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A vampire’s birth is not that much different than an infant’s.
The rattled gasp for air, the blood, the weak cries as it’s thrust into a world of harsh lights and sounds, from the safety of the unending black, to a world it did not ask to be born into.
The only difference is that vampires have to suffer this injustice twice.
Stripped of personhood down to nothing but his baser instincts, that burning hunger that cannot be ignored as the thing that once was Dennis tried to sink its teeth into the first flash of flesh before him. The command of “no!” struck him like lightning. Large fingers opened his mouth, roughly sliding a thumb from the back of his soft palette to the front and another flash of pain radiated from his mouth. A broken wail tumbled out of him alongside his old canines, the new ones sliding in place with a wet noise.
“-know, Den, I know, gotta get these out before your fangs grow in, I’m sorry-” The voice slid over him like water, none of the words really catching his understanding. He still weakly squirmed against the hands holding his head and arms down.
Everything smelled like antiseptic and sweet blood, the scent of his Sire hanging over him and singing through his veins. He could hear the heightened heartbeats all around him, the screaming chorus of machines, the rattle of the crash carts and the squeak of shoes on linoleum tiles and stop stop stopstopstop-
Finally someone let their grip slacken- just a flash- but enough to squirm his way out of their grasp with one full body thrash. His body crashed against the floor but he barely felt it as he crawled forward until he curled his body into the corner of the room.
Three people- or rather, two humans and his Sire.
A deep hiss rattled out of him, stressed and anxious and instinctual. His Sire said something to the other two, and he watched like a hawk as they slowly left the room and flicked off the lights. Dennis could still see perfectly in the dark, and so could his Sire.
“Dennis.” He called quietly, kneeling down on the ground and taking off the blue gloves on his hands. He looked so strong, so safe, but he didn’t know what was going on, he couldn’t let his guard down- “Come here, Dennis.”
He was as helpless to the command as the tide was to the moon.
His sharp nails scraped the floor as he crawled forward, curling his body against his Sire’s like a frightened dog. Hurt little whimpers bubbled up in his throat.
“Yeah, that was a rough turning, huh?” His Sire murmured, raking a hand through Dennis’s blood-matted locks. “I’m so sorry, Dennis, I- it was that or watching you die and I just- I couldn't-" His voice cracked a little, and Dennis nuzzled against his Sire’s chest and crooned softly.
The sweet scent of blood filled the air again, and Dennis sniffed the air in interest until his Sire’s hand came down and pressed his bloodied wrist to his mouth. The latch was clumsy, and he could feel his teeth scratching over his Sire’s skin, but for now he was content to suckle and feed on the crimson liquid oozing into his mouth.
.:༄˖°.★.ೃ࿔*:･
“...well first off he needs a bath.” Was Jack’s response to seeing the bloodied pair in his doorway. Like Robby hadn’t changed the course of a young man’s life forever. Like he hadn’t sullied a soft lamb’s wool with his filthy blood.
“Jack-” Robby rasped, voice feeling fragile before Dennis nuzzled his face back into Robby’s neck with a hungry little noise.
“Is he still hungry?” Jack asked, closing the book in his hand and walking over.
“Yeah, I- I didn’t eat at the hospital, Dennis… crashed before I could.”
That was the nice way of putting what happened. That Dennis had been found pinned to a hospital gurney by a hungry vampire, those blue eyes staring up at the ceiling, pupils wide and unresponsive-
Dennis’s hiss dragged him bodily back to the present, clinging to Robby as Jack tried to gingerly transfer him from Robby’s arms into his own.
“Alright, alright baby bat, I hear you- yeah, you're so big and scary, huh?” Jack grunted, wrestling the weak fledgling into his arms and onto the couch. “Robby, go shower. Take a breather.”
“But-”
“Go. I’ve got the kid.”
The bath was perfectly perfunctionary- a scrub down, just enough to get the blood off him, enough to soak the warmth of the water into his cold corpse. He grabbed the first pair of sweatpants he saw and a worn-in t-shirt. He could already feel it, that almost infantile probing of his conscience compared to well-worn trenches of his mind where Jack occupied space. Flashes of ‘warm, food, sire? Sire, safe-’.
