Archive of Our Own

Dennis didn't really like being touched yet. He'd accept a hair ruffle or a forehead kiss, but any prolonged touch made him a little antsy. Robby could understand it, so he was cautious of overwhelming him.

Dennis had also never sought out physical affection. Well, until one night.

Robby was sitting on the couch, listening to the fire he was supposed to put out soon crackle. A book sat open in his hands, but no page had been turned in a while. A yawn escaped him, probably the hundredth of the night. He should throw in the towel and join Jack in bed soon, but he was desperate to finish the last chapter.

The stairs creaked with the telltale sound of careful footsteps. Robby smiled at the sight of Dennis poking his head over the banister to peer at him from the dark stairway. His eyes, almost always a cool shade these days, caught the light of the fire, and shone a bright red. He tilted his head, and the effect went away. Now, he looked much more like a curious kitten than a stalking creature of the night.

"Hello, sweetheart," Robby offered when he lingered by the bottom of the stairs for a beat. Dennis blinked at him in leu of a greeting back.

Robby hadn't actually realized that Dennis was upstairs. More and more often, he had been slipping in when Robby and Jack weren't paying attention, and slinking upstairs for a nap. It was a welcomed presence, but Robby hoped Dennis knew that he didn't have to sneak around.

"I thought you were asleep," Dennis mumbled sheepishly.

Robby just smiled at him. "No, not yet. Going somewhere?"

He shrugged in response.

Robby decided that Dennis wasn't feeling chatty, and gave him one more warm smile before looking back down at his book.

Socked feet shuffled on the carpet, and Robby assumed it was the sound of Dennis retreating to one of the doors and slipping out like he usually did.

Instead, Robby watched over the edge of his book as Dennis's shadow got closer to him. Just as he was about to look up, Dennis knelt down by his feet, and curled up against his legs.

Robby bounced his knee once to jostle him lightly, smiling down at him. "You don't want to sit on the couch? It's more comfortable."

Dennis shook his head before laying his cheek against Robby's knee. Closing his eyes, he gave a tiny little sigh.

Robby decided to take the small victory, and didn't inquire any more into Dennis's reasoning. Testing his luck, he tangled a hand in Dennis's hair and scratched his scalp. With another little sigh, Dennis leaned further into him, melting into a little puddle against his knees.

Robby finished up his chapter, one hand flipping pages and the other toying with Dennis's blonde curls. Satisfied with the ending, Robby set the book aside and looked down at Dennis.

His eyelashes rested against the highs of his cheeks, and his head lolled just barely to the side. Robby nudged him gently, but he didn't budge an inch. He was out cold.

A big smile worked across Robby's face as he looked down at the boy pooled at his feet, comfortable enough in his presence to sleep against him. Oh, how far they had come in the recent months.

 —————————————

Dennis had taken to sitting in the kitchen with Jack in the mornings. With how rarely Dennis had to sleep, he was usually awake and sitting in the living room or his room when Jack started his day.

Jack hated putting on his prosthesis early in the morning, and Dennis, the perceptive little thing, caught on quickly. He learned to make himself useful around the kitchen so Jack could use his crutches instead.

Jack yawned as his eyes blinked open. He looked over at Robby, still sound asleep, and smiled. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and…ouch. That hurt more than usual.

One very poor attempt at using his forearm crutches later, and Jack realized this was going to be a rough morning. Still, he got his arms into the cuffs with minimal wincing as his sore hip and leg yelled at him.

Dennis sat by the kitchen window, head laying on his arms as he stared out at the slowly falling snow. Winter was soon ending, but one last cold front had worked its way into town.

He turned his head at the sound of Jack walking out. His big eyes scanned Jack over wordlessly before coming to a swift conclusion. He dragged a stool over to the stove.

"Clever boy," Jack smiled, ruffling his blond curls before he sat down.

Dennis just stood in front of him, watching him quietly with his hands twisting in front of him. He looked like a dog waiting to be given a command, wanting to be given a command. Jack knew the feeling, so he decided to let Dennis make breakfast.

Jack gave him simple instructions, things that probably didn't need to be instructed. Still, Dennis probably hadn't cooked a meal over a stove in a long time, and his eyes flicked to Jack for approval after every move.

"Have you eaten anything but…blood since you turned?" Jack asked, leaning his head on his palm.

Dennis manured the spatula expertly over the pan of eggs. He nodded. "I tried."

"Tried? You didn't like it?"

"It didn't taste like anything," he shrugged. "Well, that's not true. It tasted kinda…rotten."

Jack hummed in thought as Dennis continued cooking. Dennis never was particularly chatty, but Jack felt that he was warming up to him. He spoke when spoken to, at least. That was more than what he used to do.

Back when he first started staying in the house, he sometimes just stared at Jack when he talked. He'd blink and nod or shake his head when appropriate, but he went through a little phase where he didn't speak. Jack was glad when he came out of it.

Dennis continued without being prompted. "Then again, that was a long time ago," he hummed. "I was technically still turning. Apparently, you're supposed to not want anything but blood for the first few days."

Jack chewed the inside of his lip. "Do you think it would be different now."

Dennis shrugged. "Maybe. But, I just don't crave food the way I…y'know."

Jack nodded. Some days, he sat out on the porch while Dennis, who had been growing evermore restless throughout the week, hunted in the trees. He came back covered in blood, and Jack never asked where it came from. Mostly because he'd rather not know.

Still, he and Robby never shamed Dennis for the things he mauled in the trees. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. Jack and Robby were happy to offer their arms to him, but they weren't blood banks. They couldn't feed him as often as he needed it. So, the local squirrel population could dwindle a little, they figured.

Dennis finished cooking, and let Jack guide him through it.

He sat by Jack at the table, head leaned on his arms. Jack had kind of gotten used to how Dennis just watched him and Robby go through their daily motions. His big blue eyes were pretty enough that Jack didn't mind the small intrusions.

Jack offered him a forkful of eggs.

He hesitated, studying the offer for a second. Eventually, he opened his mouth, little fangs glinting, and closed it around the fork. Chewing experimentally for a beat, he seemed to decide that he didn't like it. Little wrinkles covered his nose as he scrunched it in disgust.

Jack chuckled and patted his back. "Good try," he offered.

—————————————

Dennis was having bad dreams. He hadn't said anything about it to Jack and Robby, but Robby could tell from how he came downstairs with red rimmed eyes and how his eye bags got darker as the days went by. Being nonhuman, Dennis didn't have to sleep every night like Robby did, but he still needed sleep from time to time.

Robby found him one afternoon, curled up in a dark corner of the living room like a cobweb. He startled himself awake and looked scared for half a second before remembering where he was. After that, he looked utterly miserable. His pretty face twisted itself in a frown and his blue eyes welled just barely.

He blinked away any emotion still living on his face and went outside to sit in the barn with the animals.

Another day, Robby was cleaning upstairs when he heard a choked little sound from the guest room. He usually never went in there now that it was Dennis's room, but sue him for being worried.

Dennis was curled up in a tight ball, hand clutching anything in reach. He whined sadly, and his face scrunched up in misery.

Robby gently shook his shoulder, to which his eyes flew open. He grabbed Robby's wrist blindly, sharp nails pressing into the sun spotted skin.

