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Daniel Molloy, a few months into his vampiric existence, was attacked by something from within that he had foolishly thought he didn't have to worry about anymore.
He and Armand were staying in an apartment together in Manhattan. Armand had gotten into the habit of dragging Daniel to different art galleries in the area to peruse and pretend to drink wine with people. It wasn't hunting as much as it was examining the menu, learning the gossip, and keeping themselves in the loop with the goings on in town. Armand liked it, so Daniel came along, even though he secretly would rather be clubbing again.
There was a wine event at the Guggenheim, a fifteen minute walk from their apartment. As they approached the building, Daniel marveled in the fact he could hear the soft hum of heartbeats inside, lulled by the alcohol. The rhythmic sound grew as they began to circle up the Guggenheim, soaking in the environment.
Daniel still had a few years left to be himself, so tonight he was Daniel Molloy, disgraced investigative journalist turned hack-fiction writer, suffering from Parkinson's and dying from HIV. If someone spotted him, he'd pretend to listen to their complaints, and really be sizing them up to see if they were a tasty morsel. He orbited Armand as they glided up the curves of the museum, the elder vampire picking apart each piece with his meticulous amber gaze. Daniel liked watching Armand do this. He liked to reduce things to their atoms and then piece the whole thing back together. He was like this with people too.
Nearing the top of the museum's main hall, Daniel and Armand stood (with about five inches of breathing space) in front of Bani Abidi's "The Boy Who Got Tired Of Posing." The two held wine glasses for show, even though Daniel couldn't smell anything interesting about the drink. Armand looked sympathetically at the boy, a longing Daniel could feel in his chest. Maybe that was a maker/fledgling dynamic Louis hadn't told him about. Armand looked like he wanted to climb into the frame and rescue the boy, carrying him out of the frozen image and to a place where he could grow up.
And then it attacked Daniel. A vertigo effect made the painting stretch out, bending away from him. He felt his head tip. His eyes grew wider, hooded by his furrowed brow. He caught a glimpse of Armand; he was saying something to him, but the words weren't making sense. They lacked any meaning or color. He was just making a collection of sounds. He couldn't even read his lips. Daniel looked around at the other museum goers, whose voices blended together in a loud drone. A growing heaviness sank in his chest, into the pit of his stomach, pulling him to the floor. He was going to be sucked down into the Earth, pulled under the concrete and suffocated. He caught a glimpse Armand's black Jimmy Choo sneakers, the rubber pooling into the cracks and divots in the floor. Daniel's chest tightened as Armand melted with it, his features sinking into the darkness-
"Daniel!"
Armand crouched beside him, grasping Daniel's wrist and the back of his head. It took a moment for the gravity of Armand's touch to find Daniel again. There was a little crowd around the two of them. Daniel went to push himself up off the floor, but a sharp pain shot through his palm. A piece of glass had lodged itself into his skin. The wine stuck to his fingers. He had dropped the cup. The audience sympathetically groaned as a trickle of blood ran down his hand. Armand's pupils twitched, and the crowd now was frozen in their ugly, mildly disturbed states.
"My beloved, are you alright?" Armand asked quickly, his voice barely hiding his anxiety. "Ach…" he cringed at Daniel's hand and took it in his own. "Let's get you home."
"It's… It's fine," Daniel said a little too harshly. Armand barely reacted, just the tiniest flash of worry creasing his smooth skin. Daniel held onto Armand as he got to his feet, crunching the glass beneath his loafers. He stuck his bloodied hand in his pocket. "Make them all forget that," he added in a softer, more embarrassed tone. Armand narrowed his eyes, searched Daniel's face, but did as he was told.
The rest of the party had a sense of inaccessibility. Faces were less readable, words lost their charm. Daniel had this fuzziness in his head, this confusion that he hated, because he thought he knew what it was like to live without it. Even the art lost its luster. The black paint seemed to seep out and gurgle onto the floor, bubbling with horrid resentment, trying to reach out at him.
"Did someone slip something in my drink?" Daniel asked when they got home. Armand used some tweezers to delicately remove the shards of glass stuck in Daniel's hand. Even the pain was dulled to just a tingling sensation where the cuts were. Was this the drink, or maybe some new vampire power he was developing?
"You can only absorb substances through blood," Armand explained with a reminding tone. His eyes were big as he focused on playing surgeon. Daniel huffed.
"So, it was someone I ate?" Daniel tilted his head to try and meet Armand's gaze. "Look, 6pm's a bit of a weird time to be hittin' the hallucinogens." Armand said nothing, but his lip tugged downwards. "What, you wanna go on a tangent about how I should be more responsible?"
"They weren't intoxicated," Armand muttered quietly. "It's not that." He brought Daniel's hand to his mouth and sucked out the last piece of glass. Crimson crept into Daniel's face. Armand stuck out his tongue to show Daniel the glass.
"Then what was it?" Daniel persisted.
Armand took the glass between his fingers and studied it, his expression darkening. "It could be the Parkinson's. I can phone Dr. Fareed-"
"Nope," Daniel cut him off. "No more doctors. I'm fucking sick of doctors." He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms. "I'm a vampire, this'll heal, like you guys do." A despondent look filled Armand's eyes, which made Daniel feel like his tongue was a thick sponge. Armand went deathly still, deep in thought. Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Babe, stop that."
Armand sucked on his cheek, his eyes shifting past Daniel to the floor. "It might be…" He chose his words carefully, slowly. He was scripting something. Daniel's chest squeezed. "It may be a permanent thing."
Daniel twitched his nose. "Excuse me?"
Armand took in a deep breath that he didn't need. "Well, you were turned after a seizure."
Daniel's voice took on a quizzical tone. "I remember."
