Archive of Our Own

The emergency department was dealing with the usual, early morning chaos as Robby came in. He nodded at some staff, tried to make sure it wasn’t too obvious he was stifling a yawn. It was going to be one of those regularly messy days, he could feel it.

He moved to the central desks, nodding hi at Dana and immediately getting a chart pressed into hands in form of greeting.

“Mr Henderson is almost ready to go home I think.” Dana told him. “Go free up some beds.” She was already turning back to her desk, making Robby chuckle and shake his head.

He knew better than to argue with her, though.

Robby headed over to the room, reading the notes as he wandered in to greet the older man in the bed as Princess was hanging a new IV.

“Alright, Mr. Henderson,” Robby said, his voice a warm, stead. “The CT looks clear. That headache is a nasty one, but we’re going to get you some better meds and hydration, and you should be feeling a lot more human soon.” He promised.

“More human,” A voice echoed behind him. Robby turned to see Jack sauntering in, shifting his weight from foot to foot a bit as he offered Robby a dry smirk, “Setting the bar low today, Robby? I’d aim for ‘able to tolerate sunlight without weeping,’ but that’s just me, I aim for the skies.” His eyes twinkled amusedly as he nodded at Mr. Henderson too.

Robby didn’t look up from the chart, but a smile touched his lips as he shook his head.

“Some of us strive for achievable patient outcomes, Jack. We’ll start with feeling human, and might progress to staring into the sun without pain later.” He told the other doctor, “And welcome to the day shift, the sun sure is a lot more common for us.” He added, finally looking up. Jack was smirking at him, nodding. It had been one of the rare cases where the day staff had been more understaffed than usual, and Jack had been dragged in to help out.

Well, dragged in wasn’t exactly the right word. Robby had easily managed to convince Jack to take the shift with some kisses and promises of how fun it would be.

Jack called him a liar but had agreed. They didn’t get the chance often to work together, it might actually be fun.

Whitaker, in the room with Mr. Henderson too, had gone a bit rigid. The student doctor had grown a lot in his 6 months working in the ED, and was comfortable around Robby, but Jack’s sharp wit seemed to rattle him.

“Whitaker,” Robby called, his tone shifting to the gentle, instructive one he used with students. “Let’s go over Mr. Henderson’s medication list. I want your thoughts on potential interactions.”

“Yes, Dr. Robinavitch,” Dennis murmured, scurrying over, his clipboard clutched like a shield. His big blue eyes flicked to Jack for a moment. Jack raised a brow at him, before straightening up and walking over too to stand just behind Dennis’ shoulder. The student stiffened visibly.

“Relax, kid,” Jack said, not unkindly. “Your attending here isn’t going to bite. Me, on the other hand…” He let the sentence hang, his sharp blue eyes glinting. Robby sighed, but a smile was playing on his lips. Dennis stared at him for a long moment

“I… I’ll remember that, Dr. Abbot.” He said, concern genuine on his face.

“Stop terrorizing the med students, Abbot.” Robby warned. Jack shrugged.

“It’s how we teach them during the nightshift, ask Shen.” He replied easily, before sauntering away to find another case.

The shift wore on. They fell into a seamless rhythm together. It worked, Robby’s calm demeanor fitting right with Jack’s more direct, swift approach. Dennis kept diligently close, presenting cases and observing Robby, and sending unsure, cautious looks Jack’s way. The kid’s eyes were massive and did nothing to hide his nervousness around Jack.

Jack found it very entertaining.

But as the hours crawled past noon towards the long afternoon, Robby noticed something. Dennis, who had always been pale and tired looking, was starting to look even more pale and tired looking than usual. The shadows under his eyes were so dark they were almost purple, and his movements seemed slower than usual. Not more hesitant, just, sluggish.

“Dennis,” Robby said during a lull, placing a concerned hand on the younger man’s shoulder to stop him from directly scurrying off to the next case. “You feeling alright? You’re looking a little worse for wear.” He asked. Dennis flinched at the touch, which surprised Robby. Dennis had sometimes seemed surprised at a touch but never alarmed before.

“I’m fine, Dr. Robinavitch. Just… long week. Didn’t sleep much.” His voice was thin, his eyes avoiding Robby’s face. Robby squeezed his shoulder again, wanting to ask further.

“Uh-huh,” Jack spoke up from where he was typing notes with two fingers while Javadi was looking at his typing with a slight look of disgust. Jack didn’t stop typing, but his eyes flicked to Dennis, “When’s the last time you ate, Whitaker?”

“I had… a coffee. This morning,” Dennis mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Jack snorted.

“A coffee,” Jack repeated flatly. “Not a food group, last I checked.” Robby raised an amused brow, but agreed fully.

“I’ll grab a granola bar later,” Dennis insisted, but his words were slightly slurred, like it was costing him way too much effort to get them out.

Something wasn’t right.

Robby was about to order him to take a break when Dana popped up.

“Multiple vehicle collision. Two patients, ETA 3 minutes.”