Robby let out a sigh and ran his ungrabbed hand through Dennis's curls. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You were having a nightmare, yeah?" he mumbled, leaning down to look in Dennis's wide, blue eyes. They flicked around the room wildly as he calmed himself.

Dennis nodded, letting go of Robby's wrist and letting his hand hit the bed. He stared wordlessly and blinked away the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"Why don't you come sleep downstairs with me and Jack tonight? Hm?"

Dennis seemed none too thrilled with the idea, so it was back to the drawing board for Robby. Dennis enjoyed affection, but only in short bursts for now. He didn't like the feeling of being smothered, so Robby could see why sharing the bed may overwhelm him.

Robby tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he drove into town, pondering his issue. Jack stayed home to keep an eye on Dennis, but Robby still felt sorry for the boy. He was so sweet. He didn't deserve to feel scared when he closed his eyes.

Robby walked around the little shop in town easily, getting their weekly groceries as he always did. The staff greeted him familiarly and he knew right where everything was.

Although, this time he noticed a stand he never had before. A little rack with plushie animals on it for children to ogle while their parents gently ushered them away.

A little golden puppy in particular caught Robby's eye. The plush fur on it was the same color as Dennis's hair, and it looked just the right size to sit his arms. One embarrassing interaction with a cashier later, and the little stuffie was riding home with Robby and his groceries.

He bullied Jack into helping him put the groceries away. Jack opened up the last sack and just stared for a beat. He pulled the dog out and narrowed his eyes at Robby.

"You don't think I'm a good enough guard dog?" Jack teased.

Robby rolled his eyes. "No, you're the worst. Also, it's for Dennis."

"Dennis asked for…a little dog? He knows I'm right here, right?"

"Can you stop being jealous of a toy? Also, he didn't ask for it. I just thought he'd like it."

Jack hummed in thought and handed Robby the plushie. Robby examined it a little, toying with its floppy ears.

"Do you think it'll help him sleep better?" Robby asked.

Jack made a dramatic sigh. "I can't guard him from dreams."

"Shush. you don't even sit around in your other form enough to be playing at this right now."

Jack laughed and padded back to the living room. Over his shoulder, he told Robby that Dennis was out in the barn. Robby looked down at the stuffed animals again before sighing and walking out the back door.

"Dennis?" he called as he walked into the barn.

Dennis poked his head through the railing of the hayloft. Robby's old bones creaked as he climbed up the rickety ladder.

"Hi," Robby smiled. "What're you doing up here?"

Dennis gave a noncommittal shrug.

"I brought you something."

Dennis tilted his head. He watched as Robby brought out the toy and showed it to him, eyebrows raising in confusion.

"You don't like him?" Robby smiled, amused at Dennis's confusion with the plush.

Dennis took the toy in his cold hands and fiddled with it for a second. He laid it on his knees and flopped its ears around the same way Robby had earlier.

"He's cute," Dennis relented, looking down at it with a little smile. "Why?"

"I thought he could sleep in your bed with you."

"What's his name?"

"How would I know? He's yours."

Robby gave a little wink at Dennis's small smile and climbed back down.

The next day, Robby cracked open Dennis's bedroom door to check in on him. He was curled up under the bed sheets, eyes shut gently. Robby hadn't seen him sleep soundly in a long time. He smiled at the sight of Dennis with his eyes shut gently instead of screwed tight.

He walked into to tug the covers back up over his shoulders, and in doing so noticed the little plush in his arms. Robby gently carded his hand through Dennis's curls, watching him practically melt at the feeling, and adjusted the covers before slipping out.

Small problem: Dennis did, eventually, get comfortable sharing the bed downstairs with Jack and Robby. Granted, much, much later, but still. The issue was that Dennis now wouldn't sleep without the little dog.

They were curled up in bed one night. Jack was softly reading out loud to Dennis. Robby was about to sleep, but decided to tune in instead. Eventually, Jack decided that was enough for one night, despite Dennis's complaints on the matter.

"Can I sleep in here?" Dennis hummed.

Jack pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You know you don't have to ask."

Dennis smiled and settled down before furrowing his brow.

"What?" Robby prompted, rubbing his thumb over the bunched skin between Dennis's eyebrows.

"I don't have my dog," Dennis mumbled.

Jack consoled him with a little kiss and went to go get him, muttering something about, 'I can turn into a real, literal dog, but noooo,' playfully. This was wildly inefficient, seeing as Jack was the only disabled person in the house, and had to go up the stairs to get the plush. But, Robby got the feeling that he just wanted to make his joke, so he let it slide.

"I honestly didn't think you'd like him this much when I bought him. I thought you might think it was…juvenile," Robby hummed, letting Dennis toy with his hand while they waited.

Dennis shrugged. "I had a toy just like him when I was a kid. I guess it is juvenile, but I don't have much from when I wasn't…y'know." He pointed to his fangs.

Jack returned with the puppy and settled back into bed. They fell asleep, curled up all together, with Dennis and his dog in the middle.

—————————————

You know, heating up blood on the stove was not the worst thing Jack had done for love.

He went upstairs one night to tell Dennis goodnight, maybe cuddle a little if Dennis decided he wanted to. He hopped up on the bed in his dog body, bowing his head at Dennis for pets, which he lovingly received.

But…Dennis didn't look right. Sleepy, out of it, a little sad. He whined low in his throat and nosed at Dennis for an explanation. The boy chuckled at him and scratched behind one of his ears. He nosed at him again, prodding.

"It's nothing," Dennis hummed. "Just…those blood bags? From Robby's friend at the hospital?"

Jack went through the ordeal of turning back human, thanking God that he left his crutches up here last night as he slid his arms into the bands. "What about them?" he asked, sitting on Dennis's side of the bed, right on the edge. To his surprise, Dennis leaned his head on Jack's shoulder, forehead resting by his collar.

"I dunno," Dennis sighed. "It tastes funny."

Jack chuckled and patted his leg. "You don't have to drink it, baby. It's just for emergencies."

"There's not much out lately. Something's getting at everything outside before I can," he whined, a little more petulance in his voice than Jack was used to. It was endearing, and made him kind of want to bend to any of Dennis's requests.

He tugged up his shirt sleeve and offered his arm a little too eagerly. Dennis wrinkled his nose, showing off his fangs under his pink lips.

"I can't just drink off you and Robby. I'll get hooked on it."

"Well…it's not like we're going anywhere."

"No…but, still. I don't want you guys to get anemia or something."

Jack chuckled and looked at the mostly full blood bag on the nightstand.

"What's wrong with it, anyway? Is it old? Not your preferred type?"

Dennis hummed. "It's kinda…cold. Imagine if I gave you really hot water and acted like it was normal. You'd be like, it's not supposed to be that temperature. Y'know?"

Jack nodded, and kissed his head. He grabbed the blood bag and promised he'd be back, suffering with the stairs as he made his way to the kitchen. A brief stop to get his prosthetic on, and he made his way to the cabinet where they kept their mugs. He grabbed one with something dumb written on it and poured some blood in it before sticking it in a pot on the stove, which Robby probably wouldn't be pleased to find out about. The smell of hot blood is probably not a fun one for a human man to come home to.

Still, the blood warmed up. He poured it into the mug and rinsed the evidence in the pot down the sink. His prosthesis made it easier, but not easy to get up the stairs. He could've just asked Dennis to come down, but he kind of liked doting on the pretty thing, especially now that he was starting to accept it so willingly.

