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Robin was the First. Not just the first of their family or even the first in England but the First. No one knew how exactly it happened - even after hundreds of thousands of years - he wouldn’t tell anyone. But they did know that he had killed the shaman who Turned him and the rest of their tribe. When his own tribe had arrived, he had said goodbye to his children and simply walked away, faster than any of them could follow.
Robin found an expanse of land and set himself a boundary - a boundary that would eventually mark the lands of Button House. Many wanderers visited him and he accepted the things they offered him, many trying to convince him to Turn them too, to give them the power that he now had. He refused and kept refusing until one day the loneliness overcame him and he let two brothers convince him.
The two brothers left and Robin was alone again.
He still felt a connection to his fledglings, a vague suggestion of what they were doing. He felt it as they Turned more, increased his connection to the wider world. He also felt as they were killed, both brothers and many of their own fledglings, until only a few remained.
Robin wasn’t surprised by the deaths. In the hundreds of years he’d been receiving visits to his little corner of the world, the majority of them had been shocked that he didn’t attack them on sight or go across the land, terrorising all who challenged him. Robin had shrugged, eating the meat he had cooked over the fire and just advised them not to come too close. The food sustained him but the call in his veins was still strong and the smell of blood might overwhelm him.
Time moved on. Robin was overwhelmed, several times, but he did not Turn anyone else. He could feel more like him being made but he did not make them. Not even as the humans came and made homes on his land, as the years stretched on and on and generations went by, only knowing him as the wise man who lived on the edge of the village. Soldiers came through and tried to harm the villagers but Robin saw them off, slitting their throats in the night and crushing their bones in the day. Other creatures like him tried to attack, to overpower him but Robin was older, alpha, and they couldn’t seem to do much more than nod and obey when he gave them orders. Robin protected the village, through violence and war, sickness and plague. Even when more soldiers visited, proclaiming king after king, Robin’s thoughts stayed on keeping the village safe.
And then they built a new house, bigger and grander than anything Robin had ever seen. When it was finished and the new family moved in, Robin jumped to the roof, just to prove to himself he could and, on the way down, found himself face to face with Sir Edmund Bone, the new overseer of the surrounding lands. Robin’s lands.
Sir Edmund had invited Robin in for dinner, had introduced him to the rest of the family and discussed how it was now Sir Edmund’s job to look after the villagers, not just Robin’s. Matilda, Edmund’s wife, had joked that Robin knew more about it than they did and they asked for his help.
For the next few hundred years, Robin was the guardian of Bone Manor as much as the village and he protected the little lordlings that grew there. Having a master of the lands meant the master had to grow to be fair and just, and Robin made sure they always did and helped with the justice when they were old enough to issue it. If the crime was strong enough, Robin was more than happy to drag the criminal to the dungeons to show how Bone Manor’s resident monster was best kept fed.
Robin couldn’t pretend that he didn’t love the babies that were pressed into his arms. He had to stay away during the births, due to the blood but when he returned their fathers would hand them over and Robin would make a comment about how he had done the same thing twenty, thirty years earlier with the man in front of him then smile down at the babe in his arms, remembering the times he had held his own children. Most of the children slept on in his hold but one, little Humphrey, had smiled and reached up for him and Robin had decided that this one was his, as much as he was a Bone.
As Humphrey, Robin continued to watch out for him, standing by his side. When Humphrey was forced to marry, Robin had gone with him to meet his new bride at the harbour, leaving his lands for the first time in millennia. Sophie had been shocked by Robin, many were but she did not seem a bad person, as miserable as she made Humphrey’s life. Robin sometime could not understand why Humphrey gave her so much space as they grew older, knowing they had responsibilities as head of House Bone but nothing came of it. Until Humphrey found that letter and the men started storming the house.
“Can stop them.” Robin muttered, holding the door shut. He’d come running when he heard Humphrey screaming, guarding the door to let Sophie run.
“They’ll just keep coming, send more men. They’ll kill the whole village just to get to me.”
“Then, you will die.”
Humphrey nodded, resolved to his fate. “I will die. Had to happen some day, why not today. Time to die like a man.”
“No. You will die, like me.”
And Robin had leapt at him, pinning him to the walk and sinking his teeth into Humphrey’s neck. The younger man yelled out and tried to push him off but Robin was too strong. The soldiers walked in to see Humphrey reaching desperately for their help and see Robin, blood dripping from his lips, and turned and ran. Robin pulled away, with great effort, watching the fear and shock fading from Humphrey’s eyes as he slipped away. Robin bit into his own wrist, pressing the wound against Humphrey’s lips and forcing him to drink. Humphrey shuddered and collapsed, taking one final, painful breath as he fell into Robin’s arms.
Robin lifted him as gently as he could, carrying him down to the dungeons, hiding him from the sunlight that would sting him until he could stand on his own strength.
Days later, Humphrey awoke and their little coven now had two vampires.
Robin took time to explain everything to Humphrey, glad he had a fledgling who was willing to listen this time. He explained how the sun would hurt him more if he wasn’t full, how moonlight would replenish his health and how, no matter how much he ate, he will still hunger and feel the pull more if he ever smelt blood. Humphrey nodded solemnly, ignoring the way Robin couldn’t fully bring himself to look at him, avoiding seeing the great gashes that now marred his neck.