Where Jack’s connection was like an outside source seeking into his head, he could sense Dennis’s consciousness like a wave gently lapping at his own, open for him to explore. Trusting Jack that Dennis was safe, he took his time to brush the blood off his teeth where they pierced his own wrist before slowly going down the stairs.
Jack had Dennis curled against him, his wrist pressed to Dennis’s mouth and trapped there by Dennis’s weak grip as he fed. He could already see the irritation around Dennis’s ears where they were being reshaped to the curse’s liking- elongating and sharpening, a predator’s ears- and the claws that no doubt dug into Jack’s skin.
“He’s good. I think he knows I sired you.” Jack spoke gently, his tone catering towards the fledgling’s weak grasp on words. “I almost forgot how cute these guys are, I turned you in… 1860?”
“1863. War medic, remember?”
“Ahh, you’re right. Gh-Fuck, I’ve lived through too many wars.” Jack nodded. “You killed a horse. I remember the troops thinking it was a godly divination.”
“You lost track of me, I don’t take any accountability for that.”
“I made it harder for you to kill yourself but you did your damn best.” Robby let out a bark of laughter at that, sitting down in the armchair by Jack. Already he could see the low lamplight reflecting in Dennis’s eyes, a soft ochre sheen of his pupils.
“It was a vampire patient. We didn’t know- he came in because the street team found him collapsed in an alleyway, bleeding from a wound on his neck. We thought- I thought the paleness was just because of the bloodloss, I overlooked it, and- Jack I was just gone for a second-” Robby’s voice grew hoarse as his throat tightened painfully, pressing a fist to his mouth to keep any unruly sounds from escaping. Jack heaved a soft sigh.
“You did what you could, Robby.”
“I could have done more-”
“-if he was still bleeding at the site, then he was still human, Mike. He would have looked human. He would have smelled human. With the bloodloss, you would have chalked up the slow heartbeat to hypovolemic shock. The venom probably kept him docile until he got to the hospital, and then the curse took over. There was nothing for you to suspect. There was nothing you could have done.” Jack explained patiently, softly but firmly, the way he talked to a grieving family member or a scared patient.
Robby just nodded, keeping his eyes on the docile fledgling laid across Jack’s thighs.
“That’s probably enough for him. There’s a couple blood bags in the fridge, could you-?” Jack pulled his wrist from Dennis’s grip, prompting a cat-like growl from Dennis. Quick as a snake, Jack’s other hand gripped the back of Dennis’s neck firmly, letting out a deep warning rumble of his own and giving the fledgling a shake.
“Hey, hey, easy-” Robby blurted out over Dennis’s snarls, hands coming up even though he didn’t know what he was going to do with them. ‘Stay.’ The word rang out through Robby’s connection, prompting him to sit and grip his knees to stop himself from doing something rash. Jack held the grip until Dennis went slack in his hold, head lolling back and soft little whimpers bubbling up from Dennis’s blood-slick mouth.
“Food aggression. You gotta nip that shit in the bud unless you want Dennis puppy guarding his food. Especially if it’s live.” Jack said grimly, letting Dennis slowly go back to laying down and petting the hairs on the irritated skin of his neck. Dennis let out the sigh of someone whose belly was a touch too full and sated. “Yeah, and yet you wanted more, huh? I really don’t want to clean blood vomit from my carpet tonight, baby bat.” Jack chuckled, the sound following Robby as he took out a blood bag from the wine fridge in the cabinet. When he tried to give them both to Jack, he only took one.
“Mmm, the first one is for me. You get the other- you drained yourself tonight.” Jack told him, watching Dennis’s nose twitch again like a dog’s smelling a treat. “You’re not gonna like this stuff better than me, kid. It’s stale.”
