Work Text:
Bill gets bitten on his way home from work.
Ted’s been varying between sitting nervously on the couch and pacing around the living room for hours, biting his nails to the quick. Normally, Ted isn’t a worrier, but it’s just… it’s been too long. He finally ends up calling the princesses, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain, and they promise to head on over, if only just to be with him while he waits.
When Bill finally shows up, he’s scared and half out of his mind from the turning and absolutely covered in blood. Ted smells him before he sees him, the regular scent of him dull under the thick layer of copper and wrongness, and his hackles rise instinctively. He rushes to open the door when he hears a thump against it, causing Bill's blonde curls and compact body tumble through the entrance. All he can feel is fear and confusion; Bill is obviously hurt, the smell of blood even worse now that Bill is inside, overwhelming even Ted's less sensitive nose. Ted rushes forward to catch his friend as he falls and his confusion takes him off guard, leaving him off balance when Bill leaps on him.
The bright, white hot pain of Bill's teeth sinking into his arm makes Ted cry out, grabbing at Bill's shoulder with his other hand, and he wolfs out from the pain and the fear. He snarls at Bill, the wolf taking over, claws digging into his friend's shoulder, but Bill just pulls off to hiss at him, ripping at the skin of Ted's arm as he pulls away to bare his fangs. The sight of him jars something deep inside Ted, something even the wolf shies away from.
Bill's a vampire.
The blood is flowing freely now from the inside of Ted's forearm, dripping all over the two of them down to the carpet. Ted wants to be sick, bile rising in the back of his throat from the pain and the sight of it, and he groans as the cold rush of adrenaline surges through him. Bill fastens his mouth back to Ted's arm, and Ted can feel it when he sucks, feeding off of him, the wet heat of his tongue lapping up everything he misses. He whines, feeling lightheaded as he grips at Bill's shoulder to try to pull him away, but he’s getting weaker by the second, every suck of Bill's mouth like a wave crashing over his head.
"Bill," Ted moans painfully, seeing spots, and he wavers on his feet before collapsing. He feels like he falls slowly, slumping over onto Bill before sliding off onto the soft carpet. The wolf retreats as he fades, his features shifting back to normal, but surprisingly, he feels the incredible pain of the wound on his arm begin to lessen.
He's floating now, no more waves pulling him under, but he still feels the heat of Bill's tongue lapping over his skin, gentle and soft. Bill’s saying something into his skin between licks, tightly gripping Ted's hand in his, but Ted can hardly feel it through the tingling in his fingers. Actually, his whole body is tingling, painful pins and needles as his body tries to heal itself, and he sobs, the fear and panic he feels for Bill overwhelming him as hot tears track down his cheekbones into his hair. He must be so scared, he thinks, panting, his heart racing, he’s just scared, he didn’t mean it. He can't open his eyes, but his eyelashes flutter slightly as he feels Bill's hands on his face, cupping his cheeks.
Ted feels incredibly cold, but Bill’s hands are like ice on his cheeks. Ted mumbles something about Bill putting on a sweater; if Ted is cold as a perpetually hot werewolf, Bill has to be freezing. Bill's always cold, Ted thinks, it was so silly when he used to cut all his sweatshirts into crop tops. I would tell him, but he would just steal my overshirts when I would get too hot and ignore me. He grins, loopy, tears still sliding down his face, and realizes his arm doesn’t hurt anymore. Nothing really does. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, oppressive, deafening everything.
Bill shakes him suddenly, hands gripping so strong on his face, and Ted’s finally able to pry his eyelids open, feeling like there are weights attached to his eyelashes. It takes him a second to focus on Bill’s face, and when he does, the panic ticks up again, fear and worry for his friend flooding through his weak body.
Bill is absolutely covered in blood, almost his whole face and torso red with it, his neck a gory wet line as his adam's apple bobs. Ted’s eyelashes flutter, threatening to close, but Bill shakes him again, and he tries to lock his gaze on Bill’s.
The whites of Bill’s eyes are showing as he stares at Ted, fear and pain written across all the tense lines of his face, and he’s saying something, his lips moving, but Ted can’t hear him through the ringing in his ears. Ted refocuses on Bill’s mouth, wet and so red, and sees the glint of white teeth, sharp and deadly behind the sweet curl of his lips. Ted’s heart kicks in his chest, struggling with his healing factor against the blood loss, and he lets out a soft noise, body shaking once in a violent shiver.
