Archive of Our Own

1 - Venice, 1500s
Ever since Marius told him the story of soulmates, Amadeo dreamt of red strings. A connection only vampires could see, a union formed at first skin-to-skin contact with one’s destined. It was the only secret Marius confided in him, and he held the knowledge close to his heart. Soulmates. It was a chance that he wasn’t alone in the world. And if soulmates were real, then destiny was too. It meant his past wasn’t doled out at random, it all happened on the road to the other half of his soul.

He longed for Marius to pass on his powers. Amadeo wanted to see the red line spooling out from his hand. Not blood for once, but belonging. Humans had soulmates too, Marius said, just couldn’t see the ties. He looked at Amadeo often, eyes tracing along his invisible string. Any attempt to learn more was swept aside with blood-kisses. When Marius was good to him, it felt like fate.

It must be how Marius found the brothel, one soul calling out to another. Sometimes, Amadeo swore he could see something tied around his finger. Only after a good dose of Marius’ blood. Usually after one of the guests played too rough and he needed tending. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but he wanted to believe it was his string. He never brought it up, too fragile in those moments. It was easier to savor the gentle handling, the chill of his Master’s embrace.

His mind always wandered in the blood-high. There were others who held him too. His heart ached for nights out with Riccardo. He swore he could feel the tug of something intangible between them. Tipsy joy as they kissed when Marius was away. Oh, and the soft nights resting his head in Bianca’s lap, it was almost as if his hand tangled with something beyond her curls.

He tried not to think about them when Marius was near. It was wrong to long for others when his soulmate was right there, providing him with anything he could ever need. Just not the powers Amadeo longed for. Bitterness welled inside him.

“Tell me again.” Amadeo was in bed. His head ached, but he wouldn’t sleep until Marius left on his next trip. There was no knowing when he’d return. Unfair. Ten years since he learned about soulmates and Marius still wouldn’t turn him.

Marius sighed, slipping on his usual red robes. “Rest, Amadeo. Our guests arrive tomorrow and you’ll have to be a good host in my absence.”

“A good host.” Amadeo scoffed. The last guests were cruel with his body. Why should he play nice when Marius was away? “How would I know about that?”

“I’ve spoiled you.” Marius gave him a disappointed look. Amadeo didn’t bother hiding the distaste in his thoughts. “You used to be so obedient. Now you ignore everything I’ve taught you. Have you forgotten how to use your skills?”

How you use my skills, Amadeo thought loudly.

“Insolent.” Marius didn’t bother looking at him. Pain seared through Amadeo’s head. He closed his eyes until it passed. A month of aches and nausea. It was more than a passing illness.

“The blood,” Armand whispered. “Before you go.”

Marius sighed again. He rounded the bed and held his cut wrist to Amadeo’s mouth. Hazy pleasure washed over Amadeo, outshining the lingering pain. Even the bitterness eased. He stared up at Marius, enthralled.

“I love you,” he muttered. “You know my soul is incomplete when you leave.”

Marius hummed. “That should tide you over until my return. Be good, yes?”

***

Two days later and the pain had taken over. Amadeo wanted to let it wash him away. Distantly, he could feel a hand in his and a cloth pressed to his forehead. Someone was speaking comforting words with a quivering voice, but he couldn’t make it out. The guests had been easy enough to handle, but afterward he felt so weak. He must have collapsed in the hall. His body ached in all the usual places, but there was something new. The uneasy promise of the end.

He slipped in and out of consciousness. A slow, eternal death. He called out into the void for his master to return. More comforting words, another hand petting his hair.

The doors crashed open and Amadeo flinched. He whimpered when the hands slipped away. The room went still. A cold grip maneuvered his body, prodding at his skin, running over his scars. He jolted when a sharp rush ran through his veins. The blood.

“You’re back.” Amadeo forced a smile.

“Don’t speak,” Marius commanded.

“I’m dying. Give it to me. Let me have all your secrets. I want to see the strings.” Amadeo rolled his head to the side, leaving his neck bare. “This is why you brought me home, master, please.”