In some bizarre version of normality, he and Jack watched TV and tried to focus on the program. Tomorrow they would need to sort out Dennis’s living arrangement, file a report for a rogue vampire, switch Dennis to night shifts, and teach the fledgling about the new world he was navigating.
‘Can I have just tonight?’ Robby thought to himself, watching the two men he cared about curled up together on the couch. ‘Just one night?’
.:༄˖°.★.ೃ࿔*:･
Going back to work in the morning to fill out Dennis’s paperwork felt like walking into a burning building. Or at least, that’s what Robby’s adrenaline made it feel like. Word had gotten around fast. Robby wasn’t shocked; the kid had a lot of friends. He walked up to the nurse’s station and Dana wordlessly placed a packet of papers in front of him.
“Legal guardianship, acknowledgement of breaching vampyre code of conduct, acknowledgement of overridden advance directives, aaaaand Whitaker’s copy of the vampyre code of conduct for him to sign when he’s with us again. Congrats, Robby, it’s a boy.” She teased gently, giving a little smile at Robby’s relieved sigh.
“Dana, you're an angel.”
“Tell Saint Paul that when he asks for my letter of recommendation. You lookin’ after him or am I going to have to make a house call?”
“He’s… he’s stable. Working through the disorientation, the transformation- Jack’s acting like a kid who got a puppy for christmas. I think he misses having someone to take care of; Gh- Hell knows I don’t let him.”
Robby could see someone walking up to him with urgency, which was never a good sign of Robby leaving before he got roped into a case. He turned to greet the person but he was looking at the other side of the room before he processed the sting of the slap to his cheek.
“Fuck you, Robinavitch.” Trinity spat, her voice seething with venom. “You couldn’t even let Dennis die with dignity, huh? He was marked DNR since he was born, but you just had to keep your precious little stress ball up and running, turning him into a fucking monster like you!” She emphasized her words with a harsh jab to his chest.
“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough.” Dana stepped up behind Trinity, taking the arm of her fleece in one hand and rubbing her back with the other. “Take a breather, slugger. Go to the break room and get yourself something.”
Trinity spared him one last, long look before she shrugged Dana off and stormed back towards the break room with a loud “Fuck!”
“Little ears, Santos, watch the volume!” Dana scolded lightly after her, turning back to Robby with a sigh. “You didn’t have to just stand there and take it, Robby.”
“It’s what she needed. It’s not like it isn’t deserved.” Robby assured, taking the folder of paperwork.
“You did what you thought was right in the situation. You did what most of us would have done if we had the power to- even if we don’t wanna admit it.” Dana kept her voice low. “Go on- go back to your boys before you get roped into something here.”
“I owe you a beer.” Robby promised, slinging the papers into his backpack and heading back out the ambulance bay doors. The sun was thankfully hidden behind a blanket of thick, grey clouds that promised rain.
He slung on his helmet with a soft sigh before revving the engine to life.
“I have nothing against them.” Dennis shrugged as they worked a silver knife out of a man’s side; some old Helsing wannabe had stabbed his neighbor after insisting he was a vampire to the apartment manager multiple times. That’s what happens when you stop coming in for your Laurozil doses. “I think I’m marked down as DNR from when I was born, but that was just my parents… they wanted, uh, natural death for me. I just never got around to changing it.”
“And what do you want for you?” Robby asked lightly- just curious. Wondering if a boy like Dennis would ever want to be what he was.
“I haven’t really thought about it to be honest. I always figured I’d be, like, old? Ready to leave the party, so to speak.” Dennis responded absentmindedly. Robby remembered when he had been of that mindset- too young to consider life as anything other than a given. ‘I’ll figure it out later’, and then you’re fifty and staring down the other side of the hill. “Did you… have DNR when you were turned?”
“In 1863? Hell no- your life was in the Big Guy’s hands. DNR was just the standard; if it was your time, who were they to interrupt His plans?” Robby shrugged with one shoulder as they walked out of the room, tossing gloves and looking at the board for new cases to tackle. “Plus I was shot by a rifled musket in the chest- that’s about as final as it gets.”