It’s okay, Ted thinks, forcing his eyelids open just enough to look Bill in the eyes again. You didn’t mean it, it’s okay, I know you’re scared.
Bill just stares at him, cupping Ted’s face in his hands, mouth moving as he tries to get Ted to understand him. Suddenly, Bill’s head jerks up and he stares at something past the two of them, and Ted’s eyes roll back as he passes out, body finally giving up.
---
Ted wakes up in bed, sunlight streaming through the window across his covers.
He feels most non-triumphant. It’s like the combination of what every human has ever complained about: the flu, a hangover, dehydration… Basically, Ted thinks, this must be what people mean when they say ‘feels like I got run over by a truck.’ Ted has never been run over by a truck (he’s fallen off his bike before), but he can totally relate right now.
Ted slowly peels back the covers, heart-rate ticking up as he catches sight of his arm. There’s a scar, rough and strange looking on his skin, and Ted stares at it before bringing his other hand over to touch it gently. It feels weird under his fingertips, unlike anything he’s ever seen on his own body; his wolf’s healing factor keeps him from scaring, no matter how bad the injury. It’s probably the reason he’s not dead as a doornail right now.
His nose finally catches up to him, and he glances at the open door of the bedroom. He’s able to catch the sweet scent of Elizabeth, warm and comforting, and he hears her rattling around in the kitchen like she does when she’s thinking, something he’s missed a little since they’ve broken up. It calms him down a little, even through the shock and confusion he’s trying his hardest to suppress.
He drags himself out of bed, wobbling on his feet, and leans heavily on the wall when he reaches the door to the living room. There’s a large stain on the carpet by the door, but the smell of disinfectant and cleaners cuts through the undercurrent of coppery blood, and Ted realizes that he’s been out so long and so hard, that someone was able to move him to the bedroom and clean without waking him.
“Where’s Bill?” He asks, voice rough and broken from disuse, and Elizabeth shrieks a little in shock, whipping around to stare at him before rushing over. Her hands are shaking as she pets over his arms, lingering on the scar, and she ducks under his arm to support him.
“Oh, Theodore, you shouldn’t be out of bed,” She chides him, and he shrugs, resting his cheek on her hair as she directs them back to his bed. Now that she’s closer, he can smell the worry and fear threading it’s way through her scent, so alien it makes him anxious. She helps him to sit heavily and tucks him back in, petting over his hair and smoothing it off his forehead, her brow drawn up. He takes her hand and squeezes it, looking up at her.
“Liz, where's Bill?” Ted asks again, and her face is a picture of concern as she sits on the bed next to him, squeezing his hand.
“Johanna’s taken him to one of the emergency clinics,” Elizabeth responds, and her soft scent becomes even more diffused with worry. “He was… very poorly, when we found you both.”
Ted swallows around the lump in his throat, suddenly remembering how scared Bill looked as he cupped Ted’s face in his hands. “Have you heard from them?”
Elizabeth nods, petting softly over the back of his hand with her thumb. “Yes, she called a couple hours ago to tell me that they would be a little longer. You’ve been… you’ve been unconscious for a whole day, Theodore.”
“No way?”
“Yes,” She looks down, face twisting as tears come to her eyes. “We were so worried you were going to die. We had to call Missy, there’s so much about how these things are handled that… we had no idea what to do. There was… there was so much blood, Theodore.”
She brings a hand up to wipe at her eyes, and Ted struggles to sit up and put his arms around her. She turns into his hold and hugs him back, pressing her face into his shoulder as she sniffs. He grounds himself in her scent to keep the panic at bay, heart racing with his body’s need to heal and the residual fear of the other night. He looks at his arm from over Elizabeth’s shoulder, turning his wrist out so he can see the rough scar across his forearm, and thinks about Bill scared and alone in some emergency vamp clinic.
He buries his face back in Elizabeth’s shoulder and aches.
---
By the time evening rolls around, Ted is about to vibrate out of his skin, feeling mostly back to normal and so antsy he’s crawling up the walls. He'd wanted to go by early, but Elizabeth had pointed out that a werewolf might not be the most welcome at a vampire clinic, and it's not like they would be doing much but waiting, anyway. She shakes her head at him when he goes for a quick run around the parking lot, watching nervously from the balcony, still worried about his health as much as he had tried to reassure her.