They all jumped into action, getting trauma bays ready. Jack shoved some gloves into Robby’s hands and barked some orders. Robby listened along, nodding in agreement here and there. He had just finished snapping on the gloves when he heard a soft, heavy thud. Not sharp enough to be a dropped instrument, but denser, bigger-

He turned, eyes widening in alarm.

Dennis was on the floor, slumped against the crash cart, a box of sterile gauze packets scattered around him like oversized confetti. His face was utterly, terrifyingly bloodless, not just pale, but white as a sheet, like a marble statue.

“Dennis!” Robby was at his side in three long strides, McKay stepping in in his place next to the patient. Robby dropped to his knees, fingers going to the carotid pulse on Dennis’s neck. “Jack! I need a hand!” Jack was already there, his movements brisk and efficient.

“Room four is empty. Let’s move.” He didn’t wait for permission. He hooked his hands under Dennis’s shoulders while Robby took his feet. Together, they lifted the unnervingly light student and carried him into the vacant examination room, getting him on the examination table.

“Dennis? Can you hear me?” Robby asked urgently, pressing the stethoscope against his chest. There was a faint, fluttery moan. Dennis’s eyelids trembled but didn’t open.
Robby listened to his heart. His own breath hitched. “What the hell…? Bradycardic. Forty-five and thready. Respiration shallow.” Jack leaned in to pull back Dennis’s eyelids, shining his penlight.

“Pupils reactive but slow.” He pressed the back of his hand to Dennis’s forehead. “Skin is cool, clammy.” His brow was furrowed, but he wasn’t as frantic or confused as Robby, who carded a hand through his hair.

“Okay, Okay… This isn’t just hypoglycemia or exhaustion. This looks like… I don’t know, a cardiogenic or neurogenic shock presentation, but he’s young, he’s…” He trailed off, running through differentials, nothing fitting quite right.

Jack, meanwhile, wasn’t checking vitals anymore. He was staring at Dennis’s face with a quiet intensity that Robby missed completely. His sharp eyes were scanning, cataloging: the extreme pallor, the almost translucent quality of the skin at his temples. And then, as Dennis’s head lolled to the side, his lips parted just slightly.

There. A glimpse of white. Not teeth. Fangs. The two canine teeth elongated and pointed, subtle but noticeable.

Robby didn’t see it. He was focused on the monitor he was hooking up.

“We need fluids, atropine maybe, get a line in him…” he was continuing to ramble.

“No.” Jack interrupted firmly.

Robby looked up, confused. Jack was already moving to the door. But instead of opening it to call for help, he grabbed the back of the padded visitor’s chair and wedged it firmly under the door handle, barricading them in.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Robby’s confusion spiraled into alarm. “We need the crash team, we need-”

“We don’t need a crash team,” Jack said, turning back. He seemed focused, sure. There was no panic in his eyes. “I know what this is. Seen it before.”

“Seen what before? His heart is barely beating!” Robby told him sharply, pointing at the monitors that were showing scarily low vital signs.

“Yeah,” Jack said, striding back to the examination table. “Because it doesn’t need to beat hard. Not when there’s no blood in the tank to pump around.” He leaned over Dennis, his voice dropping, low and commanding.

“Whitaker. Dennis. Look at me.” He said, shaking Dennis’s shoulder, not gently. “Open your eyes. Now.”

Dennis’s eyelids fluttered open. His pupils were blown wide, the blue almost swallowed by black, and they held a desperate, feral hunger that made Robby take an involuntary step back. There was something rather unhuman about those eyes.

A low, guttural sound vibrated in Dennis’s throat. A warning, a calling.

Jack didn’t flinch. He held that wild gaze, his own blue eyes steady as stone.

“Listen to me. You’re in crisis. You need to feed. I am consenting.” He told Dennis slowly, making sure the younger man’s eyes stayed on him. “Do you understand? I am willing. I am offering.” Robby’s mind blanked hearing it.

“Jack, have you lost your damn mind? Offering what?” he was stepping to the door but a glare from Jack stopped him in his tracks. Jack turned his attention back to Dennis.

“You will feed from me. You will stop when I tell you to, you hear me? You have my consent.” His voice was a low, clear. With one hand, he pulled at the collar of his scrub top, yanking the neckline aside to expose the strong line of his neck and the pulse point hammering under it. With the other, he gently but firmly guided Dennis’s head, turning it towards his neck until the younger’s nose brushed against the skin.

Slowly but surely, it dawned on Robby what was happening. The pale skin, the talk of feeding, the slight point of Dennis’s teeth as his lips parted close to Jack’s neck, it all finally clicked together.

“No. Jack, no! You can’t be serious! Dennis, stop!” Robby lunged forward, intending to pull them apart. Jack’s free arm shot out, hand pressing square in the middle of Robby’s chest, holding him back. His eyes never left Dennis.

“It’s okay, Robby,” Jack gritted out, his voice strained but sure. “He won’t take too much. He’s not a monster. He’s just a kid who forgot to eat.” He seemed certain of himself. He turned to Dennis again, softly tugging the hair at the nape of his neck that was curling slightly.

