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Some days were harder than others, and today was one of those days. Mitchell had to drag himself outside for a smoke to ease his nerves, the smell of blood still lingering heavy on his senses. It had been a day of nothing but trauma patients coming in through the ER, and Mitchell had to be there every step of the way mopping up the blood the gurneys left behind. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, feeling the nicotine course through him, relaxing his tense muscles. All he wanted right then was to be at home with Anders beside him watching stupid television and not leaving the house except for beer or wine.
Loud sirens blared in the distance, closing in near the hospital. Mitchell watched disinterestedly as it blazed past him into the parking lot and up to the ER entrance. He finished his cigarette with a deep drag and flicked it away from him before walking back towards the hospital. He looked over curiously as they began unloading the patient from the back of the ambulance and Mitchell felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He recognized that swatch of blond hair, that pale skin, so very pale with the apparently loss of blood.
He sprinted the rest of the distance, panic-stricken as he was held back by one of the paramedics.
“I’m his partner, god dammit! What’s happened to him?” Mitchell shouted, fighting to get past the burly paramedic.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down.”
“Fuck you! I am calm now tell me what the hell’s happened to him!” Mitchell growled, looking fiercely in the man’s eyes. “Jesus he looks like he was attacked by a fucking animal,” he said, scrubbing his hand down his face trying not to completely freak out as thoughts of vampires, werewolves, or even the hunters attacking Anders flashed before his eyes.
The paramedic took one look at Mitchell before caving and leading him into the hospital. They walked over to registration where the nurse behind the desk had him fill out a form. Once established as a relative of Anders’s the paramedic explained how they had been called out to a residence where an attack had been seen. The man described the scene as a blood bath, and how they had barely been able to stem the blood flowing from the blonde. At this point Mitchell pacing fiercely back and forth, trying to calm himself as rage was beginning to bubble over. They told him how Anders had lost a lot of blood, and how they weren't sure of his condition at this time. The man put a comforting hand on Mitchell’s shoulder, causing him to jump as he was pulled back from his morbid thoughts. He was then directed to the ER waiting room until a doctor came out to tell Mitchell what Anders’s condition was.
Mitchell needed another cigarette as time dragged on. After five minutes his leg was shaking so badly he finally had to get up and walk around. After fifteen minutes he had to walk away long enough to bring back a cup of coffee. After thirty minutes, Mitchell threw away his untouched coffee and began pacing again. It wasn't until almost an hour later that the doctor came out.
“He’s in critical condition right now, but we have him stabilized. We actually lost him once on the operating table, but he snapped right back. He’s a fighter…that much is evident. We’re going to keep him overnight at the very least in critical care, give him a transfusion of blood. After that we’ll probably transfer him to the floor. Do you know what blood type he is?”
“B positive,” Mitchell said without hesitation.
The doctor nodded, making a note on the chart he was holding. “He’s still sedated, but you can go see him now,” he said before nodding and heading off.
Mitchell walked to where the doctor had indicated Anders was being held. It was a sight to behold: Anders’s chest slowly rising, as the monitor beeped steadily. Mitchell walked over to the bed slowly, dragging a chair over to sit next to him, and he tentatively took his hand. As he looked down at Anders, tethered by a multitude of tubes and cords, and it was if the flood gates opened. His head fell against Anders’s side and he sobbed. This had all happened because of him. This had vampire attack written all over it, and Mitchell knew it was because he had killed Herrick. If he hadn't selfishly taken out the leader, he wouldn't have put Anders in the crossfire for an attack.
After some time, Anders slowly came out of sedation and looked bleary-eyed down at Mitchell. He tried to offer him a sad smile, but ended up coughing violently, expelling a bit of blood. Mitchell panicked, quickly asking Anders if he needed a nurse. He was about to run and get one when Anders weakly grabbed his forearm.
“Stop,” he said weakly. “It’s fine.”
Mitchell nodded, settling back down in the chair and linking his fingers in Anders. Mitchell stared down at Anders, looking him over sadly, eyes roaming over the cuts and bites on his lover’s body. He felt tears start to stream down his face, hiccoughing when Anders reaches up to wipe away his tears.
“I’m sorry,” Mitchell choked out. “This is all my fault.”
