It was difficult to tell what time it was. Night or day. From one to the next. Hours seemed to pass in an instant for Gabriel when he was hardly aware of himself, while seconds crawled as he watched the outside world through a body that had ceased to be his own. They stopped bringing people to him long after he ceased to care whether they were alive or dead. It just didn’t matter anymore. At first he thought Donovan would starve him, teach Gabriel the agonizing lesson of what he’d done. He may not have control of himself anymore, but he could feel every bit of pleasure in the kill and every bit of aching pain in hunger that had seemed to multiply tenfold since he’d lost himself.
Then, one day (or perhaps evening), Donovan came back to him in the small, sparse room they had locked him in. Gabriel half-expected to see a stake in his sire’s grasp, but there was nothing.
“Just kill me,” Gabriel tried to force the thought into Donovan’s mind, weak, distant. It didn’t work.
“Please,” he tried again. Instead of death, however, the older vampire gave him something altogether different. A bare wrist.
“Gabriel, drink, it will help, you need to come back to yourself, back to me.” He said softly, offering him his own flesh and blood.
For the first time in days, or more, though Gabriel could not move his hands of his own free will, or speak, or do anything, he felt almost at ease. Almost like the wild creature in control and he saw eye to eye in this one moment, when he bit into his sire’s wrist and drank. The moment didn’t last, but--it felt like he could just barely touch that link between their minds that he’d severed by running away. Then it was gone. Donovan let him drink, it didn't seem as though he had any intention of stopping him.
“Come back to me, Gabriel, I know you're in there, I can feel you, reach for me and return.”
He tried. To scream. To move. Anything. Gabriel fought with every ounce of strength he could summon, but his mind was just an echo chamber. Until--
“I could kill him,” a thought that was not his own, and not Donovan’s. Something else entirely. Something darker.
“Who are you?” Gabriel asked with the only voice he had, which were fading thoughts and sparks of lucidity.
“I'm you, well, the useful side of you. He would let me kill him now, you know, shall I kill him for you?”
“No!” Gabriel snapped back, “stop drinking. Please.”
“Why should I? Who's going to stop me? You?” He heard laughter, “don't make me laugh.”
“Because he made you, didn’t he?” Gabriel demanded, “if you don’t let him live, there’s nothing to stop anyone else from killing me--killing us.” He couldn’t let this thing in control kill Donovan. He couldn’t.
“You made me, not him, you created me. Make me stop if you can, if you want him to live.”
“Fuck you,” Gabriel snapped back at himself, the irony escaping him. Weeks of losing his mind were getting to him. “What do I have to do?” He’d bite his own tongue off if he could. Kill the monster before it could do anything else.
“Do you think I'm going to tell you how? Not going to happen, figure it out yourself but you better hurry, I think this one is running out of juice.”
“Donovan, that’s enough,” an unfamiliar voice called out from the open doorway. “Leave him.”
Gabriel wanted to give a shout of triumph, if it weren’t for the sudden vicious snarl emanating from his own mouth, as the monster in control tore deeper into his sire’s wrist. It wanted Donovan to suffer.
“No, he's there, I know it, I can feel him, just, just a little more. Please father.”
“You are aging by the second. I can not allow you to continue this or you will die,” the stranger in the doorway went on, speaking only to Donovan, and Gabriel didn’t doubt he was right.
“Father? So, his sire is here, I bet he would be delicious.”
Reasoning with the monster wasn’t going to work. It knew only hunger. Survival was not its endgame, of that he was certain. So, one last time, Gabriel fought. To scream. To move. To do anything but kill one of the few people he still cared about, whether he’d ever openly acknowledged it or not.
“Donovan tastes wonderful, I can feel his life pouring into me. I'll take it all.”
Gabriel turned his anger inwards, trying to find some link to his own body, something he could control. The only strength he had now were his thoughts, which led him to a very bitter conclusion. “If you let him live, I will never starve myself--us--again. I’ll feed. Often. Just let him go.” The only thing that mattered now was keeping Donovan alive, everything else was pointless. Even his friends ceased to matter in the moment. If he had to, he might kill them too.
“If you go back on your promise I will slaughter each and every one of your friends, then I will kill your sire. Am I clear?”