"It's not like we're going anywhere," swirled in Jack's head from the moment that he said it. Because…they were. They weren't getting any younger, and Dennis was, notably, not getting any older. One day, they wouldn't be there. One day, Dennis would have to sit alone in the farmhouse and hunt for himself or heat his own supply of blood on the stove. So, Jack didn't mind the doting for the time being. He wanted to show Dennis love, unconditionally, with what little time they got.

He pushed open the bedroom door and watched Dennis sniff the air. With the mug placed between his delicate hands, he took an experimental little sip before humming, pleased.

"That was smart of you," he said, taking another greedy sip.

Jack chuckled. "Does my cleverness get a reward?"

"Come up here with me."

He patted the side of the bed that he usually left empty. He seemed to favor the side closer to the door and furthest from the windows, so Jack climbed onto the forgotten side.

Dennis leaned back, pressed against Jack's chest and tucked gently against his side. Jack figured it was a pretty good reward, seeing as Dennis let him rub his arm and press little kisses onto his cheeks as he drank what was left in the mug.

Finally full and sated, he leaned back against Jack and closed his eyes. Before he knew what was happening, the boy was gently sleeping against him.

Robby came in from the barn, and followed his intuition upstairs.

"Isn't that sweet," he whispered in the doorway, smiling at the two of them.

Jack chuckled. "He was really hungry, ate, then passed out. Come lay down, let's take a nap with him."

"Oh, you two are having a little moment. I don't wanna make him uncomfortable."

"Just get in. He cuddles with you all the time, he won't mind."

Tentatively, he stripped off his dirty barn clothes and peeled back the covers, sliding in on the other side of Dennis. Immediately, the boy shifted, tangling his legs with Robby and deeply breathing in the new scent before exhaling happily.

Jack and Robby shared a kiss over his head before falling asleep beside him.

—————————————

Dennis didn't sleep a whole lot, since his body just didn't need to as often. However, as he stayed in the house more and more, he started getting more comfortable taking little naps sporadically instead of having one big sleep whenever he was truly exhausted.

There was no problem with this, of course. He was a pretty sleeper, and Robby would never be mad about finding him cuddled up either in their room, on the couch, or in the guest room.

However, Dennis had picked up a habit of curling up in more peculiar places. The closet, bathtub, under the table. You name it, Dennis was snuggled up there. Tight, dark corners, devoid of all sunlight. Really, he had accidentally startled Jack and Robby a million times.

One afternoon, Robby accidentally kicked Dennis as he was napping by the side of the couch, head slumped on the armrest as he cuddled up on the floor.

"Ow," Dennis mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Robby chuckled. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't see you down there."

A tiny whine escaped him as he squinted against the sunlight, slowly making its way into the house as the sun set. Robby clicked his tongue as how Dennis hid away from the sun.

"Come here, into the shade," Robby hummed, patting the other side of the couch. Reluctantly, Dennis shuffled over, laying his head on Robby's knees instead. "I thought the sun didn't burn you?" Robby asked quietly, voice pitching as he played with the young things hair.

"Makes me feel tingly," Dennis mumbled sleepily. "Hard to sleep."

It occurred to Robby then that…yeah. Dennis's biology was supposed to be telling him to hide from the sunlight. Sure, he could bare to be in it, but it was probably a little uncomfortable on his skin while he was trying to nap. Additionally, his eyes took a long while to adjust to light, let alone sunlight.

So, Dennis napping in random crevices of the house wasn't just a little quirk. It was a comfort.

When he was next in town, Robby stopped by a furniture store he was surprised was still running, and purchased the thickest curtains they had. Secretly, he installed them in Dennis's room.

The next day, he was the most well rested Robby had ever seen him.

—————————————

After Dennis asked him to, Jack spent a lot more time in his second form. He padded around the house, usually sitting by either Robby or Dennis and wagging his tail.

Dennis was still warming up to the idea of physical affection, but Jack had a suspicion that the younger man liked the feel of soft things against his skin. He also had a weird jealousy over Dennis's little plushie puppy from Robby, which started as a joke but was slowly becoming a little to real. He liked being the dog of the house, okay?

Dennis sat at the top of the stairs, elbows balancing on his knees as his palms held his face. The light didn't reach the top of the stairs, which was probably why he liked it. Currently, he was studying a painting hanging on the wall.

A little smile broke across his vaguely glum face as Jack climbed up the stairs. He struggled a little, on account of being an old dog and missing a pretty vital limb for stair climbing. Still, he made his way up and padded around in a little circle before laying down by Dennis.

Dennis seemed vaguely amused, and smiled at him before putting a tentative hand on his back. He pet him carefully, as if he was remembering how to do it. His thin, cold hand felt nice, considering how hot the house could get when you had a thick coat.

Carefully, Dennis scratched behind his ears. Jack let his tail wag, and watched how the smile on Dennis's face warmed a little.

"I had a farm dog who liked that too," Dennis hummed. "She was a Pyrenees."

Jack gave a little whine in acknowledgement. Very easily, he could swap back to his other form and have a proper conversation, but he didn't want Dennis to stop petting him. So, instead, he stayed there.

Dennis sighed. Jack nudged him with his nose.

He gave a little chuckle. "Your nose is wet. Gross."

Jack did it again, just to hear him laugh.

The boy laid down against the carpet. Jack moved and laid his head on his outstretched arm, the closest Dennis had let him get lately. They laid in silence, but Jack watched how Dennis's gray eyes flicked around the ceiling. As if he was seeing a map etched in the ceiling.

"Can I tell you something?" Dennis whispered, his little voice broken. Jack perked up his ears in response. "I know you think I shouldn't, but sometimes I miss being a human." Jack opened his jaw to bark out an answer, but Dennis tapped his nose. "I know, I know. I'm not a monster. Neither are you. Still, you and Robby will die one day. Then what do I do?"

Jack made a sad little sound. He considered turning back, but Dennis started scratching behind his ears again. Damn, he was easy.

Dennis wiped his eyes, which Jack hadn't even noticed were watering.

"I guess it's kinda…beautiful, though," he muttered. "That I get to love something that won't always be here."

He patted Jack and stood up.

"Thanks, Jack," he hummed before padding downstairs.

Jack really hadn't done anything but get patted and loved on, but he took the thanks anyhow. It was only after Dennis had walked away that he came out of his pet-drunk haze and realized what he had said.

Love.

Dennis said he loved them.

—————————————

Robby knew the day would come eventually, and he was waiting for it. He couldn't help but be a little…jealous when he saw the two little puncture wounds on Jack's arm. He didn't get jealous easy, but those little bites had him looking longingly at Dennis's fangs every once in a while. Whatever, he never read Twilight, he could live his fantasies now if he wanted.

He wasn't expecting Dennis to be so…shy.

Robby was sitting out in the barn, watching the animals mill about their pens. He really didn't have to be there, watching, but he liked seeing the little lambs and calves get older and stronger and develop their own little personalities.

Apparently, someone else liked it too. He heard a rattling of the ladder as Dennis climbed down and paused on the last rung, looking at him awkwardly.

"Hi," Robby smiled.

Dennis looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Hi," he echoed.

"Going somewhere?"

