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Raphael never prepared Simon for murder.
He and Simon had been on their way to a vampire meeting across town (Raphael takes joy out of dragging Simon to the most boring gatherings as a punishment after the betrayal) when they’re attacked by a newborn, dirt still clinging to his clothes and his eyes dark with hunger.
Raphael had seen few fledglings in the decades he had been a vampire. Vampires overall don’t Turn Mundanes unless they’re getting ready for war or disease or enemies has caused their numbers to plummet, so he only really has been in contact with Simon as a fledgling. And he was prepared to welcome him back from the dead back then; he had blood and knew what to do once he emerged.
This fledgling, however, this one looks like he was all alone when he got reborn. He doesn’t look like someone was there to feed him and to tell him what he was now. Raphael feels bad for him, but he barely has the time to explain what he’s become before the young fledgling is flinging himself towards them.
Raphael can grab him by the waist before he can attack Simon, whose blood still vaguely smells like Mundane blood even after months of being a vampire. He throws the youngling to the ground and presses his knee against his chest to keep him pinned down.
“Hey, it’s okay!” Raphael tries to tell him, but the fledgling is all snarls and hunger. There’s no room to listen to anything else than his instinct.
“Fuck, Simon, help me keep him down,” he instructs, and Simon is immediately by his side holding down his hands.
“Hey, listen to me. I’m Raphael. I can help you, but you need to calm down first. What’s your name?”
The fledgling hisses and claps his jaws at Raphael, his fangs long and sharp.
“Look, you’ve been Turned. You’re a vampire now, but I can help – I swear. I’m the New York clan leader and I can get you blood if you just – ”
“Blood!” The fledgling snarls, and he frees himself out of Simon’s grip with ease to lunge towards Raphael instead.
Raphael’s back crashes against the ground so hard it leaves a crack in the asphalt. He grunts with pain and tries to squirm away, but the fledgling is stronger thanks to the Mundane blood still running through his veins and the hunger burning his throat. Raphael knows out of experience that you will drain anything of blood if you’re hungry, especially when you’re newly emerged, and he tries to free himself before the fledgling can lock his strong jaws around his throat.
“Listen – just listen!” He pleads, sudden fear blooming in the pit of his stomach, “calm down! I can help, I can give you a home. Please stop – ” But the fledgling is only listening to the ugly voice in his head telling him to feed, feed, feed, rip, rip, rip and then a pair of fangs is breaking Raphael’s sensitive skin and there is no pleasure but only pain and the fledgling has his hands around his throat and is squeezing like a child would squeeze a juice box and though Raphael doesn’t need to breathe he’s still gasping and –
He feels the fledgling dying more than he hears or sees it.
The blood dripping onto Raphael’s shirt is still somewhat warm and the blood dripping onto his lips tastes of Mundane and vampire mixed together. He darts his eyes over the face of the fledging hovering above him, his mouth open in a silent scream and blood dripping from his lips, and then the face cracks and suddenly there’s no face at all, just dust raining down on him.
Simon is standing with a lead pipe in his hands, blood dripping from it and his hands shaking. He lets the pipe fall to the ground to reach for Raphael’s hand instead to pull him up, and once he’s back onto his feet Raphael can feel his shirt clinging to his skin with the blood of that fledgling.
“Are you okay?” Simon asks, checking for injuries. He tries to cup his cheeks to tilt his head sideways, but suddenly Raphael can’t stand to be touched anymore. He takes a step back to lean against the wall, feeling so dizzy he’s sure he’s going to faint. He’s aware of his chest heaving and hears himself gasp for air. There’s blood rushing in his ears, so loud it almost drowns out everything else.
“I – I can’t breathe,” he manages to say, tears suddenly pooling in the corners of his eyes. His legs are trembling too now, so hard Raphael thinks he’s going to fall to the ground.
“Raphael, I think you’re having a panic attack,” Simon says, his voice sounding muffled and distant. The words don’t really register with him. Nothing really does except the feeling of the still warm blood on his face and shirt, blood of a fledgling he couldn’t save. And suddenly it feels like his skin is crawling where the blood is and he needs to get rid of it, to get it off. He claws at his shirt until it rips, his breath ragging through his throat.
“Off, it needs – it needs to get off,” he heaves between gasps for air. He feels like he’ll go insane or maybe even die if he doesn’t get rid of the blood.
“Okay, alright,” Simon says softly. His hands are hovering over Raphael’s, close enough for Raphael to feel the warmth coming off them but not touching him.
“Can I touch you? Are you okay with me touching you right now?”
Raphael jerks his head in a curt nod and then Simon’s hands are around his wrists, gently pulling them away from his shirt.
“You’re hurting yourself, Raphael.”
“I can’t – Simon, the blood – I’m – ”
“I know, we’ll get it off. We’re not far away from Magnus’ apartment, okay? I have some clothes there and you can take a shower. Does that sound alright?”
Raphael nods again, unable to speak. He notices his shaking hands in Simon’s, his long fingernails covered in blood. He didn’t even realize his claws had come out until now. That probably explains the stinging on his chest – he probably broke his own skin trying to get the fledgling’s blood off his clothes.
“Can you walk?” Simon asks. Raphael tries to take a step but his knees buckle almost immediately. Luckily, Simon is there to support him.
“Is it okay if I help you walk or would you rather stay here until it passes?”
The thought of having to stay here, where a fledgling had found his early death because Raphael had failed as the leader he’s supposed to be, makes Raphael’s breathing pick up again.
“Magnus’,” he says, hoping Simon understands. Simon nods and wraps an arm around Raphael’s waist, supporting him as they go.
