Chapter Text
Legundo's apartment wasn't bare, or cold. It was probably the only place he had ever outfitted as home, and it's appearance matched the description.
He had a modest two bedrooms, fitted with soft furniture colored in greens and blues, with thick piled rugs on the floor. There were paintings on the walls, of peaceful meadows, bobbing flowers on spring mornings, and snow covered glittering trees. The colors were so bright, that even with the lights off his vampiric sight would trick itself into thinking there was light pouring out of the frame. He had a bedroom, without windows, and an office, with a slim computer still wrapped in it's plastic and cardboard sheathe.
The ceilings were high, crossed with beams, from which hung gold medallion light fixtures, and the occasional soft rope roost if he wanted to turn his mind off, and nest as a simple bat in the cool dark of his home. The kitchen had a few shiny appliances purely for aesthetic purposes, and the tall chilled cabinet— that he could never recall the name of, because it sounded silly and made up— was full of neatly organized wax paper packages of meat, and bottles of blood.
Shelby had helped him decorate. Legundo was… happy, to see her again. She was flourishing, with Scott, and Drift. Two hundred years he had been dead, and Shelby had grown into a fine young woman. A fine young vampire, who spoke with a confidence and a quiet sensitivity that had made his heart ache. He knew that however she had grown, she had bloomed in spite of Goldsmith, and Abolish all but confirmed it with a neutral hum when Legundo had asked after the subject.
His new home was warm, and inviting. He was grateful he had made it so, when Abolish announced he was coming over to see how he was doing.
This new world was loud. He had thought Oakhurst, with it's animals and rushing water and the creaking trees had been loud, but the twentieth century was cacophonous. There were automobiles everywhere that stunk and burped and burned. There were keys that jingled and doors that beeped, phones that rang shrilly everywhere he cared to look, and screens that shone bright even in the street where you walked. People even seemed to speak louder, and Legundo could hardly go a day out at the local shops without his nerves being frazzled, and heart incited to pounding.
He had barely gotten a chance to grow used to the relative quiet of the Castle, with Pearl and Cleo. There was the hum of machinery and wiring in the old stone walls, the soft burble of water in pipes that had become like a second nature to him. There were lightbulbs that hummed, and buttons that clicked.
He hadn't had time to get used to his vampirism, before he had… died. The sounds were overwhelming to him, but Cleo and Pearl had helped him adjust. He had felt like an infant, newly born and clumsy. Even his emotions were ragged, and he hoped never again to feel the shame he had felt when he had lashed out, and almost broken Cleo's arm.
He had slowly been adjusting. Coming to terms with being alive, again.
But then Owen had awoken. Cleo had brought him into the castle, cradled in her arms, caked in dirt and mud and blood, her mouth thinned in displeasure. Owen had been unconscious, mouth slack, brows still somehow furrowed in a ferocious sort of anger.
Legundo had left before he awoke, and Cleo and Pearl had understood.
There was nothing there, that he could not do himself, in solitude. In peace.
It had been half a year. He did well enough on money— Cleo and Pearl had helped him apply for grants, and scholarships. Cleo had joked about his military service, and the forged documents had allowed him to renew his education in the medical field, free of charge while also paying for books, and rent. He was… unsure if he would build a medical practice again. He had time to think of it, while he studied.
Legundo had time. All the time in the world, perhaps. He would need it, with all the sheer information there was available.
There had been so many advancements in the medical field, he had sat and wept nearly once every week, reading it all. Thick, heaving sobs that had frightened and confused him, shoulders shaking. He was grateful he did not have neighbors who shared a wall. He was grateful he was alive, even if it was only for a short time, even if it was only to see this.
Antibiotics. Insulin. Radiation therapy. Cochlear implants, blood transfusions, dialysis, open heart surgery.
Legundo felt lost, he always felt lost now, and was yet unable to tell if it was in a good way. He had stopped his weeping, after what seemed like ages of trying to make his way through his books, heart aching with a sense of wonder, and heavy grief of all the people who came before, who would never benefit from such advancements.
A little girl he had treated, in a village, who had fallen into a deep soporific sleep and never woken up, her body unable to process sugars. The room had smelled of heavy rot, a small body eating itself alive. The father of five he had been unable to help, who had hit his head and gone blind and slack all along his left side. The pneumonia that had killed, the bones that had gotten infected, the cancer that had ripped organs apart and all the doctors and scientists and self proclaimed experts had never known why.
