Chapter Text
Somewhere near the Catskill Mountains
Benny Lafitte is having what you might call an off day.
In truth, off month or two might be a wee bit more on the accurate end of things, but he’s doing specially bad today.
The vampire flattens himself against a tree trunk, listening to the sound of cars moving past. Ain’t much to fret about. A big van with a couple of kids in the back and a funny little car with a pair of teenagers out on a jaunt.
All heading far away, he hopes, and prays that he can hold on.
He’s been without blood for five damn days, and is on the verge of ripping his fingernails out through his spine. It ain’t easy, not going it alone like this. He gets why Dean dropped him, situation with his brother the way it was. He knew what family meant to the guy, he really did. He got why they had to part ways and all.
Hell, trying to look out for family was about what got him into this particular fine situation. So, he couldn’t exactly judge. He still wishes more than anything that Elizabeth hadn’t see that. Still weren’t sure if he’d made the right choice there, ‘cept that man was rabid, and he wasn’t too keen on getting back to Purgatory just yet.
Rationalizing it sure didn’t make it a whole lot easier to stay clean. Even when he had a regular supply of blood bags, it was hard enough, but now….
He was going to hurt somebody real soon if he didn’t figure out a solution to this.
Of course, he’d thought he had. Break into a blood bank, simple enough, really, couldn’t be much more than a couple of locks to jimmy open, not at night. Previous place had been easy.
He failed to take into account good ole modern technology, complete with big flashin’ alarm systems that brought in a security guard before he got the hospital freezer open.
Benny had tried to knock the poor sucker unconscious, but the fella had decided that fighting back was a better plan, and in the scuffle had gotten a bit of a nick on his arm. One that happened to be deep enough to draw a bit of blood.
He still didn’t know how he got out of there with the guard’s hide intact, and that was two days ago, with stronger hankerings ever since.
The next town over, now, was somewhere a bit farther from the crowds, but they had a bloodbank, so that was somethin’, at least. A bit of a ways from town, too, he’d found an old cabin to lay low in.
But he couldn’t get to the bloodbank until late that night, not without risking running into some poor soul. He knew that this time, if he saw anybody, he’d been killing them, not a lot of choice in the matter.
‘Cept he liked having choices, so he was picking the one that ended with the fewest casualties.
He’d just been out to check on the truck, load up his coolers and the like, then had taking a hike to cool his nerves. The deer he’d stumbled across had helped some with the cravings, but not enough, no matter what those truly awful books he’d picked up had suggested. (Sparkly vampires, honestly. Sometimes he missed the old days.)
It was back to the cabin for the moment, though. It wasn’t much, but it was a little ways off the main road, and had a bit of running water, so that was better than nothin’.
When he reaches the cabin, he sniffs, and swears. Someone else had been here, recent like, and the door to the place is a bit ajar.
They’re gone now, whoever they were but he decides that it ain’t worth them coming back, so he fixes to clear out the second he nabs the last of his things out of the cabin.
He has a flashlight in his pocket, so he flicks it on before going in, and pulls the knife out of his belt, on the off chance he was mistaken.
The room is largely empty, except the pile of blankets in the corner, his duffel bag, and…
“The hell?”
The reaction is more’n justified, because the other thing in the room is a shiny new freezer cooler, with two things on top, that, on closer inspection, turn out to be a note written in blue ink, and a box of honest to all hell bendy straws.
He picks up the note and starts reading.
Hey there, Mr. or Mrs. or Ms. Vampire, (Dr. Vampire? Is that a thing?)
That’s right, you’ve been Garth’d, sucker.
Sucker. LOL, right? Sorry, bad pun.
Anyway.
Picked up on your little issue with the bloodbank in the last town, figured you were probably in need of a little bit of a boost.
I reckon since you’re on the lookout for baggy blood and didn’t eat the guard, you’re probably trying to go off the live stuff.
Props, man, real good of you.
Now, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, so any monsters who are trying to be less on the monster-y side of things is always good in my books.
Enjoy this on me, amigo, and let me know if ya run into any more trouble.
:D
Garth Fitzgerald IV
731-555-0123
And then reads the whole thing again, because for one… Nah, he didn’t even know where to start on that list.
Except he opens up the cooler, and its chock full of blood bags. It taunts him, they look so damn good sitting in there, so good it takes all his effort to shut the cooler again and dial the number. Because he ain’t stupid, and much as he wants that blood… He can smell a potential trap when he sees ones, cute little straws or not.
He’s glad he’s still got his handphone thingy, or whatever they were called. A voice answer on the sixth ring.
“Garth here. Sorry, had to pull over. No cellphones while driving. Safety first.”
“How do I know that cooler ain’t full of dead man’s blood, brother?”
There’s a chuckle on the other end of the line. “Would I do that?”
