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Wilbur had never really hated vampires, not as a species at least. The ones he hated were the monstrous ones, the ones who had lost their ability to sympathize, the smart ones who chose to do bad things, to kill and maim, to feast. The ones who took more than their fair share and left a trail of bodies in their wake, from lowly criminals to loving parents who’d never return home to their babies ever again.
He’d landed a well paying job with the hunter association, he’d tidy up the streets of ghouls - the lowest ranked vampires - and maybe he allowed the occasional new blood or full vampire go - though no proof of that exists on record so whos to say.
Which is why he couldn’t help but be startled when a young looking vampire approached him, Wilbur had seen new bloods before, they were skittish and clumsy but they weren’t children. Vampires had rules about who could be turned, that included no children. Someone had broken that rule. Fuck, the kid couldn’t have even been much older than Fifteen if that.
“Kid-” he called, startling the poor thing. The vampire was jumpy, not in the way a new blood was, in the way Wilbur had seen ghouls act. “Are you-”
“I need your help.” the little vampire demanded, taking a hesitant step closer. Wilbur hummed encouragement for the kid to continue, if it was revenge against the vampire than turned him Wilbur would be happy to deliver.
“I want you to kill me.” The kid said, the air hung still, a tense silence between the two as the young vampire scrunched up his face and forced his body stiff as if Wilbur would actually kill a child.
Wilbur sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, “Sorry kid, I can’t help you. I’m no hunter.” Wilbur shrugged. He felt slightly bad lying to the kid, he clearly needed help, needed someone. He could be centuries old for all Wilbur knew but all he could see was a miserable child cursed to eternal torment.
The vampire flinched at Wilbur's words. His hands shook as he mustered up a bitter glare to direct towards Wilbur. “You’re lying! I’ve seen you. You kill the ones who are consumed by bloodlust.” the kid argued, baring in fangs in what Wilbur assumed was an attempt to show himself as something more threatening. “You kill the ones who kill humans! The ones who are dangerous.”
He supposed the kid wasn’t wrong; he did hunt the dangerous vampires. Keyword: dangerous. Though the youngling was a vampire - turned too young so he’d never get the ability to properly mature physically or mentally - which made him inherently dangerous. This was still a child, and as far as Wilbur was concerned he knew better than most than not everything worthy of being cautious of bites.
Wilbur sighed gently and cracked a wry smile, “My first stalker. Should I be honored?” He asked, keeping his tone soft and friendly.
The kid's mouth dropped open in shock as he frantically went about defending himself, “Hey! I’m not-”
“You just told me you’ve been following me around, that's stalking.” Wilbut cut him off, a taunting smirk on his face.
“Wha- I was not! I was gathering intel.”
“That's a big word for a kid like you,” Wilbur teased.
A flush of red dusted the younglings face, “I’m not a kid!” he protested, puffing up his cheeks which didn’t help him appear any less childlike. “Bitch!” he tacked on, almost as an afterthought.
“Look, I’m not even a hunter, so why don’t you-”
The vampire hissed in annoyance, “Liar! I’ve seen you kill other vampires, so why can’t you kill me?” He pleaded.
“Unless you’ve killed someone I won't even consider it.” Wilbur told the vampire.
A tense silence followed the statement, Wilbur doubted the kid had the ability to even think about killing a human let alone actually go through with it.
“I hurt someone… my friend. Really badly.” The boy admitted, his eyes pointed at the ground as he wrung his hands together.
Wilbur frowned, “Is your friend still alive?” He asked despite already knowing the answer.
“Yes, but-”
“Then I have no reason to kill you, sorry.” Wilbur shrugged, turning his back on the little vampire.
“Stop! I thought your job was to keep humans safe from things like me!” The kid cried.
Wilburs shoulders tensed as he turned to face the vampire again, a desperate look in the kids face, his eyes pleading with Wilbur despite the kids obvious fear in the way his hands trembled and his eyes constricted, “Look,” Wilbur sighed, reaching for his pistol, his heart breaking a little at the way the kid not only jumped but smiled at his movement, “I’m not helping someone kill themself because they think they’ve done something reprehensible. Anyway if you really wanted to die that bad you wouldn’t go through all this trouble.” The kid's smile dropped at Wilbur's words, “Because, you don’t really want to die,” he continued.