Legundo had been adept at blood transfusions, which had been revolutionarily new in his time— but now he knew the reason why some failed. The difference in blood typing, the rejection of cells which made the body fail to acclimate. Now he knew why he himself had always succeeded when giving of himself— O negative.
He had been a universal donor.
Legundo's table was piled high with neatly organized piles of books, and for loss of anything else to do with his long days and sleepless nights, he read.
That was what he was doing, when Abolish finally knocked on the door.
Legundo had been sitting in his arm chair. It was the one thing Shelby would not countenance picking for him— he'd had to choose it himself, from a catalogue, since going out to the store was still a stressful endeavor. It was a twilled, light gold-green fabric. The color of spring. A soft, cashmere knit blanket was thrown over his lap, knitted by Shelby herself, colored in blue and yellow and pops or carnation red. In two hundred years she had become quite the accomplished craftsman, and Legundo already had two scarves to accompany it, in neutral brown, and another in a much more vibrant red that she insisted matched his eye.
Legundo tucked a slip of paper into his book and went to answer the door on quiet, socked feet. He did not have to ask who it was, since he wasn't expecting any visitors, and there was the slow, even thumping of a half-vampire on the other side of the door. Not quite the pitter-patter of a human heart he could hear from his neighbors below, nor the imperceptible movement his own heart gave on occasion, when he exerted himself. Abolish was a study in contrasts now, since Oakhurst, which Legundo thought only fitting. He had been a study in contrasts before being turned, after all.
"Abolish," he greeted, opening the door, and fixing something akin to a smile on his face. He was pleased to see Abolish, regardless of his own difficulty adjusting, his distraction of late.
He had seen Abolish plenty, as he had adjusted. At the Organization, where he had given statements. At cafe's, where Abolish sipped coffee and Legundo warmed his hands on a tea, and listened to him complain about work. Sometimes Legundo suspected Abolish did not have many friends, if he was talking to someone who had so little to contribute as he did— but that was an ungenerous thought. Abolish was devoted to his work, and Legundo was just happy he spared the time he did for their brief meetings.
Abolish was dressed in a black leather coat, short on the waist with excess fabric to emphasize the shape of his slim shoulders and arms. He had on a deep necked plain white shirt, denim trousers, and militaristic looking boots that Legundo suspected were far more functional than they appeared. As if a joke, he had a silver cross earring dangling from one ear, and a silver chain hanging atop the pale skin of his chest, above his shirt. On it were two wedding rings, of gold.
His hair looked different, bifurcated, and Legundo knew despite the airs Abolish put on he found the look deeply unprofessional. The only other option would have been to shave his head, since his hair would not keep a dye, and here Legundo found a streak of vanity— Abolish would sooner die than shave his head, and it amused him to no end to discover the fact. Especially since Legundo had seen so many young men have their head shaved in his time, it seemed hardly something to quibble over.
"Legs," Abolish greeted, a smile flickering on his face briefly. His fangs were smaller than Shelby's, not visible unless he grinned— an expression Legundo had rarely seen. He held a hand out and Legundo shook it, savoring the warmth, much less scalding than a human's hand might be.
Legundo had only touched a few humans since he had woken up, two hundred years in the future. He had shook the realtor's hand, when they had sold him his apartment. He had brushed fingers with the bus driver that drove the route in front of his street, when she offered his spare change. Abolish's palm was a cool, comforting temperature, warmer than his own, but not stifling.
Legundo led Abolish in, flicking a light on despite neither of their need for it, and wandering to the kitchen as Abolish paused to inspect the books about his table.
"Tea? I keep something on hand that's palatable for vampires, and I'm sure you'd enjoy it as well. Although, it's slightly bitter."
"I'm alright," Abolish demurred, and Legundo heard the crack of a book spine, the soft whisper of pages turning. "Looking at anything new this week?"
"Hip replacements," Legundo said, and shook his head at the chuckle Abolish gave. His attention was on his kitchen counter as he heated water in the small electric kettle, and retrieved one of his few mugs from the cabinet. Almost all of them had a dark ring inside— bloodstains. He heated his meals in the microwave most nights, if he did not drink it cold. An appalling endeavor, but sometimes he did not wish to pause his studies.