"Your brain…" Armand searched for the words. "May still have scars from that. Armand sucked the blood off his fingers, looking for a distraction from what was troubling him, which made Daniel all the more tense. "I… I've seen it before. A poor boy of Marius'. He was rotting away." A cold, icy feeling rolled down Daniel's spine. "…The Dark Gift was a last resort."
And there was that vertigo effect again. That warping of space, Armand suddenly a million miles away.
"The body is only so malleable," Armand continued, the words forced through his teeth. "After transformation, there is only so much the Gift can heal. Sickness, burns sometimes, but something deep set… Something that had been there already…" His eyes finally locked on Daniel's own, the usual warm replaced with the same, white-hot glow as the noon sun. The elder vampire shifted himself back, lengthening the distance between them. "It was a moment of unplanned action." Daniel's face erupted with a warm, seething anger. His heart was shriveling in his chest.
Oh. Great.
"So you knew this would happen?" Daniel asked, baring his fangs. "After my whole…" he gestured at his head. Armand let out a cold breath. "Oh. Oh. How nice, boss."
"I was going to lose you," Armand started. "I… It was selfish, yes. To want to… To make that decision without knowing all the pieces-"
"What you mean you didn't know?" Daniel snarled. "You just, what, were hoping shit would be different this time? It wouldn't happen to me, even though it happened to you?" Armand's pupil twitched again. His eyes bore into Daniel, and Daniel knew what he was trying to do. He wanted a peek inside, to read Daniel, to see what he could pull out. Daniel let out a sardonic huff. "Oh, what, you want me to forget that too?"
"I… It was a selfish move-"
"I'll say," Daniel stood up. "You trapped me as a schizo forever! What, so you wouldn't lose your favorite little boytoy?" Armand's silence was deafening. "Great, babe. Just great." He shook his head and stormed off to the window.
"Daniel."
Daniel grabbed a pack of cigarettes.
"Daniel."
He opened the window, climbed onto the fire escape, then shut it so hard the glass pane cracked. His bones groaned and ached as he leaned on the balcony. He could feel Armand watching him through the broken window as he slid a cigarette out and took it in his shaking hands.
Fuck. He had forgotten his lighter. He let out a frustrated growl and threw the cigarette off the fire escape, the white slip of paper disappearing into the lights of the city. Daniel was too proud to go back and grab it. He wasn't going to be the one who caved first. So he stood, defiantly, staring out at the glittering streets beneath him. He waited for the buzz of New York to give him a new, witty, sexy comeback to fling in Armand's face. It'd be so good to get him to realize how much he fucked him over.
But the comeback never arrived. Daniel stood in the warm summer night alone. He took another cigarette and stuck it in his mouth absentmindedly. He hung his head and watched as cars passed by. Bright orange, white, LEDs and a million watts. A night of color and sound and smell, something he wanted to inspire him. But it conflicted with his previous memories, with his lived experience. New York in the 80's wasn't New York in the 2020's. Shit changed. Shit always changed.
Except him, now, apparently. Apparently his brain and body were done changing. Apparently, without knowing, he was going to be stuck like this forever. His brain would trick him and his body would ache until the heat-death of the universe! Daniel grabbed his hair and let out another, louder growl. He sunk his nails into his scalp, wanting to feel some kind of sting. He tried to sink to the grated floor but his knee popped and his back hit the brick outside of the apartment. He couldn't even be dramatic appropriately. Daniel almost wanted to eat the cigarette still in his mouth, like how Armand fed the cigarettes to the garbage disposal. Maybe the bitterness would snap him out of this shit.
His body ached more than usual. If he was with Louis he would've cried. He would've gone and angsted about it over some poor dead people. But noooo. He was stuck here with mister monster in the other room. And Daniel would be damned if he let Armand see him cry again. Not after 1973. Or 1975, or 1980, or 1985, or 2010, or 2022. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction again. Getting to be the guy who "saved" him.
He sat on the balcony until the gray haze of dawn was finally peeking out beyond the buildings, when Armand opened up the window and climbed out to join him.
"I came to apologize," Armand began, his voice low.
Daniel scoffed. "No, you didn't." He finally took the cigarette out of his mouth and rested his hand on his bad knee. God, was that permanent too?
"You're clearly in a bad mood," Armand said as he sunk down to Daniel's level. "I should've thought more about the decision." Daniel let out a harsh chuckle. Understatement of the millennia. He had waited to change Daniel this whole time, just to leave him some geriatric loser? He peered into Armand's eyes. "This mood, it must've followed you for a long time."
Daniel wanted to bite back. He wanted to yell about how he'd been feeling this way forever, actually, especially that he was aging and dying and old, and Armand didn't need to rub his face in it. But he was so exhausted from the storm of emotions inside him that he just shot the older vampire a glare.
Armand's face remained still. "You need a distraction," he said, before he slid two pieces of paper out of his back pocket. Daniel absentmindedly took them.
Two first class plane tickets to LA. Underneath, tickets to some shows, some private art galleries, a winery that Armand drew a little smiley face with fangs next to. Daniel looked back at Armand, whose eyes flickered in the coming light. Daniel's heart pulled in this sour, bitter way, like swallowing a black hole. He knew Armand was trying to make amends, or at least pull Daniel from his immediate wallowing. He knew Armand had to feel some guilt about how the whole thing transpired.
Maybe he could pull that guilt out. Maybe Daniel could distract himself from the void. Or maybe he could pull Armand in there with him. Maybe he could humor him. He wanted to do all and neither. He wanted the truth, even though he pretty much already had it. What was Armand really willing to bear with?
"…Fine," Daniel said with a massive sigh. He gingerly handed the tickets back to Armand. He put the cigarette back in his mouth. "Light me?"
Armand watched him for a good, hard minute before Daniel heard the sizzle at the end of the cigarette.