“It’s okay. Go on.” Jack’s voice was gentle, patient. Dennis needed no further urging. A shudder wracked his thin frame. His mouth opened wider, and Robby saw the fangs fully extended, sharp and glimmering. With a soft, desperate sound, Dennis bit down.

It wasn’t violent, or dramatic, like Robby had expected. It was precise, clinical. Sharp and quick with a content, deep sucking noise that sounded as Dennis’s lips sealed over the wounds.

Jack’s body jolted. His shoulders went tense as his eyes slammed shit. The hand braced on the table next to Dennis clenched into a tight fist. But he didn’t pull away. He held firm, one hand still pressed to the center of Robby’s chest to keep him from interfering.

The heart monitor, still attached to Dennis, was beginning to change. Robby averted his gaze, watching the numbers climb and climb to healthier numbers with every suckle.

Robby was in awe, confused, but Dennis seemed to be getting truly better. He was drinking contentedly, soft happy noises vibrating against Jack’s neck as his cheeks slowly grew rosy and alive again. His eyes blinked open, no longer dazed but filled with bliss, his hand coming up to rest on Jack’s shoulder, more clingy than possessive.

“See?” Jack’s voice was a strained whisper, his eyes still closed. His breathing was deeper, a little ragged. “He’s… he’s fine. Just… needed this.” His hand twitched against the back of Dennis’s head before it pulled on the blond hair more firmly. An unmistakable tug that signaled the end.

“Alright,” Jack grunted, his voice thicker now. “That’s enough, kid. Time’s up.”
The response was immediate. Dennis whimpered, a sound of protest so faint it was almost inaudible, but the sucking stopped. He went limp, his body slumping back against the table, his mouth releasing its seal with a soft, wet pop.

He lay there, panting, his chest rising and falling in sharp, rapid breaths. His eyes were closed, long blond lashes fanning over cheeks that now held a hint of color again. He looked exhausted, mortified, and most of all: relieved.

Jack swayed on his feet for a second. He reached blindly for the surgical tray beside the table, his fingers fumbling before closing on a stack of sterile gauze. He pressed a wad of it hard against the side of his neck, hissing through his teeth at the pressure, covering the two small puncture wounds that were welling sluggishly with dark red blood.

“Okay,” Jack breathed, leaning heavily on the table. “Okay. That’s… that’s done.” He let out a deep breath, the swaying settling. Robby wasn’t sure what to say, but rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder just in case he would faint.

It was Dennis who moved next.

His eyes fluttered open. The wild hunger and fear was gone, replaced by his familiar, gentle anxiety, combined with a look of horror that made Robby’s heart ache for him. His gaze went from Jack’s pale face, to the gauze pressed to his neck. His own hand flew to his mouth, touching his lips, coming away with a tiny smear of red.

“Oh, God,” Dennis whispered, the words choked. “Dr. Abbot… I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” His voice broke, eyes widening as they flicked back and forth between Jack and Robby, bracing himself.

“You didn’t take too much,” Jack said, his voice regaining some of its usual dry timber, though it was weary. “You stopped. Just like I knew you would.” Dennis nodded distractedly, gaze focusing on the crook of Jack’s neck again. He swallowed heart, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“But I… I didn’t… I didn’t seal it.” He looked genuinely distraught, as if he’d committed the gravest breach of etiquette imaginable. “I didn’t close it for you, I let you bleed. I was so… I forgot, I’m sorry…”

Before either doctor could react, Dennis leaned forward. His movement was weak but determined. Gently, he pushed Jack’s hand, still holding the gauze, aside. Jack stiffened but allowed it, watching him with that same unreadable, sharp gaze.

Dennis bent his head to the exposed punctures on Jack’s neck, letting out another sorry noise as more blood welled up at the wounds. His tongue darted out, a quick, efficient swipe over the twin marks. He did it again, a soft, cleansing motion, his shoulders losing tension. A faint, pearlescent sheen was left on Jack's skin as Dennis pulled back, and as Robby watched, dumbfounded, the active bleeding stopped immediately. The wounds themselves seemed to get smaller, seal over, until it left just two pinkish pinpricks. Dennis sat back, satisfied, his own breath still catching.

“Thank you,” he murmured, clearly forcing himself to meet Jack's eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Abbot. I’m so sorry. Thank you. I didn’t… I haven’t let it get that bad in years, I just lost track of time with rotations and I… thank you.” he rambled. Jack nodded tiredly, before turning to Robby, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a ghost of a smile.

“Well,” Jack said, his voice deceptively light. “This has been a more interesting shift than usual.”

Robby stared at the two men, at his… friend, his Jack, and his student, looking both revitalized and utterly shattered.

Robby still wasn't sure he was processing what he had just seen, but Jack seemed fine and Dennis seemed a lot healthier again, so Robby saw no direct reason to panic.

“Okay,” Jack said again, the word firmer now. He took a deliberate breath, straightening his shoulders. “Now that we managed to leave Robby speechless and Dennis looks like he has a heartbeat again, we need to come up with a plan.” Robby frowned.

