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Thomas didn’t like being a monster. He supposed most people wouldn’t like being a monster but that was the lot he’d had in both life and death.
His parents hadn’t called him a monster, exactly, but they definitely considered him beastly in his own way. A fourth son when they’d wanted a daughter they could marry off, a son who wasn’t even good enough to enlist in the military for a good wage. No, Thomas instead had busied himself with poetry and art. Where his parents had wanted nothing more than a good, strong son or a beautiful, romantic daughter, they found themselves with a child halfway between those ideals and were completely unsatisfied. Still, when he reached the right age, they tried to find him a match. A woman with no older brothers, his father had insisted. Someone he could inherit a lot of money from, to pass on to his children.
Thomas thought nothing of money and stately homes. Thomas wanted love and beauty and poetry but, when he mentioned this to his father, he had been laugh out of the room. Then he met Isabelle and all his dreams came through. Her family was rich, established and important, even having their own castle in the Scotland Highlands. She had no older siblings and would inherit the entirely of her families estate. And, mostly importantly, she truly loved Thomas.
Isabelle sent him letters every week, talking of how she missed him and wanted him, wishing he was with her and longing to be in his arms. Thomas had dared to dream he would find the love that he craved and he wanted to rub the proof of love in his father’s face. Proof that his poetic waxing and daydreaming of romance was important and not frivolous as his parents had often said. He thought many times of how he would tell his parents this, how he would sit them down and tell them he was to be married to a girl who adored him. He thought this until Isabelle killed him.
Of course, Thomas would swear for a hundred years that Isabelle hadn’t truly killed him. She hadn’t meant him any harm, she had been trying to save him, wanted him to live. The pain beyond imagination wasn’t her fault, it was simply the only way she could save him, it was an act of love even if it hurt. The others he told this to looked at him with sad eyes and tried to ask him why - if she had been trying to save him - she hadn’t stayed as he burned in the sun, only saved from dying again because Robin was there. But, obviously, she couldn’t stay, she was the lady of the house and had duties to attend to. Isabelle had loved him and he would not betray that love by thinking harshly of her.
Isabelle didn’t stay long at Higham House after she introduced him to grandfather. The grandfather, Lord Alistair, had looked at Thomas with glee in his eyes and made the younger man think, for one shining moment, that he was about to be welcomed into the Higham family with open arms. But Lord Alistair had grabbed Thomas by the chin, holding him at arm’s length like some specimen in a zoo. He turned to Isabelle, congratulating her on her ingenuity and Thomas had felt a swell of pride for beloved intelligence, even if he didn’t know what she had done. Then Alistair’s grip had tightened and Thomas was given the order.
Serve the owners of the House. That was his purpose.
He felt the words sink into his bones, an itch that spread all over him without any way to scratch it. Lord Alistair had led him out of the room, along with Isabelle and her father. Thomas had tried to glance back at Robin, but was barely able to see the heartbreak in his eyes when Lord Edgar told him to keep his eyes forward. He nodded, doing as he was told. It was only right, he did want Isabelle’s father to like him after all, he should do as he was bid.
Isabelle moved away, marrying Francis and settling elsewhere. Thomas asked several times if she would visit until he was told not to mention her again. He stopped, to do otherwise would be rude, and when her father grew angrier, demanding more assistance, Thomas stepped up without complaint. He reassured himself that this what he should do. Living in Higham House as long as he had, it was only right that he assist the Lord of the Manor.
He didn’t think about his family. He’d been told to put them out of his mind and it was easier that way.
There were other rules, some given by Lord Edgar and followed quickly, some from Lord Alistair and constant, hanging over him every day. Lord Edgar told him each morning not to talk to Robin that day and Thomas nodded. Thomas knew what he was, what everyone in the household was and Lord Edgar had said that he needed to be treated differently because he was weaker, easier to break and Thomas assumed that was why he was to stay away from Robin and the older vampires. Besides, it was not proper to argue with a man in his own home, especially when he’d been told not to speak back.
