Chapter Text
“What are you doing?” Dennis glanced down at the stake.
Park sneered. “Taking out the trash.”
Dennis held his hands up. “I haven’t hurt anyone. Please. There’s no reason.”
The hunter barked out a bitter laugh. “I don’t need a reason. You’re a disgusting monster. A freak of undead nature. You haven’t hurt anyone, yet, but you will. You’re all the same.”
“I’m still a person. I’m still human.”
“Maybe once. Now you’re just dead.”
With that, Park lunged. He brought the stake down, but Dennis managed to duck out of the way.
Park swerved. He threw his arm out, catching Dennis in the temple with the butt of the stake. The force of it made Dennis stumble, clutching at his head. Park took the advantage and caught Dennis’ wrist.
He wrenched, trying to pull Dennis closer. The vampire yanked his wrist free and shoved Park away from him. The other man went back a few steps, knocking into a cabinet and rattling the dishes inside.
“Fuck. You’re a strong one.” Park chuckled darkly. They circled for a moment, both bracing for the other’s next attack.
Dennis kicked the fridge door closed. Park needed the light. He didn’t.
In the second of confusion, Dennis went low. He flung himself and his weight at Park’s center of gravity, wrapping his arms around the middle. He tackled him to the ground and the stake clattered out of his grip. Their impact on the tile shook the room with a dull thud.
Park grunted. He reached for the stake but Dennis swung his leg and pinned his arm to the ground with his foot.
He shoved Park’s other hand to the ground. He squeezed until he felt tendons snap.
He surged forward again, but Dennis ducked his chin and rammed his head into Park’s. His head snapped to the side with the force of the headbutt to his chin.
The hunter struggled again, trying to wrestle himself from Dennis’ grip, but the vampire had him held firmly to the kitchen floor.
Dennis curled his lips back and growled. A warning not to move again. It was a feral and animalistic thing, torn from deep inside his chest.
“And you insist you’re human.” Park spit out, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. “Well, go on. Kill me.”
Dennis squeezed harder and unhinged his jaw. His fangs dropped from his gums. He could hear the man’s heartbeat quicken. Adrenaline. Pain. Fear.
“No. I won’t. I’m not a killer. Not like you are.”
Park opened his mouth but his words were interrupted by the sound of a shotgun cocking.
Dennis looked up to see Robby in the doorway of the kitchen, gun in his hands, and Jack over his shoulder.
“He attacked you?” It was barely a question. The boom of Robby’s deep voice was thunderous, shaking in righteous anger.
Dennis nodded. Robby tilted his head, a motion for Dennis to come to his side. He loosened his grip, made sure Park wouldn’t make any sudden movements, and got up to stand behind Robby.
Park coughed and pushed himself to sit up with a wince. Robby kept the gun trained on his chest. “How cute. You taught the monster to heel.”
“Get out of my house.”
“Fine. Don’t want to stay with a traitor anyways.” He staggered to his feet. Robby used the shotgun to nudge him out of the kitchen and out the front door. Jack stayed between them and Dennis, shielding him.
“You’re through. The Guild will be hearing about this. I suggest you stay out of my fucking way.”
Once the hunter was out of their house, Robby dropped the gun to the floor and rushed to Dennis, taking his face in his hands. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. Please tell me you’re okay.”
Dennis set his hands over Robby’s. “I’m okay, Michael.” The man’s given name slipped out unbidden. He liked the way it felt in his mouth.
“You’re bleeding.” Jack pointed out.
“Huh?” Robby touched his temple and his fingertips came back red.
“Oh. Yeah, he got me.” Dennis mumbled out. He tried to tell the older men he was really okay, but they were already corralling him up the stairs.
He was set on the bathroom sink. Robby stepped between his knees, antiseptic and gauze in his hands. “This will sting.”
Dennis rolled his eyes fondly. He gently dabbed at the cut. It didn’t sting.
“This isn’t necessary, Robby. I’ll heal.”