Things were fine, for about a hundred years. The village accepted Humphrey as a second protector and kept him hidden when the King’s men came looking. Robin continued to act as the village justice, though this was needed less now he had moved back to live in his hut on the outskirts of the village, with Humphrey in tow. The Manor was mostly abandoned, stories rising in the neighbouring villages of the ghost of the former owner, screaming in the dungeons. These rumours weren’t helped by Robin dragging condemned prisoners to the dungeons, so he could keep the temptation as far away from Humphrey as possible.
Robin managed to keep Humphrey from tasting blood for one hundred years. He had never felt his own existence was a sin but he knew how others, outside of the village saw him and didn’t want them to view Humphrey the same, wanted to save his soul as much as he could.
He should have been more vigilant.
He had just finished another execution - a child killer and one he was happy to dispatch - when he felt another smell on the wind. He had left Humphrey with the villagers, many who had been baying for blood and wanting to watch the criminal killed in front of them, to help. Robin had told Humphrey to keep the people in the village and to protect them but hadn’t thought what would happen if Humphrey was suddenly unable to fulfil that order.
The smell of blood on the wind had him rushing out of the Manor, jumping through one of the windows in his speed to get out. The smell was getting stronger and overlapping and he knew what that had to mean. He was lucky he had just fed or he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself when he saw the bodies.
Humphrey was crying in the middle of the square, surrounded by the rest of the village. His arm was cut open and he was pressing it to any lips he could still see breathing. He was panicking and kept trying to save the children. Robin had to pull him away in the end, Humphrey biting into his shoulder in frenzy until he realised who was holding him.
“I tried to keep them in the village, they started fighting.”
Robin just nodded, shutting Humphrey in their hut and returning to the village. He carried those Humphrey had saved - eight in the end - to the dungeons and placed the rest together in the biggest hut, where the village elders had their meetings and children were presented to god. He took his time, marking each face and name he had lost, before setting the building on fire and leaving the village to burn.
He returned to the dungeons with Humphrey, waiting for the new vampires to awaken. Humphrey was distraught, wanting to help them but Robin’s resolve hardened and told him to wait. Humphrey couldn’t do anything but obey the order.
When the villagers awoke, they were angry, of course. Humphrey offered them every apology he could but they did not want to talk to him, or to Robin. Robin explained what they were and told them that the village was gone, heading upstairs to sleep by the fireplace.
The eight decided to stay downstairs.
A new family came to the Manor about fifty years later, along with a new village of commoners. This new family didn’t care to protect the villagers and Robin soon found out why when the father of the family arrived in the dead of night. He was like them.
Humphrey stood in front of his fledglings, all lined up on the stairs behind him. Humphrey’s arm was held out to increase the protective barrier he was attempting and Walter was stood just behind him with a soft grip on the back of his shirt. Fifty years was a long time to hold a grudge and in their family they had learnt to forgive quickly. Robin stood a few feet in front of Humphrey, staring down the newcomer.
Lord Alistair Higham had come down from Scotland with Charles II and was clearly used to being the most frightful thing in the world. Being faced with the primordial being that was Robin clearly gave him pause. Robin tilted his head, judging this fledging as five generations away from him and young, very young.
“So, it’s true.” Lord Alistair said. “There is an original vampire wandering about the English countryside.”
“The original vampire, I think you’ll find.” Humphrey said, not looking back at his fledglings shuffling closer to get more protection from their sire. They’d seen him at his most feral. “We all come from him.”
“Is that so?” Higham looked curious more than anything else. “Well, be that as it may, this is my house now and I’m not in the habit of sharing.”
“Our house.” Robin said, simply. “My land. You will not hurt us. Won’t make us leave.”
Higham’s lip quirked and he opened his mouth to speak, then froze. He glanced at his wife, who looked back confused, then turned his glare to Robin. “Very well, Alpha. You may continue using our rooms and dungeons. But I am the Lord of this land now, and I shall be treated as such.”
Robin shrugged, turning and walking to his room without a second glance. After a moment, he heard Humphrey walk downstairs with the others.
The Highams were apparently a family of vampires, mating with humans and turning their young when they reached maturity. With their separation from Robin, their blood was weaker and the children didn’t always survive the Turn so Lord Alistair soon became angry with Humphrey and his brood who were still strong and powerful after decades of death, while he was barely able to step into the sunlight if he did not feast the night before.
It became clear why they had brought a whole village with them when Alistair Turned his eldest daughter. The girl screamed through the whole thing, very different to the peaceful sleep Robin had brought his fledglings in the past. Then, when the girl was finished screaming, her father took her to the village. Robin’s senses were strong enough to smell the blood and he marched himself downstairs and told the others to keep him there. John and Nigel locked him in one of the dungeons, constantly looking to Humphrey for reassurance. Humphrey sat outside the cell all night, talking to Robin about anything that came to mind.
