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My father said to me, "I've got you."

Summary:

Abolish bled. Abolish had been bleeding. He would be bleeding more.
… Abolish wanted safety. Boys who fought alone did not find safety.

Febuwhump Day 16: Eaten Alive

Notes:

BAM!!! Part two right in your face.

Again, I'm taking a creative liberty with this prompt. He isn't being eaten alive in the literal sense, but in the context of vampires... yeah, he isn't doing well.

Please mind the tags!! There is quite a bit of visceral imagery <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Abolish woke in complete darkness. He felt his heart jump in his chest, quickly speeding up as he caught his breath, forcing it to even out as he slowly came to his senses. The air was damp and cold—a cave, then—and there was a distinctly stale taste to it, as if the circulation to this section of the cave was cut off, leaving it to stagnate on the microorganisms present there. He flicked his tongue out and tasted dried blood on the corner of his lip, followed by a sharp sting as the split skin was reopened.

His next observation—or rather, lack of one—was the thick cloth he could feel wrapping around his eyes, sealing him in darkness. It went around his head, muffling his ears and reducing the echoes of the cave to faint, dulled noises. He clenched his jaw as he rolled from his stomach to his side, testing the ropes he could feel securely tied around his wrists, binding his arms behind his back.

A cool breeze swished through the cavern, bringing with it an onslaught of fresh air. He suppressed a shiver as he twisted to face the direction of the wind, noting that he lacked his suit jacket. He hissed under his breath as he realised that he'd been stripped of his gear, leaving him helpless in whatever cavern he'd been left in. Abolish ground his teeth out of frustration. He hated the unfamiliarity and the chills beginning to creep down his back, tracing thin, ice-cold tracks along his skin beside his spine.

A second gust of wind swept into the cavern, stirring the air further. It was nearly silent, save for the barely perceptible rustle of fabric he could hear outside of the cloth covering his ears. Clearly, whatever had brought him here knew he was awake. There would be no harm in trying to prepare himself in advance. He licked the blood off his lips as he brought his knees toward his chest to protect his abdomen. A small voice in the back of his mind ached for warmth and comfort. He crushed it with barely a thought, suppressing another shiver that threatened to wrack through his body.

Dull, aching pain began to pulse on the back of his head as he pushed his senses outward, trying to hear what little he could. He blinked several times, trying to shift the blindfold off his face. Whoever had put it there had done it well, he noted with a grimace, feeling the knot on the back of his head pull on his hair. The dull ache began to swell into persistent, deep throbbing, pulsing through his skull from a single point on the back of his head, just behind his left ear. He bit the inside of his cheek firmly, trying to move some of the pain away from the radiating throbbing. Now that he was aware, he could feel the cold stickiness of half-dried blood coating the back of his neck, running a thin pathway down into his shirt, a cold spot of liquid and stiff fabric nested behind his shoulder.

He clenched his fists and pulled at the ropes around his wrists, feeling the barely perceptible shift in the fibres as he tried to pull them apart. They cut and dug into his skin, rubbing painfully around the tendons under his wrists as they tensed and relaxed, trying to find the weak point in the knots. He huffed when he failed, letting his hands fall slack before tensing and jerking them apart again, hissing with pain when he felt his skin tear. He relaxed again, thinking, and felt the drop of blood drip from his wrist and slide into his hand, cradled there by the creases in his palm. There was a way out of the ropes, but it was occluded by the thumping in his skull.

"You're awake."

The words cut through the silence like a knife, cold and looming above his head. Abolish stilled, trying to lock onto the voice in the dead silence of the cave. His head pounded relentlessly, a cacophony of blood rushing through his veins in time with his heart. The organ beat loud in his ears, a quick, steady thudding that pushed the blood through his body in waves. He tightened his body, locking another shiver in place as he tried to think through the voices he knew to place who the other person was. He remained where he was on his side, pushing through his memory as he fought the slippery thoughts that fumbled through his head.

The silence stretched. Finally: “Took you long enough.” The voice was sharp and full of disdain, a deeper tenor that was laden with sarcasm. A set of footsteps moved closer, then stopped, frozen in place and waiting for a reaction. Abolish pressed his lips together tightly, resisting the urge to snap back. His brain sluggishly suggested retorts and snarky comebacks and he stamped them out, focusing his efforts on one thing: staying impassive and silent.

