Work Text:
Apo isn’t sure at first what she’s looking at, mostly because the signals her brain is sending her don’t make any god damn sense.
Legundo can’t be standing at the fridge holding a bottle of crimson. He can’t be halfway through drinking the blood with horrible animal sounds drudged up out of his throat. He can’t be poised like a creature of the night, something he isn’t anymore.
But that’s what Apo sees.
They don’t know what to do. It’s the middle of the night, and Apo had come here to clear their head, not make it more of a disaster zone.
The scent of blood is on the air, and part of Apo hungers for it while the rest of them curls their face up in disgust.
“Jesus Christ,” they whisper. What the hell is happening?
Legundo’s head snaps to them. His good eye is almost reflective, pupil a pinprick despite the darkness of the kitchen. Chicken blood runs down his chin. His free hand poses the fingers as if he still has claws.
Oh god. “Doc?” Apo calls.
Rigidly, Legs finishes off the rest of the crimson in one swig. Apo doesn’t even have time to consider taking the bottle from him. He coughs roughly when he swallows.
Apo has only been scared of Legundo a few times. At the ruined tower with Cleo, in the remains of a freshly burned Oakhurst, and now here.
“Snap out of it,” Apo begs uneasily. She doesn’t want to spook him by getting closer, but she has to do something!
An awful sound erupts out of Legs, something between a muffled scream and a sob. The bottle slides out of his hand and shatters on the ground.
Apo sends a prayer to nowhere in particular that Cherri won’t wake up. Or at least that she won’t get involved.
The sound of the glass breaking startles Legs. He looks down at himself in terrified confusion.
When Legs goes to take a step forward, Apo raises her hands.
“Doc, there’s glass on the floor. Just wait,” she pleads.
Horrifyingly, Doc moves anyway. He grunts because he definitely just stepped in fucking glass, oh my god.
“Legs!” Finally, Apo moves, and carefully leads Doc away from the glass. She has to shut the fridge door on the way. “Jesus!”
Legs is unusually pliant in her grasp, even if he’s tense. His injured foot drags across the floor, and Apo’s lip trembles at the smell of fresh blood.
“I’m sorry,” Legs croaks, once she’s gotten him a distance away. “I feel… strange.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Apo nearly hisses, still trying to keep her voice down. “You were drinking blood! You’re not a vampire anymore!”
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Legs moans. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t know…”
Nausea digs into Apo. “It’s- it’s fine, it’s okay, Legs,” Apo assures.
“Did- Did I scare you? Are you alright?” Legs asks, voice unnaturally fragile.
”It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s okay-“ Apo has to break off because god she sounds too much like Pyro at the crypt. “You didn’t mean to.”
“I thought-“ Legs pants. “I thought, I thought, I don’t, I’m-“ His mouth suddenly shuts, eye blown wide open.
Apo flinches back when Legundo doubles over and vomits on the kitchen floor. A mix of bile and blood spills out of Legundo’s mouth while he falls to his knees, the smell horrendous. His arms shake trying to keep himself upright, fingers getting stained in the mess. Apo crouches next to him, her hands gingerly rubbing his back, uncertain.
Well, at least he’s getting the blood out of his system. Plus, Apo thinks she’s solved the mystery of whether or not vampires can throw up, because she definitely would’ve vomited by now if she were able. Yay.
Legs throws up until he gags, dry heaving. Tears run down his face.
“Done?” Apo asks.
Breathlessly, Legs mumbles in confirmation.
Between the shattered glass and the bloody vomit, the kitchen is a mess. Apo should clean this up before Cherri comes over so no one else gets any glass in their feet, but she has to help Legs first.
God, speaking of messes. Legs is filthy. Bloody vomit on his face, his pajamas, even in the gap showing a bit of his chest.
“Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom,” Apo coaxes.
“I can- myself-“ Legs tries stutteringly.
“No way,” Apo denies. “You might go back for the fridge or something. I’m staying with you.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
Apo could say something about what Legs would do if the situation was reversed, but it’s no use. Legs would just go nooooooo Apo I’m ontologically evil or something just as dumb.