The next morning, the sun rose and Alistair and his daughter came striding back from the village, basking in the light. Robin met them at the door, refusing to give them the satisfaction of reacting to the blood on their jaws. Humphrey stood next to him, fingers twitching but keeping himself under control.
When Alistair’s son was turned, the village wasn’t so lucky. The boy was weak and needed to feed every night, on and on killing innocents and almost forcing Robin into a frenzy. Eventually, the boy got arrogant, assuming he was strong and stepped out under the sun. Robin watched him burn up and, in full view of his crying mother, stepped out and walked towards the village. They were in shambles, trying to figure out who had killed their friends. They cried witchcraft and tried to find a witch. Robin watched all this with growing concern, as they shook woman after woman down, trying to find some mark that showed they were in league with the devil. They finally found the ‘proof’ they wanted in the medicine woman out on the outskirts of the village, living in Robin and Humphrey’s old hut, the only house still standing from the old village. She had cried and begged them to listen, pleading to her children who looked at her with nothing but contempt. They locked her up in the house and set it ablaze.
Robin would never be able to get the sounds of her screams out of his memory. He made his decision quickly, crashing through the house and pulling through the other side. She looked up at him, clearly close to death, but with a gratitude in her eyes that almost made him change his mind.
“Thank yous, sir. I didn’t wants to die in there.”
“What’s your name?”
“Mary, sir.”
“Mary. I’m sorry.”
He lifted her arm to his lips and then she was screaming again. The villagers on the other side of the house started cheering, clearly thinking she was still in the flames as her screams stuttered to a halt. Robin bit his arm and offered her the blood, cradling her in his arms once she had drunk enough. She slept there peacefully and Robin started running, making it to the house quicker than the wind and surely faster than any of the villagers could follow, by foot or with their eyes.
Lord Alistair frowned when Robin walked past him with Mary.
“We can’t have another one. How will we keep enough villagers alive for us all?”
Robin frowned. “We not need villagers. You need stronger children.”
And with that he left, to wait for his new fledgling to wake.
Time passed much quicker after Mary joined them. So much had changed in such a short time for Robin, he had to grow used to a hundred years being an age and not a blink.
Lord Alistair returned to his family’s castle in Scotland, leaving his daughter to marry and rule Higham House. He took his wife with him and Robin didn’t want to think what would happen to her in a coven of murderous vampires.
The village expanded into a full town on the outskirts of the house’s lands. New footpaths and roads were built and Higham got more and more visitors. Robin and Humphrey were invited to dine with them and tell stories of the past, though Mary pointedly wasn’t. Robin suspected Lady Higham was still angry about her brother.
More years passed. A new Lord Arthur Higham took over, his mother and siblings leaving for the north. This new Higham seemed sensible and listened to Robin’s advice and even spoke to Mary on occasion about the townsfolk and what they might need. He had a young daughter, barely a year old, and then brought home a second. He was trembling when he arrived home with the girl wrapped in his arms and he handed her over to Robin quickly, saying he would be back in the morning, rushing to wipe the blood from his chin.
Katherine and Eleanor were raised together, Arthur treating them both as his own. Robin could see the guilt in his eyes every time he looked at Kitty and the hatred in Eleanor’s. When their mother died, Eleanor became harsher, crueler but still Kitty still smiled through it all.
Robin could almost allow himself to think things were going back to how they were with the Bone’s, him watching over the young children, being a second pair of arms to them to run to when they were sat. But only Kitty was running to him, Eleanor very insistent that he was beneath her. Robin merely shrugged whenever she suggested something like that and turned to where Humphrey and his brood were listening attentively to Kitty’s story, Mary interjecting here and there to explain what actually happening.
The girls grew and eventually, on her 21st birthday, Eleanor was Turned. Lord Alistair came down from the ancestral home to do it, having lost too many younger generations at this point to take the risk otherwise. Eleanor was in pain but she survived and Alistair returned home, not before giving Robin a glare that the caveman promptly ignored.
Lord Arthur went out more and more, giving Eleanor time to establish herself as the next head of the household. She would be married soon and expected to produce heirs, or else the estate would pass to Kitty and any children she had. Robin should have known to be wary when he heard Arthur explaining that and even warier when Arthur asked him to protect his girls while he was gone.
It was Mary who found him, to say that Kitty had collapsed and was dying. Robin didn’t know if Mary could smell the death on her or knew from her time as a medicine woman. But when he reached Kitty, she was clearly sick and her pulse slowing by the second.
“Do wes help her?” Mary muttered. “Should she’s Turn?”
Robin looked at Mary, eyes sad. She had been Turned while dying, would she wish the same fate on their young charge. Mary stared back resolutely.
“If you don’ts, I will.”
Robin nodded, kneeling next to Kitty and biting into her forearm. He recoiled as the taste hit him, pulling away.
“Poison. She was poisoned.” Robin shook his head, solidifying his resolve. “Both do it. I take, you give.”
Mary nodded and Robin returned to his task. He could feel the poison in his bones but it wouldn’t kill him. It would take an awful lot to kill him. He finally had taken enough and stepped away, staggering and falling back. Mary pressed her already bleeding palm to Kitty’s lips, looking worriedly at Robin as she did so.
