Chapter Text
Ezra let out a small sigh of relief as he dumped his backpack at the bottom of the stairs, the weight of it no longer pressing on his shoulders. He’d make a quick run to the kitchen to grab a study snack and anything with caffeine in it, and then up to his room to start on his mountain of homework. By now, he was starting to think the whole point of school was to prepare kids for a lifetime of never sleeping.
As he turned, there was a blur of movement, and he jumped as Kanan seemingly materialized from nowhere right in front of him. Vampire speed seemed pretty useful, Ezra would admit, but after a year, he still hadn’t quite gotten used to Kanan just appearing like that.
“Hey, Kanan,” he said. He glanced down at his backpack. “Don’t worry, I’ll move it in a second. I just…”
His voice trailed off as he looked up, accidentally meeting Kanan’s eyes. They looked glassy, their pupils dilated so much the green was barely visible. Kanan had said vampires couldn’t get sick, but something was obviously wrong. The longer Ezra stared, the more he felt like it wasn't even Kanan staring back at him.
“Ezra.”
A sharp tingle of fear spread down Ezra’s spine at the sound of Kanan’s voice. There was something off about it, strained and distant, like Kanan was struggling with something. Slowly, Ezra took one hesitant step forward. He glanced over his shoulder at the front door, wondering if he should call Hera.
“Are you –”
His question was cut off by a gasp as Kanan grabbed his wrist hard. He tried to step back again, but Kanan’s grip just tightened, keeping him from pulling away.
“Kanan?” Ezra’s heart was pounding as the man’s fingers grew still tighter around his arm. Something inside his head was screaming, telling him to run away, to call for help, to do something don’t just stand there!
“Y-you’re hurting me,” he said, his voice weak as terror crawled up his throat. In a year of living with them, neither Kanan nor Hera had ever laid a hand on him, but he had always feared it would happen one day. It had happened so many times before, with foster parents who’d seemed nice at first, until one day they snapped.
Kanan’s grip loosened just slightly, and for a moment, a wave of relief washed over him. But the feeling quickly evaporated as Kanan’s hand tightened again, dragging him forward. Ezra yelped as Kanan’s other hand tangled in his hair, wrenching his head to the side.
Exposing his neck, Ezra realized, the bottom dropping out of his stomach.
“Kanan, stop!” He twisted his arm, trying to break free, but Kanan’s supernatural strength was too much for him to fight against. “St—”
His words dissolved into a scream as Kanan’s fangs pierced his skin, sinking into his neck.
He twisted in Kanan’s grip, gasping as those fangs just sank deeper, like Kanan was going to tear his throat out. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tugged against Kanan’s grip on his arm. With every second that passed, his struggles grew weaker as Kanan drained the blood from his body.
Ezra couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning so much he wanted to throw up. He could feel himself trying to speak, but he couldn’t tell if any sound came out of his mouth.
His free hand twitched, trying to claw at Kanan’s arm.
And everything…
Everything stopped.
Stop!
No!
What are you doing?!
That's Ezra! That's Ezra! Let him go!
STOP!
Kanan’s hands sprang open reflexively, letting whoever he was holding onto so tightly fall. He was vaguely aware of a dull thud as the fog began to clear from his head. A familiar, metallic taste filled his mouth. Blood. But when had he…
A sinking sense of horror spread down his spine as he snapped back into awareness. He looked down, eyes widening in horror when he saw Ezra lying on the floor in front of him, blood still trickling from the wound in his neck.
Kanan dropped to his knees, grabbing the kid’s shoulders and shaking him. He pressed his fingers against Ezra’s neck – the side that wasn’t ripped open by a gaping wound that he’d left there – finding a weak, frantic pulse.
“Ezra,” he said, gently patting the boy’s cheek with one hand as the other pressed down on the wound. His skin felt wrong, cold and clammy like he’d been dunked in freezing water. “Come on, kid. Wake up.”
Blood continued leaking from beneath Kanan’s hand as the kid gasped for air. His skin was ashen, growing colder by the second.
He wasn’t going to make it. Even if Kanan called an ambulance now, Ezra would die before they could get here.
No.
Kanan drew his hand away from the kid’s face and bit down on it until blood welled up around the wound. Carefully, he tilted Ezra’s head back and pressed his bleeding hand against the kid’s mouth. Ezra twitched, trying to pull away. With his other hand, Kanan gripped Ezra’s chin lightly, trying not to hurt him as he held him in place.
“Nn…” Ezra’s voice was so quiet, Kanan could barely hear it.
“It’s okay,” Kanan said. “You’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”
Slowly, the kid began to swallow the blood that flowed into his mouth. His eyes twitched beneath their lids, but didn’t open. Every second that passed felt longer than the one before until, with a shudder, Ezra went completely limp, and his breath stopped.
“No,” Kanan whispered. He let go of Ezra and pressed his ear to the kid’s chest. There was no sound. No heartbeat, no breath. Everything had stopped.
He hadn’t acted fast enough. And now Ezra was dead.
He’d killed his son.
“Ezra,” he gasped, his hand finding the kid’s and gripping it tight. “I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”
Ezra’s fingers twitched.
Kanan gasped, sitting up abruptly. He stared down at Ezra intently, watching for any signs of movement. Time seemed to move even slower than it had just seconds before as he waited, waited, waited. As the minutes dragged by, he began to wonder if he’d imagined it. And then everything happened at once.
Ezra’s back arched, his heels digging against the floor. A scream burst from his throat as his grip on Kanan’s hand grew so tight, Kanan could feel his bones creaking beneath his skin.
The screaming continued as the kid kicked and thrashed on the floor, with Kanan helpless to stop it or do anything to comfort him. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped and Ezra went limp again. There was still no breath, no heartbeat, but he wasn’t gone. Kanan could feel him, still there, still alive. Or as close to alive as either of them could be.
Trying to steady his shaking hands, Kanan lifted the kid into his arms. He held Ezra gently against his chest, as if the kid were made of glass, as he carried him up the stairs to his room.