Chapter Text
Title: Starved For Help
Summary: Tim Wright is a Werewolf. He cant control (most of the time) when he changes, but it happens sometimes during the night. Jay Merrick is a vampire who wants to be cured, and the only was he can survive is by drinking blood, otherwise he'll die. As fate goes, they bump into each other. How will they get along, and will Tim be willing to help Jay?
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences PG13 (May change to M)
Relationship(s): Timothy "Tim" W/Jay Merrick, slight Jay Merrick/Jessica
Characters: Werewolf!Tim, Vampire!Jay, Angel!Brian, Demon!Alex, Jessica.
Triggers: Blood, Gore, Death, Drugs/Mention of Drugs, Alcohol, Possible Sex in later chapters (Hence Rating may change)
The green grass shone in the bright morning sun, slowly appearing over the horizon. Tim slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath, wondering where he ended up this time; he was really hoping that maybe this time he wouldn't have turned, but he did. Sometimes it didn't happen for some reason, and sometimes it did. But it must have been a rather unlucky night, because the blood and patches of fur laid strewn on the ground around him, his eyes slowly opening to see the horrible mess that he had made. Once again.
Tim stumbled to his feet and growled, the sun too bright for his liking. But it was a warm welcome that his tired and drained body wouldn't be able to turn now.
He was a werewolf. That was normal.
Another pair of clothes were destroyed as he noticed that he was naked- sometimes he forgot that that happened. Luckily nobody was around to see his bloody body limp back to his small house in the woods, on the outskirts of a certain large town in Alabama. Rosswood park was big, but Tim knew exactly where he was. He had been living there for a long time, after all, ever since his parents kicked hi out of the house back home. But its been years since then, he had gotten over it by now. Besides, he kind of deserved it. He was out of control.
Stumbling into his house, he went straight into his room and grabbed a new pair of clothes. He threw them into the bathroom and walked in, closing the door behind him and turning on the water. A shower could do some good, he was bloody and sweaty and gross and smelly and grass and dirt stuck to his body everywhere. It was really a drag to do shit like this after waking up, not knowing how long you've been out of it or how many people died if any at all. He would watch the news tonight and make sure that there weren't any recent animal attacks, because if so, than he would hate himself even more. But what could he do? The only times he could control when he changed is when the police chased him after he was back as a human, and even then it was more of an instinct than it was him. Innocent people didn't deserve to die because of him.
Cold water helped a lot. It calmed him down. Tim closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sensation of being okay, but his mind kept wandering to the countless number of people he killed. Who knew, it might have been a kid or a mother this time, or a father going home from work to see his children and pregnant wife. Okay, likely hood of that was slim, but it could have been anyone. Running a hand through his veil black hair, Tim turned off the water and sighed. This was going to be another long day.
Stepping out of the shower with a red flannel shirt and jeans, he sat on his messy bed and turned on the TV. He switched it to channel forty four, the news channel, and held his breath. "Please," He whispered to himself. "Just this one time."
An Hour went by, and no new animal attacks or strange deaths. Tim turned off the TV when it went to 'Paid Programming' shit and laid back on his bed, a sigh escaping his mouth. Finally, the first night in a while where nobody had to die because he lacked self control. It was infuriating. His mom wasn't a werewolf, his dad wasn't a werewolf, and he was absolutely sure that none of his further family were werewolves because he talked to them and asked. He was the only one as far as he knew. Things like this shouldn't happen in nature, Werewolves were like those stupid Twilight ones, in which they could turn whenever they wanted to and never hurt normal people and all the girls wanted to be with them. But Tim hardly had any friends, let alone normal ones or a girlfriend or something. There was Alex Kralie, who was a fucking demon who he hardly even got along with, and there was of course the few people he talked to from college but that was it. Everyone in the 'real world' had friends and lovers and a family and things like that, and Tim had medication and mental health issues.
At least he could go to bed easy tonight. It usually wouldn't happen for another while.