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Tommy didn’t know exactly where he’d gone wrong.
He’d been with the Hunters for almost half his life. They’d taken him when he was only about 10 years old. A lonely, injured, and starving orphan. His body had been mangled, nearly, after a close call with something non-human. He didn’t know what it was exactly. He just knew that it had wanted him dead, and he’d only escaped in one piece because of Dream.
The Hunter had happened upon them purely by chance and jumped in the middle of the “fight”. He’d saved Tommy’s life and offered him the opportunity of a lifetime. A warm bed and two meals a day guaranteed. All Tommy had to do was swear himself as a future Hunter.
It had taken two years of education and training before he’d started his official apprenticeship under Dream. He’d been with the man since then. Five years. Five years of loyalty and hard work, of looking up at the man as if he held the key to the universe.
And for what?
All it took was one accusation for Dream to turn on him.
Tommy wasn’t even sure who his accuser had been. It didn’t really matter, but surely it had to be someone close to Dream or himself. Dream wouldn’t just believe anybody with a pointing finger.
Regardless, Dream had believed them. He didn’t even give Tommy a chance to defend himself before declaring him a ‘traitor to our Godly cause’. He’d been quick to denounce him as his apprentice and set the other Hunters, Tommy’s friends, against him.
It was nothing other than luck that had gotten him as far as this. He’d barely managed to escape the hideout before Dream’s ‘backup’ arrived. It meant he had a small headstart, at least, in the chase through the woods. His limbs were thoroughly battered by branches and thorns. His clothes left torn and tattered.
He could feel his body failing him as he tried to push himself further. Their footsteps were loud behind him, gaining quickly. An arrow whizzed past his head. He could swear the feathered tail brushed against his face.
His luck seemingly ran out as his foot caught on something, sending him tumbling down a steep incline. He landed hard on the rough forest floor. Just as he managed to push himself up, a hard force met his shoulder, knocking him back down. He had a moment to wonder what had happened before the pain set in and he realized he’d been shot.
There was an arrow embedded in his shoulder and by god did it hurt.
He was so caught up in his head and his pain that he didn’t register the cheering or approaching footsteps until a boot connected with his side. A scream ripped out of him as the arrow was torn out of his flesh, followed by another harsh stomp.
The rest was a blur of pain and shock. He was sobbing, screaming by the end of it. He wasn’t even sure when the group finally left him. The same group he had looked up to for years. The same group he had followed around like a lost duckling, copying what they did and imagining a future where that was him. These people had saved him, raised him, and now they were the ones that would end him.
Tommy could barely breathe as his sobs died into weak cries of pain and mourning. He could feel his lungs seizing as they struggled to take in air. He couldn’t help but fall into the all-consuming feelings of fear and despair.
He didn’t know how much time had passed. The sky was definitely darker than he remembered it being what felt like only a few minutes ago. It felt like some higher being was playing a cruel joke on him as he was forced to wait to die. His eyes slipped closed against his will. He hoped death would take him soon.
—
There was somebody in his territory. A human. Grian had felt them enter, followed by a group of about 10 or so. He’d decided to leave them alone, assuming them to be teenagers looking for a thrill by sneaking into the “forbidden” forest.
But then they had left, all but one. And Grian’s instincts would not settle down from their constant chatter of intruder-danger-intruder-find them-danger.
He’d done his best to ignore it until they left but it had been too long, and his instincts grew too loud. With an annoyed sigh, he threw on his coat and boots and left his home to find whoever was trespassing on his land.
It only took a minute or two for him to smell it. Blood. Human blood. He sped up, moving at an inhuman speed to reach what he realized was a crime scene. There was a man lying face down on the blood-soaked ground. He was clothed in a familiar black and silver uniform, one Grian was all too familiar with.
A Hunter.
Any sympathy for the man was gone in a second. He considered turning around and leaving him to die alone and hopefully in pain. But he was curious, and maybe a little hungry.
He approached him slowly, confident that this wasn’t a trap but still hesitant to be so close to a Hunter. The man let out a noise of pain as he was turned on his back, and if Grian’s heart was still beating he swore it would stop in that moment.
This wasn’t a man. This was a child, no older than 18 or 19. He was covered in shallow wounds and darkening bruises. His nose appeared shattered, and his arm was bent at a horrifying angle. It seemed most of the blood was coming from a deep wound in his shoulder, likely from an arrow or dagger.
There were older injuries too. Through his tattered sleeves, Grian could see several fading handprints. His knuckles were heavily scarred as if they’d been busted open repeatedly. Grian could almost hear the whistle of a ruler or switch as they came down on the boy's hands.
A strangled gasp brought his attention to the kid’s face. Despite his thin physique, the last bits of baby fat still clung to his cheeks. His eyes were a striking blue, wide with fear and confusion.
What?
His eyes were open and staring directly into Grian’s.
The kid let out another strangled noise, mouth opening and closing like he was trying to speak, though nothing intelligible left him. A shaky hand reached towards Grian. Without thinking, Grian took it in his own hand. The kid let out a shallow sigh.
His eyes rolled back.
He was going to die.