He wouldn’t be surprised if he was the first man in history making a deal with his own demons, but for Donovan, Gabriel had to. “I won’t,” Gabriel conceded, “let him go.”
In an instant he was back in control of himself. He let Donovan go, watching as his sire fell back against a man he had never seen before. Donovan looked old and frail in the man's arms. Worse than when they’d first met in person. Maybe it was too late.
“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” Donovan’s sire remarked to Gabriel, seeming to know immediately what had happened, though he focused all his attention on the weakened vampire in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered under his breath, hating himself for the strength he’d stolen, and the blood he could still taste on his lips.
Donovan laid his head on Ignatius’ shoulder, “Gabriel, I'm glad you're back.” Of course his sire didn't seem to care about himself.
Gabriel leaned down to press his forehead to Donovan’s knee, “why did you let me do it?”
“You needed my blood, I had to save you, it was the only way. This isn't the first time I've had to do this.” He closed his eyes.
“You could have died. You almost did. I wasn’t worth it.” He could no longer make the connection with who he was before he’d lost control of himself. Gabriel would rather slaughter a building full of humans than lose Donovan now. Especially now.
“It will take a few days,” Donovan’s sire stated calmly, hardly even batting an eye as he ran a hand through the weary vampire’s hair, “rest, eat, and you will be back to normal soon. I will remain for a while to help you both.”
Disgusted with himself, Gabriel couldn’t understand why they weren’t, “I’m sorry,” he repeated again. It sounded empty to his ears.
“I hope you learned from this.” Donovan said softly, eyes still closed.
“Maybe a little,” Gabriel admitted, unable to summon even a semblance of a smile or a laugh.
Donovan’s sire tore into his own wrist, offering it to Donovan by pressing the bleeding skin to his lips. “It won’t be much, but it will help you walk out of here,” he glanced back at Gabriel, “he will recover. You, on the other hand, could do with a shower.”
Gabriel looked down at himself, seeming to see the bloodied clothes and tatters for the first time. He didn’t smell especially pleasant either. “Yeah, you might be right.”
Donovan drank deeply, his eyes still closed. After a few moments he pulled back, lapping up the remaining blood. “Thank you, father.”
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“I expect Clarence will have taken care of arrangements for the evening,” Donovan’s sire remarked, helping him to his feet as Gabriel stood with them. “Three should suffice, I think. I will be dining out tonight.”
Donovan leaned against him, “help me to the sitting room, Clarence will bring me food but I'm having trouble walking.” He looked at Gabriel, “this is my sire, Ignatius. I'm sure he didn't properly introduce himself.”
Gabriel rushed to help as Ignatius pulled Donovan close to better anchor them together. “Gabe,” Gabriel managed to blurt out, fearful that at any moment he might lose control and this lucidity was merely temporary.
Donovan allowed himself to be helped to the sitting room and deposited in his chair. He tipped his head back, closing his eyes and relaxing. “Thank you, if you could call Clarence I'll be fine.”
Ignatius bowed his head, leaning over towards the opposite chair to grab an extra throw pillow to help cushion Donovan’s neck while he rested. “I will do so,” he glanced over at Gabriel, “I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but tomorrow will be better.” He gave Donovan one last reassuring squeeze of his hand before leaving the room.
Gabriel felt like a kid. Powerless and small, all too aware of just how awful the things he’d done had been. He sat down at Donovan’s feet and laid his forehead against his sire’s leg, “you shouldn’t have done that for me. I wasn’t worth it.”
Gnarled fingers stroked through his hair gently, “you will always be worth it and you are not the first I have saved from being feral but hopefully you'll be the last. I would do it again, of course.”
He hesitated to ask, “how long was I in there?” Then, the unspoken question, how many times had Donovan fed him like that? This seemed like it may have been one of only a few occurrences, but there were so many days he couldn’t recall even being aware of himself or the world around him. For all he knew, Gabriel had been in that room for over a month.
“Two weeks, I've been feeding you every day for two weeks.” He replied, continuing to stroke through his hair, waiting for Clarence to bring his meal.
It suddenly struck him that maybe the monster in control of him had waited until Donovan was this weak to make his point that much clearer. Gabriel may be in charge of his own body, but the hunger would always win. Over everything.