When Arthur returned, he found Robin and Kitty both collapsed on the bed, barely moving. The rest of the coven were surrounding them, looking ready to attack if Arthur got too close. Mary simply told him that Kitty had gotten sick and they had saved her. Arthur had nodded, solemnly and waited until Kitty woke before leaving for Scotland. Eleanor had tried to suggest Kitty go with him but Robin, even in his weakened state, was not one to be crossed.
Kitty’s nephew grew and took over the home, and then his daughter grew. Kitty was ecstatic to have new family members and was convinced that Isabelle was the most incredible niece who adored her and was as close to her as a sister. Robin said nothing, allowing Kitty to keep her innocence as Isabelle bossed her around, making use of Kitty’s strength and speed that she would never possess, even when she was Turned. Isabelle had learned from her father, who had learned from Eleanor, after all.
Shortly after Isabelle’s turning, Robin heard her discussing Kitty with her father. Edgar seemed concerned that the rest of the coven would put a stop to things soon, reminding Isabelle that not only did Robin’s coven had more numbers but any one of them could overpower both Highams with ease. Isabelle had sniffed at that and promised to find a way to keep a helper around the house.
It was a month later that Thomas arrived. Isabelle had been exchanging letters with him and seemed very excited about his arrival, making Kitty gush about engagements and balls and love. When Thomas walked in with his cousin, Robin had to admit he would be a good choice to join the Highams. The boy’s blood was strong and he would most likely survive the Turning - though the Highams weren’t in the habit of Turning their consorts, that trait would pass onto any children he had.
But it seemed Thomas was tricked, challenging another man to a duel in the vain attempt to win Isabelle’s respect. Humphrey told him how Thomas had been deceived and Robin shooed the others into the dungeons and told them to stay away from the bloodshed. After so much time, the temptation was little to him, especially when the Highams kept him so well fed on meats and cheeses. Watching the duel, Robin heard Thomas’ cousin lie about the number of paces and saw Isabelle’s eyebrow quirk. Robin kept his gaze on her as the duel started, wondering if she was going to step in but she did nothing. The gun shot rang out and the crowd dispersed, leaving only Robin and Isabelle standing there. Isabelle knelt next to Thomas and bent over his still trembling form. Robin thought she was crying for a moment and then he smelt the blood. Robin could only stand in shock as Isabelle pressed her bleeding palm to Thomas’ mouth, biting down on his neck with ferocity. Robin wanted to attack her, to show her show a Turning should happen, gentler and kinder and all the ways he hadn’t been when Turning his fledglings.
Thomas couldn’t even scream, she had ripped through his voice box.
Eventually, she stood, watching Thomas convulse on the ground. She turned to Robin with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I won’t be bothering dear Aunt Katherine any more, I’ll have my own little fledgling to do as he’s told. It’s not like he’ll be able to say no.”
She tried to march pass, flinching as he grasped her arm.
“He could die. You can’t leave him.”
“If he dies then he’s no use to me. He’ll have to survive and make his way back himself.” She stepped away, Robin letting her go. “You watch him if you’re so worried. Oh, but if I see him back in the house before he’s useful, I’ll kill him myself.”
And she left, leaving Robin to watch the young man convulse and try to scream. For five days, he watched over Thomas, shading him from the sun and trying to soothe the pain. After the third day, Thomas’ voice had repaired itself and he begged Robin to kill him, to end the pain. All Robin could do was hold his hand. He had told the others not to leave the house until he returned, so he watched the newborn alone.
When Robin helped Thomas back to the house, Lord Alistair was there. Alistair praised his granddaughter’s ingenuity and had grabbed Thomas from Robin’s side, holding his chin like a vice.
“You serve the owners of this house, you understand?” Alistair said, staring into Thomas’ eyes. Thomas squirmed but couldn’t look away. “That is your purpose now.”
Thomas nodded and followed Lord Edgar out of the room with a bowed head. Robin watched him go, feeling for the first time like he was on the back foot with the Highams.
They didn’t see Thomas much after that. He was always there at meal times, serving wine and waiting on Lord Edgar. But he did not talk to Robin, just followed the duties he had been given, running from any room he was in unless explicitly instructed otherwise. Robin expected the Highams were worried he would undo their order.
Isabelle had moved away, married Thomas’ cousin in the end - the blood was still strong but not as strong as Thomas, who had survived his Turning without needing a single drop of blood afterwards. Isabelle’s son arrived to Higham House many years later, allowing Lord Edgar to travel northwards. Life was tense at Button House but it moved on in relative peace, until the fateful day the news arrived.
Higham Castle had burnt down, with every family member inside. Frederick Button would never be Turned.
He tried to force Thomas to do it but Thomas had been ordered long ago to never Turn a human and he could only shake his head at his master’s order. Then Frederick had asked Robin, who had refused instantly. He would not have any blood of Isabelle’s or Eleanor’s in his coven and he almost told the boy how happy he was that his mother had burned. But Thomas had been stood there, naive Thomas who still hung to the hope that Isabelle had Turned him out of love, so Robin had said nothing. Lord Frederick had frowned and invited Robin and the rest of his coven to dinner - to give him a chance to persuade them. Just a chance.