Daniel hadn't flown first class since Louis shipped him back to the States. Armand sat them together, giving Daniel an aisle seat, and Daniel sensed that the spoiling was the first part of the apology. It would help if Armand actually said that, given that they didn't share the Mind gift, and Daniel never got to reap the benefit of fifty-years of mindfucking.
It would help if Armand actually said something other than his thoughts on 2001: A Space Odyssey. He could feel, if he focused, a grinding, scraping feeling from Armand, under the factoids and his retelling of seeing it for the first time in Zurich. Like two tectonic plates sliding against each other, turning rock into magma. An uneasiness he wasn't used to sharing, clearly. And why would he be? Daniel was his first, after all.
Daniel, forever the first child of some new parent vampire. Just his luck.
Whatever words were being said around him, they weren't sticking. Sounds floated in and out of his ears. Conversations boring, meaningless. A creeping, cold feeling, of this, deadened conversations about jackshit, forever. And ever, and ever, and ever. Even his own thoughts bobbed to the surface, unearthed and sunk again under layers of gunk that filled his brain. His brain, now broken forever.
By the time they got in their deluxe Uber (Armand's order), the pull of sleep was more and more tempting. He felt a bit shabby, even in his overpriced jeans (Armand's purchase) and now vintage leather jacket (a hand-me-down from his brother), because he was next to this fucking model in the car, staring out the window, gaze flitting from one LA building to the next. Daniel did the same from his own side, the distance palpable between them in the sportscar. Stupid purple moodlighting and smooth, light gray leather seats. Glamor everywhere.
A warm, orange light flickered at the edge of Daniel's vision, and he squinted his eyes to get a better look. They were passing some kind of park, where there was some big elephant statue sticking out of the ground. No, it was a pond. There was a gray building in the background, a fence, a sign with two sabertooth tigers… Oh!
"Hmp," Daniel said, partially to himself. "Haven't been there in a while."
"Hm?" Armand turned to look out Daniel's window. "Oh, La Brea."
"Yeah." Daniel's voice was tired from travel. He didn't understand how Armand remained so vigilant. Maybe, in a couple hundred years, Daniel would be so crazy that he wouldn't need sleep either.
"When were you last there?" Armand asked in a light, thoughtful voice. It instantly set Daniel off, the tone of someone who wanted to hear something they already knew the answer to. Like Armand didn't know everything about him already.
"I think it was the '90s… '91," Daniel said flatly as they passed the park. "Alice had tried to make us and the kids go for something educational." Daniel's hand twitched involuntarily, which he glared at. Why was that still happening? He hadn't seen Alice since Camilla's graduation from UCLA, which, by the way, he hadn't been invited to. He just needed to remind them of his existence, that he was still there, he hadn't died yet, as much as they all wanted him to.
"Did they like it?" Armand asked. "Your daughters."
Daniel gave a hard, somewhat forced laugh. "Psh, no. I made a joke about getting it in her hair and she started crying, and that was the end of that."
Armand gave a slow nod, his eyes slightly unfocused, his mind clearly searching for something. He shook his head, and then looked back at Daniel. "And you?"
Daniel pressed his lips together, a buzzy little memory clawing through the cobwebs of his mind. Something past the recognition of that time with Alice. Something older. "Already'd been."
Armand nodded, a tiny smile remaining. That same smirk he'd get in Dubai when Daniel unknowingly said something ironic. Armand, in his own little movie, getting all the fourth wall-breaking moments of dramatic irony.
Daniel was too tired to question it in front of the poor (well, clearly not poor) Uber driver, so he shut his mouth all the way through the hotel and up to their room. Which of course was big and glamorous and ridiculous. Daniel could imagine his younger self going on some tirade about the whole thing, but fuck it, he was old, and a Californian King was a Californian King.
It still didn't feel right though, getting into the too-firm bed, grumbling to himself as Armand slid next to him, iPad at the ready.
A long, tense moment passed. Suddenly, Daniel couldn't sleep.
He studied Armand from his side of the bed. The way his body moved with these careful, precise dances. His fingers floating just above the screen. His eyes calculating, shifting from one word to the next. Everything about it was a statue come to life, carved and polished.
"Are you gonna sleep?" Daniel asked, even though he knew the answer.
"I'm not tired," Armand responded simply. "Besides, I want to make arrangements for tomorrow evening." Terse. Distractions. Distance. Maybe it was Daniel projecting, or maybe Armand was already feeling bad.
Well, good! He should feel bad! Now Daniel was gonna spend the rest of the trip with his foggy brain ruminating over everything. What would happen the next time he fell and Armand wasn't there to erase it from everyone's minds? When would people start asking questions?
He looked back at Armand. That same, grating feeling. Two tectonic plates.
Daniel hated himself for being mad, and he hated that he hated himself for being mad, and that went on and on and on forever, because he went on forever.
A shudder ran down his spine as Armand flicked off the lamp for him telepathically.
Daniel Molloy was going to be stuck with the vampire Armand forever. They'd orbit each other like two stars, always on the verge of crashing into each other.
But there was something much worse than that, that kept Daniel staring at the stupid, intricate ceiling.
Daniel Molloy was going to be stuck with Daniel Molloy forever.
The next evening, as the sun was setting, Armand shared the research he did yesterday. Daniel had instinctively made a pot of coffee that he realized he wouldn't need, and so he just stared at it as the steam drifted off the surface.
"The La Brea oil seepage seemed to form around 50,000 years ago, putting it in the Upper Paleolithic. Their website says they've found over three million fossils. Did you know there are fly larvae that live in there, having bodies that can repel the tar around them?"
"That's a pleasant thought to have over my coffee," Daniel muttered sarcastically.
Armand stopped for a split second to notice the drink, before continuing his lecture. "To this day, animals can still get stuck in it, with mostly bugs dying, obviously, but there are ways to rescue larger water fowl from the tar. It's similar methods employed by scientists taking care of animals trapped in oil spills." Armand pulled out his tablet again, and Daniel braced himself for more macabre factoids, but instead Armand switched to talking about some winery he found that would be fun to crash.