Benny rolls his eyes. “You tell me. Me and hunters ain’t exactly on the cuddliest of terms, and you seem like a hunter to me. I wrong?”
“Okay, guessing you’re that vampire I’ve been tracking, from your opener there. First off… Stop being an idjit. I’m trying to help you out, here. You aren’t the first vampire that’s tried to go straight. Some have done pretty well at it, but it helps when they got somebody on their side. Sponsor, so to speak. Fewer vampires going crazy and killing folk, fewer messes we hunters gotta clean up, and like I mentioned, we’ve got bigger problems on our hands right now. Comprende?”
Benny opens up the package of straws carefully, pulling out a yellow one. “Say that’s true. Fair ‘nough. Alright, I’ll bite, metaphorically speaking. But if it turns out your double-crossing me, here… Last hunter that tried that ended up a little less than healthy. Didn’t want to do it, but he was threatening innocent folk. My great-granddaughter, for one. I didn’t exactly have much of a choice in that matter. Been running in the weeks since, so you can imagine I’m a little on the jumpy side.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, then a laugh. “Hang on… Aww, crap. Did you kill Crazy Martin? Because if you did, I mean, balls, that was bad, but from the sounds of the witness report… That guy should have never gotten out of the crazy bin. So, nah, not going to blame you, there.”
This is a strange conversation, even by Benny’s relatively lax standards for that. “You don’t seem much surprised.”
“Well… It was obvious from what I heard of what happened that it was self defense, so to find out a relatively good sort of vampire did it, nah… Not exactly surprised. Bummer, though. Your granddaughter, though? Huh. Alright. Swear by… Mr. Fizzles, it’s normal, good ole fashioned blood. Nothing hinky…”
“That so?”
“Well, you gonna have a drink or not?”
Benny lets out a long breath. He won’t ask what a ‘Fizzles’ is. Modern slang was bad enough, without trying to go any deeper into it. Tossing aside the straw, he forcibly rips the lid off the cooler. “Reckon I will. I’ll be more in a talking sort of mood in a minute.”
“Sure thing. I can wait. Got a pretty good parking spot here. ”
Four empty blood bags later, Benny is feeling a bit more… Well, not human, but less ravening, certainly. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and picks up the phone again.
“Well, I ain’t dead or passed out, so there’s something.”
“Course not. Told you.”
“Now, when you say ‘bigger problems’, what kind of thing you talking about?”
“Oh, you know, consolidating the mess that is the American hunting community, collating data, dealing with demons and prophets and keeping the idjit Winchesters out of trouble…”
Benny grins toothily. “Since I doubt there’s a lot of other Winchesters out there… I’m assuming you know Dean, then? And his brother too, I suppose, though he and I ain’t on the best of terms right now, so I’d appreciate you not mentioning me to him.”
“Wait… How do you know Dean? And I just realized something… I don’t know your name. That strikes me as rude. Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway… Nice to meet you…”
“Benny. And how I know Dean is a mighty long story.”
“Did you say Benny?”
“Yeah. How come?”
“Dude, is Sam pissed at you over Crazy Martin or something? That sucks, because not too long ago, Dean was possessed by the ghost coin, and he started talking about some guy called Benny that Sam didn’t seem to like, and how the dude was “like a brother to him”… Man, it was a messed up such… I’m guessing you’re that Benny?”
“I might be. He really say that?”
“Yep. Though I’m thinking Sam doesn’t like you, so he dumped your ass as a friend? What an idjit.”
“S’alright. I can deal.”
“No, I am calling Dean, and telling him what exactly how big an idjit he is. Guy doesn’t have a lot of friends left in the world, he needs to look after the one’s he got besides me and Kevin and that angel guy he’s got all that weird tension with.”
“Angel guy? There another angel?”
“Well, there are lots of angels, but I just know that one in the trench coat. Think he’s hanging around Dean still, last I checked. Not too sure.”
“How’d Cas get out of Purgatory?”
“Wait, Purgatory? What’s with the Purgatory thing? Because I don’t think Dean really spent a year in a gay bar in Miami… With an angel and a vampire? I’m guessing I missed a memo somewhere along here.”
“If Dean ain’t told you ‘bout Purgatory, I ain’t going to talk about it neither. But you’re saying Castiel’s alive?”
“He stopped by to visit Kevin a couple of weeks back with Dean.”
“What’s a Kevin?”
“Ah. Not sure if I can tell you that one.”
“Fair enough. I hardly know you and all. “
“How do you feel about demons?”
“They smell, and the whole world would be a good bit better without ‘em.”
“Huh. Cool. Alright. Well, I’m guessing you don’t have anywhere to be, since you don’t have to go raiding that blood bank tonight. You good for gas?”
“For the moment.”
“Want to take a little road trip?”
“Where to?”
“Warsaw, Missouri?”
“Sure.”