Still, he watched the other members of the house, Higham and Bone alike, leave the house to feed but he had to stay. Occasionally, Lord Edgar would bring him something - someone - home, a vagrant or orphan that had looked at the Lord wrong. He would throw them at Thomas’ feet and tell Thomas to drink. He was hungry, so of course he did. He told himself that he would have killed the vagrants regardless of what Lord Edgar said so it didn’t matter. Better to be a monster of his own accord than at someone else’s insistence.
Slowly, as he became more monstrous in Lord Edgar’s eyes, he also became a better servant. Enough years had passed that he knew he could never return to Thorne Manor and really he didn’t think of his family much any more. They couldn’t have missed him, they hadn’t even visited. Surely Lord Edgar would have told him if they visited. So, instead, he put his thoughts into making sure that the household was run correctly. He protected Lord Edgar - the man’s personal monster - and when his grandson arrived to take up his inheritance, Thomas had been glad to see Frederick and gladder still to protect him and serve him. Of course he was glad, not only was this Isabelle’s son but his own blood as well. Frederick didn’t seem to care about his relation, wouldn’t acknowledge it but Thomas understood he couldn’t be seen favouring the man who poured him wine and ran his errands over the other members of staff. It just wasn’t proper. Frederick gave him orders and Thomas nodded and followed them quickly, determined to make Lord Frederick’s life easier. He had so loved the boy’s parents and knew they both loved him in return. He would protect and obey their boy with all the strength he had. Out of love, not any obligation.
Soon, Lord Edgar headed north, to the family’s castle. Isabelle and Francis visited briefly the newly christened Button House before he left, to travel to the Highlands with him. Thomas had wanted to see them but there was far too much work to be done around the house. Thomas had understood it was quite impossible for him to see them, that he had to stay out of the way. It was selfish of him to want to see them when there was work to be done. Besides, Frederick had suggested they wouldn’t want to see them and he should stay hidden while they were visiting. He could only assume that the scars he still bore from his Turning would upset them and didn’t question his young cousin any further
When they left, Frederick full took control of the household affairs. Thomas had slightly hoped that Lord Edgar’s departure would allow Frederick to stop keeping his cousin at arm’s length for appearance sake but instead, Frederick had reinforced the distance. Thomas said nothing and continued about his duties. Mary and Humphrey tried to talk to him but Frederick pulled him away each time with a new job that must be urgent. Why would Frederick insist on it if it wasn’t urgent?
“I don’t know why you bother talking to them, Thorne.” Frederick frowned. “I can’t forbid you, not permanently - I don’t want to upset the ancient one completely - but still. Do stay away from them, or I’ll start to think your loyalty was waning.”
Frederick grinned then, a predatory smile. Thomas, for a brief moment, forgot that the man in front of him had yet to be Turned. His grandfather would be arriving soon to change that.
“Besides.” Frederick continued, shaking Thomas from his thoughts. “My mother is arriving soon and I’d hate to tell her that you’ve disappointed me.”
Thomas could only frown, not sure what he had done to be a disappointment. He was about to voice this but Frederick rolled his eyes and told him to get on and make sure everything was ready for the evening meal. Thomas left quickly for the kitchen, not wanting to delay. Besides, the cooks had always liked him, offering him food as he rushed about and making sure he was okay. Perhaps they just didn’t want to be food themselves.
One of the basement dwellers had said that once, meaning it as a joke, when Thomas had been explaining to Humphrey how he didn’t care that Frederick wouldn’t talk to him because he had his friends in the kitchen. Thomas had ignored the comment though had entered the kitchen with trepidation from then on. He was a monster, it was unstable to be scared of him, but they were not monsters. They were kind.
Later that evening, as Lord Frederick sat down for supper, an urgent message arrived from Higham Castle. Thomas delivered it without delay though later wished he had waited until Frederick had had a chance to drink more wine. Perhaps a few more glasses of alcohol would have softened the blow of learning his entire family had died in a fire.
