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Chapter Text

The night hung heavy over the streets outside Gravedale High. Fog coiled through the alleys, swallowing the dim streetlamps. Vinnie Stoker had meant to take a shortcut home, but his cocky strut slowed the instant he heard the crunch of boots behind him.

Before he could turn, something struck him hard in the back of the head. The world tilted—darkness rushed in.

⸻

When he awoke, the smell hit him first. Damp wood. Rust. Old stone. His eyes darted wide in panic—the room was a basement, lit only by a swinging lightbulb that hissed with static buzz. He tried to move, but his wrists and ankles were strapped down with thick leather belts, pinning him to a cold steel table. A strip of tape sealed his mouth, muffling the sharp breath that rattled in his throat.

From the shadows, footsteps scraped closer.

A man stepped into view—wild eyes gleaming, hair matted, his coat splattered with dirt. In his hands he clutched a long, sharpened stake. His voice cracked with manic fury:

“AT LAST! The vampire spawn of darkness lies before me! The beast shall not rise again!”

Vinnie thrashed against the restraints, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as the man loomed overhead. The Hunter raised the stake high, trembling with zealotry, muttering phrases like half-prayers, half-rants:

“By flame and light! By blood and bone! The curse ENDS HERE!”

The tip hovered just above Vinnie’s chest. His muffled scream tore through the tape, wide eyes begging, pleading.

The Hunter’s grin widened. “Cry all you want, creature. Your cries are music to the ears of the righteous!”

The stake descended—

Vinnie’s wide eyes glistened with tears, silent sobs shaking his chest beneath the tape. His scream was muffled, desperate, his body straining against the straps. The point of the stake hovered just inches from his heart.

Suddenly—

CRASH!

The basement door exploded inward. Shadows surged down the stairs—Frank, Max, Reggie, Gill, and the others stormed inside. Their eyes locked instantly on the sight before them: Vinnie strapped down, trembling, his face streaked with tears, and the Hunter leaning over him with the weapon poised to strike.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Reggie roared.

Before the Hunter could react, the gang descended on him like a storm. Gill tackled him first, knocking the stake from his hand. Reggie’s claws flashed, raking the floorboards beside his head. Frank’s fist came down hard, sending the man sprawling. Reggie’s hiss cut through the basement like a dagger as they pummeled the Hunter until he lay unconscious, slumped against the stone wall.

The chaos stilled. The only sound left was Vinnie’s muffled sobbing.

Max Schneider appeared in the doorway, his face pale with horror at the scene. He rushed past the others and to Vinnie’s side, ripping the tape from his mouth and unbuckling the heavy straps.

“Vinnie, kiddo—are you alright?” Max asked, voice trembling with worry.

Vinnie didn’t answer. His breath came in shallow gasps, his whole body shaking. When the last strap was loosened, he bolted upright—not with words, but with a broken cry. He threw his arms around Max, clinging tight, burying his tear-streaked face into the teacher’s chest.

Max froze only a moment before wrapping his arms around the boy, holding him close. “Shhh. It’s alright now,” he murmured, lifting Vinnie carefully into his arms. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

The others stood in heavy silence, their eyes dark with anger and relief. They watched as Max carried Vinnie up the stairs, bridal-style, the vampire still sobbing into his shirt.

Behind them, the Hunter groaned faintly, unconscious but alive. Frank glanced back at him, fists tightening.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered.

But for now, all that mattered was Vinnie—safe, but shaken, clinging to the only comfort he could find.

Chapter Text

The sterile white halls of the hospital were a far cry from the cold, damp basement. Machines hummed softly, monitors blinked, and Vinnie lay pale and exhausted in the bed. His chest still ached from where the stake had hovered, but he had finally drifted into a fragile sleep, tear-streaked lashes trembling against his cheeks.

Max Schneider sat at his side, one hand resting gently on the bedrail. He had refused to leave. The other Gravedale kids waited anxiously in the lobby, their nerves taut, the memory of Vinnie’s muffled screams still ringing in their ears.

Then—

BANG!

The ward doors slammed open. Heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor. A deep, furious voice boomed through the air:

“WHERE IS MY SON?!”

Every head turned as Count Dracula, Vinnie’s father, stormed in. His cape whipped behind him, his eyes blazing crimson, fangs bared in rage and fear. The very lights seemed to flicker at his arrival. Nurses scattered like startled birds, whispering in terror at the overwhelming presence of the vampire lord.

Max rose quickly, raising his hands. “Count, please—he’s resting. He’s safe now.”

Dracula ignored him, shoving past with supernatural speed until he was at the bedside. His chest rose and fell with fury as he looked down at his son, sleeping fitfully, his bandaged wrists still raw from the straps. For a moment, the Count’s anger faltered.