Robby really hopes the kid doesn’t hate him when he wakes up. He didn’t know if he could handle it.
.:༄˖°.★.ೃ࿔*:･
Awareness, when it graced Dennis with its presence, was cold and sharp and fleeting.
He had periods of it- laying down in a dark room on a soft bed and letting out quiet moans just to give the discomfort in his body somewhere to go. His body was cold and throbbing with pain at the same time; his mouth, his ears, his hands and knees, all odd points of pain he couldn’t connect into a diagnosis with his sluggish mind.
He remembers the hospital- remembers staring up at the ceiling- was he upside down?- with a heavy weight on his chest, his body warm and heavy and fuzzy.
He felt like he got hit by a truck. His whole body hurts, his mouth hurts, he’s starving and somehow more tired. It must have been a fucking hell of a shift. He lets out a soft groan of pain and buries his face back in his pillow.
“Ohh, I know, baby bat-“ The vibration of his pillow startled him, but Jack’s low croon jolted Dennis into alertness, wide eyed at realizing that he was not in his own bed. Or alone. And that he had been using his night attending's chest as a pillow.
“Doc-Doctor Abbot? I- how did I get here, wha’-?” Dennis stuttered- his mouth felt full and crowded, were those teeth?- while staggering to his feet.
“Easy, easy kid. You’re okay.” Jack’s trying to soothe him, slipping into that “I’m-about-to-tell-you-something-very-serious” doctor voice like that wasn’t going to freak Dennis out more. Dennis’s stomach churned on itself in hunger, causing him to place a hand over it and see his sharpened nails.
“Wha’ the fuck?” Dennis slurred out around his canines, his voice trembling as he stumbled over to the master bathroom.
“Dennis, wait-"
Dennis flipped on the lights and looked into the mirror.
The first thing he saw was his eyes, the pinprick pupils and the way the bathroom lights turned them a reflective shade of ochre. Then the fangs in his mouth, and the irritated red of his pointed ears.
“Alright, Dennis, just take it easy, okay?” Jack was on his forearm crutches by the door, subtly blocking it off with his body. A foreign noise left Dennis, high and thready and nervous that sounded like a dog’s whine.
“Wha’ happened?! Why am I this-this-“ Dennis asked shakily. He knew what he was, he wasn’t dumb, but the idea that it was happening to him had him disoriented. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t, the lights were so bright in here and he could hear the steady breaths and Jack’s sluggishly beating heart and- oh my god, he wasn’t breathing.
Dennis took in a shaky gasp, but the dizzying feeling didn’t go away.
“You were attacked by a patient. You were helping a man who had been turned very recently, and he got a hold of you, Dennis. I’m so sorry. Robby only just managed to save you-“
“I died?” Dennis croaked incredulously, a little hysterically. “I died, why- this isn’t happening-“ Dennis’s back hit the wall as he slowly slid down it to sit on the ground. “Oh my G-“ Dennis gagged and choked as the word halted itself on his lips, burning like acid on his tongue. “I can’t, I can’t-“ He felt his mind get hazy with panic, the hunger making itself more loudly known as his stomach growled in the tight room. He was so hungry. Jack smelled so good and it made his stomach heave at the thought.
Jack watched as Dennis’s panicked garbles trailed off into harsh panting. He had sat down with Dennis, watching him spiral and trying to talk to him, but he could see the words were lost. Dennis finally looked up with teary red eyes and let out a warbling whine before crawling over to Jack.
“Alright, and feral Dennis is back.” Jack sighed, his heart clenching at his little sniffles and whimpers. Dennis probably couldn’t even pinpoint what was making him upset, just knew that Jack was a comforting presence. This he knew how to manage, letting the fledgling crawl into his lap and bury his face in Jack’s neck. He rocked the two of them gently, rubbing Dennis’s back until the sniffles tapered off into little hungry whimpers.
“Let’s get you fed, baby bat.” Jack murmured, bringing his wrist up to bite.