The other person clicked their tongue, another step ringing in the hollow cavern, then a hand was in his hair and Abolish felt himself being yanked upwards. Misty breath, cold as death, ghosted across his face as they dragged him to his knees, saying, “Ahh, that's no way to greet a friend! You're very lucky to be here.”

Abolish scowled, sorting through his options. His heart thrummed as he elected to stay silent, forcing his breath to be even and unlaboured as he waited for the throbbing in his head to subside. It refused, instead increasing as his heart did into a rapid pulse, radiating outward from the spot. His head spun, creating a dizzying spiral that made his stomach lurch as he inhaled sharply and folded, kept in place by the hand twisted into his hair. He felt weak and he hated it, forced to be at the mercy of the vampire holding him captive.

“Not so scary now,” the vampire murmured. Abolish could tell it was Owen now, his voice finally clicking into place in his mind. The hair on the back of his neck raised as he comprehended the danger, staying resolutely mute as he flexed his fingers, feeling the numb motions as he twisted his hands, rubbing his wrists raw on the rough rope cutting into his flesh.

Owen chuckled, and his breath came to hover by Abolish's ear, the chilling cold huffing past his flesh and wicking off the thin layer of sweat on his skin, carrying a faint metallic and rotten scent. “You're not here because I like you,” he whispered, his opposite hand coming up to grab his chin, a rough, scarred grasp that ended in claws that tapped into and pierced his skin. “I want it abundantly clear that I do not like you.”

Abolish snorted, moving his tongue against his teeth to test it before he spoke. “So what?” he asked, cringing at the rasp that tore through his throat. “You're gonna turn me? Get me on your side?”

He hissed when Owen twisted his neck to the side, causing it to pop. The motion sent a fresh wave of pain through his skull and he flinched, breathing sharply through his teeth as he adjusted, twisting his body and allowing it to follow the motion Owen dragged him through. His chin was twisted upwards as he was shoved against a wall, his left cheek pressed to the cold, sharp rocks as his neck was exposed, the muscle connecting his jaw to his collar bone stretching painfully from how stiff it'd gotten in the coldness of the cave. He gasped when a knee rammed into his stomach, leaving him heaving for air as his mind scrambled for words.

Owen beat him to it, his voice a guttural snarl as he spoke. “No,” he growled, “I'm here to kill you. You know what you did to us, right? We're–” he broke off into sharp pants before continuing– “We're starving, Abolish. Do you know how that is? To be so hungry you feel like you're dying?”

Abolish denied him a response, instead latching onto the most recent of the spells he'd learned, recalling the flaky coat of blood that soaked into the yellowed pages. He swallowed tightly, shoving the words to the front of his mind as he prepared to speak them, pushing past the throbbing discomfort. A warm trickle of blood dripped down his neck, the clot on the wound disturbed by the abrupt movement. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he spoke, forcing the Latin to form coherent words despite the foggy pounding that stabbed through his skull.

Hoc vinculum tibi dirumpo, mala creatura, Owen,” he spat, feeling the power in the words as they left his mouth. They garnered no reaction, the hand twisted in his hair staying firmly rooted in the greasy strands. He pushed against Owen's hands, a fruitless endeavour that left him heaving for breath.

Owen growled, a half-yell, half-snarl directly into Abolish's ear. “You can't kill me,” he hissed, a slightly breathless, pained note behind his words. Abolish locked onto it, knowing the spell had an effect, just not the ingredients to perform and drag Owen back to the light. “You don't have the means,” he continued, his breath ghosting against the base of his jaw.

"Worth a shot," Abolish snapped back. "Maybe it'll—maybe it'll kill you slowly instead." That wouldn't be the case, he knew—the cantrip specified an instant, abrupt breakage—but he could hope that Owen didn't speak or read Latin, wholly reliant on the sickly feeling the words must have invoked.

“Listen to me,” Owen invited, and the cold of the room and his words finally got to Abolish, sending a full-body shiver through his torso into his limbs. Owen barked a laugh, then hissed, “You're scared, Abolish. Don't pretend I can't hear your heart in your chest, beating a million miles per hour. You know what you did. You know we're starving.”