He slowly tucked his fangs back into his gums and nodded, stunted and choppy. Twisting his hands awkwardly, he looked between the barn door and Robby.

"You can hunt, sweetness. Me and Jack don't mind. Just stay out of town, okay?"

Dennis shuffled his feet. His big eyes were red today, irises as bright as freshly spilled blood. They gave Robby a big, pleading look, like those of a puppy begging for scraps at the table.

Robby chuckled. "What is it, huh?" he asked gently, motioning for Dennis to come closer. "You want a chicken from the coop? Don't wanna hunt tonight?"

He sat down beside Robby on a box, and leaned into his side. Robby didn't mind the love, but he was a little confused with the sudden affection. He played with the curls at the back of Dennis's neck. "Come on," he coaxed, "tell me what's going on in your pretty head."

Dennis shuffled against him before looking up through his eyelashes sheepishly.

"Can I...y'know."

Robby shook his head. "I don't know, sugar. You gotta tell me."

The apples of his cheeks flushed. He made an awkward gesture with his hands, pointing to his fangs then to Robby's arm.

"Oh," Robby said. "Oh," a little more urgently.

Dennis shook his head. "It's okay, I'll just, uh, I'll go-"

"No, no. Sorry, I just…thought you'd never ask."

Dennis smiled a little, gentle and sweet. Patiently, he watched Robby shuck his flannel off and offer his arm, now clad in only a short sleeve tee shirt. "Uhm," Dennis mumbled, getting his fangs out. "You have to be really still, so I don't turn you. Okay?"

Robby nodded eagerly. Dennis looked down at his arm then back at him, swallowing thickly.

"We don't have to. I just thought…" he trailed off nervously, eyes still trained on Robby's pulse point.

"Den, go ahead. I want you to, especially if it's what you want right now. I'll be still."

"Okay," he muttered. "It might hurt a little."

Robby did his best to hold perfectly still as Dennis slowly pierced the skin. He felt like he was getting his tattoos all over again, except the piercing needle was as big as the end of a screwdriver. A hand was tangled into Dennis's hair as he desperately tried to distract himself.

He could feel his heartbeat in his head as Dennis finally settled. As soon as his fangs were fully in, he was gently tugging them back out and giving the two little holes little kitten licks.

"That's all you need?" Robby asked, a little out of breath from doing nothing.

Dennis nodded. "It doesn't take much from humans."

He continued apologetically kissing the bite, looking up at Robby for approval every second.

Yes, Robby did immediately brag to Jack. And, yes, he spent a long while studying his new scars over the week.

—————————————

Jack sat on the upstairs guest room's bed, watching Dennis through the open bathroom door. The boy was getting happier and happier on the farm, but he didn't really appreciate being alone in the house. He particularly disliked showers, for whatever reason, so Jack or Robby usually stood around in his bathroom or bedroom to "keep guard."

Dennis stood at the sink, hair damp and a borrowed shirt and gym shorts on. He brushed his teeth meticulously, watching himself in the special, silver-free mirror Jack and Robby had found for him.

He ducked to spit out his toothpaste and rinse his mouth, and Jack heard a tiny clink. He looked up to watch in horror as Dennis spit out some blood.

He stood up immediately. "Baby?" he asked, voice edged with concern. Dennis looked up at him, wiping his mouth on a hand towel casually.

"Did you just…is that blood?"

"…yeah?"

"Well, is it yours?"

"Whose else would it be?"

Jack just blinked at him in disbelief. Taking Dennis's face in his hands, he gently urged his mouth open with his thumbs and peered in concernedly. Dennis tried to talk around his thumbs before he let go, but Jack was too busy squinting up at his usually very prominent fangs, which were now missing.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asked, listening to how his own voice sweetened.

Dennis knit his eyebrows and gently bat his hands away. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your fangs are sitting in the bottom of the sink. Didn't that hurt?"

A look of realization, amused realization at that, crossed Dennis's face.

"They…shed. Naturally. I don't really feel it," he smiled, showing Jack the two empty spots on his top row of teeth. Perfectly white numbs, sharp as tacks, poked out from his gums already.

"Oh," Jack said. "I…didn't know you could do that."

"Yeah. It happens once a week. You never noticed?"

"I guess not. You're sure it doesn't hurt?"

"I think I'd know if it did."

Jack looked down at the slightly bloody fangs in the sink. "Can I have them?" he asked, before really thinking about it.

Dennis smiled like that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, but rinsed them off and put them in Jack's palm. He turned them a little, studying the tiny, curved daggers.

"You can have next week's, too," Dennis chuckled.

—————————————

The house was old, and Robby's aunt hadn't been big on technology, so things were a little outdated. He only got a DVD player for the place a few years ago, when he and Jack wanted to have movie nights and couldn't figure out the half-broken VHS player.

Mostly, they owned a collection of old westerns and documentaries. There were a few classics and random things Robby picked up from town sprinkled in, but it was mostly, as Jack put it, "old man shit."

Robby's guilty pleasure was turning on various westerns and watching them on the couch while Jack read or did whatever.

Dennis lay on the couch with him late one night, after Jack had gone to bed. He laid on Robby's thigh, but had started on the other side of the couch. When he got sleepy, Dennis got cuddly. It was sweet, obviously, but always a little unexpected.

"Is that Clint Eastwood?" Dennis asked, blinking at the TV.

Robby chuckled. "Yeah. He looks way different now, doesn't he?"

Dennis nodded. "My brother used to love his movies," he hummed.

Robby toyed with his hair gently. He looked down at him.

"Really? I kinda thought only old people liked Clint Eastwood."

"He was my oldest brother. He was eighteen when I was born, so…he was kinda old."

"I guess I don't know much about your family."

Dennis shrugged. "I don't really talk about them much."

"Would you like to?"

Dennis didn't answer for a beat. He watched Clint Eastwood give some dumb one liner and start doing cool cowboy stuff before he spoke up.

"My dad was a preacher. My mom was an English teacher. They got married when he was nineteen and she was seventeen. The farm was always my dad's dream, but I think he only got it to make his dad happy. He'd lived on a farm his whole life, and I think a part of him hated it. My mom sure did. Not sure why she stayed."

Silently, Robby rubbed his back and arm, coaxing him on.

"My oldest brother was a mechanic. He went to navy training, but flunked out. Since he was so much older than me, we weren't close as kids. When I got older, I kinda felt like he was the only one who understood me. My second oldest brother got busted for drug dealing before he even finished high school. The day…it happened was his first week out of jail. My other brother was who I was closest with. He was only two years older than me. He'd be a cop, if he was still alive."

Robby let him talk without interrupting. Apparently, Clint Eastwood movies were nice to talk over.

"How about you? What were you like as a kid?" He asked when Dennis stayed silent for a while.

He blinked up at him and shrugged. "Like I am now, I guess. I finished high school with honors, but couldn't afford college and my parents couldn't afford a ranch hand if I left. I worked at the old diner. Think it's a bar now."

While Dennis was still chatty, Robby snuck in a few more questions.

"Did you have a lot of friends in high school?"

Dennis chuckled. "I guess so. It was such a small school, everybody knew each other. I had a few friends I used to make dumb movies with."

"Really? What about?"

"Just silly stuff. We stopped when all the woods started getting blocked off for monster investigations, since we usually filmed there on my camcorder."