“A plan for what?” He asked, watching Dennis sit up, eyes fluttering closed as he curled his arms around his knees. Jack steadied the younger man with a firm grip on the back of his neck, grounding him.

“First things first. We can’t have him walking out of here looking like that.” Jack said firmly. Robby frowned.

“Looking like what? Alive?” he asked. Jack shot him a look, before using his hand on the back of Dennis's neck to tilt his head back.

“Look at his eyes, Robby.” Jack said. Robby did. Dennis’s pupils were still massively dilated, the pale blue of his irises just a thin ring around pools of black. It was unnerving, although Robby knew it wasn't scary. But he also knew what it would look like.

“They’ll think he’s on something,” Robby sighed, agreeing. “Amphetamines. MDMA. It would trigger a tox screen, a whole disciplinary review.”

“Exactly,” Jack said. He moved to the sink, wet a paper towel, and handed it to Dennis. “Clean your face, just for any… residue.” Dennis took it with trembling hands, wiping clumsily at his mouth and chin. The towel came away with a faint pinkish smear. He looked at it with fresh horror.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll… I’ll leave. I’ll quit. You won’t have to see me again.” he started to ramble again, his chest heaving.

“Oh, shut up, kid,” Jack said, but there was no heat in it. “You’re not quitting. You just almost died from negligence, you didn't endanger anyone else. When was your last real feed?” Dennis shrunk into himself.

“Three weeks,” he whispered, ducking his head in shame. Jack whistled low.

“Christ. And you’ve been pulling double shifts. No wonder you crashed.” He turned to Robby, who was still leaning against the wall for support. “We need to keep him in here, out of sight, until shift change. The post-feed haze should wear off in a couple hours, the pupils will normalize. Then we get him out quietly.”

“And then where does he go? Home?” Robby asked, straightening up. This was practical, this was something he could help with. Jack shook his head

“Our place,” Jack said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Robby raised a surprised eyebrow while Dennis's head snapped up

“Your… your place?” Dennis stammered. “I couldn’t possibly impose, Dr. Abbot, I’ll be fine, I’ll just go home and-”

“Your home is a shitty apartment with a roommate. And as much as I respect Santos's fire, I'm guessing she doesn't know how to take care of a half-starved vampire, and I bet your blood supply is conveniently gone.” Jack interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re still in deficit. That was a crisis intervention, not a full meal. Your fangs aren’t even fully retracted.”

Self-consciously, Dennis ran his tongue over his canines. Robby saw it, the tips were still visibly pointed, peeking out from his lip.

“Jack,” Robby said slowly, stepping forward. “What are you proposing? A… a follow-up feeding?” The words felt unnatural in his mouth.

“Monitoring,” Jack corrected, though his sharp blue eyes held a glint that suggested the line was fine. “I need to check his vitals over the next twelve hours. Probably keep him close for at least a month until it's established that he can take care of himself.” He looked at Dennis. “You need to learn to manage this. Properly. Before you kill yourself or scare the hell out of another attending.” Dennis looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

“A-a month? You… you’d do that? For me?” his voice was small, awed, and any hesitation Robby had fell away.

“We can help you, Dennis.” Robby said gently. He didn’t know exactly what he was agreeing to, but the kid looked so lost that Robby agreed fully with Jack’s decision to bring him with them. And besides, Robby would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t interested in seeing how vampires functioned.

“I didn’t offer my neck for my health, kid,” Jack said, a dry edge returning to his voice. “Now, the logistics. We have…four hours until end of shift. You stay put. Don’t make a sound. Robby and I will cover your absence. We’ll come back for you at 7.”

The plan was insane. But it was the only plan they had.

The next four hours were the longest of Robby’s career. Every time he passed the closed door of exam room four, his heart stuttered. He half-expected to find it swarming with security, or for Dennis to have vanished into mist. But Jack moved through the department with his usual efficient calm, taking on extra patients, deflecting questions about Dennis with a curt, “Sent him home, he was coming down with something.” that Robby agreed to fully. Trinity narrowed her eyes at them, but Jack took her aside and something he had explained to her had seemed to work, because she stopped asking questions.

Robby tried to mimic Jack’s calm, but his hands shook slightly as he sutured a laceration. His mind replayed the scene on a loop: the precise puncture, the soft sucking sounds, the look of bliss on Dennis’s face, the firm grip of Jack’s hand in his hair. It was medical. It was intimate.

Finally, the clock crawled to 6:55 PM. The night shift crew was filtering in, creating Jack like their long lost brother who had switched sides. In the controlled chaos of handover, Robby and Jack slipped away to the exam room.

Dennis was sitting on the edge of the examination table, swinging his legs nervously. He looked better, his eyes looking more human again and his skin still held a nice rosy tint. He looked like a very tired, very anxious young man. Until you looked closely at his mouth, at the tiny hint of sharp teeth.

“Fangs?” Jack asked without preamble. Dennis nodded miserably.