The vampire disentangled his hand from Abolish's hair, tapping a claw down the hunter’s jugular, tracing the vein down the side of his neck. Abolish swallowed tightly, clenching his jaw as he tried to move his head so the blindfold would be rubbed off. The hand on his chin shifted to be placed more over his jaw, pressing his face firmly into the rock, as Owen’s arm jammed into his chest and shoulders, pinning him back.

"It's time to die," Owen hissed, "and you'll feed us in the process."

Abolish struggled, trying to bring his feet in front of him so he could kick Owen's ankle or leg to unbalance him, giving him time to get away. Not that he knew which way to go, or how to run—given the dizzying pain in his head—but there was a slight current of cold air blowing in from the right, away from the direction he was facing.

Owen's fangs found his flesh before he could move further, having managed to get one foot in front of his body in a weak attempt to escape, and pierced into the right side of his neck. He gave a strangled cry as they sank deeper, Owen's lower jaw locking around his trachea and cutting off part of his airway. There was a slight moment of resistance, then one fang punctured his jugular, the same one Owen's claw had traced moments before. It was a grim realisation, knowing the vampire had chosen his site carefully by feeling for the vein. At the top of his neck, right beneath the joint of his jaw, his carotid pumped, the muscles of the artery squeezing more blood toward his brain as his heart jumped in tempo.

A burst of blood flowed from the vein, caught by Owen as he withdrew slightly to let the liquid flow out, biting down on his skin to tear through it further. He could feel the wound hanging open as blood spilled out, a warm and messy cascade. It was hot compared to the vampire clamped around his throat and forcing his head to the side, still pressing his face and back against the wall. Owen adjusted, his mouth forming a tight seal around the open, flowing wounds. Reflexively, Abolish pulled away, jerking his shoulders in an attempt to throw the vampire off and trying to stand up, out of his grip. His actions failed, earning a tighter bite as the vampire shifted, the back serrated edge of his fangs slicing into his skin.

Abolish shouted again, eyes shut tight as he heaved for air, resisting the urge to lash out. Slowly, steadily, Owen began to drink, drawing up a mouthful of blood and swallowing it, an animalistic growl deep in his throat as he solved his starvation. Abolish groaned as his head spun, hard: a dizzying dip and sense of vertigo that left his stomach far behind. Nausea swept across his senses with a fresh wave of pain from the bite, pulsing with the rapid, fluttering pace of his heart. He felt faint and far away, yanked back to reality when Owen drew away, leaving the blood to flow in a thick wave down the side of his neck.

It soaked into his shirt, rapidly saturating the fabric and beginning to flow down his side. Owen's arm left his chest and he lurched forward, suddenly forced to support his own weight apart from the hand keeping his head in place. Stabbing pain emanated from the wounds, jolting through his neck as his movement stretched them, causing them to tear further. He could hear nothing but the rushing of blood in his ears, frantic whooshing that flowed through his head and poured out of the wounds. He could feel the widening reservoir spreading across his shirt, causing the warm, wet fabric to stick to his skin uncomfortably.

His hands were cold and he could barely move his fingers. Impulsively, he jerked his shoulders again, trying to pull his head away from Owen's hand. The vampire refused to budge, claws digging into his skin, now significantly warmer than before. His head spun and dipped, giving him a brief floating sensation before burning pain in his neck brought him back to reality as something was shoved into the wound, going deep into his flesh.

He felt his mouth open, but he couldn't tell if he screamed through the thick blindfold and the blood rushing and pumping through his veins. He could feel his heart palpitating, a violent bumping in his chest that surged against his ribcage, thudding and pounding in his chest. It was fast, too fast, each beat sending a sharp stabbing pain through his skull and neck. The darkness spun as cold glass was pressed against his neck. He was powerless to resist it, his knees and legs weak.

Acute pain surged as blood continued to pour down his front, the wounds open and jagged, tearing as his head and neck remained stretched out, vessels exposed. The object against his neck pressed deeper and he screamed with pain, writhing against his restraints and weakness. He watched stars and shadows scroll past, enveloped in darkness, as his body turned cold, pain oscillating between sharp and dull throbbing, pounding through his head and neck.