“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have to do, but I do it anyway,” Apo argues instead.
Legs continues to protest even as he lets her help him to his feet. Apo supports Legs on the way to the bathroom, but Legs doesn’t wince even as his wound stains the floor. The stench of sickness from him is terrible.
On the way, Apo nearly startles when she spots Cherri poking her head out from the bedroom door. She’s on Legs’s blind side, which is for the best. Her eye has a question in it.
Minutely, Apo shakes their head. They can guess that the last thing Legs wants right now is more of an audience.
Giving a thumbs up, Cherri retreats back into the room, quiet as a mouse.
There’s shaky breathing from Legs, but at least he’s breathing. “So hungry,” he mutters miserably.
Apo grimaces. “I know. I’ll get you something soon. We have to wait for your stomach to settle, yeah?”
“Blood?” Legs asks weakly, sounding nothing like himself.
“No. You can’t drink that,” Apo reminds, throat clenching.
Legs blinks slowly. “I… I know that, I know, but- eugh.” He gags wetly.
Finally, Apo corrals him into the bathroom. She ducks to avoid her lack of a reflection in the mirror. “Just take it easy.”
Apo leaves Doc’s side to start running the bath. God, her skin is crawling. She’s thirsty and she despises it.
When she doesn’t hear anything from Doc, she turns around. He’s like a statue in the center of the bathroom, expression set in horror, putting weight on his bad foot.
“Um… I didn’t think you’d want me to take your clothes off for you,” Apo states.
Legs starts. His face is flushed and sweaty from the whole mess. “Oh. Right.”
Turning back to the bath, Apo’s relieved that she hears clothes rustling behind her.
Soon, the bath is filled enough. By the time they’ve arranged things, Legs has stripped himself. He’s seated on a stool, vacantly examining the cut on his foot.
Apo straightens. “Let me. I have basic training.”
Legs watches the blood run down his sole, which is all the go-ahead Apo needs. They grab the relevant supplies from the medicine cabinet and crouch next to him, grimacing at the red liquid. After everything, the sight of it is still frightening to them.
Thankfully, her vampirism has high enough standards that blood from this spot isn’t very appetizing.
Removing the glass carefully, Apo throws it away. Before the wound can bleed too much more, Apo cleans and bandages it. They had been hoping Doc would walk them through it, so they didn’t do anything wrong, but he hasn’t said a word.
“There. Um… Good,” Apo says uselessly.
Legundo’s head dips to the side as if in contemplation. With him being undressed, Apo tries to give him privacy, but they can’t help but grimace at the claw marks Owen left across his skin when he was turned. Thankfully, Legundo seems too distracted to notice them staring.
Without bothering to ask, since he’d just insist he can do it himself, Apo helps him into the tub. Legs sinks into the water but doesn’t otherwise move, expression uncomfortably blank.
Pupil suddenly shrinking, Legundo brings his wrist to his face. His jaw cracks open and he breathes deeply through his nose. Apo recognizes the hunger in his eye and jolts forward, taking his wrist in her hand.
Dilation. Legs startles and looks to Apo, whose fangs scrape as her teeth chatter.
“Were you trying to bite yourself?” she asks incredulously.
“I…” Legs glances back at his wrist then returns to Apo. “Was I? I was.”
“Jesus Christ, Doc,” Apo exhales lifelessly.
“Human blood…” Legs whispers. “I… I can hear my own heartbeat. I- Christ, I still feel like I need to drink blood.”
Well, thank god Cherri isn’t here, then! Fucking hell!
“What is happening to you?” Apo laments, putting her head in her hands.
“The cure… clearly comes with its own side effects, as most treatments do,” Legs explains, sounding dissatisfied. “We knew that and yet… I wasn’t expecting this.”
The cure was supposed to fix things. It was supposed to work. But this isn’t normal. It isn’t fair!