“They won’t go all the way back. I can feel them. It’s… it’s like they’re hungry still.” He said the last word with profound self-loathing. Robby reached out to squeeze his shoulder. As far as he knew, becoming a vampire probably hadn’t been Dennis’s first choice either, but he sure was dealing with the consequences.

“Right,” Jack said. “So, home it is. Let’s move.”

“But how?” Dennis asked, panic rising. “I can’t just walk out with you. People will see me. They’ll ask questions.” A slow, almost mischievous smile touched Jack’s lips. It was an expression Robby knew well, and it usually meant Jack was about to do something either brilliantly clever or mildly insane.

“You’re not walking out,” Jack said. “You’re going to shift, and we’ll carry you.” Robby blinked.

“Shifting? What, like… changing his clothes?” he asked, confused. Jack’s smile widened. He looked at Dennis.

“You can shift, can’t you? Most of your kind can, if they’re not too weak.” Dennis bristled slightly, eyes going wide.

“I’m not weak.” he said, teeth baring a bit on instinct. Jack wasn’t impressed.

“Yeah, but can you shift, kid?” he asked. Dennis hesitated, before sighing.

“I… I can. But it’s… I haven’t in a while. It takes energy.” he said slowly, eyes flicking to Robby as if to ask for help. Robby didn’t know how to, still clueless about what was going on.

“You just had a top-up,” Jack said. “And it’s the cleanest way. No one looks twice at a doctor carrying a bundled jacket. So. Shift.”

The command hung in the air. Dennis looked from Jack’s determined face to Robby’s utterly confused one. He swallowed, then gave a tiny, resigned nod.

“Okay. Okay, just… don’t be alarmed… and don’t laugh.” he told them, still seeming a bit unhappy with the situation. He closed his eyes, a tremor going through his body. It wasn’t a violent transformation, no stretching or bones snapping.It was a shimmer, a subtle blurring which made the air briefly grow cold.

And then, where Dennis Whitaker had been sitting, was now a small, furry creature perched on the examination table.

Robby’s breath caught.

It was a bat, but unlike any bat Robby had seen in nature documentaries. It was about the size of a large peach, with dense, plush fur that was a dusty, warm brown. Its wings were folded neatly against its body, the leathery membrane a darker shade. The face was what undid Robby completely. It had large, dark eyes that looked a little shy, anxious, very Dennis. Its ears were large and pointed, flicking with little twitches as it took in the sounds around him. It had a tiny, black nose that wiggled, sniffing the air cautiously. It looked less like a creature of the night and more like a stuffed animal brought to life.

He was absolutely adorable.

“Oh,” Robby breathed.“Oh, will you look at that.” The little bat chirped softly, a high-pitched, questioning sound. It shuffled its feet on the cool paper of the exam table, looking profoundly embarrassed. Jack’s smirk was triumphant.

“Told you. Cleanest way.” He grabbed his hoodie, holding it out to the bat.. “Alright, buddy. In the pocket you go.” The bat hesitated, then gave a clumsy flutter. It wasn’t a graceful flight, it was tired and unsure. It landed on the sleeve of the jacket and immediately scrambled into the deep inner pocket, disappearing from view with one last flick of a small, fuzzy ear.

Jack shrugged the hoodie back on, zipping it up halfway. The pocket bulged slightly, but it just looked like he was carrying a bulky phone or a small notebook.

“See? Covert ops. Now, let’s go home.” he said, patting the bump lightly. Robby just chuckled and shook his head, following Jack outside. Robby was hyper aware of the people passing them, of the guards nodding in their direction. He kept expecting a security guard to stop them, for a bat’s head to pop out and chirp.

But nothing happened.

They reached Robby’s sensible SUV. Jack climbed into the passenger seat, moving with deliberate care. Robby got behind the wheel, his hands finally steady on the familiar leather.

“You’ve… done this before.” Robby spoke as he pulled away from the hospital. Jack stared out the windshield, his profile sharp in the passing streetlights.

“In the army. Yeah. You see a lot of things. Different… needs. Had a sergeant who was a were-panther. Needed raw meat twice a month and a soundproofed tent during the full moon. Good man. Saved my unit twice.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if it was simple. “Vamps were more common. Usually in logistics or intelligence. Night vision, enhanced senses, don’t need much sleep. Very useful, but they have to be managed. You can’t let them get to the point Dennis did.” Robby hummed thoughtfully.

“And the… the feeding. It’s always like that?” he asked.

“Like what?” Jack said, glancing at him.

“So… quiet. So… polite.” Robby clarified. Jack was silent for a block.

“The monster part is a choice,” he said, his voice low. “The hunger isn’t. What you saw was hunger. It can be messy. It can be violent. If the person is scared, or the donor is unwilling. But when it’s controlled… when there’s consent and trust… It really is that simple.”
Robby thought of the little happy noises Dennis had made. The gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. The immediate, obedient stop when Jack tugged his hair.

“And us?” Robby asked quietly. “Taking him home. This… management. This is part of that?”