Robin should have seen the trap.
Children of vampires do learn quickly what weaknesses they have.
Robin woke in one of the upstairs rooms with Humphrey, Mary and Kitty. He felt woozy and realised the food must have been drugged in some way. He stood to push the door open and found it unmovable. He slammed against it with all his strength but it wouldn’t budge. Humphrey, having realised his fledglings were not with him, joined him in his efforts but nothing changed. The door was reinforced and they were locked in.
The next hundred years were agony. Thomas was thrown in with them every few months, to join them in starvation and suffering. They were all half feral and it was only Thomas’ recounts of the outside and the eight in the basement that kept them sane. They could not die from lack of food, could not die through any natural means but their strength was so low they couldn’t even attempt to move when the door was opened to ferry Thomas in and out of his punishments. Meat was thrown in every couple of months and although every time they thought they should ration it, every time it was gone in minutes with Robin barely able to keep peace between Humphrey and the girls and they fought over the last scraps.
Then a Lord Button- Geoffrey? Gideon? George? - opened the door, pushing a woman in. She was dressed strangely to their eyes but they didn’t know how much clothing had changed, Thomas wasn’t allowed new things for them to judge off. The woman looked terrified as she saw them, slinking out of the dark.
“George! George, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Fanny, but this can’t get out.”
“I won’t tell anyone! George, please, think of our children, don’t do this!”
“I don’t have any other choice.”
And he pushed her into the room, slamming the door behind him. Robin crawled forward, the smell hitting him before the revelation. George had sliced his wife’s shoulder, a small cut but one that was bleeding freely. The others were all frozen, staring, not at Fanny, but at Robin. Even in the state they were in, the Alpha had final say. They were starving, hadn’t eaten in months and here was blood, blood they hadn’t tasted in decades. But Robin could still tell them no, tell them to hide away, wrestle them back if the temptation became too strong. Robin just had to resist and the woman in front of him would be spared.
But Robin hadn’t eaten in months either.
He Turned her, feeling utterly guilty as he did it and had to growl at the others to force them away as she Turned. As the blood drained, they all came back to themselves, aware of what they had done. Kitty burst into tears, Mary pulling her into a tight embrace. Thomas curled in on himself, rocking back and forth and muttering, flinching when Humphrey tried to offer him comfort. Robin took Fanny to the corner of the room, away from the others so she woke only to him.
“Why would you condemn me to this life?” Was the first thing she said.
Robin’s eyes showed her all the guilty and sorrow he had felt. “You have children.”
One of those children visited not long after, eyes brimming with tears. He yelled for his mother, running into her arms when he saw her. Robin was on edge, ready to stop Fanny from attacking but she didn’t, merely held her son and sobbing with him.
“I swear.” Henry said, pulling away. “They'll pay for this mother, I promise.”
“No, Henry, wait-”
“They didn’t do anything, sir,” Thomas muttered, placing himself in front of Robin. “This was my fault, you can’t hurt them.”
“Not true.” Robin said, pulling Thomas back. Humphrey took him and placed him behind himself and Mary, the two elder vampires forming a wall behind their sire. “All do this.”
“What?” Henry frowned. “You didn’t do this. It was my father who sent my mother to you, who used you as monsters. And I swear, he and his companions will pay. I’ve already had them taken away by the police. Now, I think we need to get you all some food.”
Henry lead them all downstairs, offering a hand whenever they stumbled. Robin smiled, as they walked and beamed when the others joined them, surround Humphrey as he reassured himself they were okay.
Things might work out okay.
The Buttons refurbished the third floor of the house to be entirely for the coven, and turned the dungeons into actual rooms. A contract was drawn up, signing these spaces over to Robin for the next five hundred years (the longest they could get away with), with a clause stating that the contract must be revisited in four hundred and fifty. The coven adapted to being back out in the world, a few of them even taking on jobs in the local town to help with the Button finances. Robin didn’t take up a new job but wandered down to the town every other night, patrolling for any trouble that needed averting. He had missed protecting the townsfolk.
As Fanny’s son grew older, Robin offered to Turn him. He wouldn’t do it without asking, not again. But Henry had just waved him off and asked him to take care of his mother. Robin had nodded and not mentioned it again. He gave the same choice to each new Button that came through.
When the war broke out, the coven had to decide if they would help. Henry and his son were enlisting but they had missed the last war trapped in their prison. Eventually it was decided that, no matter how much good they could do, they could also do an awful amount of bad and they stayed at home. Of course, that became rather awkward when the home because a war base.
It was primarily used for weapons research and Henry’s wife, daughter-in-law and granddaughter moved to the town when the soldiers moved in. The Captain of the group, spotting them as he unloaded one of their trucks, started blustering about civilians not meant to be around, especially women until Mary had picked up one of the large crates that five men had struggled to lift together. The Captain had just stared as the coven made themselves useful, transporting all the equipment inside and setting up their home as a boarding house for the researchers. His Lieutenant just laughed at his side.