Thomas had tried to be reassuring but Frederick had snapped at him to be quiet and, of course, Thomas didn’t want to interrupt when his dear cousin was mourning. Then, Frederick had turned to him and demanded that Thomas must Turn him, now, and Thomas realised he had misunderstood the Lord’s grief. It was not for his parents or anyone else in his family, it was for himself. Frederick was sad he would never be what Thomas was, would never be a monster. Thomas had only shook his head, unable to speak. Lord Alistair had put that rule in his heart long ago, to never Turn a human. Lord Alistair’s rules overtook anything else.
Frederick ranted and raved, hitting Thomas in an attempt to make him attack. But, even if the blows had hurt Thomas, he wouldn’t have responded, he couldn’t hurt the owner of Button House, much less dear Isabelle’s boy. So, he just stood there, allowing Lord Frederick to beat out his frustrations. It didn’t take him long to realise that Thomas wouldn’t Turn him and so he left, heading straight to Robin’s door.
Robin, who had some feral ancientness about him that made Thomas want to both flinch away and huddle to his side, had taken one look at Frederick and grinned like some sort of wild animal whose prey had stumbled into his lair. Thomas looked down and away, worried that grin would be turned on him.
“No.”
Robin shut the door on Frederick’s face. The Lord had screamed - understandably - slamming at Robin’s door in a vain attempt to make him open it again. After some time, Robin had opened the door, only to pick Frederick up with one had and walked him down the corridor as he struggled, dropping him down in a heap on the other side of the house. Thomas watched all this with confusion but didn’t say anything as Robin walked back past him, patting his shoulder as he went. Thomas almost followed the older vampire, if Frederick hadn’t told him to follow to the library. When there, Frederick pulled out one of his mother’s old books, rifling through it quickly. When he found the correct page, his eyes glinted wickedly.
“Yes, this will show those beasts.” He ripped out the page and handed it to Thomas. “Give this to the kitchen, tell them they are to make a feast for myself and the elder members of our household. This recipe must be made and added to every meal, except my own. Do you understand?”
Thomas nodded, taking the paper. He didn’t read it, knowing by now that there were likely more instructions to come.
“Good. Don’t speak a word of this to the other vampires in the house.”
Thomas nodded. He was not a traitor, he would be loyal.
Two days later, the vampires were sealed away in their new cages. Many of the rooms of the house had long been designed to contain a feral vampire, in case a Turned Higham couldn’t be controlled. Thomas hadn’t known this and it seemed neither had the others, as they screamed and slammed themselves against the walls. Thomas had looked to Frederick with confusion.
“Oh, don’t worry, Thomas.” He chuckled. “I’ll make sure they’re plenty fed. I’m sure there will be plenty of people who deserve to die that way. But, I can’t exactly let them roam free, so, for now, I guess we’ll just leave them to rot.”
The other vampires stayed in their prisons for the next hundred years. Lord Frederick married, had children and Thomas did all that was asked of him to keep the children safe and happy. Sometimes, the children demanded that Thomas be sent away and Frederick and his wife were more than happy to oblige, locking Thomas upstairs with the others. Thomas wondered if Frederick was hoping that Robin and his brood would be feral and angry enough to rip him apart but then he reminded himself that the Buttons liked having him around. He was useful, if nothing else. Their little monster, ready to obey whatever order he was given.
Frederick grew and died, his children grew and died, Thomas continued on, the servant of Button House. He stopped excusing his obedience as loyalty and started to wonder what he had done to make Francis hate him so. His cousin had taken away the woman he loved and forced her to do this to him, he must have done. Thomas had to believe that Isabelle had loved him, that she always had - why else would she have kept him alive?