Robby rubbed his knuckles down Dennis's arm as they settled back into silence. He would do anything to get that film somewhere, to see Dennis young and happy. He was amazing now, obviously, but it was easy to imagine a time when his eyes were a little less sad.

"Did you used to live here?" Dennis asked.

Robby smiled down at him. "No, I lived with my grandma in Pittsburgh. I stayed the summers here, though. She thought it was good for me to get out of the city."

"We could've met each other," Dennis hummed. "As kids."

Robby blinked. "Yeah. I guess we could have."

He held Dennis close as they finished the movie, mind reeling with the thought. He used to eat at the diner with his aunt every Saturday. Wasn't there a blond boy who who worked the counter one summer when he visited as a teenager?

—————————————

There was a rather acclaimed "monster" anatomy book floating around certain corners of book stores and libraries. It was written by either a creature hunter or someone much like Robby, Jack figured. Anyhow, after the, "oh yeah, Jack, I shed my teeth every week and you never noticed, I guess," conversation, he decided he should probably get his hands on it and do some light reading.

He sat on the recliner by the fireplace and cracked it open, reading through the "Werewolves, Weredogs, and Other Dog-Men" chapter. He decided whoever this was did their research, and moved to the "Blood Suckers" chapter. Kind of a mean name, but probably not worse than "Two Legged Mutts," which Jack was still a little offended by. He didn't even have two legs.

Dennis snuck down the stairs while he was engrossed in paragraph after paragraph detailing the "turning and curse infliction" side of things. The little 'blood sucker' curled up on the arm of the chair, half sinking onto Jack's shoulder.

"What is that?" he asked, peering at it from Jack's side.

He ruffled his hair. "Nothing, just a little biology book. I thought it might be interesting to learn more about us."

Dennis wrinkled his nose. "You're just embarrassed that you didn't know about the fang thing."

"I am. Deeply."

Dennis chuckled and settled in beside him, occasionally peeking when the page flipped to see the pictures and read a few too-scientific words before closing his pretty eyes again.

"There are many different races of Blood Sucking creatures. Vampires (Vampyres) being the most commonly recognized. However, in certain corners of the world, new races are born. Wether it's through diseases, curses, or improperly handled religious ceremonies, regular people suddenly become animated corpses with the insatiable lust for blood. It is commonly believed that these creatures require blood consumption to keep their decaying hearts pumping."

Jack, curiously, leaned over to Dennis's chest. The boy shuffled a little to accommodate him, but kept his eyes closed. He didn't breathe, of course, but Jack could just barely hear a weak thumping that didn't quite reach his pulse points. No, it stubbornly stayed in his chest alone.

A few paragraphs later, and he landed on "turning."

"Once a host, or a sire, is chosen by the curse or disease, they have the option to spread the infliction, or let it kill them. The childe, or the human that the infliction is passed to, may continue the line or stop it. However, they are bound by blood to their sire, and often operate under their commands.

In order to feed without spreading the curse, a Blood Sucker may lick at the site of fang contact. Often seen as an apologetic or kind gesture, the creature often only does so to keep blood sources alive or to establish a bond with a human. Their saliva contains an antidote to the disease their fangs carry, which disables the spread of the infliction. However, the saliva used must be that of the almost-sire, not just any blood sucking creature. This also does not apply to certain curse-born inflictions, which must be removed by a priest or other religious figure.

Often, instead of turning a human into a fledgling that the sire must then care for and protect, the Biter will attempt to kill the human they are feeding from before they start to turn."

Jack looked down at the two little marks on his forearm. Dennis would, periodically and randomly, come run his pink tongue over the spots with no explanation given.

Jack couldn't help but smile at the idea of Dennis doing his best, even weeks later, to ensure that he wouldn't somehow turn Jack. Though the two punctures were no more than little, barely there scars, Dennis still performed his little ritual randomly throughout the weeks.

He had always assumed it was an odd quirk of the boy, which it very well could be, but he liked to entertain the thought that it was just a sweet gesture.

"Most Blood Sucking creatures are solitary, but they often enjoy the company of other species, such as animals and humans. Some keep their food alive for days, or even years, just to bond with it. There are many cases of Biters integrating into normal society and finding places in communities. Some even dislike the idea of killing or turning humans, and instead take up symbiotic roles with them. This is often seen in younger fledglings or those who were turned in early adulthood or childhood. Often, these are the ones that struggle to find other community among those of their species. For whatever reason, they feel like outliers, and seek to live normal lives."

Jack slid the book back onto the side table and grabbed a blanket off the unoccupied arm of the chair. He gently pulled Dennis off the arm of the chair and into his lap before putting the blanket around them. He kissed the boy's hair and cuddled up with him.

—————————————

Dennis came and went.

Robby and Jack didn't mind, but there were some awfully cold nights this time of year. The boy didn't feel cold like they did, but Robby could always tell when he had just come in from the crisp wind.

Something in particular that worried Robby were his rosy little cheeks and cracked skin.

Of the few times that Dennis allowed Robby to touch him, Robby had dragged his knuckles over his cheeks. They were usually so soft, almost like a flower petal. Lately, his skin was rough and dry.

Dennis sat on the en suite bathroom while Robby brushed his teeth. He kicked his feet listlessly and leaned forward on his palms. Bright eyes watched Robby's every move, as they did most nights. The blonde had taken to watching Robby's nightly routine before he went off to do whatever it was that he did in the dark.

Robby was just glad that he was spending time with him.

Pale, cracked hands rested against the counter. With their reddened knuckles and rough feel, they looked utterly pitiful.

Robby sighed. "Can I see your hand, sweet thing?"

Dennis flushed a little at the nickname, which slipped so easily from Robby's lips at the sight of him, and picked up his hand to show him. Robby took it in his own and tsked semi-playfully.

"I gotta get you some gloves or something. Look at your poor knuckles."

Dennis hummed softly. "It doesn't matter. I can't feel it."

"Oh, but I can," Robby chided.

He kissed his irritated knuckles and dug around in a drawer for the never ending jar of lotion that he didn't even remember buying.

Dennis wrinkled his nose. "I don't like lotion. It feels weird."

"This one's super light. You won't even feel it, promise."

Dennis relented. Little hand relaxing in Robby's, he allowed a liberal amount to be slathered between the both of his hands. Robby rubbed it in carefully with his thumbs, feeling how the dry skin greedily took in the moisture.

Dennis made a little face. "It's…not bad."

Robby chuckled. "Not bad enough for you to let me put some on your face too?"

He huffed a little, but nodded, holding his head up to face Robby.

Big eyes watched Robby's face as he gently rubbed lotion into Dennis's cheeks. Robby was surprised he was sitting still for this long, in all honesty. Usually, he was squirming by now.

Robby let his hands pause for a beat when he was done, cupping Dennis's face gently. As he started to pull away, Dennis grabbed his wrists with freshly moisturized hands and tugged them back into place. To Robby's complete surprise (and delight) he leaned his head into the older man's palms and closed his eyes.

Robby indulged him by rubbing back and forth with his thumbs, smiling at him. He kissed between his eyebrows once Dennis opened his eyes and let go.

It became part of their nightly routine just as much as Dennis watching from the counter had. And, god, was it a part that Robby cherished.