They helped where they could, mostly with heavy lifting and running messages back and forth. Robin and Humphrey would jump to the roof to keep an out for oncoming traffic while Mary and Fanny kept their ears open for any spies. Kitty and the downstairs lot were always on hand to help with food deliveries and general house upkeep. And Thomas enjoyed not having a master of Button House around for the first time in two hundred years, and being able to choose where he helped. Robin had never seen him so buoyant and cheerful.
They continued helping with the war and working with the young Captain and his Lieutenant. The Captain always seemed confused when they called him young and they just shook their heads and told him to figure it out. Eventually the Lieutenant left for the front and the Captain was soon drafted to France and the coven were left to keep things stable. The Captain returned, the Lieutenant didn’t.
Shortly after his return, the weapons researched slowed down and the higher ups wanted to shift things to medical research. Which could mean people being poked, prodded and operated on day and night in their house. They didn’t need to explain to the Captain why that couldn’t happen, he just went ahead and refused, ready to convince the Buttons to refuse the use of their house going forward and to return the space to the coven’s use.
Henry returned from the war without his son and little interest in letting the army continue to use his house. The Captain, overseeing the removal of army equipment watched Henry and the rest of the family arrive with a tilt of his head. Humphrey stood beside him, having lifted the last of the boxes onto the last of the vans.
“Your family must miss you.”
“I don’t have a family. Nothing to go back to, really.”
Humphrey glanced past him, to Robin, who gave the smallest of nods before heading inside. He should let Henry know.
“Then why don’t you stay?”
The Captain was different without the war, half lost without something to direct his thinking. He seemed better the days he went to work at the post office but he was still awkward and unsure what to do with himself, especially with little Heather as she got older and older. The others had all seen many children grow through the years but the Captain didn’t have any experience as a human, let alone now that his senses were heightened and his strength was exponential.
However unsure he was of her, Heather understood him easily.
When she was in her forties and her parents had both moved away, she started inviting local groups to host events in the house and grounds, asking the Captain if he could help her with the logistics. The groups all needed specific areas for specific times and he seemed to relish in the challenge, leaving Heather beaming and Robin wrapping her in a proud hug. He’d already offered her the Turn, long ago and she had shook her head, fondly. It was the same fond look she gave the Captain when he offered to help with the incoming scout groups.
It became quickly clear that the Captain’s four decade old military knowledge didn’t help him much with scout activities. But the scout masters were patient teachers and the children loved him, especially the fact that three of them could swing from his arm without him even flinching. The Captain’s downstairs siblings - as Humphrey had taken to referring them as - sometimes joined but were more interested in the general skill classes, especially having lived next to the boiler since it was installed. The others all flitted between different groups and activities, even hosting one or two - many women had requested follow ups to Mary’s gardening course and Fanny’s etiquette talks riled up a lot of discussion.
One sunny day, the Captain was out watching the scouts line up to learn archery. Their leader, a good man named Patrick that the Captain had grown fond of, passed the bow around and started explaining the rules. He had barely got to rule one before the arrow pierced his neck. The Captain had froze, hearing the thud of Patrick’ heartbeat in his ears. Patrick had turned to him, car keys out and the Captain could only shrug, saying he would go an get help.
By the time he got back with Robin and the others, Patrick had tried to drive himself to the hospital and crashed the bus, now starting to fill with flames. Humphrey told his fledglings to get the children out of the way and Fanny sent Kitty and Thomas off to call Heather and the fire department respectively. Mary was staring at the flames as Robin pulled the somehow still breathing man out of the wreck.
“Needs ambulance.” Robin muttered.
“Well, it’s far too late for that, isn’t it?” Fanny nagged. “He’ll be gone far before they can get here, the driveway alone-”
“So, what, we do nothing? Just let him die?” Humphrey frowned.
“Can’t do anything, he can’t choose.” Robin frowned back. He was too busy glaring at his eldest, his didn’t notice Mary bending over Patrick and shaking him softly. He looked up, blinking.
“Thank you. I didn’t want to die in there.”
“What’s your name?”
“Pat, miss.”
“Pat. I’m sorry.”
She lifted his arm to her lips and then he was screaming. Humphrey moved to muffle the screams, even as Mary pushed his hands away to press her own split palm to Pat’s lips. Robin kept his eyes on Mary’s face as she resolutely Turned another, glaring at her sire the whole time. Robin thought of all the people he had Turned and seen Turned and suddenly felt sick as Fanny knelt down to help Humphrey hold Pat still. Robin wondered wherever it was the shaman, all those years ago, that had turned him into a monster or if it was these three in front of him, who he had dragged kicking and screaming into the dark. He knew he had no right now to stop them, to force them not to save someone when they could, for something as pathetic as making him feel a bit less guilty about ripping their souls. He had no right to anything from them.
They moved Pat into the house before his family could arrive. Robin didn’t join them, spending the night in the woods. He stayed there for almost ten years.