…But Apo would still choose it, if she had any choice at all.
“Yeah, who could? You don’t need blood anymore!” Apo protests. “You can’t- ugh, this sucks.”
“It’s alright, Apo,” Legs assures. “I’m alright.”
Liar. Apo’s hands shake until she gets a nearby pitcher and dumps warm water on Doc’s head.
Suddenly soaked head to toe, Doc sputters out water from his mouth. He blinks at Apo dumbly.
Apo’s throat bobs. “Bathtime,” they explain. “You’re gross.”
Legs rolls his eye but nods. “I can’t argue with that. Where’s the soap?”
”I’m helping,” Apo insists, grabbing a washcloth and some soap. “You might try and drink your own blood again.”
With a deep sigh, Legs acquiesces.
Apo crouches next to the tub.
The water is warm, and so is Legs’s skin when Apo brushes up against it. Legs is trembling, but he’s definitely trying to hide it. Apo soaks the washcloth and spreads soap onto it. Then, gingerly, she and Legs take turns cleaning him up. They scrub the blood off his face, out of his chest hair, wherever it ended up. The bath has to be refilled a few times, and Apo hates how it gets dyed pink. Better than seeing that stupid blood fountain in the castle again, though.
While Apo washes Doc’s back, Doc traces his knuckles over the deep slashes across his chest. Apo remembers the feeling of Owen shoving her away from the path to the crypt and curses softly.
If Apo tries to say anything comforting, they’ll probably just mess it up. And Doc will get worked up again, and hurt himself, and he’ll think he’s too far gone and imply or even say that they should’ve let him die in Oakhurst, and Apo…
Apo just… can’t hear that right now. So Apo washes Doc in silence.
Once they get the bathwater to a fairly clear color, Apo leans back and rolls their shoulders.
“Listen, I… I want to give you some time on your own. But if you’re gonna be biting yourself-“
“You can go,” Doc offers. “I’ll be alright. I can feel that the worst has passed now. I’d appreciate some time alone.”
Apo swallows something that tastes like Martyn’s blood. I’ll see you in a second- “Fine. If you’re sure.”
With a final confirming nod, Legs settles in.
Running her hand around the rim of the tub, Apo just can’t get past the dread in her stomach. Her head dips forward, and she kisses Legs’s temple before she can think better of it.
“Please just stay safe,” Apo croaks.
Legs glances at her with a round, pained eye. He looks exhausted. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
Apo can’t believe him, but she has to.
Exiting the bathroom with Legs’s dirty clothes bundled in her arms, Apo finds the rest of the house to be still. It’s too unbothered, too quiet, but Apo tries to calm herself down. It’s the middle of the night, of course it’s quiet. In fact, if she actually pays attention, she can hear the wind rustling outside. Crickets.
See? There’s life. This place is alive.
The dirty clothes are set to the side, and Apo groans when she gets to the kitchen. Oh, joy.
Diligently, if reluctantly, Apo cleans up the mess. They gag at the vomit, but they get through it. Whatever, they had no attachment to that bottle anyway. In fact, Apo wishes they could smash some glassware right about now. It wouldn’t fix anything, but it’d probably do something for them.
The cleanup doesn’t even take that long. When Apo heads back to the bathroom, making noise so Legs won’t be startled by their entrance, they find a couple pairs of pajamas outside the bathroom door.
God, Cherri is quiet. But Apo’s thankful.
It’s then Apo realizes she’s a little gross from all this. Not nearly as much as Legs, but she seriously appreciates the fresh pajamas. Apo changes outside the bathroom and sets her dirty clothes to the side. She holds the pajamas intended for Legundo.
Feeling a lot better, Apo knocks and reenters the bathroom once Legs welcomes her. The pajamas go on the counter.
”Okay, you’ll shrivel up if you’re in there much longer,” Apo tries to joke. “Ready to get out?”
Legs’s returned smile is strained, but that’s not unexpected. Still, Apo’s suspicions are raised. It’s not out of the question that Legs is hiding something.