He reached down, brushing a clawed hand gently across Vinnie’s damp hair. His voice, when it came, cracked with something deeper than rage—something fragile.

“My boy…”

Vinnie stirred in his sleep, whimpering softly, as though the nightmare still clung to him. Dracula’s jaw tightened, fangs glinting, but his hand remained tender on his son’s shoulder.

Max’s voice broke the silence. “He was… very close, Count. Too close. But he’ll recover. Physically, at least.”

Dracula straightened, his shadow stretching across the walls, his voice low and thunderous.

“Tell me who did this,” he demanded, crimson eyes flashing. “Tell me the name of the mortal who dared touch my son. I will see him suffer a thousand nights of torment.”

Max stepped forward, his tone steady. “The hunter has been taken into custody. But vengeance won’t heal Vinnie. He needs you now—as his father, not as the Count.”

For a long, tense moment, Dracula stood in silence, torn between the wrath of an ancient monster and the ache of a father whose child had been nearly taken from him. Finally, he lowered himself into the chair beside the bed, never taking his eyes from Vinnie.

“I swear,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else, “never again will he be touched. Never again.”

Vinnie shifted faintly, his lips parting as though he sensed his father’s presence. A tiny word escaped, trembling, half-asleep:

“…Dad…”

Dracula’s breath hitched. He reached down and carefully clasped his son’s hand, holding it with uncharacteristic gentleness as the monitors beeped steadily on. The room was quiet now. The dim glow of the monitors washed pale blue across Vinnie’s face as he shifted beneath the sheets. His lashes fluttered, and slowly, his eyes cracked open.

The first thing he saw was a dark silhouette sitting at his bedside. For an instant, panic seized his chest—visions of the Hunter looming over him, stake raised high. His breath hitched sharply, his hands trembling as though to fight the straps that weren’t there.

“Shhh, my boy.”

The voice was low, deep, and familiar. It wasn’t the Hunter—it was his father.

Vinnie blinked through the blur of tears. “…Dad?”

Count Dracula leaned forward, his crimson eyes softened, not with menace, but with concern. His gloved hand came to rest lightly over Vinnie’s, steadying the tremor. “I am here. You are safe now.”

Vinnie swallowed hard, his throat tight, words catching like broken glass. “He… he was gonna—” His voice cracked, eyes welling again. “I couldn’t move, Dad. I thought—I thought I was gonna die…”

His usual cocky bravado was gone, stripped bare to the frightened boy beneath. Tears slid freely down his cheeks as he turned his face away, ashamed of them.

The Count’s expression wavered, pain flickering across his ancient features. He reached out, gently turning Vinnie’s chin back toward him with a careful hand. “Do not hide your tears from me. Not tonight. Not ever.”

Vinnie’s lips trembled. “I was so scared…”

Dracula leaned closer, lowering his forehead against his son’s. His voice, for once, was not booming, not commanding—it was soft, raw, edged with something Vinnie had never heard before: fear.

“So was I,” the Count admitted. “The moment I heard what happened, I feared I had lost you forever. And that thought… it was more terrifying than any stake, any hunter, any sun that could burn me to ash.”

Vinnie let out a shaky breath, eyes wide. His father—the great Count Dracula—was trembling, too.

“You’re… you’re not mad at me?” Vinnie asked quietly, his voice breaking.

“Mad? No.” Dracula’s tone was firm, but his eyes glistened. “Proud. You survived what no one should ever endure. You are stronger than you believe, my son. But even the strongest have the right to weep.”

Vinnie couldn’t hold back anymore. With a choked sob, he reached forward, clinging tightly to his father’s chest. Dracula froze for only a heartbeat before folding his arms around him, cloak enveloping the boy like a sheltering wing.

The Count’s voice rumbled low, a vow whispered just for his son’s ears.

“No one will ever harm you again. Not while I still walk this earth.”

And in that rare, fragile moment, Vinnie let himself believe it.

Chapter Text

The next day, the hospital corridors bustled with quiet activity, but one room stood guarded—Dracula himself sat outside, arms folded, cape draped like a shadow over the waiting chairs. His crimson gaze dared anyone but the Gravedale students to come near.

Inside, Vinnie sat propped up against a stack of pillows, the color slowly returning to his cheeks. His wrists were still wrapped in gauze, and his usual confident grin was nowhere to be found. Instead, his wide eyes looked uncertain, his fangs hidden as though even smiling took too much effort.

The door creaked. Frank entered first, ducking his massive frame beneath the doorframe. Duzer, Gill, and Cleo followed close behind. And then came Reggie—eyes already shining with worry, his movements more hesitant than usual.

“Hey, slick,” Frank rumbled softly, trying to keep his voice gentle. “We, uh… we came to check on ya.”