Now he made himself a mug of tea, the kettle burbling, the spoon clinking as he added a spoonful of protein to the mix. Oddly consumable for vampires, as long as it was animal based. There were a great many vendors and shopkeepers that operated under the mundane surface of New York City, and many of them even delivered specially crafted goods to their… eclectic clients. Legundo had been getting to know a local apothecary through his purchases, and had idle thoughts of perhaps taking a temporary job there.
"Looking to get yourself one sometime soon?" Abolish asked, as Legundo came back with his drink, sitting at the table. Abolish joined on the same corner across from him, where the surface was clear of books.
"Har har," Legundo sipped his drink, enjoying the warmth, and the quiet. He had thought to put a record on, but didn't know how long Abolish might be here. "Did you take that contraption here?"
"The bike?" Abolish grinned. (And there were those fangs, small against a flash of pink tongue, and a glint of silver piercing.) "Course. I can't bat, after all."
Legundo gave a disapproving hum, but kept his peace. He didn't approve of motorcycles— death traps, every single one. Abolish may be sturdier than a human, but he was far from matching the healing factor of a pure blooded vampire.
Legundo also occasionally still had flashes of… protectiveness, despite himself. Something about Abolish's scent still had traces of… of him in it. He did not have the wings, that Legundo now had— monstrously large things, a mirror to Owen's, that made him ill every time he caught glimpse of them. But he had the strength, and he had a hint of something all his own, that gave him the scent of smoke.
They made idle talk for another ten minutes perhaps. Legundo always started stilted, uncertain— following a script in his head, until he thawed, and remembered this was Abolish. His fledgling, in a way, although he carried another vampires scent now more strongly. Morcant, who Legundo had only met once or twice, and tried not to bristle at. He could always talk to Abolish, and he liked to flatter himself that Abolish felt comfortable talking to him.
Shelby complained often that Abolish was recalcitrant. 'Grumpy,' she said, and then laughed at Legundo's incredulous expression.
Legundo did end up putting that record on, once the sun had finished setting outside. There were digital discs you could use on new musical devices, but he enjoyed the sound of the records. The scratch had something more natural to it, which his vampiric hearing didn't object to. Abolish seemed to like it just as well, relaxing enough to remove his coat, and drape it over the back of his chair. His arms were crisscrossed with thin scars below the short sleeves of his shirt— blade wounds, and the occasional singe of fire. There was the crescent of a bite mark on his wrist, that looked as if it would have done permanent damage if it had gone any deeper. Perhaps Abolish's healing was more robust than Legundo knew.
"I didn't come just to chat," Abolish finally admitted, as Legundo finished the last dregs of his drink. "I wanted to ask you to do something, that's. Uh…" Abolish rubbed a knuckle between his brows, sighing. "Difficult."
Legundo hummed, neutral and wary. He set his cup down.
"I need you to talk to Scott."
"No," Legundo said, without thinking. Quick, and abrupt. He felt a growl in his chest and stamped it down, frowning.
"Hear me out?" Abolish asked, and Legundo could not help but meet his wide dark eyes across the table. One brown, one a deep crimson. He looked as plaintive as Abolish Veylocke ever got, and Legundo nodded reluctantly for him to continue. "Scott has been… fine, these past couple of centuries. Two hundred years is a very long time, and he's done what the organization has asked of him. He's only killed in self defense, he's fed responsibly, he's kept his business practices… mostly moral."
Abolish shrugged, as if to dismiss the thought. The Organization was not concerned in morality, Legundo knew. It was about balance. "But I think he needs… I think he needs someone to keep him honest, and that won't be Shelby. Not forever— maybe not even now."
"I wondered about that," Legundo said. "They… live together?"
"Married, if you would believe it," Abolish said with another rare grin, and laughed at the disgust that crossed Legundo's face. "He wanted her to be able to inherit, if anything happened to him, and simplify any legalities in the future."
"And you let her?" Legundo demanded, aghast. The cup in his hand cracked with a soft plink, and he hurriedly set it aside, easing his grip.