He remembered when Robby was turned; sitting in a canvas tent and Jack standing guard in front of it insisting that Robby had typhoid fever. He couldn’t coax him to eat until he was starving for it, clutching at Jack’s wrist as he fed. (He really had bled and drained a horse- found Robby curled up in his tent with a miserably full belly.)
Dennis was his own enigma; fledglings craved closeness, sure, but Dennis clung to Jack like a lifeline. Any movement that pulled Jack away earned a sharp whine and Dennis pressing his body flush against Jack’s. It was from a couple factors- Dennis was, in all accounts, an animated corpse. His body needed blood for warmth and nutrients, and when it wasn’t getting fed that then Dennis sought it out. Once or twice already they had to stop him from messing with the blackout shades, yearning for a warm sunspot. Jack insisted that Robby just had to let him burn himself and find out, but he refused to put Dennis through any unnecessary pain.
He’d been… oddly sweet. Jack’s only fostered a handful of fledglings over the centuries, Robby being the most recent, and none of them had been quite as needy as Dennis.
“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” Jack murmured down at the fledgling curled up against his chest while he lapped at the bloody puncture site Jack made for him. His back twinged uncomfortably, reminding Jack of his position; on the cold, hard floor of their bathroom, without his prosthetic on, holding a distressed fledgling in his lap.
“Alright, sweetheart, can we try to move?” He slowly moved his legs out from under Dennis’s- as soon as Dennis felt cold tile under him he grumbled and scooted further up into Jack’s warmth. “Awww I know, I’m sorry my corpse doesn’t like sitting still this long- too close to rigor mortis.” Jack huffed and got to his feet, grabbing the forearm crutches he laid down on the floor and getting to his feet.
Dennis trailed after him like a dog- pacing close enough behind him for Jack to feel his hand brush against his shirt- and had to lean against Jack’s back while he sat on the bed and attached his prosthetic. They both stilled as they heard the rumble of Robby’s motorcycle pull up into the driveway; Dennis was already trilling and making his way to the hallway, thundering down the stairs quickly and letting out an angry hiss when he couldn’t look out the window from the blackout shades.
“Oh, I see how it is- just the placeholder for Robby. It’s whatever, it’s fine.” Jack grumbled to nobody in particular, getting to his feet and to the stairs with a much more controlled descent.
Robby opened the door and ‘oof’-ed as Dennis barrelled into him with a loud whine.
“Heyyy Den, easy there… hey sweetheart.” Robby murmured, setting his helmet and bag down on the bench by the front door so Dennis could properly hug him.
“Had a little bit of a freak out this morning- he was lucid for a sec.” Jack admitted, reluctant to interrupt them. He rarely gets to see Robby just.. Gentle. Affectionate. “Gave him some blood once he calmed down, he’s just due for a hug now.”
“Mhhm, 20cc’s of physical touch, doctor’s orders.” Robby spoke down to Dennis’s head, ruffling his hair and making his way to the couch with Dennis on his heels.
“Takeout?”
“Please- I feel like I haven’t chewed anything in the last 48 hours.”
Having Jack and Robby finally together on the couch had Dennis wiggling in excitement, sucking on one of the PVC tubes like some kind of macabre juice pouch; while Robby and Jack were old enough that they could stomach and enjoy normal food, Dennis still needed a diet of just blood. Jack offered him a bite of sweet and sour pork that made Dennis wrinkle his nose and turn his head away with an offended noise.
It was only when Jack got up again to throw away the empty cartons that Robby saw Dennis still out of the corner of his eye, before a soft voice said;
“Robby?”
Robby turned his head; Dennis was staring at the bloodbag in his hands, a noticeable tremor to them.
“Hey Den- back in the land of the living?” He asked softly, setting down his carton of low mein. Dennis nodded, reaching for Jack’s cup of water on the table and rinsing out the blood from his mouth with a shudder.
“Eugh, that’s fuckin’ awful-” Dennis croaked, screwing up his face in disgust.
“It’s an acquired taste.” Robby agreed, watching Dennis carefully cap the pouch.