Vinnie blinked, and for a moment, the silence stretched heavy. Then his lip wobbled just slightly before he managed a whisper: “You guys… you really came.”

“Of course we did,” Cleo said firmly, her hands flexing as her eyes glowed. “You’re one of us. No creepy hunter’s ever gonna change that.”

Gill, still dripping from some nervous sweat, chimed in with a crooked grin. “Yeah, Vin, you gave us a scare. Don’t do that again, alright? I’m way too handsome to stress this much.”

That earned the faintest laugh from Vinnie, though it quickly broke into a sniffle. He wiped at his eyes with his bandaged wrist, embarrassed.

Then Reggie moved forward. He didn’t say a word at first. Instead, he slid right up to the side of the bed and reached for Vinnie’s hand. Their claws laced together, shaky but tight.

When Vinnie looked up, Reggie’s expression was raw—anger and sorrow swirling together. “I thought I was gonna lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You don’t get it—I saw you there, strapped down, crying, and I—” He cut himself off, hissing sharply, eyes shining wet.

Vinnie’s throat tightened. Slowly, he leaned forward, their foreheads touching in a soft nuzzle. “I’m here, Reg,” he murmured, voice trembling but steady enough. “I’m still here.”

Reggie clutched him tighter, pulling him close in a careful embrace, as though he might break if held too hard. “Don’t scare me like that again, Vin. Ever.”

The others exchanged quiet looks, their hearts aching but warmed by the sight.

Frank gave a small nod. “We got your back, buddy. Always.”

Blanche smiled faintly. “And if anyone even thinks about hurting you again—they’ll have to go through all of us first.”

Duzer raised a fist as her snakes hissed . “Misfits sticks together.”

Gill raised his hand too, though his grin was sheepish. “Even fish stick together.”

Vinnie laughed again, this time a little stronger, though the tears in his eyes remained. Surrounded by his friends—his family—he finally let the weight of the nightmare ease.

He leaned against Reggie, their hands still clasped, as the others settled around the room. For the first time since the basement, Vinnie believed he might heal.

The warmth in Vinnie’s hospital room was cut short by the sound of boots in the hall. The door creaked open, and two uniformed officers stepped in, notebooks in hand. Their badges gleamed under the sterile light, but their faces were sharp with suspicion.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the taller one said, scanning the room before fixing his gaze on Vinnie. “We need to ask a few questions about the… incident.”

Dracula appeared instantly in the doorway, his presence swallowing the light. His crimson eyes narrowed. “My son is in no condition to be interrogated.”

The shorter officer held up a hand quickly. “It’s procedure, sir. Attempted homicide is a serious matter—we just need his statement.”

Max Schneider, who had slipped back into the room moments earlier, moved between Dracula and the officers, his hands raised to ease the tension. “Maybe keep it brief, gentlemen. The kid’s been through enough.”

The taller officer nodded and turned to Vinnie, whose grip on Reggie’s hand tightened. His eyes widened, throat dry, flashes of the stake raised above him flooding back. He trembled, fangs glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Son,” the officer began, his voice steady, “do you remember who did this to you?”

Vinnie swallowed hard. He opened his mouth—but no sound came out. His lips quivered, and his wide eyes filled with tears again. The room fell heavy with silence.

Reggie leaned close, his forehead brushing Vinnie’s in comfort. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

Max stepped in. “He doesn’t need to relive every detail right now. We all saw the man. He’s already in custody.”

The shorter officer jotted something in his notebook. “Yes, but… the suspect claims he was ‘purging evil.’ Said the boy was dangerous.”

The taller officer glanced at Vinnie, at the others in the room. His voice lowered, weighted. “Off the record… what exactly are you kids?”

The question hung in the air like a blade. Reggie’s claws twitched, Frank’s jaw tightened, and Gill’s gills fluttered nervously.

Max squared his shoulders, his voice calm but firm. “They’re students. My students. That’s all you need to know.”

The officers exchanged a look. For a moment, doubt lingered in their eyes—but then the taller one sighed, shutting his notebook. “We’ll be in touch. For now, he’s safe.”

As they left, Dracula’s eyes burned like embers. “Safe? They do not even see him as a child. Only as prey.”

Max touched his arm gently. “Which is why we protect them. Together.”

Vinnie sank back against his pillows, still trembling, Reggie’s hand never leaving his. The words of the Hunter and the suspicious eyes of the police carved a truth into all of them:

The outside world didn’t just fear monsters—it hunted them.

Chapter Text

The room was still humming with unease after the police left when the door opened again. A nurse in pale scrubs stepped in, clipboard in hand. She gave a polite but firm smile, though her eyes lingered nervously on Dracula in the corner.