Elizabeth drives them over to the clinic, Johanna having called earlier to let them know they were releasing Bill at sundown. They get caught in rush hour traffic, and it's dark by the time they get there, only the faint glow of the sun peeking over the horizon.
Bill and Johanna are already waiting outside, and Ted trips over his own feet as he leaps out of the car, stumbling as he rushes over to them. Bill doesn't react to their arrival, standing with his arms crossed as he looks at the ground. His whole demeanor is closed off, and Ted whines in the back of his throat, his wolf unsure as to why his most important pack mate isn't just as excited to see him.
Johanna shoots Elizabeth a look and takes Ted's hand when he gets close enough, squeezing it as she looks at him. "Ted, he's okay. Don't worry."
"Bill?" Ted prompts, still staring at his best friend, but Bill doesn't respond. His jaw is working and the entire line of his body is tense, crossing his arms so hard that the fabric of his flannel is pulling across his biceps, revealing how small his body actually is. Ted reaches for him, and Bill flinches away, turning his back and walking towards where Johanna's car is parked.
"William-" Johanna starts, sounding worried, and Bill shrugs his shoulder at her, continuing to walk.
"Bill," Ted's voice cracks, a residual sense of weakness returning to him, making his legs shake. "Dude, what's wrong?"
Bill huffs under his breath, finally stopping in the middle of the parking lot and turning around. He looks so upset, brows drawn up, eyes glistening, and his voice is raw when he says, "What's wrong, dude?"
Ted nods, taking a step forward, but Bill steps back again. It hurts. They stand there for a moment, tension thick in the air, before Bill just sags. He looks exhausted and so unlike himself, purple circles under his eyes and skin dull, and Ted's brain reminds him, that's because he's a vampire, now.
"I'm going to stay with Johanna and Elizabeth for a while."
Bill's words don't even register with Ted for a moment, they're so unexpected. When Ted's brain catches up, he steps forward again, and again, and pushes into Bill's space even as Bill tries to back away.
"No way, dude," Ted objects, voice raw, reaching out to grip Bill's shoulders in his hands. Bill flinches but doesn't pull away. "No way. You're coming home."
"I almost… I almost killed you, dude." Bill's voice cracks, emotional, and the three of them shush him. The princesses glance around the parking lot; if anyone was to overhear, Bill would be arrested. Non-consensual feedings are incredibly illegal.
"You didn't, though, dude," Ted says, squeezing Bill's shoulders in his hands. "You didn't. I'm alive, Bill."
Bill brings his hands up to grip Ted's arms, staring into his eyes desperately, and Ted's sleeve rides up at the push of his fingers. Bill's gaze catches on the scar he left on Ted's forearm, and he looks like he's going to be sick.
"Look what I did to you, Ted," he says, voice small and sad.
Ted's gut twists, the pain and sorrow in Bill's voice so unlike his usual cadence, and he drags his friend in for a hug. Bill makes a noise, rough and harsh, and stands stiff as a board in Ted's arms when he pushes his face into Bill's neck. He doesn't nuzzle his face into Ted's neck like he normally would, returning the wolfy gesture of affection, nor does he wrap his arms around Ted, and Ted whines again, his wolf practically chomping at the bit to get Ted to shift and scent Bill to make things feel like some semblance of normal again. Ted does the next best thing and rubs his cheek against Bill’s neck, the same way he’s always done over the years when one of them was upset, and he knows Bill recognizes it in the way he makes a small noise in the back of his throat, surprised and just a little sad.
"You were scared, dude," Ted says plaintively, trying to get Bill to see it’s okay. "You didn't know what was going on- the animal took over. I'm the last person you need to apologize to about that."
Bill doesn't respond, and they stand there for another minute, Ted holding Bill. Ted sees a bandage peeking out from under the collar of his shirt and gets a cold wash of terror through him at the thought of Bill being attacked, and he barely holds it together. He just breathes, holding Bill close, and he can hear how hard Elizabeth and Johanna's hearts are beating. He's hardly able to pick up their scents on the wind, though he can imagine the hurt and sorrow, and that’s when he realizes.
Instead of Bill's normal sunshine scent, warm and comforting and home, something undeniable and special… he's changed. There's still a little of it lingering on his clothes, a melancholy reminder, but he smells different now. If he was spice on a hot day before, now he smells like midnight during the summer, sweet and fragrant like a night blooming flower. It's so alien to Ted that when his wolf notices he almost recoils, but his forebrain doesn't let him and he squeezes Bill even tighter, forcing himself to breathe deep. It's still Bill, he thinks, in that way he does when he needs to speak to his wolf, it's still Bill, so get used to it.