Jack looked at him then, his blue eyes gleaming in the dark. “He’s one of ours, Robby. Your student. He collapsed on our shift. He trusted me enough to stop.” He said it simply. “We look after our own.”

Our own.

The words settled in Robby’s chest, warm and heavy. They pulled into the driveway of the comfortable, two-story house they’d shared for a decade. It had started as a practical arrangement between two single doctors, a way to save money. Somewhere along the line, the guest room had become Jack’s study. Robby’s king-sized bed had become their bed. Warm shoulder pats became loving kisses.

They were… something, but neither felt the need to label it.

Jack got out, cradling his jacket carefully. Robby followed, unlocking the front door. Inside, Jack unzipped his jacket. He reached into the inner pocket and carefully extracted the small, furry bat. Dennis chirped again, blinking his large eyes in the light. He yawned, sharp little teeth glimmering in the dim light. He seemed content enough, cosy even.

“Okay, shift back,” Jack said, setting him gently on the polished wood floor. “You’re safe here.”

The shimmer happened again, faster this time. In a blink, the bat was gone, and Dennis was kneeling on the floor, human once more, looking disoriented and flushed. He looked around, taking in the little hints of Robby and Jack everywhere.

“You… you live together,” Dennis said slowly.

“For ten years,” Robby said, hanging his keys on the hook. It felt strangely liberating to say it so plainly. Dennis seemed confused, but nodded.

“...Okay.” he said firmly, as if determining this was perfectly normal, but he stayed knelt on the floor, looking like his entire world had been upended twice in one day. Robby took pity on him. He walked over and offered a hand.

“Come on, Dennis. Up you get. Let’s get you settled. You’re staying in the guest room tonight.” he said kindly. Dennis took his hand, his own cold and trembling.

“I… I don’t know what to say. To either of you. Thank you doesn’t… cover it.” he murmured.

“It’s a start,” Jack called from the kitchen, the sound of the faucet running for a brief moment before he returned with a glass of water. “Now, on the sofa. We need to talk about your diet.”

Dennis pulled himself up with Robby's help, swaying slightly. He took the glass from Jack with a grateful nod, drinking deeply. He wiped his mouth, avoiding their eyes.

“It’s… expensive,” he finally said, voice small. Robby guided him to the worn leather couch, sitting him down. Jack remained standing, leaning against the doorway,

“What’s expensive?” Robby asked gently, sitting beside Dennis.

“The blood. The real blood.” Dennis’s shoulders hunched. “I can’t… I mean, I’m a student. My loans are crushing. And the commercial blood centers are way too” He trailed off, shame coloring his tone. “They have specialty products. Packaged, sterile human blood. It’s safe, it’s nutrient-rich and it doesn’t carry risks. But it costs, a lot.”

“So you’ve been buying street blood.” Jack said, jaw tightening. Dennis flinched.

“Not… not always. Sometimes I’d… find donors. People who knew, who were willing. But it’s hard. You have to vet them, make sure they’re clean, make sure they’re not into it for the wrong reasons.” He swallowed. “Last time I tried a street dealer, it was bad. I got sick. Really sick. Fever, vomiting, weakness for days. I think it was contaminated. Maybe animal blood mixed in, or worse. So I… I just stopped. I thought I could stretch it. I thought if I just slept more, worked less…” He looked at Jack, his pale blue eyes desperate.

“I was stupid.” it was said with such self-loathing pain. Jack sighed.

“Yes, you were,” Jack said, his voice flat and hard. “You’re a medical professional, Dennis. You know what happens to a body when it’s deprived of a critical resource. You let your fear and your shame override your basic survival instinct. That’s just stupid.” Dennis shriveled under the stern words, nodding miserably.

“I know. I’m sorry.” he whispered. His eyes automatically went to Robby, wide and scared. Robby couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

“So what’s the solution?” Robby asked, looking at Jack. “The commercial blood?” Jack shook his head.

“Not right now. We'll help him figure out subsidies, but at the moment, it will take too long to organise. He can't wait until the morning to feed more.” Dennis’s head drooped.

“I don’t want to impose. You’ve already done so much. I can wait until the morning, buy some blood… somewhere.” he winched, not even believing his own lies.

Jack didn’t even dignify it with a reply. He just walked over, stopping in front of Dennis, looking down at him.

“Stand up.” he told the vampire. Dennis looked up, confused.

“Stand. Up,” Jack repeated, the command clear.

Dennis obeyed, slowly rising from the couch. He stood before Jack, looking like a nervous recruit before a drill sergeant.

Jack reached up and unbuttoned the top button of his henley shirt, then the next. He pulled the collar aside, exposing the side of his neck.

“You need a proper feed. A full one. Not an emergency sip.” Jack’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “I’m offering, again. You're not imposing, I want to.”

“Jack…” Robby started, but Jack cut him off with a glance.

“It’s controlled. It’s safe. He knows the rules now.” He looked back at Dennis. “Do you remember the rules?”

Dennis nodded, his eyes fixed on Jack’s neck. The hunger was there, in the slight tremor of his hands, in the way his pupils were beginning to widen again.