The stretches between his time in the attic became shorter and shorter. As the Buttons ingratiated themselves in high society, their decades old servant became an awkward sight to explain away. Thomas would do as he was told - it was what he did best - but often they wanted him gone so they did not have to explain him if he said something out of place. Of course, if someone else said something out of place, they would lock them in with Thomas and tell him to eat. Thomas would be draining the insulter before the order was finished. He was a monster after all, it was what monsters did.
New members of the family didn’t take well to Thomas. Lord George’s young wife, a woman marrying to save her father’s business, was repulsed by Thomas’ presence and refused to give him orders. George made it clear to Thomas that he must be doing something awful for Fanny to scorn him as a servant. Eventually, when Fanny refused for the twentieth time to give him an order, George had thrown him in the vampire’s cage - telling him that, if he couldn’t be useful, he would rot with the rest.
The others, scared and hungry but still kind, had crowded around him to offer him comfort but Thomas had fled from them, knowing that allowing them close would anger George, would be taken as a betrayal. Thomas couldn’t allow himself to trust the others. Even if they were the same as him, they would hurt him. So he shied away from his own kind, in the vain hope that George would see this and forgive him.
Then Fanny was thrown to the monsters and the monsters did as they were wont to do. They devoured her.
Thomas had woken from the haze of feeding to a horrible sinking in his stomach. Fanny was alive - as alive as she could be when she was like him - but he had still attacked her, had broken one of Lord Alistair’s rules. He curled in on himself, terrified of what would happen to him now. He felt Humphrey’s hand on his shoulder but flinched away, certain the other man must hate him now. Humphrey settled beside him but didn’t try to comfort him anymore.
When young Henry entered, clearly distraught by the loss of his mother, Thomas’ heart shattered all over again. Thomas had always liked Henry Henry wasn't rude to him, did make demands of him, had even argued with George about the way Thomas was treated. But no matter how kind Henry was, his mother was dead and Thomas couldn’t allow the others to be blamed. His was his job to protect the owners of Button House and he should have been downstairs to protect Fanny, to stop her discovering whatever secret George deemed so important to kill his wife over. If Thomas hadn’t been the monster he was, he could have saved Henry’s mother.
Henry had brushed him off when he tried to take the blame, placing all the fault on his father. Henry led them all downstairs, given them proper food and real beds to sleep on, and Thomas hadn’t known what to do with himself. Henry had promised he didn’t have to obey any rules again, that he was free but Thomas had locked eyes with Robin across the room and had known that wasn’t the case. He did not get to be free while Button House had an owner. As long as someone alive lived in the manor, he would be the monster following their every command.
Henry was a better master than his ancestors had been. When he truly realised that Thomas didn’t have a choice in obeying, he became very conscious of the way he spoke, even more so than Robin was with his own fledglings. Everything Henry said to him was a question or a suggestion, allowing Thomas to say no. It was pleasant but somewhat unnerving - too long with the Buttons made one weary of misinterpreting orders, especially when they didn’t grip his heart and force him to obey. He knew eventually, Henry would get frustrated at him not understanding and return to commanding him again, and then Thomas would know where he stood.
He lived happily, obeying Henry Button. He fell into an easy routine with the other members of the coven and soon found himself liking who he was in their company. They didn’t let him get away with sulking all day but they also protected him when Henry said the wrong thing or when Thomas thought he had done something wrong. He took to helping Mary cook meals, learnt new ways to help Kitty style her hair, debated with Humphrey about the latest literature.
When the soldiers came, Henry and his family left and Mary pointed out that none of the current occupants owned Button House. Thomas had revelled in that and helped out wherever he could - entirely of his own accord. He ferried information back and forth across the house and grounds - not as helpful as the others, heading to the village for supplies and information but Thomas had been forbidden from leaving the grounds. Occasionally, the others would bring back a spy or a traitor and Thomas would help them with the dispatching. But mostly, he busied himself about the house, as he had always done.