—————————————

Jack wouldn't say that he was overly protective, just that he lived in the asscrack of nowhere for a reason. He liked having his own property and his own control over what happened on it. So, when a truck he didn't recognize pulled up on his lawn, he got a little annoyed, yes, but nothing crazy.

Dennis was asleep upstairs, seeing as it was about midday, so Jack opened and closed the front door quietly and walked outside to greet whoever it was. Robby had taken the truck to town, otherwise he would've gotten him. They could very well just be lost, he figured. It had happened before. The farm was the only sign of civilization for a few miles, so a few desperate people unfamiliar with the area had pulled into their long driveway and asked for the way back to town before.

Two men about Jack's height covered head to toe in silver crosses hopped out of the truck, which had a bed full of sharpened wooden stakes. Well. Maybe not innocent tourists.

"Sir, do you live here?" One of the men asked, squinting at him.

Jack nodded, switching his weight between his leg and prosthesis. "I do, and it's private property."

The other man put his hands up, holding a silver knife in one. "We don't mean no trouble. We've gotten word that there's a vampire around these parts. Would you know anything about that?"

"Sure, there's plenty of them in those woods."

"We could take care of them, if you wanted."

Jack stalked closer a little. In his growing age, he knew he wasn't particularly scary, but he could be when he wanted to. He felt much like a guard dog sometimes, keeping whatever wanted to disrupt their lives out.

"I think you boys should get going," Jack hummed.

"Sir, we're trying to do you a favor. Those things are-"

"Those things haven't done me no harm in the twenty years I've lived here. Then you boys roll up here with all your holy water and bullshit, and you get 'em riled up. See the problem."

The men exchanged a glance, as if Jack couldn't see them. As they did so, he glanced to the porch to make sure the shotgun was still leaned on the wall.

"Sir, harboring monsters is considered a crime in this county-"

"Who do you boys think you are?" Jack chuckled. "Cops? Soldiers? Well, You're just dumb is all. You go into those woods, and you might not come out. Then, oh they'll be hungry, and they'll come up here and eat my livestock. So, run along now. Before I show you what a real soldier looks like."

Honestly, not Jack's best work, but they saw him glance at the shotgun a few more times before hopping back in their trucks and driving back up the winding driveway.

Jack padded back inside, and saw Dennis standing at the base of the stairs, looking out the window.

"Who was that?" he asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Jack smiled at him. "Nobody, sweetheart. C'mon let's get you back to bed, yeah?"

—————————————

Dennis hadn't moved from his dark hole of a bedroom in four full days. Robby occasionally heard the faint bang of the back door deep in the night, but often immediately after heard the sound of it opening right back up and Dennis's gentle movements back up to his room.

Dennis, who had become so sweet and so very trusting these past few weeks, was all of a sudden a recluse again. Robby checked every day, and all the spare blood bags were always there. No dead animals in the yard, either. He just wasn't eating, wasn't moving, and wasn't talking.

Robby and Jack stood in the upstairs hallway, staring at his closed door. "Do you think he's alright?" Robby whispered, arms crossed over his chest. He could just see it, the way Dennis was probably curled up in bed right now.

"I just don't know," Jack sighed. "You don't think we upset him somehow?"

Robby shook his head. "He'd tell us if we did, I'm sure."

"Maybe he's just…sad."

"His lack of an appetite is really concerning me."

Staring at the door a while longer, Robby decided to turn the handle gently and peer in. Their boy didn't stir at the movement, tucked under blankets with the only light in the room peeking out from the very bottoms of the black out curtains.

He turned to talk to Jack, but the other man had decided to switch forms. Tail still, as opposed to how it was typically faintly wagging, he stepped in and hopped up on the bed beside Dennis.

"Jack, don't lick him. That's gross," Robby sighed, walking in to gently wipe the sleeping boy's face. He frowned at the warmth he felt on the skin, and moved his hand to his forehead.

"Does that feel like a fever to you?" he asked the dog…which admittedly always felt a little silly to do. But, Jack pressed his nose to Dennis's head and whined softly, agreeing.

Dennis yawned at the fuss they were making. His pretty eyes blinked open before he reached a hand to play in Jack's fur, closing his eye's again.

"Denny, sweetheart, are you awake?" Robby asked gently, tucking his hair behind his ear.

Dennis shuffled a little. "…mhm."

"We're worried about you. How about you sit up for me, huh?"

Reluctantly, Dennis sat up against his pillow. He rubbed his eyes with the hand not preoccupied scratching Jack's fur. The shepherd laid his head on Dennis's leg, whining at him and rolling over. Jack, in his old, gruff age, rarely ever did such submissive acts. He was more human than dog, really. But, it was clear Dennis always found his doggy antics vaguely amusing, and Jack would do anything to please him.

Or, at the very least, earn a smile from him. Maybe even a scratch behind the ears, if he was being greedy.

Dennis stared at Robby through glossy eyes. "What?" he mumbled sleepily.

"I think you've got a fever, sweets," Robby frowned, putting his hands on his ears.

"…'M fine. Sleepy."

Jack barked. Dennis shushed him gently and rubbed one of his ears.

Dennis looked down when his hand was suddenly in gray curls and not brown fur. Jack sat up in his human body, hand on the sleepy thing's knee.

"I've been reading about sicknesses you can get in that book," Jack hummed. "Are you sick, sugar?"

Dennis gave a quick shake of his head. "I don't think so. I feel fine."

Robby rubbed his head. "No, baby. I think you've got a little cold. I'll bring you some blood and a cool towel, then you can go back to sleep."

Dennis nodded and laid back down, leaving Jack and Robby to go back downstairs together. Jack held Robby's arm for support, wobbling a little on his one leg despite his crutches.

"This sucks," Jack said.

Robby sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I really need to make the house more accessible for y-"

"No, not that. But, that's sweet of you. I meant Dennis."

"I think those books have you paranoid," he laughed.

Jack shook his head. While Robby heated up blood and got a cool compress ready, Jack hunted down his prosthetic and flipped around in the book. Triumphantly, he brought it to Robby, with a page open titled, "Sicknesses Often Contracted by Blood Suckers."

"Blood Suckers, huh?" Robby hummed, eyes flitting over the page.

"I know, it's a little…outdated. But, still, there's a lot of helpful stuff in here."

"Hm. Blood Lust…Fang Infection…Vampire Flu…wait, what's that one?"

Jack looked down at the subheading while Robby reluctantly stirred blood in a pot. Jack had found that Dennis accepted older blood, so long as it was warm. Robby would do a lot for Dennis, but heating blood in a pot was near the bottom of the list. The smell was awful.

"Vampire Flu is a short-term sickness about as severe as a human cold or weak flu. It often only effects younger, recently turned fledglings, whose bodies are trying to fight off the infliction as it takes over their senses. However, Vamp Flu can be contracted by Biters in close contact with humans, who set off their biological needs to start sending signals again. Vamp Flu is described as, "the body trying to come alive again," by vampire researchers.

Often, those with the sickness experience loss of appetite, light sensitivity, insomnia or hypersomnia, aggression, and severe mood swings. Blood Suckers, though they do not always appear so, are playful creatures. Being sick greatly impacts their emotions and enjoyment of activities.