“Alright, everyone,” she said briskly, “the patient needs rest. He’s stable, but too much stimulation isn’t good for recovery.”

Dracula’s eyes narrowed, cape twitching like a shadow about to strike. “I will not leave my son.”

The nurse cleared her throat, standing her ground despite the tremor in her hands. “Count or not, visiting hours apply to everyone. He needs quiet. One visitor, no more.”

The students all started to protest—Frank’s booming voice, Cleo’s fists flexing, Reggie clutching Vinnie’s hand tighter. Vinnie’s wide eyes darted from one friend to another, panic flashing in his face.

“No… don’t go,” he whispered hoarsely, voice breaking. “Please, I don’t wanna be alone.”

The nurse softened, but shook her head. “He won’t be. One person can stay.”

Vinnie’s gaze turned to Reggie immediately, his grip tightening. Reggie blinked, then nodded quickly, his voice rough. “I’ll stay. I’m not leaving you, Vin. Not tonight.”

Dracula’s crimson eyes flared, but Max stepped forward, placing a steady hand on the Count’s arm. “Let them. He needs his friends as much as he needs his father.”

For a moment, it looked as though Dracula would argue, the weight of centuries pressing behind his glare. Then, with a low growl, he drew back. “Very well. But if anything happens—”

“It won’t,” Max promised.

Reluctantly, the others shuffled toward the door. Frank bent down to squeeze Vinnie’s shoulder gently. “You hang in there, man.”
Duzer brushed her hand softly across his blanket, her expression tender. “We’ll be right outside.”
Gill gave a watery grin. “Try to dream of something fun. Like me saving the day for once.”

That earned a faint laugh from Vinnie, weak but real.

One by one, they filed out. Dracula was the last to leave, his gaze lingering on his son, until finally he melted into the shadows beyond the door.

The nurse dimmed the lights. “Alright. Try to sleep, sweetheart.”

When the door clicked shut, the room felt smaller, quieter. Vinnie’s breathing was uneven, his eyes wet in the low light. Reggie slid into the chair beside him, still holding his hand.

“You’re safe,” Reggie whispered, leaning close. “I’ve got you.”

Vinnie let out a shaky breath and shifted just enough to nuzzle against him, his forehead brushing Reggie’s arm. “Don’t… let go.”

Reggie tightened his grip. “Never.”

And for the first time since the basement, Vinnie’s trembling eased enough for sleep to finally take him.

The hospital ward was silent. Machines ticked softly, monitors blinking in the dark like distant stars. Reggie sat slouched in the chair beside Vinnie’s bed, his hand still laced with his boyfriend’s even as he dozed, head resting against the mattress.

At first, the only sound was the rhythm of Vinnie’s breathing. Then it shifted.

Uneven. Shaky.

His fingers twitched in Reggie’s grip. His chest rose and fell too fast. His face tightened, lips parting as he whimpered in his sleep.

“No… no, please…” he whispered hoarsely, the words escaping unbidden. His head jerked against the pillow. Tears streaked down his cheeks as though the nightmare were real. “Don’t—don’t—please stop!”

Reggie jolted upright, ears perked, eyes flashing with alarm. “Vinnie?”

Vinnie thrashed against the sheets, his voice breaking into muffled cries. “I can’t move—I can’t—” His eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving, sweat beading at his temples. He looked exactly as he had strapped to that table, moments before the stake.

Reggie’s heart clenched. He shook him gently at first. “Vin! Wake up, it’s me! You’re safe!”

But Vinnie’s sobs only grew louder, trapped in the dream. He kicked weakly, his voice rising in a choked scream. “Don’t kill me!”

Reggie couldn’t take it. He climbed onto the edge of the bed, pulling Vinnie upright against his chest, shaking him harder now. “Vinnie! Wake up! It’s over—it’s over!”

At last, Vinnie’s eyes snapped open, wide and wet. He gasped for air, clutching Reggie’s shirt in trembling fists, sobbing into him. His whole body shook like a leaf in the wind.

Reggie wrapped both arms around him, holding tight, rocking gently. “Shhh… it’s me. It’s just me. He’s gone. He can’t touch you. Not while I’m here.”

Vinnie buried his face against Reggie’s neck, crying openly now, all the terror spilling out. “I thought—I thought I was back there—I couldn’t stop him—I…”

“I know, I know,” Reggie whispered, his voice breaking, his own eyes wet. He pressed his cheek against Vinnie’s damp hair. “But you’re not there. You’re here. With me. And I swear—I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

They stayed like that, tangled together in the dim light, until Vinnie’s sobs slowed to shaky breaths. His grip on Reggie never loosened, even as exhaustion finally pulled him back into an uneasy sleep.

Reggie didn’t let go either. He just kept holding him, watching over him through the long, dark night.