Simon talks on their way to Magnus’ loft. Raphael can’t say what exactly he’s talking about, but the sound of his voice is helping him focus on anything other than hyperventilating.
Raphael’s breathing is almost back to normal when they finally reach the loft. He’s still trembling and his chest still feels like there’s a weight placed on it, but he tries to focus on Simon next to him instead of the blood still clinging to his ripped shirt.
Magnus opens the door before they can knock, probably having sensed them upon arriving. His eyes immediately shoot to Raphael.
“Is he hurt?” He asks, stepping aside for the two vampires to enter.
“Panic attack,” Simon says, “we need to get him into the shower.”
“Okay,” Magnus nods. He leads them to his huge bathroom with walk-in shower and helps Raphael out of his ruined clothes.
“Does he get them more often?” Simon asks.
“Sometimes. It’s been a while since the last one, though,” Magnus replies.
They help him into the shower and Simon stays with him while Magnus goes to fetch some of Simon’s clothes still lying around from after the betrayal. He washes the blood off Raphael’s face and chest, gentle as always.
“You’re already healing,” Simon comments when he notices the self-inflicted slashes on his chest.
“That’s good. You’re doing so well, Raphael. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
He washes away the dried blood with a washing cloth and helps Raphael out of the shower, wrapping a big towel around his still trembling body. Raphael is vaguely aware that he’s cold – something that only happens when he’s having a panic attack.
Magnus is back with a pile of Simon’s clothes and puts them down for Raphael. Simon thanks him and then turns back to Raphael, who’s still just standing there.
“Do you need help getting dressed or do you think you’ll be okay?” He asks.
Raphael takes a deep breath and looks Simon in the eye for probably the first time in an hour, “I think I’ll be okay.”
Simon smiles encouragingly, briefly stroking his thumb over Raphael’s shoulder before leaving him to it.
Raphael gets dressed slower than he usually would, having to sit down to put on Simon’s pants because he’s still dizzy an lightheaded. Magnus brought him a faded Star Wars shirt that’s slightly too small but it still smells like Simon so he isn’t complaining.
Simon and Magnus are talking on the couch when he finally emerges from the bathroom. Simon jumps up when he sees him and smiles again, small and intimate.
Raphael wishes Simon would walk over to him so he has someone to lean on. Standing up is exhausting and his legs feel weak and like they could give in underneath him any moment now.
“Magnus,” Raphael says, his voice sounding small and shaking even to his own ears.
“Can I use your spare bedroom? I need to lie down.”
“Of course,” Magnus nods, “you know the way.”
Raphael looks back to Simon.
“Will you come with me? Please?”
Simon is quick to nod and follow him to Magnus’ spare bedroom. Raphael immediately crawls in bed and pulls the sheets up over his head, only leaving a small hole to peek through.
“Can you lie down with me?” He asks, his voice muffled by the sheets but still audible.
Simon gets in with him without saying anything. Raphael reaches out to him underneath the sheets and pulls him against his back.
“Is this okay?” Simon asks.
“This is perfect,” Raphael sighs, his muscles relaxing slowly. He feels drained and exhausted and just wants to sleep this whole thing off.
So he does, and Simon stays with him the entire time.
***
They talk when Raphael wakes up several hours later, tucked away in their own little blanket cocoon. They’re on their sides, facing each other, and Simon is holding Raphael’s hand.
Raphael tells him about past panic attacks, about what usually triggers them. And Simon keeps apologizing for having killed that fledgling, that he wouldn’t have done it if he’d known.
“It’s okay,” Raphael says, squeezing his hand.
“You saved my life. If you hadn’t been there, he would’ve killed me. It’s just – I don’t know. I wish I could’ve saved him. Fledglings deserve better than Sires who bury them but don’t wait for them to be reborn. I really thought I could help him.”
Then he shrugs.
“Blood used to trigger panic attacks when I was still human. Ironic, right? A vampire scared of blood. Well, I grew out of my fear after some time, but in the beginning I would often get panic attacks when I got hungry. And I think what triggered it tonight was the combination of having a rogue fledgling and him dying and the blood.”
“I wish it could’ve gone differently too,” Simon whispers, looking away from Raphael’s gaze, “but he was killing you and I didn’t see any other way.”
“It’s okay, Simon.” Raphael reaches up to cup Simon’s cheek and stroke his cheekbone with his thumb.
“Are you okay, though? That was your first kill and I didn’t even give you the time to process it.”
“I’m fine,” Simon says, and he looks like he means it.
“I didn’t even think about it. All I saw was you on the ground and I had to do something to save your life. But, in case this is coming back to kick my ass later as some kind of late reaction, you’ll be there to help me through it too, right?”
Raphael smiles.
“Of course I will be. We’re here for each other.”
Simon mimics his smile and shifts closer to him, their noses almost touching now.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his breath tickling Raphael’s cheeks.
Raphael closes his eyes and hums.
Their kiss is soft, much like it always is. Raphael is so used to biting kisses, intended to hurt and draw blood. He’s used to grabbing fingers and long claws and fangs, sharp and dangerous, reminding him of what he’s supposed to be: a predator.
But kissing Simon doesn’t make him feel like he’s supposed to be dangerous, that he’s a monster. Kissing him is soft, kissing him makes him believe that he could be human, that he could be gentle. It makes him believe that someone is going to be there when he breaks, that Simon will pick up his pieces when he crumbles. That he is safe.
And his lips are warm. Raphael knows this shouldn’t be possible, but they are. And he imagines that this is what sunlight feels like.