The pressure against his head disappeared abruptly, leaving him without support. He crumpled forward, dizzy and faint as he hit the ground, bashing his forehead against the cold, sharp rock. Glass shattered on the rock beside him, a high, crystalline scattering of shards. The warmth of his blood changed trajectory as he lay on his stomach, unable to move. It continued to run down his neck, flowing toward his chin and dripping down his jaw. A violent shiver wracked his body, the sharp pain spreading as his consciousness dulled. The bite throbbed angrily, the foreign object pressing against the raw edges, moving in his deep tissue.

Abolish heard and felt his scream tear through his windpipe as sudden pressure erupted on his neck, tightly pressing down on the flowing bite. His throat hurt after as he panted, trying to move away but finding himself unable to, his body refusing to respond. His muscles tightened instead as he was turned onto his back, forced to lay on his bound hands. The intrusive object in his neck—a siphon, maybe—was removed and the pressure renewed, a soft cloth being forced into his flesh. He felt his skin stretch around the cloth, the warmth of his blood fading as it flowed away, the fresh flow stopped by the packing.

Fatigue swept through his body as the blindfold loosened, then fell away, allowing him to crack open his eyes. He squinted through the flickering blurry torchlight, every line and colour melding together into a blend of incomprehensible shapes. A figure leaned over him, a roughly humanoid blob of grey and white. Something small, hard, and tasteless was put in his mouth as he forced himself to listen, a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

The voice was soft and muffled. Roughly, he made out the words "chew" and "eat" as his vision cleared, then blurred again, allowing him to briefly make out Legundo's face before everything fell back into flickering shadows lit by the warm glow of an unseen torch. He choked and coughed around the object, his jaw refusing to move as he struggled to obey. A pair of fingers entered his mouth and swept it out, and Abolish gagged, his throat bobbing and lurching. The pressure shifted, then moved back into place. His back arched weakly, his hands pushing against the floor he could barely feel.

An arm came under his shoulders and lifted him briefly before settling his torso against a soft, raised surface. He fell into it, head tipping to the side as he blinked sluggishly, darkness creeping in on the edge of his vision. Gently, a hand tipped his head back up, opening his mouth in a smooth, soft motion. Barely a second later, a paste was smeared into his mouth, followed by the familiar bitter taste of garlic. His eyes slipped closed as he forced his tongue to move, aided by the same hand rubbing his throat gently, and swallowed the paste, the sharp substance being dragged down his throat.

He gasped, breathing heavily through his mouth as pounding renewed in his head, a rapid tempo that swelled to an unshakable headache. He pinched his brows together, part of the pressure on the side of his neck abating. A hand settled on his cheek, a rough thumb brushing over the bone. He tipped his head into it, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the patterns in the person's palm right in front of his face. He was dizzy and foggy, every line and colour fuzzy as darkness crept into his vision and swept him under.


Cold cloth touched his lips, a steady stream of drops flowing from it onto his skin, with a few of them dripping into his mouth. Another warm cloth was removed from his forehead, swiftly replaced by a cool one, melding into the sweat he could feel dripping down his temples. A gentle hand slowly repositioned his jaw, opening his mouth so more drops of the chilly water could grace his throat. It felt raw and dry, relieved by the cold tracks of liquid that slowly ran down. Reflexively, he swallowed, flicking out his tongue to wet his lips. They were chapped but otherwise whole, dry skin rubbing together as he opened his mouth independently, waiting for more water.

Dull throbbing radiated from the back of his head, as well as an aching pain in his neck. He could feel bandages encircling it as more of his senses came back in exhausted waves, each one feeling like it was being dredged up from the depths of an eternal abyss. He was laying against something soft, his hands free, although his right arm felt like it was pinned to his body. A thick blanket was tucked up under his chin, keeping his warmth close to his body. He felt uncomfortably hot, a sweaty stickiness coating his skin.

His hearing came back, a constant, muffled buzz that felt like it was stabbing into his head. He furrowed his brow in a grimace as it brought with it a fresh wave of pain, this time a soreness that swept through his trunk and limbs. A pattern of tones added to the buzzing, muffled and incomprehensible. He strained to push past the ambient noise, locking onto the abnormal sounds and trying to listen to them.