“Let me fuss. I’m good at it.” Dennis hooked his ankles behind his back, drawing Robby in closer. He could hear Jack’s crutches on the hardwood of their bedroom, then his voice.
“You sure he’s okay? No concussion?”
“Just a scratch and a bruise.” Robby assured his husband. “He’s a tough kid.” He placed a bandage over the cut and then a soft kiss over the bandage. “Let’s go to bed.”
With Dennis’ legs still around his middle, Robby hefted Dennis off the counter and into the bedroom. Jack laughed, but followed them with a shake of his head. “You’re going to regret that in the morning, old man.”
Robby set Dennis down in the middle of their massive bed. He stretched into the soft sheets like a cat in a patch of sunlight. He shimmed out of his sweatpants and shirt and reached for Jack, who was watching Dennis from the other side of the bed.
From over Jack’s shoulder, he could catch a glimpse of something red and gold resting on his nightstand. Dennis’ rosary. Jack kept it by his bedside.
Jack wrapped Dennis into him, resting his chin in those messy brown curls. Dennis had his nose to Jack’s strong and steady pulse.
“We’re sorry we let him in. It’s our fault he-“
“No.” Dennis cut off Jack’s apology. He didn’t need it. “I don’t blame you. He’s the one that chose to attack me.” He yawned and nuzzled closer into Jack’s bare chest.
The bed dipped and Robby’s soft chest pressed up behind him.
He could feel the burn of his Star of David against the skin on his back.
—
Dennis had let himself believe the lie.
He had let Robby and Jack coddle him into ignoring the truth.
Brendan Park may have been awful. But he wasn’t wrong.
Dennis wasn’t human.
He couldn’t get that taunting voice out of his head. Dennis wondered what the point of existing was if he wasn’t alive. Not truly.
He had tried to shake the thoughts away, but they wouldn’t leave him. None of Park’s words would.
He sat in Robby’s lap, straddling him with their chests pressed together. He had been dozing on the man’s shoulder as he read. Jack was similarly curled up in the armchair, snoring quietly. The rain pattered against the bay windows. The lights were off save for the orangey glow of a lamp next to the couch.
“Mikey?” He had taken to using Michael or Mikey, not Robby. It felt intimate. The older man didn’t seem to mind.
“Hm?” Robby sleepily responded.
“Am I still a fledgling?”
Robby set his book down. “Let’s see. It’s been over a month. You’re feeding less. So, I’d say no. You’re probably no longer a fledgling.”
Dennis frowned. “Probably? You’re not sure?”
“We can check your fangs. It’s a good indicator of growth. Yeah? Alright, let me see.” His hand cupped Dennis’ chin. Dennis obeyed, letting his jaw go slack. Robby hummed, his other hand lifted Dennis’ lip, prodding at his gums until Dennis’ fangs descended.
Robby’s lips pressed together, eyes sparkling like he was trying not to laugh. Dennis frowned. “Wha?” He asked around the large fingers in his mouth.
“They’re just a little small.” Robby couldn’t contain his teasing lilt.
Dennis pulled his head back. Robby’s fingers fell out of his mouth and smeared spit on his chin. “Is that bad?”
”No. It’s cute.”
Dennis scoffed. “My fangs are cute.”
“That’s what I said.”
“There’s hardly anything cute about being … this.”
Robby’s hands stall where they had been idly running along Dennis’ waist. “This? You mean being you? Being the person you are?” He tried to placate, already sensing the dark path Dennis was starting down.
“I’m not a person.” Dennis snapped, his shoulders drawing tight.
“Of course you are.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not alive. How can I be a person?” The dam had broken. All of the ugly thoughts came rushing out from behind it. “My heart can’t beat, my lungs can’t fill with air, I barely bleed, I barely feel pain. My pulse doesn’t race when I’m scared. I don’t sweat when I’m nervous. Can you be human if you can’t feel? Everything is numb, like I have permanent damage to my whole limbic system. And, I can’t even fucking pray to that higher one because He’s forsaken me. I can’t repent or hope for salvation. I’m dead, inside and out.”