“I’ll get myself out,” Legs proposes.
Apo scoffs. “Yeah, on that foot? You’re smarter than that.”
”I’m fine,” Doc insists. “It doesn’t hurt.”
”It’s not a big deal,” Apo argues. She reaches and tugs at Legs’s wrist, at which he stiffens.
Apo follows suit, once she processes the texture of his arm. She pulls it further out and examines whatever’s making that uneven, marred-
Jesus.
Painful red outlines of human-shaped teeth litter Doc’s arm. There’s no broken skin, but it’s pretty damn nearly there.
The almost-claws on Apo’s fingers nearly dig into Doc.
“I didn’t drink any,” Legs promises shakily. “I- I became confused on why I wasn’t breaking skin with the amount of force I was using. Because… I don’t have fangs anymore. So I stopped.”
God, god, Apo holds Legs’s wrist and she can’t look away.
“It’s alright,” Legs soothes.
“It’s not!” Apo hisses. “You said you’d be fine! You said!”
“I didn’t want you to-“
“What about what I want!?” Apo snaps. “You can’t keep doing this to me! You know that when you hide yourself, you’re hurting someone I care about! But you just don’t care!”
Apo drops the wrist like it burned them and squeezes their eyes shut. They hate this. They hate him.
“Of course I care,” Legundo argues like the fucking liar he is. “You just shouldn’t worry about me.”
”I have to worry about you!” Apo bites back. “Oh my god, Legs!”
“I…” There’s a sigh. “I just don’t understand.”
”Me neither,” Apo breathes into her hands.
Right now, Apo could reach out and touch Legundo, but the real distance between them stretches from here back to Oakhurst.
But at least Legs is alive. Apo whispers that into their mind over and over until everything feels a little more solid.
”Apo,” Legs suddenly murmurs. “Would you want to help me out of the tub?”
Apo peeks at him and nods jerkily. When she assists, she holds his shoulders and skips touching his wrists. Legs dries himself off, leaning on the wall, while Apo gets the pajamas. Without a word between them, Legs changes into the clean clothes. While they’re at it, Legs cleans his mouth out and Apo helps him tend to the bite marks on his wrist.
The limp is far more visible as Apo supports Legs back to the main room. Apo can’t tell if he’s intentionally making it more obvious for her sake or if it’s just that painful. Either way, she sets him on the sofa and visits the now clean kitchen to get him some solid human food. Something good for nausea.
Settling on some crackers, Apo wishes desparately that they themself could eat the simple food.
Whatever. Back to Legs.
“Here.” Apo offers him the crackers. Their shoulders are less strained, so they continue, “When you’re feeling better, I’ll get you some watermelon. Cherri says that eating it captures the same feeling as ripping into a prey animal, so maybe it’ll trick your weird cured vampire brain.”
Legs rewards her with an amused smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Apo settles next to their housemate, their friend, on the sofa. “Maybe, like, rare meat too, if you’re open to that. We’ll find something.”
With a hum of acknowledgment, Doc starts eating his crackers. Apo catches sight of his eyebrows furrowing.
“Does it taste… ashy?” Apo guesses.
Thankfully, Doc shakes his head. “The flavor is… lessened, but it’s not bad.”
“That’s something, at least,” Apo mumbles.
Doc keeps eating, frame far more slumped than usual.
“We’ll…” Apo shuts her eyes for a second. “We’ll figure this out, okay? At least you’re human again.”
Legs stares down at Apo, his face conflicted. Hesitantly, he places an arm around her shoulder. She feels tension immediately leak out of her, and she pushes herself into his side.
Apo knows what bites of Legs’s crackers prevented him from saying. I don’t feel human.
But they’ll keep living, and maybe one day he will.
Fear sticking in her throat, Apo kisses Doc’s cheek.
Doc’s hand ghosts the spot. He laughs lightly. “What in the world have I done to warrant two kisses from you?”
Apo drops their head into his chest.
They answer, “You stayed alive.”