The war ended and their family grew, the Captain of the soldiers staying with little hesitation. Thomas was surprised to find himself not disappointed when the Buttons returned and Thomas found himself soon grieving for Henry’s passing. Young Heather grew older and started running events, Thomas helping where he could. Another joined them, in far worse circumstances than the last and then Robin left.
Robin leaving brought a sadness over the whole house and everyone became angrier with each other. Thomas often found himself between two warring sides, the combatants changing each day as each vampire riled up the others. Thomas, like everyone else, was incredibly grateful for Pat and his new clubs keeping them all occupied. He was certain Fanny and Mary would have ripped each other apart otherwise. No one said anything - they knew Robin would still be able to hear and, even if he had left no one wanted to upset Robin - but they were always angrier, on edge.
New groups came through the house and the family learnt how to be normal, socialising with politicians and fundraisers alike. Thomas enjoyed having people back in the house, even if it put him in mind of the parties the Buttons used to have, when he was forced to stand at the side and obey any order thrown at him. But Heather made a point to inform him that he absolutely did not have to obey anyone else in the room, if he didn’t want to.
One of the politicians ended up sticking around and Thomas found himself drawn to Julian’s company. As much as he loved his family, he knew any one of them could make him do what they wanted - maybe not in the bone shaking way Heather and Robin could but their power far outmatched his and if he argued with one, the others would be on their side. He was the outsider after all, the one who carved himself a little hole into their lives and slotted himself in without preamble. They didn’t seem to care, welcomed him with open arms, but still. It wouldn’t do to push his luck.
But Julian, Julian was the same as him, in a way. Separate from the others, different and a reveller at heart. Thomas found himself laughing more when Julian was around, handing him drinks and patting him on the back, as if he was an old friend. Most importantly, Julian couldn’t tell him what to do. Even if he tried, Thomas would just laugh him off and they would go back to their wine and cards, joking with the others and pretending that Robin wasn’t missing.
When Robin did return, Thomas was the last to embrace him. Not because he didn’t want to, he had missed Robin dearly, but because he had seen all of Robin’s fledglings flocking to his side once Humphrey had hugged him and he didn’t want to intrude. Fanny had eventually grabbed him, pulling him forward and into the middle of the hug. Robin had rested his head on Thomas’ shoulder and everything had seemed like it was going to be okay.
Then Thomas had allowed himself to be a monster and nearly ruined everything.
If he was an angrier man, he might have blamed Julian for what happened but Thomas had spent too long being a fault for everything that went wrong in Button House to shake the habit.
They’d been drunk, both of them, or at least Thomas had thought they were. Julian had kept topping up his glass and Thomas had assumed he was refilling his own as well. Then suddenly the two of them were in the library and there was no one else. Thomas squinted slightly at Julian.
“How’s it happen then?” Julian said, leaning on a nearby desk. “The whole Turning business.”
Thomas frowned but shrugged to himself. It couldn’t hurt to tell him, especially as Thomas couldn’t Turn anyone anyway. “It’s all about an exchange of blood. I take yours, feed you some of mine. At least, I would if I were able to do such a thing.”
“You could, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”
Thomas opened his mouth to explain all the ways that wasn’t possible when he noticed the flash of metal in Julian’s hand. He pressed it against his opposite palm, staring at Thomas the whole time. Thomas started to shake as the smell of blood hit him, gripping the edge of the wall behind him, trying to hold himself back.
“Come on, Thomas.” Julian said, as if it was all a joke. But he was walking forward and soon was right in front of Thomas, who stared at him with wide eyes.. He raised the knife back to his forearm, drawing more blood. “Just a quick bite and then I’m one of you.”
He pushed Thomas against the wall and Thomas held his head back, holding his breath.
“Now, Thomas. Aren’t you hungry?”
That’s what Frederick had said, when he sent someone into Thomas’ den to be devoured. It was an easy instruction to follow and Thomas had always been an obedient monster.