He drifted again, head pounding despite the small hits of blood. He was snatched from the haze at the prick of fangs in his neck. Yes, finally. Amadeo tried to ignore the unnatural numbness of his limbs as Marius drank him down. There was a low rumble of panic in his mind. He was dying. But it was right, what was always meant to happen. Still, the tears came, running down his cheeks as he was hauled up and pressed to Marius’ neck. The blood was hot and potent, lighting him up like a bonfire. It was all too much, he’d crumble to ash.

Something slotted into place, his mind going sharp. He pulled away on his own. The world looked entirely new and his body felt strong in a way he’d never known.

It was a short-lived relief. Terror drew out gasps and sobs as the last thread of his humanity snapped. He stared up at Marius through the ordeal, eyes catching on the stark red string as he was cleaned off. The soul-tie! Amadeo scrambled to follow it, growing confused as it led towards the other end of the room. He pushed away from Marius and held up his hand. There it was, his string. It fell limply away from him, away from Marius. He doubled over and clutched at himself, there wasn’t anything left inside him.

“It will pass.” Marius took his face in hand to examine him. “Orange eyes.”

Amadeo batted the grip away. Despair and fury warred in him, leaving a barren emptiness in their wake. “I can see the strings.”

“Ah, yes.” Marius tutted. “You were always so caught up on soulmates. The most useless of all vampiric gifts.”

“You said…” Amadeo sputtered. “I thought… Why did you save me? If you’re not my soulmate then why…”

Marius frowned. Pity filled his words. “Foolish boy. I never said we were soulmates. Get up. You must hunt.”

Amadeo crumpled, hands tangling in his hair. He let out a guttural scream. Marius tried to stifle it, but the doors were already swinging open, giving way to Bianca and Riccardo. They rushed to his side, their hands caressing his aching body, looking for an injury. He waited for something, anything, but their strings stayed limp as they fussed.

Amadeo buried his face in the sheets and sobbed. “Leave me alone! All of you go!”

“He’s delirious,” Marius said placatingly. “But I brought back a cure. Leave him to rest.”

The fight was drained out of him. Marius took him somewhere, gave him an easy victim, and the blood tasted like nothing, even as his body craved more. He had no ties. It was foolish to believe he’d be anything other than alone.

2 - Paris, 1700s/1940s
Fledgling Lestat was such a naive thing as he fumbled through vampirism while Armand watched from the shadows. His starkest confusion was the thin red string that trailing from his finger. Reading his thoughts revealed twisted memories. The looming figure of the deserter Magnus was always there, laughing alongside Lestat’s struggles. Armand dove deeper, saw strange experiments and violations. Magnus’ fumbling last ditch attempt to bind their souls with old magic.

Lestat didn’t know what was happening in the beginning, but the fledgling vampire felt the wrongness in his bones as Magnus tugged at his soul tie. Magnus was unsuccessful in his alchemy. Lestat’s string ended neatly, untethered. Just like Armand’s.

The collapse of the Children of Darkness did little to move him. He let Lestat take him home despite his mother’s protests. And, again, he let this stranger bathe him. Wash away the sins of the past and start anew. No longer the leader of a buried cult. His next role awaited him outside the tub.

Lestat’s magnetism gave him the confidence to rise from the water and dress in new, clean clothes. The tempting line of a soul tie, just out of reach, felt like a tease. He longed to be tethered to such a radiant vampire. When Lestat touched him, something dead inside him twitched awake. Centuries alone, and someone was touching him without cruelty.

The theater wasn’t his idea, but he could do his role. Indulge whims in the dark and bed down with Lestat at daybreak. Sleep rarely came to him. Instead, he peered into Lestat’s coffin and borrowed his dreams. Nightmares mostly. Magnus’ dirt-caked fingers on his soul tie.

A hundred nights and the temptation grew too strong. He gently pinched the end between his fingers. Lestat twitched, but did not wake as Armand laid the end of his own string beside it. Stark red against the sheets, like the blood they so often shared. He could do this forever. Direct the plays and be kissed, be held. Anything to kill the ache.

He ensured Lestat did not wake as he tied a small knot between their strings. For just a moment, Armand hoped. He loved Lestat. Maybe he could form this bond and find a person to call home. It looked so tidy with the ends pulled tight. They could take control of their own fate, find solace in each other.

But the second he let go, the knot unfurled.