The words went in one ear and out the other. More wine, more things to break into his skin. A tingling feeling in his hands, their want to jump and tense with pain, a tightness that wouldn't go away. A bubbling regret on his own end, for not taking care of his body better. Armand would recognize that eventually, wouldn't he? He'd see Daniel doomed himself and stop blaming himself. Daniel's misery would become his own stupid, fucking burden.
That tingling feeling was weirdly warm. Some blurry mental image crept into his head, darkness and sparkles and weird lights and a thrumming pain. Laughter and groaning and something sucking him down.
Wait, this was a normal memory, not an Armand one. He gave a little sigh of relief, which Armand took notice of.
"Dear, are you alright?" He asked.
Daniel blinked a couple times, before giving his attention back to Armand. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Where're we going tonight?"
Armand rented out a pleasant section of Long Beach for the evening, which Daniel was almost embarrassed by, if it weren't for a wedding party a little down the ways. So cheap, schmaltzy music filled the air as Armand and Daniel walked along the shore. Armand's eyes twinkled, both from the golds of the wedding party and the silver from the moon and stars. Daniel took a drag of his cigarette.
Each inhalation of smoke got more tar in his lungs, the taste somehow even more bitter as a vampire. He could envision his windpipe clogged up with sludge, his lungs shriveled like rotten fruit. And now, they were stuck like that. His body, his broken body that he broke, was gonna be a permanent reminder of all his shitty choices. It ate at him, like at whatever had rotted away at Amedeo.
Armand walked a little ahead of him. He gently skirted just beyond the tips of the waves as they crawled up the beach, his shoes off, his feet in the white sands. His gentle, graceful moves. His practiced stance. Daniel slowed to a stop as he watched Armand. He was pretty.
Daniel didn't like that he found Armand's projected pose pretty. That's exactly what Armand wanted, the prick. It bit all the more when Armand shot him a charming, placid smile, content in the sea breeze, and Daniel's heart squeezed.
Daniel wanted to flip Armand the bird and say "Nah, this shit isn't working, I'm gonna be miserable forever, and it's all your fault!" But Armand's cute smile cracked as he spoke, interrupting Daniel's inner tirade.
"Don't you wanna walk?" Armand asked.
Daniel huffed, and tried to smile, but it was a pretty pathetic attempt. "Tired."
"You'll be less tired if you join me," Armand held out his hand, coming just a bit closer to close the distance. Daniel's anger vibrated violently in his chest, fighting the urge to be sappy and cute and take his boyfriend's hand. He settled on the neutral option of shuffling over to Armand and using him as a barrier between himself and the waves.
Movement and stagnation. Movement around stagnation. Time moving and bending around him. Him, staying the same old Daniel Molloy. La Brea Tar Pits, unchanging for 50,000 years, eating everything up. Some eager black hole.
That normal memory. A small sense of relief, as he rolled it around in his mind, rubbing it like a worry stone. It felt grubby, weird, sticky, but it didn't carry the same detached nature that those implanted memories did, like with the drug den. Synapses actually connected to the rest of his deteriorating brain. And it was before his children, before Alice, it was early in his adventures as a young adult in LA.
He chuckled, and Armand glanced back at him, his face thoughtful, tinged with the slightest concern, which melted almost instantly as he took note of the little grin playing on Daniel's face. It was cute in a super annoying way.
"What's funny?" Armand asked. Daniel sighed again, his age coming back to him. He watched as Armand searched for an answer, the tiniest bit of anxiety on him.
Armand was trying to be more open. Less tense plates and more a gentle shift of dirt. Okay, Daniel could give a little. It was his memory, his story. He broke eye contact with Armand and watched his steps.
"I'd already been." Daniel took another drag of bitter smoke. "To La Brea." He waited for Armand to respond, but his big eyes gleamed with silent curiosity. An enraptured audience. "I was here for… Some local paper, an internship. Some friend was letting me crash." Daniel brushed past the part where he and this friend had certain weird boundaries that bordered on an actual relationship. "He had this blowout, and invited all of us to go barhop. I was soooo plastered…" Daniel couldn't help but laugh at himself. "It was before… before they had that fence, around La Brea. They had different statues too." The memory was a murky mess, the dull pain and sparkly lights and heady laughter, something in him hurting, something in him ignoring it. It was all a dizzying spiral of senses dulled with time. And yet, he hadn't been sad. Not in his mind. "It was in the '70s, something in the mid-'70s… '70… '70 something-"
"1975," Armand cut in with bone-chilling clarity. Any of the charming buzz of storytelling was quickly sapped away with Armand's wistful smile. "You climbed onto a Megatherium statue and tried to dry hump it." Daniel's face went cold with sinking horror. "Then you vomited, fell off and hit your head, and tumbled into the pit."
Daniel fought off waves of growing nausea. "I… I didn't tell you about this," he mumbled. He hadn't thought about La Brea in years, least of all while he was getting turned and Armand was reconnecting himself in all those memories. "I… Was just there with friends."
Armand's smile grew all the more nostalgic, which would've been super adorable if Daniel had been talking about literally anything else. "No, you didn't tell me," Armand said, his tone so charming Daniel wanted to cut his own ears off. "You were concussed. I had to take you to the hospital."
It hit Daniel harder than that pickup truck did in 2010. "…Oh, my fucking god." Daniel finally remade eye contact with Armand. He felt as if he was about to have an aneurysm. "You little shit."
"It was merely a coincidence," Armand spoke with casual plainness, as if it had been just another errand to run. "Louis and I were in the area for an art auction, and Louis said you weren't to get hurt, so I made sure you got somewhere safe." Daniel felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he stared at Armand incredulously. Armand looked Daniel up and down, his vampire claws resting lightly on his own chin. Daniel felt as if he was admiring some piece of artwork. Cute, again, if it was any other time. "You had to be hosed off and get two stitches in your forehead, but as time shows, you recuperated just fine."