"I'm not her parent, I'm Scott's parole officer," Abolish said, raising an eyebrow pointedly. "They can do what they like. But… talk to Scott. You've had some time to adjust and Morcant would like—"
Legundo could not help the growl that rumbled out of him, suddenly. Low, and uncontrollable. Abolish blinked evenly at him, his expression shuttering, and Legundo cleared his throat hurriedly.
"I— apologies," he said, sincerely.
"… It's alright," Abolish said, visibly taking a breath, before continuing on. "The Organization would like you to start getting your feet under you, and nobody knows the current political climate of the New York covens like Scott does. they want to encourage you to… I want to encourage you to get involved."
"I am not joining his coven," Legundo lifted his lip at just the thought, and Abolish did not say anything. Just raised an eyebrow.
"Not even for Shelby?" Abolish asked idly, and Legundo growled again, this time in frustration, teeth bared. "For Drift? They won't leave him, you know that."
"No, he's sunk his claws into them—" Legundo took a breath of his own, deep and shaking. He braced his hands against the table, claws fitting themselves into the furrows that already existed from previous bouts of temper. "I won't let him sink his claws into me."
"I would feel better," Abolish said slowly, tilting his head and causing Legundo's interest to pique, despite himself.
He suspected Abolish knew what he was doing. On occasion Abolish held himself a certain way, or made his tone a certain way, and Legundo found himself feeling… protective, despite the fact that Abolish was now likely four times older than Legundo had ever been. He would bare his neck, or blink slow, and Legundo would become suddenly amenable, or find a purr rumbling in his chest he did not mean to make. Some aspect of biology, although Legundo didn't think it had anything to do with his natural inclination to listen to Abolish in general.
He wondered if Morcant had to struggle with the same thing, and the anger that thought brought him made it easy for him to keep himself centered.
"Stop it," he protested, frowning, and Abolish gave an easy going shrug and smile. "Why? Why would you want me putting myself into that mess?"
"I think the Goldsmith coven isn't going anywhere," Abolish said, leaning back in his chair, silver earring glinting with the motion. "And I'd prefer if they had a more stable presence than Shelby, who can be a little… indulgent, and Drift, who is…" Abolish tilted his head once more in consideration, this time not inciting any emotion from Legundo, who turned his eyes up towards the ceiling to avoid the sight. "Conflict avoidant."
"You want us to fight?" Legundo asked incredulously.
"I think Scott has failed to add any members to the Goldsmith coven in two hundred years for a reason— but I don't think he'd say no to you."
"And yourself?" Legundo asked, not able to help the faint jealousy that simmered in his stomach when Abolish gave him a polite smile.
"I think you know I'm off the cards."
Legundo growled, but clipped the sound off with a heavy sigh.
"Do you think Scott is breaking his probation?" Legundo asked, and Abolish hesitated, before nodding slowly.
"I think if he is, it's to the letter of the law. Self defense is a pretty wide description—"
"I can imagine," Legundo said drily.
"Just…" Abolish sighed. "Talk to him? Maybe don't join the coven, but I need someone with eyes on Scott whose judgment I trust. He's been quiet, but that's almost more concerning than if he'd been stretching his leash."
"You're his leash."
"I know," Abolish stood, retrieving his coat from the back of his chair and swinging it back on. He gave Legundo a nod, and tapped knuckles to the table surface. In the other room the record player has spun to silence, and all Legundo could hear now was the ticking of a clock, and the rattle of his ice maker as it coughed to life in the kitchen. "Take care. I'll check in again in a couple of weeks— swing by, have dinner. Make yourself available for Shelby at the least?"
"I don't see why you aren't doing this," Legundo said, disgruntled despite himself.
"I have bigger things on my plate than Scott Goldsmith," Abolish said, rolling his eyes. "I appreciate it."
Legundo sighed, and stood, leading Abolish to the door. "Well, whatever those bigger things are, be careful."
Abolish gave him a nod, and left. Legundo was able to listen to him all the way down the hall, and then down the stairs. Past the electric hum of the elevator, past the second floor tenant far below who was cooking a roast. Past the lobby, where Legundo imagined Abolish's boots clicking on the neat and polished floor below. If his bike started with it's characteristic snarling roar, the sound was lost in the soft hush of traffic that laid over the city no matter where Legundo was listening from.
Legundo went back to the table, and moved his empty cup aside. He began again, to read.