Bill's hands finally come up to grip at the sides of Ted's shirt, tugging the cotton so tightly that Ted feels like he can hear the seams strain. Bill doesn't tuck his face against Ted's neck, but instead rests his head on Ted's shoulder, turning his face away, but it's something. Ted focuses on the feeling of Bill's body in his arms, whole and alive, and they stand there a moment, before Bill takes in a shaky breath, like he can read Ted's thoughts.
“I’m dead, dude."
Ted shakes his head, his hair flying, and he squeezes Bill, murmuring, “You’re not, dude, you’re right in front of me. You’re not.”
“I am,” Bill says, and Ted can feel jaw clenching against his shoulder. “My heart’s not beating, and I won’t age, and I don’t need to eat anything other than blood, dude, I’m dead.”
“You’re not. You’re here in front of me, talking to me. If you were dead-” Ted’s voice breaks and he swallows, face twisting against Bill's skin as sorrow threatens to take over him. “You’re just a different sort of animal now. Like me. You’re like me, Bill.”
They stand there in silence, when finally, Bill wraps his arms around Ted's middle to squeeze him tight, and they hold each other.
---
Elizabeth drives the two of them home while Johanna takes the other car, Ted unwilling to let Bill out of his sight for even a moment. His wolf is still trying to figure out this new Bill, who smells so different and is so uncomfortable, but Ted always believed in jumping in headfirst, and he clings to Bill in the backseat. He’s exhausted, body still healing from his blood loss and emotional fatigue, and he dozes on Bill’s shoulder, the new scent of him already becoming comforting when combined with the soft touch of Bill’s hand in his.
Elizabeth and Johanna promise to come over tomorrow, leaving them at the door. They both look exhausted, especially Johanna; she has to have been up all night and all day at the clinic with Bill, but she still presses a kiss to his cheek, taking his hand to squeeze. Elizabeth wraps her arms around Ted’s shoulders, holding him close, before kissing his cheek and waving goodbye. Ted closes the door behind them and looks at the open cardboard box, which is essentially an emergency kit for newly turned vampires- pamphlets and print outs and medical information tucked alongside a mini styrofoam cooler and an emergency sun exposure kit.
Ted swallows heavily when he takes the box in hand, thinking about how they have to seal off their bedroom so that Bill doesn’t get hurt. What if he does something wrong and Bill gets sun poisoning?
“What’s up, dude?” Bill asks softly, prying the box out of Ted’s gripping fingers. He takes the blood out of the mini-cooler with a little hesitancy, like he’s worried Ted will suddenly realize what’s been going on and book it, or that the blood is why he’s hesitating.
“I’m worried I’m gonna do something wrong,” Ted says honestly, and reaches for the rest of the blood, knowing he has to show Bill that he’s not afraid, that nothing’s changed. That’s how it’s always been between them. “We have to block off the bedroom with the kit. I don’t think we have enough stuff for the whole apartment.”
“And I don’t want you to do the whole apartment, dude,” Bill sighs, holding the fridge open for Ted. When Ted looks at him, he’s looking at Ted’s hands, where he’s holding the blood bags. “I don’t want you to change your whole life for me.”
“I’m-” Ted breaks off and gathers Bill in for another hug, unsure of what to do. He and Bill have always been a little less touchy than Ted is with his family, but Bill knows that it’s what werewolves do, and has always taken it in stride. Now, he must know how bad Ted is freaking out, with the constant touching for reassurance, but Ted can’t stop himself. “You’re my best friend, dude. I want you to be happy, and I don’t want you to get sick, Bill. I’m not changing my life for you, I’m trying to figure out how to keep you safe.”
“Ted-” Bill chokes, rubbing his hand over his face roughly. “Everything feels so different now.”
“It’ll be okay,” Ted murmurs, and thinks about when he turned for the first time, his first full moon. The fear and excitement warring with each other- and he had been raised by wolves. “I’m here, dude. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yeah,” Bill says softly, and Ted finally thinks that he’s starting to believe it.