Daniel had a million questions that he wanted to strangle Armand's neck with, but the most embarrassing one came out first. "Was… Did Louis see me?"
Armand's smile widened. "No."
It should've been more of a relief to Daniel, that his man-crush of fifty years didn't see him do more stupid shit, but it wasn't, because his boyfriend had apparently kept this little gem of a shared occurrence locked away in the vault for just as long. What other embarrassing, shitty moments was Armand still not sharing? Daniel's blood boiled.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Daniel pressed. Armand's smile faltered slightly, and he looked out at the ocean, as if he were about to break out into a soliloquy.
"You were happy," Armand's tone was soft. "And I didn't want to remind you of me. I didn't want to open such a fresh wound and ruin your obvious euphoria."
Daniel's heart twitched with a palpitation he really didn't want to be having right now. Sure, Armand watched him get hurt plenty of times. But to remove himself as the savior felt almost too saint-like for the vampire Armand, Daniel's stalker in the night. Preserving his happiness, his gross, disgusting happiness, because that was something he could take away too.
"So, you just let me make myself look like a dumbass," Daniel said, his voice low with frustration. "Your little jester."
"My little Daniel," Armand took a step towards his partner and gently cupped his face, "actually recognized me. You were the one who called me beautiful from the passenger's seat of my Toyota Celica." Daniel's blush only grew deeper. Armand's touch burned his skin. He desperately dug through his mental toolbox of witty one-liners to cut through the gushiness, but alas, that was lost in the sea of darkness as well. He put on his best glare, trying to go stone cold, just to make Armand flinch. Armand simply dropped his hand onto Daniel's shoulder. "Well, you were alright, and that's what mattered." He brushed off Daniels's shirt, as if fifty years later he still had asphalt on him. His maker turned back to the ocean, to show some invisible audience his great act of grace. Daniel wanted to throw up.
Armand went back to walking down the beach, a little too happy with himself. Daniel stood frozen, his thoughts completely incoherent, stained with too many emotions to count. Armand having power over him. Again, and again, and again, forever and ever and ever! And yet, Armand also saving him. "Preserving his happiness." AUGH! He wanted to scream, to tear out his hair and claw his face red. He was just a stain on Armand's otherwise happy play, dragging him down.
Dragging him down, that's what Daniel did best. Armand calling Daniel a black hole had been on the money from the first moments they met. He was great at reminding people of how shitty the world was. It was his job, ruining relationships with perceived reality. Some shitty little kid from Modesto who always had to fuck up a good thing. Armand got to paint himself as the hero every time, saving Daniel from himself. Because himself was just so bad. Himself, that he was stuck forever with!
"Would you like to spend the night at the Getty?" Armand asked, a few yards down the beach from Daniel. "Some art may give you ease of mind."
Nope, nope, never. No more distractions. No more dancing around the topic. Daniel was now alive forever so the confrontation was gonna have to happen eventually. Might as well get the ball rolling. Time to fuck shit up, the Daniel Molloy way!
"You know what?" Daniel said, his tone biting and sarcastic. "Nah. I'm sick of art museums, y'know, having seizures and shit that now I'm apparently stuck with forever." When Armand turned around to look at Daniel, it shot a bold of electricity down his spine. "Might as well go back to La Brea." Armand pressed his lips together. "So much tar in my system, might as well embrace it." He patted his stomach for extra affect. Armand stood there, silent, like some big cat trying to tell when it's prey would move into position. "My lovely, tar pit self, as you called me." He moved his hand to his chest, as if to smear the label all over it.
Armand fell for the bait. "I… I never said that-"
"Oh, sorry, that stupid, shitty memory problem again!" Daniel lied. "But I mean, come on. Black hole, tar pit, same thing, right?"
Recognition, horror, and then subsequently rage danced across Armand's beautiful face. The excitement in Daniel bordered on sadistic. Armand made the deliberate effort to stride over the beach to his fledgling, and Daniel adopted the most shit-eating grin he could muster. He wanted Armand to rip him in half so badly.
"First of all," Armand spoke with so much ferocity that Daniel was sure that Louis could hear him from all the way across the world. "A black hole and a tar pit are two incredibly different things. A tar pit is formed from an otherwise insignificant crack in the earth, whereas a black hole literally breaks reality and destroys all light in it's vicinity-"
"Like myself, clearly," Daniel butted in. Armand looked like he was about to incinerate him.
"-And is infinitely more dangerous than some measly puddle of oil! This speck of reality couldn't come up with something so deadly. Black holes are theorized to destroy the universe." He did another look over of Daniel. "Given your density, you wouldn't even sink fully in a tar pit. A black hole would eat you atom by atom, not even an immortal being could save you from complete annihilation!" Daniel couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. He got this horrible, bitchy amusement from taunting the dragon. Armand cocked his head to the side menacingly. "You think this is funny, Daniel?"
"Ohhh yeah, baby," Daniel replied. He crossed his arms and flicked his cigarette into the ocean. "Makes me wanna go there right now."
Armand's big eyes gave away the tiniest hint of panic. It made Daniel feel amazing and horrible all at the same time, like the worst dose of fentanyl he could give himself. The high, and then the immediate terror and crash. But Daniel was nothing but an addict, so time for another pill.
"What, you want to recreate the past?" Armand asked. "Ruin your clothes and hair again, to reclaim some memory?"
"All the more reason for you to join me, this time." He grabbed Armand's shoulders with a dramatic flair. "You could watch me be your little clown again. Throw me in there, watch me flail and choke. You know you'd love it."
Armand narrowed his amber eyes as Daniel broke out into a mean cackle. "That's not cute, Daniel."