For once, Dennis wasn’t crying. His steady blue but Robby’s endless brown. Wetness was collecting at the other man’s lash line.
“But your brain, that big, beautiful brain, Dennis, still works. That’s what makes the difference between the dead and the undead. That is what makes you you. It’s your mind that really counts.”
“And what of my soul?” Dennis whispers into the space between them, the words drawn unthinking from within. “Do I still have it?”
”Of course you do.” Robby sounded so sure, like it was a given fact.
“How do you know?”
”Because I can feel it in my own.”
Dennis had no words, not ones that can match the magnitude of Robby’s. So, he tilted his face up and kissed Robby, pouring his intentions out of his lips in another way.
Robby’s hands slid up his back and he pulled Dennis closer to him. The kiss was slow, soft and tender. Robby tasted like tea and the cigarettes he snuck when Jack wasn’t home. His lips were chapped but warm. Dennis could feel his glasses pressing against the bridge of his nose but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“What did I miss?” Jack’s groggy voice asked. It was gravelly and rough in the way Dennis had become acquainted with by waking up next to him.
Robby broke the kiss, separating from Dennis’ lips just enough to respond. “Our sweet boy needed a bit of a pick-me-up. To get out of that pretty little head of his.”
Dennis could hear blankets shifting and then Jack’s face was next to Robby’s with a charming sleepy smile. “Hey, Den. What’s up with you?”
It was so disarming and silly that it made Dennis crack, a small laugh working its way out of him. “Oh, you know. Questioning my existence and merits as a person, what it means to be alive if I can’t truly feel anymore.”
“And I told him all that matters is that his clever mind is still there, that he can still feel love and joy and pleasure. Even if his …what was it?”
“Limbic system. Which is in my brain, Michael.”
“Explain it to us.” Jack shifted closer, his hands coming to rest in Dennis’ hair.
“It’s the emotional nervous system. It controls all of the emotions and behaviors essential to survival: fear, hunger, pain. All of that. It’s made up of five different structures.” His medical knowledge was second nature, carved into him from years of study and discipline. Pulling it out again was bittersweet.
“Smart boy. Go on.”
Dennis squirmed a little under the unwavering attention. “There’s the hippocampus, which impacts memory. It converts short-term to long-term memory.”
“Then we know that’s intact. You still remember your family. You still remember Trinity.”
“Where is it?” Jack asked which made Dennis laugh.
“This is all deep in the brain.” Jack just hummed, spreading his fingers in Dennis’ hair, applying light pressure.
“Gotta check it out. Just to be sure.”
“Hypothalamus controls hunger.”
“That’s easy. We’ve got enough scars to prove your hunger.” The fingers slid to the base of his skull. Dennis’ eyes fluttered shut and he melted into their hands like putty.
“Amygdala. Fear and aggression.”
“Plenty of that too. I think you made Park shit his pants.”
“The cingulate cortex processes pain. I think that one has dulled.”
“Maybe you’re just tougher now.” Jack’s thumbs press into his brow bone, over the foramen above each eye, massaging out the tension.
“And the thalamus. Sensory and …” Dennis takes a steadying breath. “Emotion.”
“Open your eyes. Look at us.”
Dennis listened.
“What do you feel?”
He couldn’t say the first word that came to mind. Not yet.
“Happy.” He said instead. “Safe. I feel … a lot.”
“Then I’d say your thalamus is fine.”
—
“You sure you want to stay home. You can come with us, you know?” Robby was leaning over Dennis with one arm above him on the doorway. The daylight made the handsome grey in his beard shine.
Dennis pushed his shoulder playfully. “Yes, I’m sure. The house won’t clean itself.”
Hot hands curled over his waist from behind, fingertips brushed over the sensitive skin of his stomach under his shirt. “That’s what a cleaning service is for.” Jack murmured into his ear.
“Just go.” Dennis rolled his eyes fondly.
“He can’t wait to get rid of us!” Robby cried and clutched his heart. “Maybe we shouldn’t leave. We don’t want him getting up to no good.” He lent down and kissed Dennis, quickly opening the vampire’s mouth with his.