There are no known cures for the sickness. Human medicine does very little to effect it, though painkillers may ease light-sensitivity induced headaches and small fevers. The best thing a creature experiencing Vampire Flu can do is sleep and consume more blood than they usually would. Lack of blood consumption can worsen the illness into intense Blood Lust and aggression as they come out of the sickness."

Robby frowned deeply. He sometimes missed being a doctor, but right now was not one of those times. Not being able to help someone in distress with some miracle pill was the worst part of his job. So badly, he wished that he could give Dennis an Advil and see the boy come to himself again.

Instead, he just brought him a mug of blood and cold compress. He tucked two Tylenol pills into his pocket, just in case Dennis said he had a headache. Although, with the new blackout curtains installed, it was a little unlikely.

Dennis looked at him through half lidded eyes. He sniffed the air.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled at the metallic smell.

Robby sat on the edge of the bed. "Jack's little book said that you need to eat to help shake this."

He gently held the cool towel onto Dennis's forehead. With his other hand, he brought the mug to the boy's lips. Very stubbornly, Dennis shook his head and pushed the mug away.

"C'mon, baby," Robby coaxed. "Just one sip."

Dennis huffed and relented, taking a tiny sip. When he leaned away from the mug, he brought his hands up to wipe his eyes. All of a sudden he was crying. Dennis, who so rarely showed much in the way of negative emotions, was desperately wiping big tears off his cheeks.

Robby mumbled a few soothing words and help him close to his chest, hoping that Dennis couldn't hear how his heart was thumping. He wasn't usually an emotional boy, and Robby wasn't entirely sure how to handle it. He rubbed his back and played with the curls at his neck and kissed his head and whispered all the things he thought would make Dennis feel better.

Eventually, the boy's shoulders quit shaking and he finished the mug's contents, allowing Robby to slip the Tylenol into his mouth to hopefully help him. Immediately, he laid back down and promptly fell back asleep.

Robby left him to peacefully sleep, but checked in on him with Jack what felt like every half hour. His fever had gone down a bit, but he stayed asleep for the most part.

Once night time rolled around, Robby couldn't find it in himself to get comfortable in bed. He was so deeply worried about Dennis, imagining his tear streaked face and sobs over and over again.

He sat up as the door creaked open. Dennis stood there in just a shirt and borrowed boxers, looking half-guilty. He coughed pitifully into his elbow and gave Robby his best puppy dog eyes. "Can I be with you for a while?" he asked, voice tiny.

Robby smiled at him, trying to look reassuring. "Of course, sweetheart. Come, right here," he said, scooting closer to Jack and leaving his side of the bed for Dennis to come curl up in.

He did just that, sliding under the covers and uncharacteristically burying his face in Robby's chest. He sniffled and coughed a few times, but fell asleep. Robby methodically switched between rubbing his back and head, watching him sleep.

Jack rolled over and leaned on his shoulder after a few tiny coughs from Dennis.

"Is Den in here?' Jack whispered to Robby.

Robby kissed Jack's scruffy cheek. "Yeah, he's right here. He came to lay down."

"You're hogging him," he joked.

"Oh, you get plenty of cuddles from him. Besides, he's already asleep."

Jack chuckled and curled up against Robby's back, spooning him and reaching a hand around to rub Dennis's arm soothingly.

Under a few days of careful monitoring and regular semi-force feedings, Dennis was feeling better and back to his regularly scheduled program. He still had a bit of a sore throat and occasional headaches, but he seemed happy to be doted on by two ex doctors.

—————————————

It was late in the evening, the sun slowly setting over the trees. Jack sat on the porch, staring out at nothing in particular. He heard the door creak, and turned, expecting to find Robby telling him to come in. Instead, it was Dennis, wearing a pair of jeans and his sweater.

He gave Jack an awkward look and started to slink off the porch. Most nights, Jack would just let him go. But, this was the third time that week.

"Got somewhere to be?" Jack hummed.

Dennis turned, slow and shy. No response.

"You know we don't mind you doing what you want, but it's late. I worry about you."

"Just…going for a walk."

Jack jingled the truck's keys, still sitting in his pocket. Dennis looked between them and his face for a beat, considering the offer. Finally, he walked over to the truck and tugged on the passenger door handle.

Jack smiled and unlocked it for him, hopping into the driver's side and backing out of the gravel driveway.

The radio played softly. Dennis leaned his head on the window, curled up in a little ball on the bench seat. Jack wondered when the last time he rode in a car was as the few, dotted streetlights cast their yellow glow on the boy. Jack felt Dennis's hand snake over to hold his and smiled, intertwining his rough, calloused hands with Dennis's blood stained knuckles.

"Turn left." Dennis hummed.

Jack raised an eyebrow, using his free hand to whip the truck down a dirt road he didn't recognize.

"So, you did have somewhere to be?" Jack smiled.

Dennis shrugged. "Just visiting."

Jack didn't ask what that meant, and instead followed Dennis's few directions until they were well and truly in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.

A wire fence ran along the side of the road, connecting to a big, black gate coming into view. Strewn along the fence were dead flowers in bouquets and wreaths and wooden crosses. Totally not creepy.

"Stop." Dennis hummed once they got right beside the gate. Before Jack could say anything, Dennis was hopping out of the car. Jack sighed and followed, not wanting to leave the boy alone for long in the dark.

Up at the top of the gate was a metal sign that read, "Whitaker."

His family farm. Forgotten by time, left to rot with the flowers on the gate.

Dennis stung his hands on the silver wire holding the gate together. Jack knew so by the little hiss of pain the boy released before prying the gate open like he'd done it a thousand times. Pushing it open, he walked along the dirt path, winding down to a house and scattered barns.

Jack stuck close behind him, eyes scanning the treeline.

"You don't have to be so nervous," Dennis said. "There's a million wardings out here. I'm the only thing like me that can get though them."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Wardings?"

"Yeah. Prayers, spells, whatever you want to call them. They're etched into the dirt and the walls of the house."

After a short, eerily quiet walk, they got up to the house. It was covered in crosses and even more dead flowers. Something that looked a whole lot like blood stained the porch. Graffiti on the wall read in big white letters, "God rest their souls and save their son."

Dennis pushed a window panel in and slipped inside, looking at Jack expectantly. "I'm not as tiny as you, sugar," Jack chuckled. Dennis scrunched his face and looked around for a solution he never found. Instead, Jack morphed, dropping his prosthesis inside first, and hopped though the window like a show dog.

Dennis absently scratched his head and walked through the dark house.

God, it stunk. The thick smell of blood coated everything Jack could get his muzzle into. Something nobody tells you when you become half-dog (they don't tell you anything, actually) is that you can smell misery. You always know where tragedy strikes because the whole area reeks of it.

A door creaked open distantly, and Jack hurried to follow the sound. Dennis slipped into a room with his name painted on the door in the same blue shade as his sweater. Above his name on the door was another, Colton.

Dennis had loosely mentioned having older brothers, Jack remembered. Some vague mental figuring led him to thinking Colton, whoever that was, was probably one of them. Dennis turned the door handle and padded in. It was the only room in the house that didn't reek of blood, but something uniquely forlorn remained in the air.

The room was simple, with very little decorations. The side which Jack assumed was Dennis's was less blank than the other. Colton's side looked like it had been gutted, leaving nothing but the bed and some stickers and posters on the wall.