Armand snatched the strings back, tying another knot, one he’d learned by watching the men on the ship when he—

It wouldn’t hold.

“Why?” He’d whispered. “Why don’t you love me? Why won’t anyone…”

He slammed the coffin closed. Useless. Centuries on centuries and no one wanted him. He spent the rest of the night wandering, waiting for the sting of the sun to muffle the void inside. He didn’t want to feel anything. It was all disappointment repeated until his mind shattered. Over and over, destruction and hope.

Lestat left him. There was no reason for him to stay. What was another century of loneliness against the others? No one was waiting for him on the other side. He crushed the last remnants of hope beneath his feet as he marched on. Years into decades into… something new.

Louis was unexpected. A man with an untethered string. That alone was nothing special, but the end was fraying in an unnatural way. Armand sifted through his mind. Louis was awful at hiding his thoughts, especially surrounding Lestat. Armand could read the whole story from him. This was Lestat’s soulmate. The realization made him nauseous. He’d assumed Lestat was like him, a creature damned to a lonely eternity. But even Lestat was granted a chance at love. What had Armand done to not deserve the same chance?

Lestat had squandered it. Armand sought out Louis' memory of their separation often. Him crying out as he sliced through Lestat’s throat and their soul tie in one slow move. An unthinkable decision, a fascinating one. Louis purposefully severed the connection Armand wanted more than anything. He’d written off his soulmate in favor of choosing his own destiny. Why not try to do the same?

With Louis, he could be small. Perhaps still lonely, but after so many years as Maitre, it was soothing to be small. Louis always wound his string around his wrist, keeping it out of the way. They never brought it up. When they fucked, Louis would tug at Armand’s string. It sounded like pleasure when he cried out. Inside, he felt numb.

But they were trying. Despite Louis’ string twitching away at the mere thought of Lestat, it was worth trying.

3 - San Francisco, 1973
One hundred and twenty-eight boys. Armand scraped his nails along the couch. He should put an end to it. Louis had given up on trying long ago. His heart—his soul—had never been in it. That festering string always taunted him. What did Louis look for in his straying? Pleasure? Or just time away from Armand?

The thought infuriated him. It was Louis that trapped them in the web. That spiteful kiss before Lestat doomed each of them to a soulless eternity. Armand should leave him. Except… if he didn’t have a soulmate in four centuries, he never would. At least with Louis he wasn’t alone. And if he tried hard enough to make up for his cowardice, they could be happy.

He let the sun sting as he wandered to Louis’ Divisadero “investment”. He listened for the boy of the night, taking in his thoughts. Louis hadn’t even fucked the pathetic thing. And, oh, the boy had begged for The Gift as if it were some ticket out of misery. Ridiculous. Yet Louis chose to spend time with this boy over him. What made him so fascinating?

Armand barged into the room and tore Louis from the boy. The drugs had already done their damage. Louis’ eyes were dilated as he threw insults and faux apologies. It was almost gratifying to air their grievances like this, to let loose all the rot as the boy bled out on the floor.

“Well at least I have a soulmate.” Louis laughed cruelly. It tapered off into something broken. “Claudia did too. Can you hear her? She’s calling me…”

Panic shot through Armand. He chased Louis into the sun and dragged him back. Louis would choose death as his companion over Armand. It was unfair! After the effort he’d put in to remedying the past, after the slights he’d endured, this was what he got? Armand stared down at his companion, charred beyond recognition and groaning in agony. Louis picked that agony over him. Useless boys and deadly sunlight over him. What made them so desirable?

Well, he had time to find out. He turned his attention to the boy. His body was easy to manipulate, so fragile. It was too soon to break him, though. He needed to understand.

Armand dove into his mind. There had to be something special. Not the coldness or self-effacing. Something ineffable that made this boy, Daniel, so magnetic. Even Armand felt the pull, the desire to learn more about a stranger. There was a raw desperation in Daniel, a spark of curiosity despite the fear and adrenaline shooting through him. He hated the fight in him, the light still behind his eyes.

Five nights of torment and Daniel still didn’t want to rest.

It was impossible. He wanted to pick Daniel apart from the inside, scrape his nails along the ridges of his brain. How dare a mortal boy have such a pull? Armand despised how caught up he was, just like Louis.