Finally, he discerned words, muffled patterns of sounds he couldn't make out, but ones that persisted nonetheless with short pauses, presumably waiting for a response. His thoughts wavered, starting to slip away as he fought to focus. The water hadn't returned, so he moved his mouth and tongue, each movement and signal an ache that sapped at his efforts.

The muffled murmurings ceased as an arm worked its way beneath his covers and back, pulling him more upright. The bed dipped as someone got in beside him, slowly leaning his body against theirs so he was in a half-seated position, kept in place by an arm wrapped securely around his middle. A cold glass touched his lips and slowly tipped, letting a slow trickle of water enter his mouth. He swallowed hastily, wincing at the twinge of pain in his neck. He took another small mouthful, moving his throat slower to avoid aggravating the sharp pins and needles that were beginning to prickle in his neck.

Too soon, the glass was removed, a soft bump cutting through the buzzing in his ears that showed it had been set down. The person behind him slowly moved out of the way, helping him lay back down on the soft mattress, allowing him to sink into the indent he'd made as the covers were brought back up. A hand placed itself on his cheek, almost jarringly warm against his skin as the attached thumb rubbed circles into his skin directly beneath his eye. Abolish tilted his head, leaning into the warmth as a chill set into his body, causing a series of violent shivers to wrack his frame.

The tonal patterns returned, vibrations that slowly gained clarity as comforting circles continued being massaged into the arch of his cheekbone, another hand coming up to comb through his hair, snaring on loose tangles it quickly sorted through. He let out a shaky breath as the words finally made sense, soft phrases padded by the fog enveloping his mind, pillowed by the fading buzzing.

"Are you there, lad?" the voice asked, thick with an accent. He frowned, trying to place it: Morcant's accent was similar to his, vastly different from the one floating above him. Father's was—he couldn't remember what Father's voice sounded like. Another shiver cascaded through his body—Father was dead, he remembered—and he missed the person's next question, the pins and needles in his neck swelling in intensity as he shook, wrapping in on himself. "Come on, give us a sign," the voice continued, fading back into a muffled slurry of sounds until he forced himself to listen.

Slowly, Abolish cracked his eyes open, letting a sliver of light hit his eyes as he tried to see, his vision cloudy as the brightness of the room set in, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut. A breathless chuckle sounded from above him, the hand on his cheek settling in place, a steady presence on his head.

Dull throbbing began to go through his head as flashes of memories came back, stained with blood and the agony of fangs tearing into his flesh. The voice spoke again, calm and soft, with an undertone of joy. "There you are, my boy." A piece slid into place as Abolish recognised Ren's voice, his lilting accent caused by the witch's curse irreplaceable in his mind. "You gave us quite the scare, don't ya know."

Abolish grimaced, then tried to open his eyes again, turning his head to the side so his face was half buried in the pillow. It was easier in the semi-darkness as he heard Ren get up, the lights in the room dimming a few seconds later. Abolish blinked, staring at the white fabric in front of his face as he attuned his hearing to the room more, listening to Ren's steady footsteps thud against wooden floorboards.

The man returned shortly, a steaming bowl held carefully in both hands. He set it down on the bedside table, then picked up the empty glass, swiftly disappearing from view again. Abolish frowned as he slowly turned to stare at the ceiling, squinting to try and distinguish between shapes and colours. A painting hung on the wall above his bed, a blur of greens and browns that denoted a simple landscape.

Two sets of approaching footsteps startled him out of his silent staring contest with the wooden ceiling, struggling to follow the shifting cracks he thought he could make out. He shifted his eyes over to where he thought was a door, locking onto the pair that stepped into the room. One was familiar enough to be Ren, his loose white shirt half tucked into his pants with his suspenders over the top. It took another second for Abolish to recognise the second person, finally placing where he'd seen that shade of blond on top of that dark green cloak before.

Martyn went to stand by the foot of the bed, giving Abolish a half wave as his hand rested on the pommel of his sword, a worn and exhausted look on his face. Ren took his seat in the chair at the bedside, setting the glass of water beside the bowl. "I'm gonna help you to sit up now," Ren murmured, waving for Martyn to help. "Gotta get some food into your body, don't ya know."