"Why not? I could drag you in with me, this time," Daniel said, baring his fangs. "Into the black hole, where I destroy all light, obviously."
"I thought we were talking about La Brea-"
"And you'd be stuck with me, forever, in the darkness," Daniel's hands flew up to Armand's face, really hamming it up. "Drowning and screaming and fucking and dying for all of eternity, until those black holes finish the job." Armand pulled away, and Daniel laughed again. "Like we already are!"
Armand's stare was terrifying. Daniel panted, as if he had just ran a 5K. He waited for Armand to unleash that beautiful, fucked up rage, slam him into the ground and split him in two. Come on, I'll let you, Daniel thought. He knew he was digging a bottomless grave, but after fifty years, he'd run out of all fucks to give. Now, with the infinite call of the void, what was there to lose?
Armand's stare finally broke. He distanced himself, pursing his lips. The elder vampire nodded, slow, cold, knowing. A sour taste grew in Daniel's mouth, a sinking, twisting feeling filling his stomach. The kind of feeling he'd get when he yelled at Alice or his kids, after the pride disappeared and he was just left with his shitty self. He wanted to push it down and let that swing of confidence come back. He wanted to win! Daniel wanted to tell Armand that he had no power over him, even if it was a lie.
"You really want to sink yourself to that level?" Armand asked cooly.
Daniel made himself stand just a bit taller, to really sell the self hatred. At least he looked brave in the face of Armand, conscious death that he was.
"You were mindfucking me for fifty years, don't you know me by now?" Daniel plastered a smug smile on his face.
Armand's huff was steady, a single, slow exhale. Daniel hoped so badly that Armand would just rip out his throat, so he wouldn't have to ruminate on what he just said. The pain would be a welcome distraction. Finally, he could die the smug bastard like he always hoped he would. The pit in his stomach was deep, bubbling with an oncoming wave of guilt. He was so good at proving people right about himself, wasn't he?
Then, Daniel's heart dropped into that pit when Armand fucking smiled. It was this cruel, mischievous, horribly sexy smile that made Daniel want to squeal like a piglet. Daniel hated how much he loved that smile, how he loved the horrible burst of fear in his chest.
"Alright." Armand shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back, his anger transforming into effortless coolness. His curls fell in long, black, chaotic waves down the back of his neck. "Fine, you can destroy yourself. And I'll be there to see it."
Daniel snorted again, though with far less bravery, trying to distract Armand from his own heightened heartbeat. "Of course you will."
Armand tilted his head, letting the moon twinkle in his eyes. "I'm serious, I will."
The two stared at each other. Two springs coiled, ready to jump. Daniel hoped, deep down, that Armand would cut the shit and they could go back to moping. Let the anger fizzle until nothing but emptiness remained. Destined to leave Daniel with himself forever. Armand couldn't wipe Daniel's memory, so he'd have to sit with this pit of misery for all of time.
"…Yeah?" Daniel finally asked. He cocked an eyebrow. He hated how small his voice sounded.
Armand tilted his chin up. "Yeah."
It was too casual. To calm. He was just saying that. Daniel pressed on. "Yeah?"
Armand took a step closer, nodding with his smirk. "Yeah."
Daniel could hear the blood pump in his own ears. "Yeah?" He raised his voice and stepped closer to Armand.
"Yeah!" Armand responded, more vigorously nodding.
"Yeah?" Daniel's voice got louder.
"Yeah!" Armand's voice got louder.
"Yeah?!" Daniel shouted.
"Yeah!!" Armand screamed in return. It was music to Daniel's ears. The final shot of energy before it all died down. Here comes the end. Daniel was destined to be stuck with his horrible, disgusting black-hole-tar-pit amalgamation self forever!
But instead, Armand instantly scooped up Daniel bridal style and launched the both of them into the night sky.
Daniel screamed into the crook of Armand's neck, his limbs all clinging to his maker for dear life. The ground swirled away from them, the beach becoming a white streak atop the dark waves. That wedding party must've thought some poor creature was dying to an owl.
He screwed his eyes shut, the wind whistling in his ears. "What the fuck, man?!" Daniel shouted into Armand's skin. He didn't dare look down. He could imagine all the horrible ways his body could break into a million pieces that would take so long to grow back together.
"I told you I'd watch you do it!" Armand replied in a sing-song voice. That exciting, dizzying, drunken panic flooded Daniel's brain. The pit in his stomach only grew deeper as he finally realized what Armand was doing.
"It was-" Daniel started before an updraft blew them slightly to the side, and he screamed again. He gasped out his words. "It was a joke! A big, fucking joke!" He unscrewed an eye to see Armand still smiling, his eyes glowing with intent.
"And yet you were so adamant!" Armand leaned down to touch Daniel's nose with his own. Daniel swore he was going to combust right then and there, that simple touch sending excited, awful shivers down his spine. "You said it yourself," Armand continued. "Your 'lovely, tar pit self!'" Daniel hated every single word that had ever left his mouth in his entire life. His deep red blush only triggered Armand's wicked smile to grow. His sharp teeth gleamed in the night.
"Joke! Joke!" Daniel retorted with all the eloquence of a two-time Pulitzer winner. He bat his fist on Armand's back, though it did no damage, the man was made of steel. The fledgling could hear his maker's steady, slow heartbeat, as his blood gushed in his veins. It was magnetic, awe-inspiring, bone-chilling. Daniel wouldn't dare try affection now, not in this deep, but goddammit, did he wanna bite into Armand's neck and be a part of that heartbeat!
Another dip, Daniel screamed again. Now was definitely not the time.