---
Both of them figure out the kit together, ripping open the plastic and laying out all the parts. There’s heavy black sheets of fabric for light blocking, and special heavy duty tape that they have to use to attach them to the walls and window frames. Ted makes a joke about how maybe he’ll actually sleep later without the sun waking him up, and Bill actually smiles a little. Ted can see his pointy teeth, how they’re just a little sharper than they used to be, and is surprised when he doesn’t feel any fear. He feels bad, internally chastising himself for even worrying about being afraid- Bill’s never going to hurt him on purpose. That’s what matters.
There’s also instructions for how to set up a light blocking curtain on the door, so that Ted can come in and out of the bedroom without risking exposing Bill to any sunlight from the living room during the day. That’s trickier, and Ted will have to get used to waiting before barging into the room, arranging the large curtain around the doorframe after he gets under it to make sure there's no light leak. They test it out by leaving the lights in the living room on, and when Ted does his careful checks before opening the door, the bedroom is pitch black.
“I can’t even see my hand in front of my face, dude!” Ted crows, happy that they did it correctly. Bill doesn’t respond, and Ted realizes that even with his enhanced hearing, if Bill stays still, he’s as silent as the grave. Ted winces- maybe not the best simile. “You there, Bill?”
“Yeah,” Bill responds, and then Ted can hear the shifting of his clothes, rustling against the bed and his skin, and finally his breath. “Where else would I be?”
“I just couldn’t hear you,” Ted says softly, walking forward a little towards where he last heard Bill, arms outstretched. “Help me, dude, I can’t see a thing.”
Bill’s hands catch Ted’s so suddenly that it makes him jump, so quick and silent that Ted feels a jolt of adrenaline rush through him. “You can’t see? I can see you.”
“Really?”
“Not like, y’know, as well if there was a light, but yeah,” Bill says softly, and then sighs. “Sorry, I’ll turn on the lamp.”
“No, that’s most excellent, dude!” Ted grins, and hears Bill huff out a little laugh, squeezing Ted’s hands. “Have you noticed anything else new?”
“My hearing’s a little better,” Bill continues slowly. “I can hear your heartbeat, if I concentrate.”
Ted wonders if Bill can hear the way his pulse kicks up, tummy squirming; he always felt like the little noises his enhanced hearing would pick up from Bill were too intimate to talk about day to day. Bill knew that he could hear things well, like sounds in another room or his heart or his breath, but they never talked about it, knowing it would lead to awkward conversations about jerk-off habits. Ted just pretends he can’t smell the arousal and cum on Bill’s bed when he flops on it after he gets home from work after him, Bill warm and fresh from the shower.
“I can’t hear anything from you anymore,” Ted says softly, a little melancholy. “Just then you stopped breathing.”
“The babe at the clinic said that might happen sometimes,” Bill says, and Ted can hear his frown. His eyesight has started to get a little better in the dark, his body adjusting faster than a human’s would, and more strongly. If he sits in the dark for five minutes he can usually see faint shapes- he and Bill tested it when they were kids, giggling under piles of blankets.
“But you’re breathing now,” Ted points out, and shakes his hand loose of Bill’s to put his hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall. It’s still so strange to feel him so cold, and to not feel his heartbeat.
“Yeah, it’s kind of like muscle memory, you know?” Bill explains, and Ted nods. “And I need to breathe to speak.”
“Yeah,” Ted agrees, and then yawns so wide his jaw cracks, his exhaustion from healing and the long day of waiting and anxiety catching up with him. They both giggle, and Ted squeezes Bill’s hands gently.
“Let me get the light, dude,” Bill says softly, and Ted’s left standing alone in the dark until he’s dazzled by their bedside lamp clicking on. Bill laughs at the way Ted blinks owlishly and shakes his head. “You gotta sleep, dude. Jo told me how- messed up you were. You probably still need to rest.”
“I feel way better than when I woke up,” Ted argues, but still goes easily when Bill nudges him towards the door, putting his hands lightly on Ted’s hips. “But you’re right, dude. You should rest, too.”
“Yeah,” Bill agrees, voice soft. It’s not like Bill to hide stuff from Ted, but he knows that it’s been a rough couple of days for the both of them. Bill will talk to him when he’s ready.
They both get ready for bed, changing into their sleep clothes and curling under the covers, facing towards each other. Ted reaches out between the gap and waits until Bill reaches across to meet him, both of them making a little air-guitar noise as they wiggle their fingers together.
“G’night, dude,” Ted slurs, already slipping off to sleep. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
“Yeah,” Bill says again, so soft, and turns off the lamp.