Thomas bit down on Julian’s shoulder, drinking savagely. Julian kept his pressed against the wall but it didn’t matter, Thomas would drain him soon, taking his blood and filling the pit of hunger in his stomach. He hadn’t fed like this in so long and he savoured the taste, letting it flow down his chin as Julian began to splutter, trying to push him away. But Thomas just bit down harder, not willing to stop now he had his prey so close. He could sense others in his peripheral but it didn’t matter, not when he was hungry and doing was he was always told to do.
Then Julian was pulled away from him and there were hands on his shoulder, keeping him pressed to the wall. Thomas couldn’t take in who was in front of him, couldn’t take in anything apart from the blood on the floor in front of him, the food he was being kept from. He could hear Julian’s heartbeat thudding in his ears and he strained against the person holding him, biting at the closest bit of skin as they lifted him and carried him away. He screeched and bit and tried to get out of the grip but the other didn’t budge, pulling him into his room. Thomas was thrown to the ground without ceremony and tensed up to attack again.
“Stop.” Robin said, the order stopping Thomas’ dead heart. “Don’t move.”
Thomas was frozen, breathing heavily. As he was forced to stay still, his senses came back to him and he realised what he had done. Robin turned away from him, locking the door and sighing, tension melting from his shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” Thomas chocked out. “I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry Robin, he was bleeding and I-”
“Quiet.” Robin growled, turning to Thomas with a fury in his eyes. “Stupid boy. Why do it, why not ask for help? We would hear, we would come. Tell me.”
“I didn’t think, I couldn’t think. He was there and he told me to do it, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Not your job to stop you, my job to stop you. I am sire, I protect.”
“But you’re not my sire, are you? Even if we could trace my lineage back to yours, it’s so separate that it makes no difference. I’m not a real member of this family, and you all know it.”
Something flickered in Robin’s eyes and Thomas gulped, certain he was about to die. He closed his eyes, waiting for the attack to arrive. Instead, he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulders, drawing his forward. His head hit something solid and then arms came around his back, holding his softly and rubbing small circles into his shirt.
“Oh.” Was all he could muster when he realised what was going on.
“You are part of this family.” Robin said. His voice was quiet but right next to Thomas’ ear. He could hear all the sadness Robin put into this words. “Never think not.”
“But-”
“No. You mine, and Mary’s and Humphrey’s and all’s. We stay with you, we protect you. Not going anywhere.”
Thomas started to shake, sobbing quietly into Robin’s shoulder as the older vampire held him close. He’d wondered why they hadn’t left when they were released, confused why they would stay in a place that had given them so much strife. He’d never considered they might be staying because of him.
“I am sorry. I didn’t want to hurt him but he wouldn’t go away and he…”
“You okay. He not hurt you again.”
Robin’s arms tightened around Thomas, until Thomas stopped crying and leant away. Then Robin smiled at him, eyes proud and caring and Thomas had to smile back. Robin helped him to his feet and led him downstairs. The others flocked to him instantly, Mary wiping his chin clean and Humphrey ruffled his hair. Kitty kissed his cheek and Pat and the Captain patted his shoulder. The downstairs lot pulled him into a group hug and he could feel the others joining in. Eventually they pulled away and Heather stepped forward, holding his face in her hands.
“You’re going to be okay, Thomas. I promise.”
He nodded, feeling the words settle into his bones. Julian would return the next month and the others would keep him away from Thomas, standing between them until Thomas quietly asked them to stop. Even then, even two decades later, they were wary of leaving Thomas alone, constantly reassuring him and themselves that he was okay and they would hear if anything went wrong. Julian himself started watching out for Thomas, in his own way, becoming alert to the loud noises that set him on edge and quietly reassuring him that it wasn’t a gunshot. He wasn’t all that bad, in the end, Thomas thought.
The Thorne’s had thought he was a beast and the Button’s decided he was a abomination. But his new family didn’t care, they still loved Thomas, even at his most monstrous.
And he loved them.