Daniel could already see the orange lights in the distance, and shut his eyes again. Whatever Armand had in store, it was probably gonna be some creative, horrible thing that scarred him for his immortal life. Armand was so good at it. And the worst part was is that it was basically encoded in Daniel's DNA now. No matter how hard Armand tried to erase himself, he was in there, forever, dancing along. All the more cruel, to eventually leave Daniel with! Armand would torture Daniel for all of eternity, on a tiny little planet the two would constantly be orbiting each other, and Daniel hated that idea of security. Armand would leave him with his worst self, and yet, never, ever be truly gone.
It was the best dream and worst nightmare all rolled into one.
Armand came to a stop over the excavation pit. Daniel kept his eyes shut, his nose already burning from the sulfuric smell. Armand shifted him slightly in his arms, and he whimpered, feeling them begin to descend.
"Is this adequate?" Armand asked, his voice buttery smooth. "Do you feel at home?" Daniel couldn't help but peek. Call it a reflex to Armand's power. It was so surreal, to now see the black abyss calling to him, just twenty or so feet beneath him. Years of the tar being a hazy, drunken memory, now staring him in the face completely sober. "Is the bubbling mess intoxicating?" Daniel strained his neck to shoot Armand a glare. He opened his mouth to speak and was enraged when he stammered.
"It… You… Freak," Daniel managed, still winded from panic. Armand smirked, like a cat playing with it's prey.
"Did you not want this, dear?" Armand asked, dipping Daniel just a little further down, forcing his fledgling to stare at the tar pit below. Maybe it was the years of heroin, or the now-eternal Parkinson's, or being a vampire, but he swore he could see mouths and faces in the tar. All those trapped creatures begging him to join them, extinct creature he was destined to become.
But Daniel couldn't let his pride be wounded, not now, not in the trenches of whatever dumbass conflict he found himself in. Daniel was a fighter 'till the bitter, depressing end. And now there wasn't gonna be an end, was there? Might as well let the last wave of confidence drag him out to sea.
He drew in a deep breath (and tried not to gag on the smell) and locked eyes with Armand. "Fine," he said. "Fine!" Hands trembling, he let go of Armand's shoulders and spread his arms. Armand still supported him in his grasp. "Do it, coward! Sing a sister down."
Armand stared at him like how one would look at a bug under a microscope. His face twitched again. Was Armand scared? Was that an ounce of weakness? After all of this, why did Daniel feel bad sparking that inside his maker?
Well, whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it came. Armand simply lifted his eyebrows, letting his face return to placid curiosity. Armand held Daniel out just a little further, and Daniel braced himself for whatever cruelty was about to be unleashed upon him. But after a moment of nothing, the lack of action on Armand's part grated at his brain. "Well?" Daniel broke the silence.
"Your lack of self-preservation is as amusing as it is worrisome." Armand spoke with the same condescending tone one would give to a petulant child. Daniel rolled his eyes.
"Oh sure, boss. You're taking your sweet time making this decision." Daniel's voice only wavered slightly. Still deeply embarrassing. "Maybe you're scared."
Armand's face simply stretched with pride. "You want to become one with what you really are, don't you?" The question hung in the air. Armand could see to Daniel's very soul, to this day, even with the protective sheath of his vampire nature. He knew everything about him. He knew exactly what kind of sticky, gross creature he was, under the veneer of a successful man. Something that couldn't be washed out, no matter how hard someone tried.
Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Try me, bitch boy."
Armand dropped him so fast that Daniel barely had time to process that he had grabbed his maker's leg on the way down.
The worst part wasn't the smell, or the stickiness, or the fact his ego was never going to recover from this. He could see the headline now: "Sellout Journalist Found Half-Dead In La Brea Tar Pits, Accurate Summation Of His Existence (No One Is Shocked)." With Daniel's luck he'd be a side-column under the obituaries. The worst part wasn't even that Armand dropped him with all the effort of someone doing a backyard science project.
No, the worst part was that it felt kinda nice.
He was weighed down, frozen in place. He couldn't move, he couldn't see, he couldn't hear. He didn't need to breathe. He was just… there. In the dark, in the quiet void. His atoms not coming undone, the sharp claws of death not dragging him down. There was no screaming of ultimate destruction, there was just… him.
And Daniel remembered that he didn't actually want to be destroyed, that he wanted to live, to see whatever happened. He was alive despite every single thing in the universe trying to kill him. Even if he was left with just himself, his disgusting tar-pit self, he'd at least know what that misery felt like. It was the electricity running in his neurons.
He used his vampiric strength to claw himself to the surface, where he spluttered and coughed up globs of tar. He gasped for air, however sour it was. He heaved oxygen into his black lungs.
Armand laid only a few inches away from him. Any of the hot, boiling anger Daniel had held onto dissipated as he stared at his maker. Armand slowly pulled himself up, fighting against the tar. It yanked him back down, black ropes pulling him into the maw. Armand lurched up. His hair was plastered to his face, the beautiful curls matted with clumps of asphalt. He was covered head to toe. The only thing that was unsullied were his bright orange eyes. They glowed with the ferocity of the morning sun, scorching everything under it's gaze.
Daniel tried to pull himself back from Armand, but he was glued in place. He and Armand stared at each other. Daniel expected Armand to simply float up again, clean himself off in one brush, and leave Daniel to wallow with the dead creatures. A fitting fate. Maybe Armand would incinerate him for being such a nuisance. Get rid of his mistake. Wait a century for another Daniel to come along.
But instead, Armand's tar covered face shifted. It morphed, his nose scrunching up and his cheeks moving. His face split into a smile.
And he laughed. He laughed and laughed, this melodic tone, heart-achingly beautiful. And his laugh grew, crescendoing into pure light, encompassing all of him, filling Daniel with a golden warmth he had forgot existed. His fledgling sat in awe. It was like watching a supernova, a spectacular explosion of color and sound. A joy that felt so raw and real it shocked his whole system. Daniel couldn't help it, his face started to crack too.