A gentle knock sounded at the door, followed by Clarence’s voice, “I have brought the guests. Would you like me to see them in?” He inquired, dropping the title of master in all likelihood to keep Donovan’s victims at ease.
“Yes, please, Clarence, I'm afraid I'm not at my best tonight.” He glanced down at Gabriel, “you will be fine as long as you drink, as long as you feed the hunger.”
“How do you know?”
The door opened before Donovan could respond, and Clarence led three men in slick suits into the room, “gentlemen,” Clarence bowed his head, “my employer would like to make a deal as soon as possible. I will give you your privacy,” he informed them, quickly departing and locking the door. The three may have been dressed nicely, but they didn’t look very pleasant. Dealers, maybe. Pimps. People nobody would miss.
“Gabriel, incapacitate them and bring me one.” He said softly, stroking his cheek, “will you do that for me?”
The contact was welcome. A link Gabriel hadn’t really appreciated until it had been severed, which made it all the more difficult to see Donovan in such a weakened state. Gabriel placed a hand over the one on his cheek and nodded, wordlessly, all too happy to comply.
“What the fu--” One of the three men seemed to catch on to Donovan’s instructions before Gabriel was even on his feet, on alert after the sound of the door being locked grabbed his attention. Gabriel lashed out, grabbing the man by one arm and remorselessly twisting it like a chicken bone until he could feel tendons and bone crunching in the human’s shoulder. Gabriel hardly registered the screams at all that echoed around him as he dragged the agonizing man down to eye-level with Donovan while the other two men scrambled towards the door to try to open it.
Donovan took him, digging his nails into the back of his neck to pull him closer before driving his fangs in deeply and drinking him down in large swallows. Within seconds Gabriel secured the last two and brought them to him, in much the same way he’d incapacitated the first. Donovan drank from each of them, draining them dry and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Color had returned to him, although his hair was still pure white and he looked old, very old, but he definitely looked better.
The mess would be dealt with. It was a miracle Clarence could deal with a massacre like this without batting an eye, but somehow Gabriel struggled to find a reason to care anymore. The part of him that fought all of this was gone. It was easier that way.
“Do you need more?” He asked, watching Donovan from a distance. Seeing him look so much older because of his own pointless stubbornness was like having a knife twisted into his gut. It hurt.
“I can't drink anymore tonight, it will take time to regain my youth and my strength. For now, just stay with me.”
Gabriel nodded, closing the distance between them and sitting back down on the ground beside Donovan’s feet, “I think I can do that.” It was good to be back.
----------------------------------------
Louise put a bowl of chips on the card table. Was Gabe even going to want to eat them? Should she have gotten something special for him? Was he going to drink and if he did would he get drunk? Could they afford to let that happen? He didn't have much self control when he was drunk. Gabriel had called and told Lee that he was going to be coming over, that they should play a game or two of poker. Maybe things really could go back to the way they used to be, like Donovan had said. She looked over at Lee who was pulling a bottle of whiskey out of a brown paper bag, he had gotten Gabe's favorite.
“It's been a month since the incident, is this going to be alright, do you think?” She asked, absently pushing the bowl of chips around.
“Gonna be good to see him again,” Chuck remarked, atypically emotional. The man swore like a sailor, drank like a fish, and when he found out Gabriel was finally back to normal after the accident Donovan had been very vague in describing, Chuck very nearly wept like a little girl.
“Yeah, but, I mean, after what happened…” she looked out the window, “I just don't know.”
Danny grabbed the bowl of chips from her, “stop dragging them across the table, it's annoying.”
A knock at the office door alerted them, putting Danny’s attempts to monopolise the chips on hold.
“Somebody gonna let me in?” Gabriel called out.
Lee opened the door, smiling slightly at him, “it's good to see you, how are you feeling?”
He looked good. Healthy, even. Better than they’d seen him last, when their visits had begun to shorten. “Feeling pretty great,” Gabriel told him, holding out a bottle of whiskey to Lee, “who’s ready to get their asses handed to them?”
Danny sat down at the table, the bowl of chips in front of him, “bring it, vamp boy.”
“I’ll make it quick,” Gabriel promised with an almost lighthearted smile as Lee took the bottle from him and stepped aside to let him in.