Anders didn't say anything, just gently stroked Mitchell’s face. Mitchell looked up, almost expecting Anders to say otherwise like he always did. Say that no, Mitchell was just being too hard on himself. These were things that were beyond Mitchell’s control. But both of them knew better. It was Mitchell who had threatened the nest if they didn't stop the attacks, and in retaliation, they attacked his one weakness. Mitchell looked through Anders’s eyes, searching for something, anything to tell him that Anders didn’t blame him. But he found nothing, nothing but sadness, regret, and something else. Something darker that scared the hell out of him.
“No,” he moaned. “Oh god, no! Tell me it’s not true…tell me you’re not—“
“They held me down. I didn’t have a choice,” Anders said, blinking slowly and opening blackened eyes. A tear slipped down Anders’s face, and Mitchell felt the sudden urge to vomit.
Mitchell didn’t know what to say. Well there was nothing to say, as it had happened and there was no going back. You couldn't right this wrong. He tried to speak, but no words came out. He just looked back at Anders and gave his hand a squeeze, but Anders pulled his hand away tucking it under his arm.
“Anders?” Mitchell choked out.
“Anders isn't here anymore,” he said bitterly. “You killed him the moment you got involved with him.”
Mitchell’s eyes widened fearfully, looking into Anders’s eyes hoping to see the truth in the blatant lie, but he saw nothing except cruel blue eyes. The eyes of the god he’d only met a handful of times since he and Anders met. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as the truth of the words sunk in.
“Bragi?” Mitchell asked with horrified sadness.
“Bingo. You know Anders always thought highly of your intelligence, John, but you know…I’m not convinced,” Bragi sneered.
“H-how?” Mitchell asked, moving away from the god.
“Well it’s obvious isn't it? You have me, an immortal, and Anders a mortal. When we were attacked and he bled out, he died. Had the attackers not bled into his mouth, I would've died too, and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Because he didn’t technically die, I was able to cling to this body and not be forced to find another host. Anders however, wasn't so lucky.”
Mitchell shook his head. It wasn't true. Even when the body dies, there is still a part of you that remains when you reanimate. “You’re lying! Anders is still in there somewhere,” he shouted.
Bragi looked at Mitchell ruefully. “You poor deluded man; do you honestly think Anders was strong enough to hang on after death? Besides, even if he was still in here, he wouldn't want to talk to you. He despises you for what you've done to him. This is completely your fault, and he knows it.”
“So he is in there still…Anders! Anders can you hear me? Anders you’re stronger than this! Don’t let this arsehole con—“
“Enough! He’s terrified, and you being here isn’t helping. He doesn’t need you anymore; he doesn’t want you around anymore. I know what’s best for him and that doesn’t involve you,” Bragi said loudly, effectively silencing Mitchell.
“What are you saying?” he asked though he knew the answer.
“Whatever game the two of you were playing. Your pathetic attempt at domestic humanity is gone. It’s done with. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house. If there is so much as a trace of your existence left behind, I will stake you myself.” Bragi would have been convincing, however the tear that slipped down his cheek told Mitchell all he needed to know.
“Is that what you really want?” Mitchell asked, looking for the answer in Bragi’s eyes.
“Yes! Jesus are all vampires this fucking dense? We don’t want you in our life anymore!”
“I wasn’t talking to you—“
“I already told you, it’s what he wants. He doesn’t need you anymore. What he needs is me.”
Mitchell averted his eyes, unable to accept that as the truth. He let out a shaky shallow breath and rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans, mind racing. His darted his eyes up, softening at what he saw. There was a brief flash of horrified regret on Braigi’s face before it was replaced with a cruel grin.
“You need to leave before I scream for help.”
Mitchell frowned, running his hand through his curly brown hair. He was torn between staying to try and coax Anders back to him and the fear that he might be reading into something that isn’t there. His eyes widened fearfully when Bragi reached for the panic button.
“Okay! I’m going,” Mitchell panicked, standing abruptly. He took one last look at the man he loved. He clenched his eyes shut to block out the pain of what he saw and left the room.
Mitchell stumbled blindly into the hallway, finding the nearest trash bin and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. It took him several moments before he could walk properly and even longer before he stopped crying. There was nothing he could do; Bragi was much stronger than Anders in his current condition. Maybe if he was able to get Anders back to his full strength…
Mitchell pulled out his phone, dialing a number he rarely used and lit a cigarette as he put it to his ear. It rang three times before someone picked up on the other line. Mitchell took a deep shuddering breath before speaking. “Ty, it’s Mitchell. Something terrible has happened…and I need your help to fix it.”