“I stop when you signal. I seal the wound after.” Dennis recited.

“Good.” Jack’s hand came up, not to push Dennis away, but to guide him. He placed a firm hand on the back of Dennis’s neck, turning him slightly, positioning him. “Now.”

Robby watched, heart pounding, as Dennis leaned in. He saw Dennis’s mouth open slightly, fangs poking out. Robby couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward from the couch.

“Wait,” he said, his voice quiet. Both men froze. Dennis looked at him, anxiety flashing across his face. Jack’s gaze was questioning.

“I just…” Robby reached out, his hand moving slowly, cautiously. “I want to… see… Can I?” His fingers approached Dennis’s mouth. Dennis gave a small nod.

Robby didn’t touch the fangs directly, but he brushed his fingertips against Dennis’s top lip, gently pushing it up a bit to look at the sharp point of the fangs. He was inspecting them, but there was no disgust in his eyes. He was just… curious.

“Save the clinical inspection for later, Mike.” Jack hummed, amused. Robby retracted his hand.

“Yeah, sorry. Go on Dennis.” He smiled gently. With the permission given, Dennis closed his eyes and leaned in, his mouth finding the exact same spot on Jack's neck again.

This time, Robby could watch more closely. He saw the initial flinch of pain as Dennis bit down, but then the tension smoothed away just as quickly. He saw the way Dennis’s entire body seemed to sigh, melting against Jack as he sucked with soft, content sounds. He let out a little hum as he shifted, hand curling around Jack's bicep to keep him close.

Jack’s hand came up, not to push Dennis away, but to settle firmly on the back of his head, fingers threading into the blond mullet. It was a possessive, anchoring gesture. He was monitoring, Robby realized, counting down

After another long moment, Jack’s fingers tightened in Dennis’s hair. A firm, unmistakable tug.

Dennis reacted instantly. He went pliant, his mouth releasing its seal with a soft, wet sound. He leaned back to look Jack in the eye for a moment, looking dazed, sated.

But he didn’t just stand there. His eyes dropped back to Jack’s neck, to the fresh twin punctures that welled with slow, dark beads of blood. His eyes widened, and with a little sound of distress, he leaned in again. His tongue swiped carefully, tenderly, over the wounds. Robby watched, fascinated, as the bleeding stopped almost immediately, the punctures disappearing under the touch.

But this time, Dennis didn’t stop there. Almost unconsciously, he nuzzled his nose against the now smooth skin of Jack’s neck. He inhaled deeply, then let out a long, shuddering sigh of contentment as he repeated the motion.

To Robby’s surprise, Jack chuckled, seeming genuinely amused. His hand was still in Dennis’s hair, but now it was a more gentle touch.

“What?” Robby asked, feeling like he was missing out on an inside joke. Jack shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

“Instinct. The lick heals. The nuzzle… that’s marking, claiming me.” He looked down at the dazed young vampire still nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “He’s basically putting a ’My Donor, Back Off’ sign on me for other vamps to read.”

The idea was so bizarre that Robby couldn’t help but let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious,” Jack said, but he was still smiling. He gave Dennis a gentle shake. “Alright, kid. Come back to earth. You’re done.”

Dennis blinked, seeming to realize where he was and what he’d just done. He scrambled back, his face flooding with a deep, mortified blush.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry. That’s… that’s so rude. I didn’t mean to… to scent you, Dr. Abbott, it’s just instinct, I-” he started in another ramble.

“Relax, Dennis,” Jack said, his tone finally softening into something gentle. He refastened the top button of his henley, covering the evidence. “It’s fine. Now, you look like you’re about to fall over. Sit.” He pointed to the couch.

Dennis practically fell onto it beside Robby, boneless and radiating a sleepy warmth. He looked happy, healthy. Truly healthy. Jack stretched, rolling his shoulders.

“I’m going to grab a shower. Feel… sticky.” He didn’t elaborate, before pointing at Dennis. “You, stay put. Don’t move. Robby, make sure he doesn’t try to do the dishes or something equally idiotic.” With that, he headed down the hallway, and silence descended once again. But this time, it was a comfortable one.

Dennis leaned his head back against the couch cushions, eyes closed, a small, peaceful smile on his face. Robby just watched him for a minute, the million questions lining up in his mind.

“So,” Robby began softly. “The… the transformation. Into the bat. That’s a universal trait?” Dennis’s eyes fluttered open at the question. He looked slightly embarrassed.

“Mostly, yes. Some vampires can't or simply don't want to.” Dennis explained. “But it can be useful for… quick getaways.” He added with a sheepish smile.

“And the size? You were… quite small.” Robby continued. Dennis's cheeks went pink now, a genuine, shy grin touched Dennis’s lips. “

Yeah. I’m kind of a… a runt, I guess. Not exactly intimidating, I know.” he murmured.

“I thought it was perfect,” Robby said honestly, and he meant it. Dennis’s blush returned, but he looked pleased. He fidgeted. Robby hesitated.