“No, I-”
He didn’t let the vampire finish his sentence, “You just want someone to tell you you’re the monster you think you are.” Wilbur stated, holding out his gun to the vampire, offering the vampire's way out if he chose it - though Wilbur was confident the boy had no intention of pulling the trigger himself.
The vampire took a step back, just as Wilbur assumed he would, “What are you…?”
“If you want to die so badly then do it yourself,” Wilbur told him, pushing the gun into the kid's hands.
“You can’t just hand me your-” The vampire began only to be hushed by Wilbur like a child as he took a step back watching what the blonde would choose to do now that he had his means of escape in his own hands. “Fuck you.” he finally spat after staring at the pistol for several unblinking seconds. He shoved the gun back into Wilburs hands, tears brimming in his eyes.
Wilbur smiled softly, re-holstering his gun, “What's your name, gremlin?” He asked softly like he would to the younger hunter recruits back when he affiliated with the association.
“Thes-” the kid chewed on his lip, tiny fangs poking at his lip, threatening to split it open, “Tommy. It’s Tommy.”
“Nice to meet you Tommy, I’m Wilbur.” Wilbur introduced, ruffling Tommy’s hair, earning a hiss.
“Shit name.” Tommy grumbled.
“I didn’t choose it.”
“Doesn’t matter. Still shit.”
Wilbur shrugged his shoulders in defeat, “So… where will you go from here? Back to your friend?”
“I can’t face him. He probably hates me.” Tommy muttered.
Something in Wilburs head doubted that, he didn’t know Tommy's friend - probably never would - but somehow he just knew, Tommy's friend didn’t hate him, wouldn’t even be capable of hating him.
“Well, if you have nothing better to do I’ve been looking for some company, someone to have my back, y’know?” Wilbur offered
Tommy blinked owlishly up at the hunter, another round of tears brimming in his eyes, “You want… me to… stick around?” He asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
“Well, it’ll save you from asking someone else to put a bullet in your head, and it’ll do you good to see a real monster before you start calling yourself one,” Wilbur said, despite even the idea of Tommy coming face to face with a real monstrous vampire made him feel ill.
The kid narrowed his eyes, skeptical and distrusting, “What if I hurt you…” he asked quietly.
Wilbur chuckled softly, tugging down his shirt collar to show off the ugly scars he’d gained from ghouls and vampires alike, “What's one more scar?” He shrugged.
Tommys eyes widened, fear and concern shining in his eyes, “Those are really bad…”
“Nah, bad ones would end in death.” Wilbur corrected, “Anyway, didn't you say you hurt your friend?”
“I didn’t fucking tear into him though.” Tommy snapped, horrified that Wilbur would even assume the kid would do damage like that. Wilbur couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips.
“Then… how did you hurt him?”
“He told me he refused to watch me starve myself… so he…” Tommy shook his head, tears almost overflowing down his cheeks as he spoke, “I took too much and he got really sick.”
“He got better though!” Tommy quickly amended, “But I couldn’t stick around after that, I didn’t wanna hurt him again… it was scary seeing him that sick.” Wilbur had wondered if Tommy was any older than he looked, even if only by a year, but the boy's fears settled in Wilburs mind; he really wasn’t any older than he appeared. It made Wilbur feel ill at the thought, children shouldn’t be turned, it was the only thing the association and vampires agreed on. There were expectations to vampires of course but considering how young as Tommy was Wilbur would be hard-pressed to come up with a theory other than the vampire who turned the kid abandoned him which would mean it was a turning out of necessity rather it was one out of cruelty.
Wilbur grit his teeth “Can I hug you Tommy?” he asked gently, spreading his arms a little as an offering.
Tears once again were spilling down Tommys cheeks, the boys shoulders shook as sobs tore free from his chest, he nodded, pressing himself into the hunters hold, “I don’t wanna be a monster,” he sobbed.
“You’re not. I promise you're not,” Wilbur assured. “You made a mistake, that’s all.”
“I hurt him.” Tommy continued to sob, “He could have died because of me.”
“But he didn’t,” Wilbur reminded him softly. “He’s okay. You’ll be okay.” he vowed.
The boy nuzzled into Wilbur, almost as if trying to meld himself into Wilburs form, “How do you know?” He mumbled into the brunettes sweater.
“Because you have me now, I’ll help you.” he promised, he’d have a lot to explain when he got home, but for now his only thought was to comfort the young vampire in his arms.