Abolish nodded weakly as Martyn stepped closer, bending over to lift his torso off the mattress so Ren could rearrange the pillows, setting them beneath his back and head so they propped him up. Martyn adjusted the covers as Ren picked up the bowl, pulling them back far enough that Abolish could lift his left arm and place it on top of the blanket. His right arm was trapped firmly to his body in a sling of fabric, held in place across his stomach.

Ren pulled his chair closer, then leaned both elbows on the bed, one hand holding the bowl and the other a spoon. "You want to feed yourself? Or should I help you?" he offered, shifting to the edge of his seat. Martyn leaned lightly against the foot of the bed, moving his sword in its scabbard out of the way. Abolish looked around more instead of responding, slowly recognising more elements that showed this was Ren's cabin in the woods, untouched by the fires that had ravaged the town and forest.

He cleared his throat, then managed to whisper, "I—I'll do it." Each word felt like it was torn from his throat, ripped off the back and passed along weakly. Despite that, he raised his hand and reached for the spoon, trying to ignore the obvious trembling throughout the limb. Ren lifted his eyebrows, but set the spoon in his grasp anyway, his hand shifting to be under Abolish's and give it support. Ren held his hand steady as he managed to feed himself once, then dropped his hand to the sheets and closed his eyes, a weight of warm fog settling across his head as he tasted something other than blood.

A third person entered the room before he could continue eating, pushing down his pride and allowing Ren to help with the spoon. Legundo froze where he stood directly in the doorway, his surgical robes slung over his arm and showing the white collared shirt and simple green waistcoat he wore beneath them. Abolish blinked slowly at him, feeling his body switch courses as the fever racked up again. He was unbearably hot now as he pushed on the covers, trying to get them to come down.

The doctor finally moved when he saw his attempts, coming to stand beside his bed and look him over, saying, "I thought I told you two to wake me up!" His voice held no bite, but there was an air of concern in his body as he settled his weight into the mattress.

Martyn scoffed. "You were sleeping," he retorted, ignoring Legundo's pointed glare. "And sleep for a man like you is a rare thing indeed. If my father—"

"Enough, Martyn." Ren cut him off firmly, leaning back so Legundo could reach for Abolish. "It is tense enough already, don't ya know."

Legundo set down his robes and the small bag he'd been carrying on the bed, laying them across Abolish's legs. "You scared me," he said roughly, like he was trying to smile, yet some worry was keeping him from being able to. He put a large, rough hand against Abolish's cheek, wiping away some of the sweat that was beginning to bead and drip off his skin. His next words came as a whisper, somehow weaker than Abolish felt. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"You could never lose someone like that, doc," Martyn said brazenly, his voice loud in the small space they occupied together. "You've fixed some crazy injuries. It wasn't even a possibility."

Legundo didn't respond, instead taking Abolish's hand in his own and holding it gently, like one might a newborn chick. With his other, he searched through his bag for a mercury thermometer, inviting Abolish to open his mouth so he could place the bulb underneath his tongue. Ren watched, his gaze soft, as he looked on over something he'd probably seen countless times in the past—

Abolish furrowed his brows, locking his eyes on Legundo. The doctor managed a breathy laugh, patting his hand and saying, "It has to stay in there for a few minutes, my boy." His face fell suddenly, and he dropped his eyes to the covers, distractedly pulling out a pocket watch from his waistcoat and checking the time. He appeared to be lost in thought as he watched the ticking, moving his fingers to rest over Abolish's wrist where the artery was.

An indescribable time passed, padded on all sides by the too-hot and heavy fog that was setting in over his mind. Eventually, the doctor moved again, re-pocketing the watch and laying Abolish's hand delicately back on the sheets. He retrieved a notepad and pen and made a note, then gently took back the thermometer, reading its marks before wiping it off and wrapping it back in its cloth.

Legs tried to smile again as he finished his notes, looking back at Abolish as he watched him from the bed, squinting to see through the tired blurriness that was setting in. "Your fever's gone down," he reported, tapping the stack of paper with his pen. "You're just above normal ranges now. And your heart rate's doing better, too."