The others didn’t say anything to Robin when he returned and he convinced himself that they hadn’t even noticed he was gone. It wasn’t until Humphrey pulled him into a hug and told him not to bloody do that again that the damn burst and they were all gripping him and making him promise to stay. Even Pat gave him a hug and invited him to music club that evening, 5pm sharp. Robin had raised an eyebrow and Geoff from downstairs had insisted it was optional, his lot rarely went. Humphrey and the Captain had then started badgering them to join in more and Kitty started talking over them, explaining exactly how the clubs worked and how wonderful it was for Pat to come up with all of these new ideas. Pat then tried to calm her down a little bit and Fanny stepped in, as was her way, to try to bring some order to the many overlapping conversations - in doing so only adding to the chaos.
Mary came up beside him, bumping her elbow against him.
“Didn’t mean to be’s mad at you.”
“You were mad, you were allowed to be.” He shrugged.
“You saves my life and I’s never said thank you.”
Robin smiled softly. “I killed you, never said sorry.”
Mary chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, resting his chin on her forehead. Giving her a quick squeeze, he moved away, yelling over the noise of his coven. They all stopped, looking at him in shock.
“We start music club now?”
Pat nodded. “Oh yes. Ah, but, you might want to cleaned up, Julian’s coming round this evening. That’s why we’re doing the club a bit early.”
Julian, it turned out, was a member of parliament who had visited for a party conference several years back and then kept visiting. Heather told him over a glass of wine - after Robin had washed off a decade of wildness living - that Julian had been involved in a sec scandal just before his party had been involved in a tax scandal so they decided to kill two birds with one stone and blame both scandals on him. They’d hidden Julian in some quiet little town and, when they weren’t looking, he’d run off to their quiet little town and been a friend of Heather’s ever since. As she pointed out, once you realised someone had vampire in their attic, you knew you could trust them with a secret.
Upon meeting Julian, Robin understood why the others had moved their plans around him. He was charming and loud and had a presence that refused to be ignored. He brought them wine and pressed glasses into their hands, topping up Thomas’ glass with a chuckle that the man couldn’t hold his liquor. When introduced to Robin, he had some comment about impressing fathers that had Heather chuckling and then he sat down to play Robin at chess, somehow managing to be smug even when he lost.
Still, there was something about Julian and the way he looked at the younger members of their group that worried him. He supposed, if he had spent any of the last decade interacting with people, he might have figured it out but he had gone rusty and it took him a moment to realise Julian was missing and so was Thomas.
As soon as he realised, the smell of blood hit him. He was up and moving, the rest of his coven behind him, bursting into the library and skidding to a stop. Julian had Thomas pressed against a wall and Thomas was biting in his shoulder, desperately. There was a knife in Julian’s hand and his arm was bleeding. Anger flared in him and for a moment, Robin was tempted to let Thomas drain Julian dry but Pat stepping forward, eyes full of hunger, pulled him back to his senses.
He stopped Pat, pushing him back towards Mary. The scoutmaster protested by Mary grabbed him, pulling him close in a vice grip. Humphrey had a similar hold on the Captain’s arm as the two youngest strained at the smell.
“Get them out. Keep safe.”
His fledglings nodded, pulling their own after them. Mary only had to whisper to Kitty and she was following, with a sad look aimed at Thomas. Humphrey had more trouble with the Captain, who may have been weaker but was taller and infinitely more stubborn. It wasn’t until Nigel arrived, sensing his sire’s distress, than the Captain was easily lead away. Once they were safely out, Robin walked up to Julian and Thomas, ripping the former away and throwing him to the ground. Thomas snarled, attempting to jump after his prey but Robin grabbed him, holding him against the wall and he struggled and screamed, eyes wild and feral.
“I’m sorry.” Julian muttered, clearly weak. “They wouldn’t let me see my daughter… I was out of options.”
Fanny glared down at him, her gaze softening when she looked at Robin, holding Thomas as the younger man kicked and clawed at him. “Take him away, I’ll deal with this.”
Robin nodded, he would thank her properly later. For now, he grabbed Thomas around the waist, picking him up and ignoring the way Thomas bit into his arm. As he walked out, he noticed Fanny biting down into Julian’s arm - though not, he realised with a smirk, the one that was already bleeding. Fanny would save him but she would make his Turning as painful as possible.
When Julian woke, almost a week later, he was apologetic and tried to explain. The younger ones wouldn't listen to him and the older ones were more focused on following Thomas, who bolted from the room whenever Julian or Heather stepped into it.
A month after his Turning, Julian was gone. A week later, he was back.
This time they listened.
Julian’s wife had, evidently, been having an affair. He didn’t seem upset by that, they’d both had many, but her latest squeeze was the Home Secretary, who had been in charge of Julian taking the blame for the taxes and in charge of Julian’s new accommodations. The Secretary had stopped him calling home, stating it was too much of a risk and refused to tell Julian anything about his daughter. So Julian had given him the slip, made it home himself, only to find all the locks changed. This time though, the locks didn’t matter when he could jump straight to his daughter’s window. Little Rachael had woken, confused and looked at him with wide eyes. As soon as he moved to hug though, she started screaming, calling her dad. Julian had tried to reassure her, to say that he was back and could protect her better than ever but had to scarper into the shadows when the door opened and the Home Secretary came in, picking up Julian’s daughter and holding her tight. Rachael had snuggled into her arms and called him Daddy and that was Julian left, letting the Secretary see him jump from the window without a scratch before he did so.