“Hey, man,” Daniel said from in front of the TV. “Can you at least change the channel?”

Armand stared at him.

“If I’m gonna die,” Daniel winced as the wound on his neck dribbled blood, “then I don’t want infomercials to be the last thing I see.”

“And what would you rather see?” Armand flicked off the TV with a wave of his hand. “The charred body of your dear ‘friend’ Louis? Your own broken body? Or do you want the last thing you see to be me, delivering the final blow?”

Daniel didn’t speak, but his thoughts ran wild. A strange fascination with death and instinctual fear fought for purchase. Images flickered through his mind, all the failures and small victories of his life. Armand stilled at a fleeting thought from the very back of Daniel’s consciousness.

Looking at you isn’t so bad.

“You are very odd, Daniel Molloy.” Armand shuddered at the wave of shame that sent across Daniel’s body. He was too deep in the boy’s mind, too lost in him.

“Don't kick a guy while he’s down,” Daniel muttered. “Just kill me already. If I’m gonna go now, at least it’ll be interesting.”

“Oh?” Armand puppeted Daniel’s body to stand. Curses flitted through the boy’s mind. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He left Daniel to watch as he prepared a clean rag and bowl of water. Once he was settled at the table, he beckoned Daniel over. It only took a fraction of his power. Part of Daniel already wanted to go along with it. A desire for comfort, the need for a story, and a rigid commitment to surviving were all there. A swirling mess. Armand soaked the cloth and wrung it out, all while Daniel watched, transfixed.

“I’ve been calling to you for some time,” Armand started. Daniel sagged in his seat at the first brush of cloth.

Why, echoed through Daniel’s mind. After fucking me up, he cleans me off and speaks softly. What’s this guy’s deal?

A genuine want to understand. Armand shushed Daniel’s little whimpers when he wiped over the bite wound. He couldn’t help but run his thumb along the skin behind Daniel’s ear, ready to lull him down to rest.

Then something changed.

Armand felt it ricochet through his body. He tore his hand away and stared at his string. It was emitting an almost imperceptible warmth. He followed it with growing horror. Not this boy. It couldn't be. He must have touched him earlier, this had to be a mistake, but he’d not touched skin when tearing Louis from the boy.

The transition between his string and Daniel’s was seamless. Armand shoved his chair back and stood, feeling the motion tug at the string. Daniel stared up at him with wet eyes.

“No,” Armand whispered.

“What happened,” Daniel slurred, rest dancing at the corners of his vision. Such unfathomable curiosity even at death’s door. Armand froze time. He circled the room and tangled his fingers in his hair to keep from shaking.

A century of understanding crumbled on top of him. He wasn’t meant to have a soulmate, he was beyond saving. And yet, his string still led to Daniel. Even as he collected it into a tangled mess in his palms, it stayed bright and strong. He grabbed Daniel’s limp hand and studied the knot around his finger.

It couldn’t be true. Not with this boy, not with a mortal.

A man that was going to die. Fate was cruel to gift and deny in one move. Armand had a soulmate who would wither away before his eyes. Premature grief filled him to the core. What was he meant to do now? Armand would never turn the other half of his soul, never condemn him to suffer the pain of eternity. And Daniel would never understand the churning storm inside of him, could never truly see the soul hiding within. Trial after trial. He stared at Daniel, the vulnerable expression on his face. Yes, he was fascinating, even more so now.

But what did any of that matter? Armand had already gone and spoiled the one thing he was meant to cradle. The past few nights secured the tragedy. Daniel would not forgive him for the blood spilled. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him. Monstrous by nature.

Armand dove into Daniel’s mind again, taking in the pain of each injury he’d caused. It was his pain now too, wasn’t it? Shared like his string—their string. Maybe if he borrowed some of the ache, it would let him crawl an inch forward in Daniel’s eyes. The thought was bitter. Another cage of resentment. What difference was there with his soulmate than with Louis? He was playing the good nurse again.

Daniel blinked slowly when time restarted. His brow furrowed like he could somehow sense the monumental change between them. Armand could heal the wounds, but he was too starved to do it. Just a little sip would do the trick. He could smell the boy’s blood. A ravenous hunger descended on him.

“Don’t worry,” Armand placed a trembling hand on Daniel’s cheek. “I’ll make you well again. Come here, I’ll hold you.”