He exhaled heavily, resting his hand on top of Abolish's thigh. "Are you in pain?" he asked, voice tight. Abolish thought about the throbbing in his head, in time with the way he could feel his heart subtly palpating in his chest, and shook his head, the repetitive motion nauseating. "Feeling… vampire-y?"

Again, Abolish shook his head, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Legundo watched him quietly, confused, then chuckled as the realisation set in, shaking his head. Ren stood up from his chair and offered it to the doctor, gesturing for Martyn and himself to leave the room. The pair did so, leaving Legs alone with Abolish as the door bumped shut behind them.

Legundo settled in Ren's chair and moved it closer to the bed, angling himself so he could talk face to face with Abolish while forcing neither of them to turn their heads. "Seriously, Abolish," he pressed, his voice a low whisper. "Are you in any pain? Aching? Soreness? Stabbing?"

The vampire hunter moved to shake his head again and stopped, grimacing as the motion sent a surge of pain through the back of his head and neck. He coughed, his core tightening in a sore crunch that made him retch, tasting bile at the back of his throat. He forced himself to settle, pinching his eyebrows together in an effort to shove the pain away from his head and neck. Resolutely, he shook his head again, stomping down the nausea as he slid down in bed, forcing himself to look at the doctor when it passed.

Shame coiled in his gut as he caught the doctor's eyes and position, how he was sitting on the edge of his seat, one hand outstretched over Abolish's as the other grasped the arm of the chair in a white-knuckled grip. Legundo breathed tightly, like he could feel Abolish's pain, as he reached out and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, laying its steady weight on his chest. It was at that moment that Abolish realised he was shirtless, showing the various cuts and scars he'd acquired over the years from zealous vampires tearing at his body. His cheeks burned, but he was too tired to care, the only factor keeping him awake being the steady, painful throbbing he could now feel pulsing through his head and neck.

Legundo sighed, forcing his breath out as he softly pressed his fingers to Abolish's neck. Abolish flinched and hissed, the site generating a brief stab of pain with every touch, no matter how lightly Legundo pressed. His hand moved next to cup the back of head, fingers grazing over the semi-healed, throbbing scab on the back of his head, moving through the hair that was trimmed short around the injury.

The doctor looked at him sadly and pressed his lips together, then reached over to his bag, sorting through a few of the bottles in it. "I don't want to give you an opioid," he started, then sighed, tapping his fingers along the top of the leather bag as he considered his options.

"It doesn't hurt," Abolish muttered, fixing Legs with a half-glare. The doctor sighed again, softly this time, and ran his hand through Abolish's hair once before checking the cloth that rested over his forehead. He removed it and replaced it with a cooler one, the chilly water soaking into his skin and providing a relief to the heat that was spread throughout his body.

Legundo elected to change the subject, moving to lift him higher up on the bed so he could sit more upright. He sat back in his seat after, crossing his arms over his chest as he inquired, "Do you remember what happened?"

Abolish nodded minutely, a fresh stab of pain moving through his neck as he recalled the feeling of Owen's fangs sinking into his flesh, drawing blood to the surface so it could be drunk, pulled from his body. "He wasn't trying to turn me," he offered instead, since it felt clear that Legundo knew what he didn't want to explain: that he'd gotten himself knocked out and kidnapped, taken to a deep cave to bleed out and die while Owen stood over him.

It startled the doctor into silence, the next question on his lips dying as Abolish's eyes found his, blinking slowly and tiredly at him. "He—what?" Legs asked breathlessly, his arms crossing tighter over his chest. He pressed his lips together, exhaling forcefully through his nose in a clear attempt to stay calm.

The vampire hunter managed a half shrug, turning away to look at the ceiling as he slowly formed his next words, exhaustion weighing on him like an anvil. "They don't—want me alive anymore." He finally said, pieces coming together in his mind. "'Cause I starved them," he explained, beginning to fidget with the blanket as he continued staring at the wooden planks above him. "It's the only reasonable strategy."

Legundo cursed sharply under his breath, burying his head in his hands. "No," he said, his voice thick. "No, that's not how it was—should be." Abolish looked over at him as he cracked his fingers open, showing haunted eyes that refused to fully focus. His voice raised, slightly, as he continued, "No, Cleo and Apo—they both helped find you. The smell of blood. I don't think—Cleo was livid. I'm surprised Owen managed to get away, but I suppose I did need her help. Abolish, you were—"

He collapsed, leaning forward and pressing his face into the bed, an arm over his head like a shield. "You were almost dead, Abolish. God, I don't know what I—I've stopped bleeding like that before, but seeing it on you, I—" His breath hitched and he coughed, turning away to hide himself as he rubbed both hands over his face.

