returned to conciousness. "Oh my goddess…" he said
softly, his eyes wide.
 
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