“I actually have a million more questions about your bat form.” He said. “Would you… would you mind showing me again?” He kept his voice soft, gentle, making sure Dennis knew he could say no.
Dennis stared at him. He’d braced for disgust, for fear, for awkward distance. He hadn’t braced for enthusiastic, clinical curiosity. A wobbly laugh escaped him.

“You… you want me to turn into a bat so you can inspect me?” He seemed a little surprised.

“If you’re not too tired,” Robby reassured him, “And only if it’s okay.” Dennis, warm and sated from feeding and feeling very cosy, nodded.

“Okay,” he said, a little shyly. “Sure.”

He slid off the couch onto the rug. A moment later, the familiar, cool shimmer filled the space between heartbeats. And there he was, the small, fuzzy bat, sitting on the rug wings slightly spread for balance as big beady eyes looked up at Robby.

“Remarkable,” Robby whispered. He gently scooped Dennis up and carried him to the smooth, polished surface of the dining table, setting him down with great care. He pulled up a chair and sat, curiously looking at the little bat scurrying around and sniffing the oak surface.

“May I?” he asked, fingers hoovering over Dennis. The little bat gave a small nod.

Robby reached out, his touch gentle as he ran the pad of his pointer finger over the edge of the leathery wing, stretching it gently. He looked at the veins, at the thin little bones hiding under the skin with great interest. Dennis, for his part, was too blissfully full and content to care about being poked and prodded. The attention was gentle, respectful. He chirped and squeaked occasionally, shifting slightly when Robby’s examination tickled.

Robby moved on to his ears, marveling at their independent movement.

“Echolocation, of course…” he mumbled, as the little ears flicked back and forth. He gently traced the edge of one large, velvety ear with his fingertip.

Dennis shivered, a pleasant sensation, and nuzzled briefly against the finger. He was cozy, safe, and quite happy with the attention. He let out a series of soft, chittering clicks.

Robby chuckled, scribbling down some notes of his findings. He was so engrossed he didn’t hear the shower stop, didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching.

Jack emerged from the hallway, hair damp, wearing clean sweatpants and a grey t-shirt. He stopped at the entrance to the living room, taking in the scene. Robby, hunched over the dining table, scribbling furiously on a notepad, completely absorbed. And on the table in front of him, a small, puffed-up bat, wings slightly spread as it yawned lazily.

Jack leaned against the doorframe, smirking slightly until Robby noticed him. He looked up, his brown eyes bright with excitement.

“Jack, look at this! It's simply fascinating, ” Robby started. “The wings are so delicate but so strong-” The bat on the table chirped, as if in agreement, and did a little shuffling turn, presenting its other wing in Jack's direction. Jack chuckled warmly.

“I see you’ve found a new scientific study object.” He teased.

“He’s an excellent subject,” Robby said, completely seriously. “Very cooperative.” He reached out and gently stroked the fur between Dennis’s ears with his finger. Dennis leaned into the touch, eyes slitting closed, a soft, purring vibration emanating from his tiny body.

“He’s also probably exhausted,” Jack said, pushing off the wall and walking over. He stood behind Robby, resting his hands on his shoulders. Robby leaned back into the touch with an easy familiarity. “Alright, Dr. Robinavitch. Time to release your specimen. He needs to shift back and get some actual sleep.”

“Right, of course,” Robby said, slightly reluctantly.. He looked at the bat. “Thank you, Dennis. That was… incredibly educational.” The bat chirped once more, then the shimmer took him. In an instant, Dennis was sitting cross-legged on the dining table, human again, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy toddler. He looked from Robby’s enthusiastic face to Jack’s amused one.

“I think he was measuring my ears,” Dennis mumbled drowsily, a hint of a smile on his face.

“He was,” Jack confirmed. “Come on, off the table. Guests don’t sit on the furniture.” He offered a hand. Dennis jerked up a bit, realising where he was perched, and took Jack's hand as he jumped off the table. His legs wobbled a bit but Jack steadied him.

“Tired.” Dennis mumbled. Jack patted his shoulder.

“I know, kid.Guest room’s made up,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Bathroom’s across the hall. Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Dennis nodded, yawning widely. For a second, his fangs were fully visible, white and sharp, but rather than fierce it looked clumsy, sleepy.

“Thank you. Both of you. For… for everything.” he whispered.

“Go,” Robby answered softly. “Sleep.”

Dennis shuffled down the hall, disappearing into the guest room and closing the door with a soft click.

Robby let out a long, slow breath, the events of the day finally catching up to him. He shook his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him.

“I just performed a physical exam on a vampire bat who is also our medical student, who also just drank your blood.” He summarised. Jack’s hands tightened on his shoulders, then began to knead the tense muscles there.

“You did, big day. And you loved it.” he told him smugly, pressing a kiss to Robby's temple. Robby leaned into the massage, closing his eyes.

“It’s… a lot to process,” he admitted. Jack leaned his chin on the top of Robby's head, both of them listening to Dennis shuffling around in the spare room for a moment.

“We’ll process it,” Jack decided, his voice low and close to Robby’s ear. “Together. Like we always do.”