Chapter Text
Bradley Colbert, a war veteran and a ladies man, returned from his last deployment, got into a bar fight with overwhelming force and died of inflicted injuries at the age of 28. He had been mourned and forever remembered by his comrades and family.
It happened almost two centuries ago and still, Brad wondered how he got himself so deep into this shit.
When Sergeant Brad Colbert came back from 1812 USA-British war, he found his family house cold and desolated- his bitch of a fiancée took off with a guy who promised her eternal life and youth in exchange for her blood. What she clearly didn’t expect, with all her romantic ambitions and all, that the guy had at least five other whores stock piled in his slut house, and instead of being a mistress the one and only, she became a part of a big happy harem. As miss Wednesday. Or Thursday, not that it matters.
Anyway, when Brad finished putting together smithereens of what’s left of his broken heart, he hunted the lovebirds down and killed the guy because vampire or not, you don’t fucking lay your hands on something that belongs to Brad ‘Iceman’ Colbert and live happily ever after.
He didn’t hurt his ex though, because being raised as a gentleman, he doesn’t hurt women, children, or anyone else considered defenseless. It’s just unworthy of his warrior spirit.
So, his dearest girlfriend was left in peace to enjoy her eternal life and suffer from non-existent consciousness. She died the following spring, when an angry mob set her on fire allegedly for witchcraft.
He didn’t live to see the spectacle though since he was killed a day after their last farewell in a stupid bar fight. When he woke up in a coffin, all vampirised and completely disoriented, he concluded that he should have stayed in the Corps in the first place, because at some point the shit pouring on his civilian head by far exceeded the e amount acceptable even for a US marine.
It later turned out that the bartender in a saloon where Brad met his death hour was a closeted vampire that in his upsurge of greediness decided to feed on the fallen soldier, but was not careful and infected the body with V- virus. You see, the vampirism is like gonorrhea- one careless movement in a haze of pleasure and you’re facing a whole list of unwanted consequences.
The bartender was nice enough to teach a newly turned Brad some of his infinite wisdom before kicking him out into the afterlife : some of the rules proved to be useful and veracious, some of the rules were to be bent and forgotten in the years to come.
When Brad finished his vampiric training, he left his city and got busy with gore stuff, like disposing of criminals. He managed to make quite a reputation for that one.
And then he got bored.
The mind can play a cruel joke with you sometimes.
And so, Brad found himself enlisted in military again. The easiest way to fight off the loneliness is to be bereft of any imaginable privacy among the crowd of US Marines.
The easiest and, more importantly, legitimate way to get access to killing people is to become a machine of skirmish legalized by US government. Not only you get to quench your thirst for blood, you also get praised and paid to do so.
After all, Brad chose a hunting nomad’s austere life over the solitude of a dead nobleman.
It seemed only logical.
Yes, you could definitely write a novel about his philosophical explorations, make a name, become a millionaire and even self-produce a cheesy movie for teenagers.
Brad shivered off last thought, stopped contemplating and came back to reality . His team’s humvee, one of many, was stuck in the middle of nowhere in the smelliest armpit of the world. The platoon left Baghdad two days ago and now was waiting for the shining moment when idiots form up above would finally decide what shithole they have to uncloak next.
The camp was quiet. In the driver’s seat Ray was dry humping somebody in his sleep. Trombley was petting his weapon, murmuring pleasantries and compliments under his breath, psycho. Walt was hanging out somewhere outside, probably counting stars in the sky.
Rule one: Vampires don’t make friends with humans.
It was based on the assumption that if you, being a vampire, let a human close enough, he will sooner or later realize that you are not so much alive after all. And of course, he will be terrified to death and will tell his buddies and you’ll end up overwhelmed by the sea of pitchforks and torches.
The rule worked well in Middle Ages, when people were so stuck up on religion that meat on Friday was a deadly sin and a burp after lunch was considered a sigh of perdition.
The problem with this rule is that when you’re blessed with eternity you end up being lonely and miserable, and mounting up the number of drunken confessions or fuck buddies doesn’t really help the situation. So, you’re left with a choice – either suffer your afterlife alone, afraid of everything more then the casual interaction, or get your shit together, find yourself a BFF and simply make sure you don’t get caught.
Easy enough and works well if you’re cautious all the time. Plus today’s generation won’t even be scared if they were to learn about your vampiric self. You’ll probably be buried under fan girls’ underwear, accompanied by the chorus of squeals asking to show how you sparkle.
Brad spitted in disgust and shifted his attention to inside of the Humvee, where Ray was going on and on about pussies and beef jerckeys and gladiators and some other shit that, as always, didn’t make any sense.
Yep, that was his current BFF. Not that Brad would ever confess that to anyone- it would sound so gay…
But he would look after the pot-cracking idiot and make sure he stayed safe from hostiles and from his own shit brainery. (The coffee maker incident doesn’t count- Brad totally saw it coming but decided not to interfere- it would have made him a freaking mother-hen for Ray – and he had a manly reputation to maintain).
“Will you sing a lullaby for me?”
Brad snapped out of his thought, frowned and peered into two dark eyes focused on his forehead.
“What?”
“Serge, can I shoot him?” Trombley sounded off from behind.
Like a big dysfunctional family.
Ray stuck out his lower lip and made puppy eyes.
“Please, daddy! I can’t sleep on empty stomach and mommy isn’t home and…”
Speaking of.
“Gentlemen, good news- Lt. Nathaniel Fick popped up in front of the Humvee in his usual Batman manner; - we’ve got replenishment of meal supplies. Nothing special, but you might be interested after a week on Skittles and peanut butter.”