Dennis's side was decorated for a young man, Jack thought. A few lamps and books around, though Jack figured electricity had been long shut down out here. A few movie posters decorated the walls. Names of past friends were carved into the bedposts, and clothes spilled from the laundry basket full of things that would never be seen again.

Another hissing sound from Dennis had Jack's head swiveling around. The offending object was in Dennis's quietly sizzling hand, a thick leather bible with a silver cross sewn to the front. Dennis dropped it on the bed and pushed through the drawer.

A deck of cards, a box of cigarettes hidden by a handkerchief, and random knickknacks were all pushed aside by Dennis's searching hand. Finally, he pulled out a picture. Four boys sitting on a pew in church, the oldest looking no more than eighteen. The youngest was, of course, Dennis. He looked maybe two years old in the picture.

A thick cross hung heavy over their heads. Dennis's eyes caught the light as the photo was taken, making them shine white and red.

Dennis slipped it into his pocket and looked quietly at the empty mattress across the room. "Let's go," he mumbled, leading Jack out. He helped him into his prosthetic as a human and back up the driveway, where he wrestled the silver wire and closed the gate again.

On the drive back, he laid his head against Jack's shoulder and quietly thumbed the edges of the picture.

The next week, Jack saw it taped up on the wall in the guest room. He took some vague measurements and managed to scrounge up a picture frame for him. After which, Dennis kept the picture happily on his nightstand.

—————————————

One of Robby's least favorite parts of spring was busting out the tractor and plowing the wide fields for another year of corn harvests. All the wheat and corn died in the harsh winters, so Robby left the dead stalks to give all their nutrients to the ground before plowing them up when the snow melted.

He hated that old tractor. The damn thing rarely ever worked, and when it did it didn't do it right. He would just buy another one, but he and Jack were being a little stingy, considering they had a new mouth to feed. Specifically, a mouth that needed…an odd diet.

Robby sighed and climbed off the tractor halfway through the field and went inside for a drink. As cold as the winters were, spring came fast, and the sun was merciless.

When he went back out, ready to face the lean green rust machine again, he found Dennis standing out beside it and looking up at it under the brim of one of Jack's old baseball caps.

Contrary to Robby's initial beliefs, Dennis didn't burn to a crisp the second sunlight hit his skin. Actually, he quite liked sunbathing. He did, however, start feeling sick if he was out in direct sunlight for too long and didn't apply sunscreen. That explained the also borrowed flannel that was currently swallowing him whole.

"Sorry, I know I'm stealing your fun hiding spot," Robby chuckled, thinking about how Dennis used to stalk through the dead plants and watch him and Jack like a wild animal. Robby could distinctly remember seeing his bright eyes catch his flashlight a few nights.

Now, Dennis was oddly…domesticated. He didn't watch from afar, anyhow. He just watched them from a close distance. Not that Robby was complaining.

Dennis shrugged. "It'll be back. My dad had a tractor just like this, y'know."

Robby hummed. "Really?"

"Yeah. He hated it. It never worked."

Robby sighed sadly, any hopes of having a working tractor fading. He climbed up to the little seat at the top.

There was the main seat, and an empty little spot by the engine, which Robby assumed was where people set drinks and whatnot for long days in the fields. Dennis, however, apparently had a different use for the little spot.

He climbed up too, on the side without little steps, which Robby and his old joints couldn't help but be a little impressed with. He wedged himself in the little spot, back leaned up against Robby's leg. He ruffled the hat on Dennis's head tenderly, watching him fight to look up over the brim with a chuckle.

Dennis seemed content to watch the field roll by in silence. He wiggled from time to time to ensure that none of his bare skin was cooking in the sun, but stayed mostly pressed against Robby's leg. Robby wondered passively if Dennis would be more comfortable in his lap, but chickened out instead of offering.

"How come you don't have a farm dog?" Dennis hummed, letting a sliver of sun hit his face under the hat.

Robby chuckled and fixed the hat for him. "What, you don't think Jack's doing well?"

"My parents had, like, three dogs."

Robby looked out at the pasture, where the sheep were finally able to graze again. Having a dog to herd them on the nights that Jack didn't want to might be nice, but also…then they'd have a dog. Robby couldn't remember the last time he had a pet.

"Do you want a dog?" Robby asked, looking down at him.

Dennis shrugged. "I like Jack."

"Why'd the topic come up, anyway?"

"I used to let one of the farm dogs ride here when my dad made me plow the field we had," he said, punctuating the words with a little pat on the metal by his legs.

A few stripes up and down the field later, and Dennis hopped off to go inside and hide from the heat. Robby wondered how he would survive summer.

—————————————

Dennis didn't go out much during the day, but he'd hang around with Jack and Robby if either asked. He'd typically put on some sunscreen or sunglasses first, though.

He was sitting out by the little pond on the property, feet dipping into it. The animals often drank from it or hung around it to cool off on hot days, which Dennis had noticed and taken to doing the same. Jack walked over, still in his work gloves from bramble pulling, and stood behind him.

Dennis leaned back to rest on his leg. "It's hot out here."

"Just hop in the water," Jack chuckled, playing with his hair mindlessly.

A little sigh escaped him. "I dunno how."

Jack raised an eyebrow. On his old knees, he knelt beside Dennis and looked at him curiously. The boy shuffled awkwardly, face a little flushed.

"You don't know how to swim?" Jack asked.

He fiddled with his hands in his lap. "Not really…"

Jack chuckled. Dennis was always so enigmatic. He was of the impression that Dennis could do basically anything. The boy just did things, wonderful things, like they were casual. He always seemed to supply the answers to unasked questions and things of that nature. It hadn't occurred to Jack that he could just not know how to do something.

"I'll teach you," Jack prompted.

Reluctantly, Dennis's green eyes flashed to the water. Then, he slipped out of his flannel and shorts, leaving himself in a pair of briefs. Jack watched him spray himself with more sunscreen and dip his feet into the water.

He slid his legs in experimentally, holding himself on the deck. Jack gently urged him into the water, where his feet could touch the ground but the water came up to his waist.

"It's really cold," he chuckled, looking up at Jack from the water as the older man sat fully on the wooden panels. His legs hung over the edge, beside where Dennis was holding onto the deck with white knuckles.

Jack chuckled softly and ruffled his hair. "Your feet can touch the bottom, sugar. Let go."

He scrunched his nose. "What if there's snakes or something?"

"I don't think they're gonna bite you."

Dennis laughed softly and let go of the wood, allowing himself to stand in the greenish water. Jack directed him on how to doggy paddle, and while he was shaky at it, he laughed softly as he learned.

As the sun started to set on their fun, he paddled over to Jack and laid his wet hair on his legs.

"You're getting my pants wet," Jack smiled at him, rubbing his freckled shoulder.

He heaved himself out of the water and onto the deck. "Next time, you're getting in with me."

"I only have one leg, sweets. I'll just go in circles."

His dumb joke elicited another laugh from the boy. They walked up to the house together, Dennis having slid back into his pants and nothing else. He walked past Robby and up to his bedroom to warm up from the cold water.

Robby raised an eyebrow. "And just what did you two get up to for him to be soaked?"

Jack grinned. "Oh, relax, I was just teaching him how to swim. Poor thing didn't know how."

"In the pond? There are snakes in there, y'know."

"Party poopers, the both of you."

Robby rolled his eyes and kissed his husband softly.