Daniel leaned forward, letting himself be held as Armand gently sunk his fangs in. The blood slid down his throat like ambrosia. He drank reverently, not for his own satisfaction, but for Daniel, who sagged against him with a happy sigh. He could give this little pleasure. Armand nearly choked when Daniel’s hands came up to hold him in turn.

“Stop, Armand.”

The illusion of togetherness shattered. He held Daniel close so the string was hidden between their bodies. A strange protectiveness surged in him. Louis should not get to look at his boy in this state. He could read the intention of Louis’ thoughts, his fear for Daniel’s life. He paused time again, stuck at fate’s crossroads.

He couldn’t tell Louis. But what to do with Daniel, then? How to construct a version of the night that made sense? He would tamper with their memories. It was the only way to keep Daniel to himself. And, if Daniel didn’t remember the pain, then maybe he would have a chance at something nice.

Armand cut his wrist and pressed it to Daniel’s parted lips. Still frozen, Armand could see the glint of the low light in his eyes. So young. He deserved a chance at life. Instead he was tied down to death.

“Drink,” he commanded, freeing Daniel from his hold. “Tomorrow you will wake elsewhere. You won’t question it. Instead of pain, you’ll remember what it felt like to be held. All you did was speak to Louis. He bit you. You blacked out.”

“He bit me,” Daniel said when Armand pulled his wrist away. “I blacked out.”

“And you,” Armand turned to Louis, still frozen in time. “You found me drinking from him and insisted I stop. You do not see the string between us. It’s not there.”

He positioned himself at Daniel’s neck and let his powers fade out, playing Arun as Louis took care of the boy for just a moment. Armand stood vigil at the door, ready to leave Daniel to the life he deserved, one away from monsters.

But after lying Daniel on a tattered mattress among other addicts, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Louis returned to coffin, leaving Armand to watch for hours until Daniel finally rose. He trailed Daniel down the street, taking in his confusion. He should leave the boy to his life, intercede only when necessary.

Daniel stumbled and caught himself against the nearest building. Fuck, he thought, I haven’t done shit yet, can’t OD now.

An insatiable urge to live. The desire to make a difference in the world. Blind, naive hope that made his soul ache. Daniel grit his teeth and kept walking, a new determination surging through him. And Armand knew it would never be as simple as watching from the sidelines.

4 - Chicago, 1974 - 1985
Armand couldn’t resist Daniel. He was addicted to his very presence. It was easier when he was simply following Daniel. He could watch the way their string moved between them and feel the pull when they were apart. But Daniel was reckless. Armand found himself interceding more and more often, steering Daniel away from trouble.

“I know you’re there,” Daniel said one night, smoking on his fire escape. “You think you’re real sly, but I’m not that dumb. What I don’t understand is why you’re tailing me. Go find a real reporter.”

Armand stepped out of the shadows and gracefully floated up to Daniel’s floor. The boy gaped at him.

“Shit!” Daniel scrambled to crawl back inside. In his rush, he hit the window latch and it slammed shut. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Armand said as his feet met the metal grating.

“You can fly,” Daniel squeaked out. “What are you? Why are you following me?”

Armand hummed. “You’ve met one like me before. Although, he can’t fly.”

Daniel’s face scrunched, a pulse of fear running through him.“Vampire?”

Armand nodded. He wanted to take Daniel in his arms again, to shake the recklessness out of him. “I’ve been watching you for some time.”

“I know.” Daniel’s hand shook as he took a pull of his cigarette. “You’re not subtle. So what now? You drain me? My blood probably tastes like shit, you’ve seen what I get up to.”

“You are…” Armand trailed off. Daniel was a chance at belonging, the other half of him. It would scare the boy off. “Fascinating. I will continue to follow you until I’m satisfied.”

“Yeah?” Daniel assessed him. “What if I don’t wanna be followed?”

Armand shrugged. “Then perhaps you should start running.”

The chase was intoxicating. He was able to track Daniel without his powers, just by following their string across the globe. Every day spent near Daniel was a revelation. With Louis, the advancements of the past decade were drowned out by misery. With Daniel, there was a spark in him, something that just needed a little kindling to become a bonfire.