“… I’m a vampire now? Officially?” Dennis asked.
“Yup. Welcome to the club, kid.” Robby tried for upbeat, but he could see Dennis wilt at the admission- like he was hoping this was all just some sick prank.
“So… what- I’m just sick for the rest of my life?” Dennis asked softly, fidgeting with the
“It’s not a.. Disease, necessarily. Or at least not like one we’ve learned about yet.” Robby started, scratching his jaw. Dennis was quiet, watching Robby as he played with the PVC tube of the transfer bag. “It’s a curse. One that’s passed through the act of transferring blood instead of the actual blood getting into your system. Once it is, it basically shuts your body down to its bare essentials for survival. Dissorientation, aggression, confusion, fear- it only keeps the parts of you online that can keep you safe while the curse works through you. That’s why it is so important to take care of a fresh fledgling.”
Robby paused, letting Dennis soak it all in before continuing. “You’re in the later half of the transformation. More lucid, aware, in control. You’re still going to have hiccups and bad days but… it’s manageable. You’ve been switched to night shifts- most of the staff are vampires, so they keep each other accountable with staying on top of feedings. It works.”
“I won’t be able to work dayshifts anymore?” Dennis asked, his face dropping. “But- Trinity, we barely see each other since I’m here-”
“-we can see about transferring her, if she wants. But unfortunately vampyric employees have to work nights for the safety of both staff and patients. Can’t have someone bursting into flames during a delicate procedure.” Dennis huffed out a sigh and fiddled with the PVC tubing, looking into the middle distance. It was a lot; he’s handling it better than Robby did when Jack took the time to explain things to him.
“I hate this,” Dennis admitted quietly. “I didn’t- I wanted to make that choice.”
Robby felt his stomach drop like a rock in an icy pond. “I know, kid, I… I’m sorry.”
Dennis’s head snapped up in shock. “No, no, Robby, I… I’m not upset that you were the one to do it, I promise, I just… I wanted to happen during a non- life-or-death situation. Weight out my choices, not..” Dennis trailed off again. Robby knows he had the ability to peak into his thoughts, what he was feeling, but that felt like an overstep he wasn’t ready to take. “Was it the guy who came in with the neck punctures?”
Dennis’s pale hand weakly pawed at the patient’s arm until Robby threw the guy off him, screaming for security as Dennis’s blood pumped forcefully onto the gurney. Horribly gasping noises as the ragged holes in Dennis’s neck whistle sickeningly. His face was so pale it looked grey.
“Fuck, 27 year old male with iregular puncture wounds to the sternocleidomastoid muscle rupturing the internal jugular vein-” Robby started listing off as other night crew members rushed in, quickly picking up Dennis and getting him onto a new gurney. “Damage to the trachea, watch for air embolism- someone get that fucking patient into the bat bay!”
Dennis let out a weak, choked whine as his hand came up and slid uselessly against his sleeve.
“We’ve got you, Whitaker, we’ve got you-”
“Yeah. He was… still bleeding at the site the street team found him in. still was human when we brought him in so nobody thought to check for vampiric interference. I… I’m Sorry, Dennis. If I had stayed there while you were doing the-”
“-don’t do that. It’s not your fault some asshole bit me.” Dennis interrupted with a huff, setting his bloodbag down. Jack had leaned himself against the living room doorframe, listening. “You did what you could. You saved me.”
“Yeah, you kinda have to beat him over the head for this kind of stuff, kid.”
“My point being I’m sorry you had to go through this.” Robby intercepted hotly. “And me and Jack are here to help guide you through this. The beginning is rough, and we are more than happy to be a soft place for you to land.”
Dennis’s eyes softened, nodding at Robby’s words. “Thank you, both of you.” Dennis heaved a sigh. “We’ll make it work.”
Robby just looked at him- he couldn’t help the gentle wonder in his gaze that a man so young was taking it all on the chin. Lord knows when he turned he felt insane.
“We will.” He replied softly.