“Donovan’s waiting in the car,” he remarked, with a casual shrug, “told him he’ll be waiting it out all night, but he’s stubborn as hell.”
Louise scowled, “you brought him with you? Why? I mean, do you want him to come in?”
“He’s just worried, that’s all.” He glanced back towards the door, “I mean would you mind if he joined us? I know he sort of freaks Danny out.”
Danny looked mildly offended with a mouthful of chips, “he does not!”
“If you would like him to be here, he's welcome.” Lee said, pouring them drinks.
Speak of the devil, Louise couldn't help but jump as Donovan stepped inside, “how?”
He gave her a small smile, tapping his temple, “thank you for inviting me, I won't get in your way, but I appreciate not having to wait in the car.”
“He’d have come in eventually on his own anyway,” Gabriel admitted, pulling up a chair at the table beside Chuck. Remarkably nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Alright, who’s dealing?” Gabriel prodded Chuck’s shoulder, “you going to be fast enough, old man?”
Chuck gave him a false scowl, holding it for about two seconds before a smile broke through, “pretty happy about blowing all your cash tonight, Gabe?”
Danny, for his part, would not take his eyes off of Donovan. He was definitely a little scared. “How about we have Donovan be our designated dealer?” Lee said, handing the vampire in question a glass of whiskey, “if he wouldn’t mind. He doesn’t even have to play himself.”
“If you would like,” he said, taking the drink before sitting at the table, back straight, before beginning to shuffle the deck expertly.
“Were you a dealer in a past life?” Louise asked, watching him bridge.
Donovan smiled, “I have done it in the past, over the years I've learned a few tricks.” He easily cut the deck with one hand without looking. He dealt out the cards once everyone was seated, passing himself, it seemed he really had no intention of actually playing.
“He’s really old,” Gabriel added for emphasis and a strange little smirk that seemed to be specifically meant for Donovan.
“Glad you can joke,” Chuck remarked, “getting old is a real crap shoot. You never know what’s going to go out, your back, your knees. Guess that’s not a problem for you, is it?” He directed the question towards Donovan.
“I've felt my age too much recently but I’m feeling much better now. I can understand getting old, if only temporarily.” He smiled at the old human, “how many cards?”
“Texas Hold ‘Em,” Chuck informed him, his eyes locked on Donovan with remarkable intensity, “five card hand. Easier that way. I like my games simple. How about you?”
“Simplicity can be beneficial, however complexity can be more enjoyable.” He finished dealing as he spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey, and looking at Chuck over the rim of the glass.
Louise grabbed the bottle of whiskey Lee had opened and began to pour herself a healthy dose, suddenly very confused at the weird vibe coming off these two. Men.
“Just look after this deck. I’ve had it a lot of years, and I don’t wanna see it get—“ Chuck paused, taking a sip of black coffee at his side. He’d been cutting back on the liquor lately. “—hurt.”
“It’s my deck and I bought it last week,” Danny interrupted, glancing over at Donovan.
Donovan smiled, eyes still locked with Chuck's, “ah, yes, I shall, of course. I wouldn't want anything to happen to it.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes, “great, nobody’s going to hurt the cards, Chuck. They’re fine. Are we going to play?”
“Whiskey?” Louise offered, eyeing Gabriel thoughtfully.
They were supposed to be the good guys. Taking down evil. Killing monsters. Yet they’d lost one of their own in a way, and they were playing poker with the sort of creature they’d have been hired to stake only a few months ago. Maybe they weren’t heroes. Heroes, after all, tended to fight evil without expecting a decent pay-off. There was no way she’d ever be able to bring herself to hurt Gabriel, or any of them, though. So maybe they found themselves in a gray area now, where the lines between hero and villain had become just a little blurred. At least the city was safe. For the most part. They played cards until around midnight, the atmosphere relaxing and becoming more what they used to have, back before this whole mess. Even Danny relaxed with Donovan there. The old vampire just kept dealing cards and pouring drinks, mostly keeping quiet, almost docile. It was an odd thing to see. This was nice though, maybe this could become a regular thing even though Gabe was a vampire now, maybe they could hold onto this little piece of normalcy. Maybe.