Work Text:
SLAM.
The air was thick and cold. Like a fog that refused to dissipate. Oxygen trapped in his lungs. Tears threatening to spill over. They argued. Not a domestic, casual argument. A nasty one. The ones where miscellaneous items get thrown at each other, the ones where the nastiest insults are said. He didn't mean any of it, he really didn't. It was a reflex for him. Even after all these years, reflex took over, and that reflex was the reason Sam shut the door behind him.
Tank leaned on the counter, hyperventilating. "Fuck, shit, goddamnit!" Slamming his fist onto the counter, then into the wall of the hallway, then into the door into the bedroom.
That smell.
The smell of his mate fills his senses once he enters the bedroom, guilt taking over every thought. He grabbed his phone off the bed and walked out onto the balcony, looking over the driveway. The Jeep is still there. Sam must've ran, didn't bother taking the car, despite having the keys.
Nevermind- He didn't have the keys.
Those keys hit Tank in the chest 15 minutes ago.
Instead of thinking any longer, Tank hit David's contact.
RINGING big alpha
"Hello?"
"David."
"Woah, Tanker, you sound like you've been screaming."
"I have been."
"What's wrong?"
"I'll explain when.. eventually. Are you busy?"
"Not exactly, how come?"
"..Can I come over?"
And that's how Tank ended up sobbing in David's arms, incomprehensibly trying to explain the argument. "David I didnt mean a single thing, I swear-" Hic. "I swear on everything-" David squeezes him tighter, rubbing his back. "Shh, shh. It'll be alright. Breathe, Tank. Breathe."
This was the first argument he’s had since Quinn, at least on this level, and it’s not like Tank hadn’t argued with Sam before, every couple does. But it never got physical. They'd never screamed at each other. Sam never hurt them before.
A light bruise forming on his chest where the keys hit him an hour ago. Vampire strength, amiright?
"Thank you, Cece."
"Of course, you definitely need the bath, and the snacks, and the-"
"He understands, Angel."
"Right! Right, my apologies..! I'll leave you two alone."
Once Cecelia leaves the room, Tank sighs. At this point feeling numb, no tears left to be shed. "What was the argument even about?" David shuts the door, turning to face Tank. "Turning. Biting. Vampire stuff." Tank sits on the edge of the bath, tossing his phone onto the counter with a loud thud.
"And it got that.. Bad?" David grabs Tank’s phone and puts it on do not disturb before putting it in his pocket, Tank doesn't need the anxiety from it.
"I was being pushy. Rightfully so, in my opinion. Samuel refuses to talk about turning, and I understand he has a bad connotation with it, he didn't have a good turning, nor did his progeny. But for gods sake, David! It’s been how long?" Tank slams his fist into the wall, denting it slightly.
"Tank. I understand you want to talk to him about that stuff, but just how long did it take you two to get together in the first place? Just how long did it take you to let yourself love him after all you'd been through?" David cocks his head to the side, making eye contact with Tank. He looks away, about to respond without thinking. Spark another argument. Tank shuts himself up before the words spill.
David sighs. "You need to apologize. I’m not mad at you, nor Sam. You say things before you think, especially when you're provoked. You did it as a kid, you do it now. I'm your brother, I know you."
Tank tries to hide the tears, David steps forward and pulls him into an embrace, albeit a bit forcefully.
"I think after all this time, even Sam should've known that, and he should've tried calming you down before you said all that nasty shit to him. But what happened, already happened. You're gonna have to talk to him toni-"
Tank pushes back and looks David in the eyes, cutting him off. "Can I stay the night? Please, I can't go back home right now. I'll talk to him tomorrow, I swear. Let me get my thoughts together."
Disappointment and doubt looms over what was David's concerned expression. "Please." David sighs, letting Tank go. "Fine, but you're going home in the morning. Not after sundown." Tank sighs in defeat. “Okay." David steps back and checks the time. 9:37P.M. "You know where everything is, I'm going to bed. Don't do anything stupid." Tank nods.
Tank finishes his bath, putting on whatever amalgamation of clothes he had at David's house from the last time he ended up crashing at his place. Lucky for Tank, its actual pajamas. He quietly makes his way to the guest room, realizing David still took his phone. No texting Sam a half-assed apology and running away from his problems, dammit.
11:42P.M.
"I’m so sorry, Darlin I-"
"Darlin?"
Sam walks into the apartment, silence and darkness filling every corner. The smell of his mate fills his senses once he enters the apartment, guilt taking over every thought.
“Where the fuck is he.."
Sam checks every room and closet, no Tank. Signs of Tank, however. Holes in the walls, the smell of a dozen cigarettes, papers flung across the counter. But no tank.
Sam sits at the dinner table, thinking some more. Where could he be? Where did he go to? Who did he go to? Sam's eyes deter from the table and over to the kitchen, the memory of himself throwing keys at his darling mate flashing before himself.
Sadness and guilt hit him for a short moment before anger and frustration does. Remembering why he threw the keys.
"If you're SOO mad, then go!" Tank speaks with condescension in his voice, standing up straight from his slouched position mere seconds prior. "I fuckin will, bloodbag." Sam chucks the keys at Tank, unbeknownst to wherever they land. He doesn't care right now, he needs to breathe. "Ow- you fucking whore!" Is the last thing he hears Tank yell at him before he bolts out the door.
Mad at himself, Sam cleans up the apartment a bit. Putting papers in order, organizing miscellaneous things. Afterward, he lays on the couch, taking out his phone. No notifications. He hesitantly presses the contact on his phone, trying not to overthink it, nor put much thought into it at all.
RINGING tanker <3
No answer. He doesn't bother calling again, Tank ignoring him is valid right now, according to Sam. He lays on that couch all night, restless. He's a vampire, he doesn't need sleep, after all.
7:12A.M.
Tanks hands shake with anxiety, he's been overthinking what Sam is going to say to him all morning. Is Sam even home? Will he come home? He pushes the key into the door. Twisting slowly, trying to stall as much as possible. He's already sat in the car for 20 minutes.
He opens the door.
"..Darlin?"
"Samuel."