With his free hand, Grian brushed the boy’s blond hair out of his face, shuddering as he leaned into it even in his unconscious state. It was as if he had been waiting for company before he passed. Probably too scared to die alone.
Grian made a decision in that moment. He had lived alone for a very long time and it was time to change that. His instincts were already purring at the idea of having his own fledgling. It had been several centuries since he’d been around one, not since Gem and Peal had been turned one after the other, and he had to admit he missed when his baby sisters were, well, babies.
He gently moved the kid into a sitting position, wincing at the weak noises of pain. He took just a moment to breathe in the scent of blood before biting into flesh. The blood sluggishly filled his mouth. It was sugar and citrus, vanilla and lemon. The boy jolted ever so slightly as the turning venom entered his system.
Grian pulled away and licked over the wound to close it. He couldn’t help how his hand shook as he raised his wrist to his mouth and sliced it with his canines before bringing it to the other’s lips.
Even unconscious, the kid attached himself to the limb immediately, drinking desperately. It took several moments for him to slow down and fall into his turning coma. Grian scooped him up in a gentle but firm hold, turning back towards his home. It would be a few weeks before he woke up, at least.
The bond finally clicked into place, followed by
“Grian-what?-baby-love-fledgeling-what?”
Shit.
He’d forgotten about Xisuma.
—
Tommy woke up slowly and surrounded by warmth. That was the first sign that something wasn’t right. The Hunter’s barracks dorms were incredibly drafty. He’d spent many nights shivering under thin blankets, sometimes huddling together with the other apprentices during the winter.
There was a throbbing pain in his jaw, and his body ached. With more effort than he’d like to admit, he managed to force his eyes to open, blinking rapidly against the dull lights. Even with his blurry vision, he knew he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
The ceiling was made of dark wooden panels. The dorms were concrete on all sides. There was a canopy above him and not one of leaves like he distantly expected to see. No, this was a rich crimson fabric that likely cost more than anything Tommy had ever seen in his life.
A soft shuffling noise had him whipping his head to the side.
A pair of dark eyes met his.
Tommy screamed and tried to throw himself off the bed, only to realize that he wasn’t on a bed to begin with. The canopy wasn’t hung over a mattress and bedframe, but rather an extensive pile of pillows and thick blankets piled into a large ring shape on the floor.
It was comfortable, he had to admit, as he pressed himself to the edge of the ring.
The man before him was… unusual. He looked fairly young, probably in his mid-twenties, with dark blond hair and eyes that seemed pitch black. Tommy couldn’t tell where his irises started and his pupils ended.
The man pushed forward slightly, tilting his head.
“It’s okay, fledgling. You’re safe. I promise.” His voice was gentle and melodic.
As he moved forward again, the light caught his strange eyes and illuminated them red.
Red.
This was a vampire, Tommy realized. He was in the nest of a vampire and said the creature was staring him down. He instinctively reached for the stake he kept strapped to his thigh at all times only to discover it gone.
He wasn’t wearing his uniform, either. Instead, he was wearing a pair of soft trousers and a plain white nightshirt, made of silk or some similar material. The vampire had changed his fucking clothes.
Tommy flinched as it made another slow movement towards him.
“Get- get back! I’ll kill you, get back!” He attempted to shout, though it came out more of a raspy croak.
The creature laughed at him.
“Oh you’re a spirited one, aren’t you?” His tone shifted into something unnaturally smooth, “Calm down, fledgling. There’s no reason to be afraid. You are safe here. You are mine, and I take care of what is mine.”
Tommy could feel as something washed over him, forcing his fears down. It was then that he noticed his lack of hammering pulse. Had he even been breathing? He didn’t think so. If he could be, he would be panicking again.
Instead, something clicked in his brain. Something content.
‘Calm-Sire-Love?-Want’
The vampire made an almost cooing noise, forcing Tommy further out of his logic.
‘Love-Love-Fledging-Good-Love’
He barely registered the vampire closing the distance between them, only leaning into the gentle hands that pressed against his face.
“There you are love, nice and sweet for me, huh? Don’t worry, you can be as feisty as you want after you get some more rest.”
Tommy blinked, not registering the words in the slightest. All he knew was his sire was speaking to him, gently pulling him back to the center of the nest and pushing him to lie down.
‘Sire-Want-Hungry-Love-Hungry’
“Oh you would be hungry, wouldn’t you? Don’t worry, love, we’ll get you nice and full in just a second”
Tommy whined as he was shifted again. This time he was propped up slightly against his sire. His protests ended as a frankly delicious scent appeared next to him, making his mouth fall open on instinct. He faintly registered the amused laugh as something was pressed into his sore mouth.
A delicious something filled his mouth, sweet and faintly metallic. Tommy didn’t even register the way he clung to the source desperately trying to suck out more of the substance.
A hand threaded into his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp. He couldn’t help the way he began to slow down, his eyes drooping and consciousness slipping away from him.
“There we are love, that’s it. Eat up and rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up again, I promise.”
Tommy drifted off the steady flow of ‘Love-Love-Fledgeling-Safety-Love’.