Chapter Text
“You didn’t have to ask that.” They rolled their eyes, picking up a fry as the older man across them smirked. “What? You gotta have fun, kid.”
If they had the courage, they would have reached across the booth and smacked him- but instead they pointed the same fry at him, ketchup dripping off it. “Yeah, but we would’ve been in Tulsa by now, and the car….*cleaner*.”
Flint hated the grime that came with their current position in life, the blood, the sweat, dirt- wherever John dragged them too there was bound to be disaster waiting. But John had always made sure they both got a hotel room, a chance to clean up- a break before acquiring fresh blood and yet another vehicle to abuse. It would be the road trip of a life-time if Flint wasn’t being held captive by a homicidal maniac.
“I think I liked it better when you were mute.” Ryder sighed, before taking a bite out of his burger. Flint gingerly picked the unopened straw from their plate, eyeing John- seeing he was distracted. They split the top opening, scooting the paper down before taking aim, blowing it.
He caught the assaulting paper package before it could reach his face with one swift motion, before crumpling it in his hand. “Nice try Sparky, a bit pathetic but your aim is getting better.”
They rolled their dark eyes once more, jamming their straw down into their half melted drink. Idly twirling it around, Flint couldn’t help but stare at the gashes across their arms, their wrist- a cold reminder of their life before being picked up *by* Ryder. “It's been six days since you last fed, I’m not risking another night.”
John’s baritone voice barged into Flint’s thoughts, pulling back to their reality of the small, crapty diner they sat in with sappy country music drawled out into the background. Damn, did he need to bring it up now?
“I’m fine, I’ve been without longer.” Flint looked away from his piercing stare, focused on their fries below once more. But John was having none of it. “Yeah, well now you’re my problem-”
He reached into his coat as Flint groaned. “I’m fine! Just, no one has to die tonight.”
They expected their “captor” to scold them again, but instead he pulled out a steel flask and shoved it into their hands. “I’ve gotten smarter, kid, you should give me more credit.”
He stood up, leaving behind cash for their meal as he grabbed Flint’s arm with a firm grip, dragging them out into the darkness once more with the sky above being devoid of stars. The trans am outside waited for them, parked haphazardly out front- John was too confident in his ability to avoid detection, Flint would often think. But instead of getting in, John pulled out a duffle bag, before motioning Flint to follow behind as he made his way towards their motel room for the night. It was just as crapty as the diner, musty, and a bit dirty. Flint had seen worse. John threw the duffle bag onto the bed before turning to face his “problem”.
“Drink it, it's from this morning.” He smirked, before opening the bag to pull out wrinkled, clean clothing. Ryder was getting better at this, even tho he was a *terrible* parent, with an equally as horrible vampire on his hands. How was he supposed to know that the kid was a literal monster? Or the fact that their sire just abandoned his fledgling on the road side after having his way with them. He wasn’t the best choice, but he was the only choice they got or else they would have burnt to a crisp in the desert- or starved, they didn’t like taking human life.
Flint sighed, before gingerly unscrewing the cap. The coppery, acridic scent of blood immediately flooded their senses as their stomach twisted in a knot. They suddenly began to greedily gulp down as blood streamed down their chin, trailing down their pale neck and over the two puncture wounds that were just now starting to scar over. John almost found it endearing, perhaps there was still hope for them yet to take on his “profession”. “Go take a damn shower, I can smell you from over here.”
They dropped the flask, fangs glinting in the yellowed lamp light- their eyes red with slit pupils and scales scattered across their skin. “God damn it Sparky, I said go shower!”
He suddenly barked, prompting Flint to shift back as they shook their head and quickly made their way to the bathroom. Hot water went against their skin as blood pooled into the water, along with today’s filth from a run in with Ryder’s latest victims. More scars were exposed, littering across their body. Gashes, burns, cuts- the dessert was no place for a kid. After finishing, they put on something semi clean and climbed into the awaiting bed, leaving their captor to sit in the corner, counting bullets from one of his revolvers.
“Hey Ryder, do you think we can-” They paused, what were they doing? John Ryder is a serial killer, he isn’t someone they could casually speak to and ask for-
“Yeah, I got something in the bag from Tuscon.”
Their eyes widened, going to sift through the bag until pulling out a VHS tape. “You didn’t- you did!” Flint grinned as they scrambled to put the VHS in, sitting back down on the bed as Friday the 13th flashed across the screen.
He allowed himself to smile, to feel content for the moment. Even if he was doing a shitty job at being a vampire’s surrogate, at least he managed to keep them both alive *for this long*. Too bad that the real sire was close on their heels.