"Happy now?!" Daniel asked as he broke into giggles. Armand's laughter somehow grew even more energetic. It was this rare speck of light at the center of Armand's being, the little kid under all the pain, violence, and ego. The laugh was infectious in the best way possible. Daniel couldn't help himself! He threw his head back and cackled along.
They were both stuck, both in the tar pit, drenched and sticky. Armand's torso was submerged, his legs splayed out, tar coated every single part of him. It splattered on his face, pulled his arms down, the black goop destroying any effort of the carefully crafted facade. He was the most beautiful thing Daniel had ever seen. He drowned any instinct of irony and let himself laugh. It was terrifying and so, so freeing. There was no other shoe waiting to drop, it was lost somewhere with the sabertooth tigers and mastodons and direwolves.
Daniel reached for Armand, who took his wrists and pulled his face to his. They completely missed each other's lips and both instead got the tar in their mouths, which tasted horrible. They tried to pull apart, and after a couple failed attempts and a lot of laughter, they eventually were able to, a string of tar connecting them. They went back in for another, more successful kiss. An excited giggle escaped Armand's mouth as he got his hands into Daniel's hair, gluing them in his ruined gray curls. Daniel let his hands drop back into the tar lake, feeling the pull of the stickiness. He could feel it pulling at his skin, the hairs on his arms tingling with irritation, but fuck it, he didn't care. It just added to the comedy of the whole thing.
Armand got a little carried away and accidentally pushed Daniel down onto his back. Daniel used his vampiric strength to lift his hands and pull Armand's torso to his, the two cackling all the way. Armand beamed down at Daniel, who wore his own goofy grin.
"Ah…" Armand's smile wavered slightly. "Sorry, about the hair."
Daniel chuckled. "Worst case scenario, you just shave it, and it grows back, right?" Daniel tried to remember Armand's lessons in vampire biology. "No biggie." Armand hummed in response, warm and comforting. His chin sank to Daniel's chest.
"My brave little fledgling," Armand said wistfully. "You can handle anything."
Daniel playfully rolled his eyes. "What proved that? The years of drug abuse? The suicidal depression?"
Armand's eyes were the color of honey in the sunlight. "You put up with me. I dropped you in a tar pit, for god's sake."
Daniel couldn't help but laugh, a warm, honest laugh of surprise. "You put up with me!" He tussled Armand's hair, though then couldn't really get it out of there. Whoops. Armand's smile was genuine.
"I love you, Daniel." Armand's tone was so assured that Daniel's heart just melted right then and there. It was almost too much. A sincerity that Daniel usually ran away from, staring him right in his goop covered face.
"Even like this?" Daniel dared to ask.
Armand giggled. "Especially like this."
Daniel sighed deeply with a chuckle. His hand massaged Armand's scalp, letting his senses of joy and fear and disgust all run wild, splashing and tackling each other, entwined in the sticky mess.
"The feeling's mutual, babe."
"Okay, close your eyes," Daniel said. Armand did as he was told, and Daniel poured the dish soap into Armand's disheveled hair.
Their phones and clothes had to be replaced. Their hotel room was now covered in black stains. Daniel was already preparing the tip he'd give the cleaning staff tomorrow night for their troubles.
Armand sat in the acrylic bathtub, his arms draped comfortably over the sides, warm water flowing in a steady stream down his back. The soap took a while to work, of course, but Daniel scrubbed methodically at his partner's skin and hair.
The drying tar was a sensory nightmare on his skin, but was too love-drunk to care. Besides, Armand would bathe him next. For such a ritzy hotel, the bath was too small for the both of them.
Daniel's hand brushed Armand's inner thigh with the soap, and Armand, his eyes now open, watched calmly.
"There's a scar there," Armand said so plainly it caught Daniel off guard. Daniel knew there was a scar there, he'd seen it plenty of times. A patch of darker skin, wrinkled from infection. "Amedeo got it when he was sick. It causes numbness, the lightest of limps he rarely allows." He smiled softly. "Acts up in cold weather."
Armand took Daniel's hand and let him touch it with the soap. The elder vampire didn't grimace or move, simply watched. "I let Fareed do an MRI on me, one time. For his research, but also because I wanted to see how it worked." Daniel listened. "My skull had patches where it fought to overcome the sickness. Bumps and holes and divots, a mountain range on what was supposed to be smooth. A fogginess in my brain. Slight deterioration of the senses. Confusion." He listed each symptom with growing melancholia. "The vampirism fights it, and it's always still there, five centuries later."
Daniel stared at the scar, his scrubbing paused. A deep, gentle sympathy pulled at his heart. Armand exuded power and was also carrying the pain of his own previous lives with him. Five hundred years, capable of such cruelty, and all the while never fully healing. Did he hate what he saw in himself? Daniel ran a washcloth under the water and brushed it against Armand's legs.
The two sat in silence, not forced or scared, but simply allowing each other to breathe. A space that didn't separate them, but bring them together.
As Daniel finally made progress on Armand's hair, his maker broke the silence.
"Let's do this again."
Daniel chuckled. "Wh…Huh?"
"First, we should go to the museum proper," Armand planned. "Then we should travel. Did you know the largest tar pit in the world is in Trinidad and Tobago?" Daniel's smile grew. "We can watch excavations, see tests, track it's impact on climate-"
"You wanna be a paleontologist now?" Daniel asked. "Hacking too boring for you?"
"You didn't let me finish!" Armand exclaimed. "I can see if it's replicable. I can make different textural components. We can clean birds from oil spills."
"Maybe we should just roll around in the mud, next time," Daniel said. "Safer. Less of a hassle for those poor Talamasca agents."
"That sounds lovely."
Daniel paused. "…You serious?"
Armand laughed again. Such a beautiful sound. "Daniel, I've never been more serious, ever."
Daniel got Armand a little container of black thinking putty from the gift shop at La Brea. Armand got him a sabertooth tiger skull for their apartment.