The green eyes turned to Brad and Iceman cast his LT a questioning look.
“LT, sir, you’re my superhero! – Ray bounced on the seat in excitement. - But how did you manage that? Not to be distrustful about your supernatural abilities, but how in hell did you shake up those fuckers in the Circus Battalion?”
“I used my inexhaustible charm.” The LT shot a blinding smile at Ray and took off.
Somewhere deep inside Brad’s brain wondered that may be, that smile was really all it took.
Rule two: Vampires don’t fall in love.
You see, vampires are very similar to Vulcans (and yes, Brad was once a Trekkie- it seemed very cool at the time). When you transform, you purge your human, emotional side, and turn into a cold-blooded machine that operates strictly on logic. You become much stronger, much faster then normal human, and you cease to feel anything that cannot be rationalized by what’s left functional of your brain. Love included. The only thing you don’t get is pointed ears, but that’s a minor detail.
So, when Brad first sees his new CO, Lt. Nathaniel Fick, he doesn’t feel love. Curiosity, want, need – but not love. Like a geek with a new computer- not love, just inexorable want to explore something new.
He itches to snatch the LT from everyone, crowd him in some dark and intimate place, take him apart like a puzzle, learn all his secrets, brake him and leave him behind like an unwanted toy.
And when those bottomless green eyes meet his own, it’s definitely not love that makes him reconsider his plans. It’s not. It’s a totally logical choice of a gentleman who acknowledges his respect for another being.
Brad blames all on Nate’s eyes.
Those unbelievably beautiful eyes that make Fick look like a cherub among the dirty bleating herd of God’s sheep. Not in a sense of an overweight toddler with wings, of course, Nate is nothing like that- all lean and graceful and strong and deadly- Brad can figure that much with his vampiric senses even with Nate’s clothes on- but in a sense of something pure and innocent being thrown into the dirt.
To molest that altar boy full of idealistic dreams and hopes would simply be a blasphemy.
So, when Brad sets off onto a holy mission of protecting Nate’s purity, it is dictated solely by a logical choice. Brad is assured of this.
The next morning Brad saw Nate walking briskly from the Commander vehicle, flanked by always-so-loyal Mike Wynn.
The Lt looked distressed, betrayed and completely lost, like a puppy that’s been kicked hard by his owner. Encino Man’s dirty work, no doubt.
When Wynn reassuringly tapped Lt on his shoulder, Brad gritted his teeth. The initiated touch bared nothing intimate, it’s just Wynn playing mother hen to his lieutenant, soothing and cooing him into something at least resembling peaceful state of mind, but Brad clenched his fists when a strange feeling shot through him like a burst of flame.
It’s not jealousy, simply couldn’t be, since it required love in the first place and vampires don’t feel love, remember?
So, Brad settled with possessiveness. He has claimed Fick for himself the very moment they first met, and he likes this self proclaimed ownership, he likes his green eyed cherub only for himself, thank you very much. And when Iceman likes something, he doesn’t share.
Plus, Wynn’s way of dealing with Lt’s stress leaves much to be desired.
It is completely opposite of what Brad would have done to protect his Nate- play bottom and passively ass-lick the superiors and only later, privately, try to comfort your friend, who like a freaking superhero tried to battle the overwhelming stupidity of command to protect his own men from getting fucked up –that’s not a way for a marine to roll.
Not Brad’s way. He would not stand for this shit; he would probably just bite a couple heads off.
Good idea.
Brad’s eyes darted across the camp, scanning the field for Encino Man.
With one swift motion, undetectable for human eye, he bolted over the ground and cornered captain between the humvees, away from possible witnesses for said witnesses’ sake.
Captain startled in surprise
"Colbert?"
"You should stop doing that."
"What?"
Brad cocked his eyebrow. "Fucking with my Lt."
"Wha…" Encino man frowned, slowly processing, then gaped. " Mind your place, sergeant. Whatever happens between me and your LT is not your business…"
Brad tsk-ed and cut the distance between him and captain so they were face to face mere inches apart.
"I think you do not understand." Brad grinned, showing off a glimpse of his prolonged canines, and letting his pupils dilate, giving away his vampiric essence.
"Unholster your gun."
Captain’s eyes stared at him in shock while his right hand reached out for the gun.
"Now, put it in your mouth."
Captain obliged, trembling in terror, eyes glistening with tears.
Brad’s grin widened.
" Deeper."
Iceman watched with grim satisfaction as Schwetje fucked his dirty captain’s mouth with his own fire weapon, gagging on it when he pushed it inside up to its hilt.
Brad titled his head a little.
"See how easy it is? You fuck with Nate one more time on any fucking reason, and I’ll make you castrate yourself with a Ka-Bar and eat whatever piece of shit you’re proudly calling your dick. Am I making myself clear?"
Captain nodded quickly, shivering and squeaking.
The stench of urine filled the air, and Brad wriggled his nose in disgust.
" Get lost."
Compelling is one of the v-features Brad liked the most. It made possible to bend and fuck anyone literally and figuratively speaking without them even knowing what’s going on. Like NLP, but 100% accurate and life-long effective. Plus, you never get blamed for it since the victim doesn’t remember the very act of compelling, only the aftermath.
When in the afternoon meeting Captain suddenly started to not only listen to the Lt, but concede to him on every point made with no apparent reason, leaving all the men startled and the Lt shocked beyond belief, Brad felt very satisfied with himself.