There had been a small, silent debate between Robin and his fledglings about whether to let Julian say. Humphrey and Mary were firmly against it, seeing their own fledglings crowded around Thomas as soon as Julian walked back into the house. Fanny of course, wanted him to say. Henry had passed barely two years earlier and she knew the pain of losing a child. That left Robin to decide, whatever he said would go.
Robin sat opposite against Julian on the chess table, silently moving his pawn forward.
Julian would stay.
Robin had almost forgotten what it was like to lose someone, but Heather was certainly leaving them soon. He’d missed Henry’s death, living as he was in the woods, though he’d heard the heartbeats in the house lessen and had howled. The sorrow and wish for comfort had almost pulled him out of his exile but, then he’d heard Mary and Pat comforting Fanny and he’d driven himself straight back in.
Heather was different though. He’d seen Heather from a babe and, unlike with Humphrey’s ancestors, hadn’t then been distracted with another babe to watch over. This time he had seen the girl from birth to death and had nothing to soften the blow.
Fanny was distraught and the others didn’t know how to comfort her. It was only having Julian to fuss over that seemed to keep her sane. Julian complained and batted her away, making some sarcastic remark about mother hens. Thomas had confronted Julian about it, his hands trembling the whole time, telling him he should be kinder to Fanny. Julian had nodded, saying he was being kind and Fanny didn’t need someone to listen to her and follow her every word, she needed someone who she could nag and badger and who she knew wouldn’t be going anywhere. Thomas had nodded still confused, as Fanny walked in. She tried to smooth down Julian’s hair and he had spluttered running off with a whine. Five minutes later, he was back with a cup of tea that he handed to Fanny with a smile.
Heather had spoken to Robin many times about what would happen to them all when she was gone. She had considered leaving the house to one of them but considering they were all legally dead, it would have caused more problems than it solved. All she could do in the end was put a clause in her will about Robin’s contract with Henry and hope for the best.
Robin was sat with her, reading the crossword when he heard her heartbeat stutter. He placed a hand on her arm, looking at her imploringly.
“Just ask.”
She chuckled. “I don’t fancy being in my eighties for eternity. I’ve excepted the end. Have you ever thought about yours?”
Robin paused, not wanting to admit anything. He didn’t know how he could end - he knew fire had ended the Highams but he’d walked through fire to save Mary and hadn’t felt anything. Sunlight no longer touched him and he went to church with Heather at Christmas. Exile had shown him that stakes through the heart didn’t work either. Heather understood his silence.
“I just wish I could do more for you.”
“Done plenty.”
“Still, I forget how you old you are sometimes. You look so young to me now.”
Robin broke then, tears flowing freely. He knew the others could hear well enough to know he was crying but he had no more strength. After all this time he thought of the life he could have had, watching his children grow, watch them marry and give him grandchildren to dote over. Three hundred thousand years and he was grieving the life he had lost.
“Oh, you silly thing.” Heather said, when Robin explained, in hushed tones that he still wasn’t sure the others wouldn’t hear. She tugged on his arm, pulling him up on to the bed next to him. He curled up next to her side.
“I lost whole family.” He muttered. “Now lose you.”
Heather chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your family loves you very much, they’d be lost without you.”
“Were fine.”
“No they weren’t, you didn’t see them. At each other’s throats, constantly fighting. They only kept it down because they didn’t want to upset you. I don’t think any of you would truly be able to live without the others, not anymore.”
Robin couldn’t help but nod, thinking of his family. He thought of Humphrey chasing around the younger ones, laughing as they ran circles around him. He thought of the eight downstairs, always learning and growing and showing him something new. He thought of Mary, who met him each morning with a warm embrace and fresh coffee. Of Kitty who beamed whenever she saw him and always had a new wonder to share. Of Thomas who was getting braver and braver each day, sharing his flowery words and allowing himself to sulk. Of Fanny and her nagging and demands, that betrayed how much she really cared. The Captain, his brow always furrowed and a rebuke on his lips but help always offered when asked for. Pat and his clubs, bringing them all together in a way they hadn’t expected. Even Julian, who sat and played chess with him, making lewd references with a wink. He couldn’t imagine life without any of them and he couldn’t bear to leave them entirely. Even when he tried, he hadn’t gone that far.
“See,” Heather smiled. Robin couldn’t see her, curled up as he was, but he could hear her smile in her voice. “You’ll be just fine.”
The others arrived a few minutes later, having heard Robin’s howl. They found him curled up next to Heather. Robin was lifted out of the bed, his fledgings crowding around him and theirs filling in around them. They all held each other close, offering what comfort they could.
Heather Button had died with a smile on her face.
The next couple of weeks passed in relative ease. They had the funeral, they adapted, they moved on. They had to.
Then they heard the car pulling up the driveway and crowded the window. Even the downstairs lot came running up to join, looking down at Button House’s new owners from the top floor. They seemed normal, almost too human. Robin grinned.
Time to meet their new friends.