“Mph!” Dennis’ protests about them being in the open front doorway, facing the busy street, died in his throat. He was not sure if Robby’s elderly neighbors appreciated the public display of affection, but he paid them no mind.
Jack’s lips, and then his tongue, pressed against the shell of Dennis’ ear. He shivered, not knowing if he should push forward or lean back.
Dennis had to go on his tiptoes to kiss Robby back. Jack followed him, attaching his mouth to Dennis’ neck and sucking harshly.
A soft whine left Dennis.
“Aw, poor thing.” Jack cooed. “Still want us to leave?”
”Yes! Stop teasing me!” They laughed at him, releasing him from their hold.
Robby ruffled his hair. “We’ll be back tonight. Stay safe.”
With final chaste kisses, the hunters left and Dennis shut the door behind them.
He was going to clean the house, that wasn’t a lie, but first he had plans. He bit his lip but he couldn’t help the giddy smile spreading across his face.
Wednesday, three days away, was Jack’s birthday. The fact had slipped out. Jack had said he didn’t celebrate, and so Dennis was determined to change that. He was going to change it with a massive double fudge chocolate cake. Jack’s favorite.
He hadn’t told Jack, or Robby because it was impossible for one husband to keep a secret from the other.
Dennis was going to slip out to the store while they were gone and be back before they were, none the wiser. He had planned it all out. He wanted to make this special.
He grabbed his wallet and tote bag and slipped his headphones into his ears. Rick James was soon crooning loudly through the small speakers. He made sure to lock the door.
Dennis walked to the store, a happy bounce in his step. He slowed to pet a dog and wave hi to a baby.
Maybe if he had paid more attention or if his music wasn’t so loud, he would have heard the scuffling of shoes following him down the sidewalk.
Maybe if he wasn’t so concerned with which brand of chocolate cake mix to buy or if he hadn’t kept his sunglasses on to dim the store’s fluorescent lights, he would have noticed the shadows across the linoleum floor.
Maybe if he hadn’t stopped to smell the flowers in that little secluded park on his way back home, he would have had a warning before the needle pushed into his neck.
Dennis yelped but a strong arm barred itself across his chest. He tried to struggle but his limbs were growing heavy, fighting against him.
“It’s colloidal silver. There’s no use.”
Dennis didn’t get to see his attacker, only a dark shape in his spotty vision, before he slumped to the ground and passed out.
…
The smell woke Dennis first.
The putrid smell of rotting flesh and blood.
It was all too familiar.
No.
He cracked his eyes open. Pushing his eyelids up was a Herculean effort, his body still fighting the poisonous silver swimming in his veins.
A dingy floor, covered in grime and blood. Broken glass was littered around. Moonlight streamed in through the partially caved in ceiling. His vision was slowly clearing, but he didn’t want to look.
No. Please, no. No, no, no, no, no, no.
This can’t be happening to him again. Dennis felt like he was going to throw up.
He was back in Hell.
The rattling of chains caught his attention. At the end of a silver chain swinging from the wall, a woman was collared. She was thrashing and throwing her limbs around wildly. She was growling and gnashing her teeth. Her eyes held a red glow.
Dennis had seen a person like her before, when he was still alive, but now he knew what she was. A feral vampire.
He tore his gaze from the poor creature and looked to his other side. It wasn’t any more forgiving.
There was a man curled up on the floor of a cage. He was pale, and Dennis could see the streak of red smeared on his arm. A human blood bag. He wasn’t moving.
Dennis whimpered. “No, no.”
There was no question if Dennis Whitaker was scared at this moment. He was fucking terrified.
“He’s waking up.” Someone said from above him.
A boot nudged him until he rolled over onto his back, blinking up at the outline of someone standing over him.
Pale skin. Sleek black hair swooshing around her shoulders. Familiar tattoos littered down her arms. Green eyes.
“Hey, Huckleberry.”
Dennis made eye contact with his guardian angel, risen again.