Abolish stared at him blankly, then looked at his hand and how closely it lay to the doctor's shoulder. He stretched out, grimacing at the strain, and latched onto Legundo's sleeve, pulling on it as he sank back into the pillows, utterly spent as Legs turned toward him, his face red where he'd rubbed his skin too hard. His eyes were wet, but he controlled himself well, smoothing over his outburst with a precision born from the military. Abolish reached for him again and Legundo took his invitation, standing up and transferring to the bed.

He took Abolish in his arms and held him closely, helping him sit up and lean fully into him, chest to chest. Abolish relaxed against the doctor, turning and pressing his forehead to the doctor's neck so his face could hide in the shadow. Legundo wrapped his arms around him tighter and whispered, "I've got you," over and over again, until it was impossible to tell whether the words were meant for him or the boy in his arms.

Abolish felt himself fading quickly, swaddled in Legundo's comforting embrace. Beyond him, the room's lights seemed to glare brighter, so he tucked his head deeper into the doctor's protective hold, hiding his eyes from the painful lights. Slowly, his breathing evened out and he closed his eyes, not asleep, but aware enough to hear Legs repeating, "I've got you," into the crown of his head.

He felt safe, for once.

Notes:

CHAT I HAVE SO MANY RAMBLES. There are so many things about this part of the story that I will probably never get to fully write out, so I'm gonna yeet them here for your enjoyment and my future reference if I ever get around to it.

- Okay so the FIRST THING is that I actually had an entirely different plan for the whole rescue. I had Abolish originally lose consciousness as Legundo carried him out, probably in a fireman's carry. However, as I wrote, it became firmly apparent that no, that amount of blood loss meant he would be going absolutely nowhere without stopping that first. The next thing I did was research how people in the rough 1800s stopped bleeding, because present me and my NREMT friend say "Hemostatic dressing packed into the wound, don't occlude the other artery, and monitor airways" would be the solution. This doesn't really work, though, because hemostatic dressings didn't exist until 1989. So I went into a few rabbit holes and emerged with the knowledge that perchloride of iron, delivered intravenously, was a clotting solution first recorded around 1855. So yeah, theoretically, Dr Legundo used a small amount of that at the site to form a clot in the vessel before performing field surgery with a small amount of cauterisation to further stop the bleed. Not too much, though, because the neck has a ton of thing in it that really shouldn't come close to fire.
- SECOND THING I was thinking about was the rescue party, because 1) ain't no way is our 50-something-year-old doctor somehow finding his kid, getting Owen off and gone, and stopping the bleeding in time without help; and 2) I wanted Owen to get his ass handed to him. Naturally, we don't see any of this, but I imagine Cleo, Martyn, and Apo accompanying him into the woods and finding him through the smell of blood left behind from when he was initially kidnapped. Cleo's character is very interesting to me in how protective she is, and honestly, if anyone deserves to beat up v!Owen, it's them. Kick his whiny ass and slay, queen. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
- THIRD AND FINAL THING is that this is almost 1k words longer than I intended. However, I got the opportunity to write a sickfic (YAYYYYYY) because let's be real: ain't no way a vampire is completely free of microbes, not to mention the fact that there is nothing sterile about a field surgery. I love sickfics with a burning passion. I love writing concussions with a burning passion. I love hitting characters with my squeaky hammers with a burning passion. That is all.

Anyway, those are my rambles. I'm more than willing to ramble more about this AU in comment form, so come yap at me. I love yapping.

Also, this is the last hurt/comfort you're getting for this series. There's nothing on the road ahead except darkness, injury, and death. Father must avenge his son, after all.

Come say hi on Tumblr! I PROMISE I DON'T BITE!!!

This is my 67th work. And so I'm obliged by my 6-year-old headmate to say: SIX SEVENNNNNN *aggressive hand waving*
(Only 2 more until we get to the objectively funnier number)