Except Daniel was not one to be tied down. Armand had no right to feel jealous over Daniel’s hookups. The boy’s sexuality was loose, easygoing. He’d bed down with nearly anyone interested. He had to know Armand was there some of those nights, watching. The worst were the transactional encounters. Daniel taking cruel treatment in exchange for a fix. It was all escapism. A distraction from Daniel’s unsuccessful search for ineffable truth. Always moving, his Daniel. He would loathe the very concept of soulmates. But for a little while, why not be happy with what he was given? Why not pretend they could be more?

Daniel, impossible boy that he was, took the first step.

The pretense of preserving Daniel’s safety was long gone. Of course he still wanted the boy safe, but it wasn’t a large concern. Nothing could hurt him when Armand was near. And he was always near. The boy was gravity, their string the visual manifestation.

Daniel had just dragged home a radio he found in a dump.

“For you to take apart,” he said with a smile. “You love that shit.”

Even something so small felt like being put under a microscope. The concept of hobbies was still new, still chafed to discuss at length. But Daniel seemed thrilled with every little discovery about Armand. Ever the bright young reporter.

Armand examined the radio for the simplest way to dismantle it. Daniel started to laugh. It went from endearing to concerning in just a few moments.

“Daniel, are you alright?” Armand set the radio aside and stepped closer.

“Yeah, boss. Golden.” Daniel shook his head as if perplexed. “I just realized something. Groundbreaking shit. Wait! Stay outta my head!”

Armand bristled. “Why?”

What unfortunate realization had Daniel come to? Was Armand too odd? Was being fascinated by a broken radio from a dumpster the final straw that made Daniel see past his awe?

“I…” Daniel bridged the distance between them and placed a hand on Armand’s cheek. “I like you.”

It took a moment for the words to settle in. Armand felt pinned in place, weak against Daniel's emotion. This was the first time in nearly four centuries someone liked him.

“Can you believe it?” Daniel ran his thumb over Armand’s cheekbone. “I have a crush on you.”

Childish nervousness bloomed in Armand’s chest. He hadn’t felt like this since the early days when he and Louis might have stood a chance. And to hear such words from this boy, his soulmate, who he had fallen so entirely in love with… Armand ducked his head when his eyes began to shake.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel.” Armand aimed for unimpressed and landed on pitiful.

“I’m not kidding. The past few years were the best of my goddamn life. Even during your stalking phase. I mean you’re the most interesting person ever. Like actually ever. And you’re terrifying and murderous and scary. Not to mention how fucking cute you are. Like, shit man, you must have seen my sappy thoughts already. Who am I kidding trying to hide it?”

Armand forced himself to look at Daniel and peeked at his thoughts. It was real, or at least Daniel thought so. A schoolboy crush, perhaps, but it still made Armand want to cry. Daniel must have caught it in his expression because the next thing he knew, he was cradled in Daniel’s arms, face tucked against his neck.

Words failed him. He whispered in Daniels’ mind, I am the best part of your life? Are you certain?

“Yeah, baby. You hit better than crack.”

It was a joke, then. Armand had huffed out a laugh. Such naivety to not realize just how true Daniel’s words would become. That was the first night they made love. At least, that’s what it was for Armand, pressing his love against Daniel’s skin. So many times they laid together since and it never got old. He longed for the boy who smiled like he was drunk whenever Armand was near. But the smile grew weaker every passing year. Drugs and a swirling mass of darkness were taking over his sweet boy. The good times never stayed. Armand learned it long ago. He’d hoped it might be different with his soulmate. Fate’s fool.

Now Daniel said “love” and it sounded like "dependency". It was hard to parse out when things changed. Those lovely years together, Armand had almost believed he and Daniel could work. But Armand’s love was corrupt. No one survived it. Armand could only blame himself for getting involved. He should have stayed away. Someone like him could never care for another soul properly.

“Boss,” Daniel muttered from the bed. He was feverish in withdrawal, only half-conscious as he held out a shaking hand. Armand watched their string run down from it, piling on the floor before reaching back out to him.

This was what he turned Daniel into. The boy had been a junkie when they met, desperate for the next fix, but the greatest addiction he’d ever succumbed to was the blood. Without it, he might have gotten clean on his own. Daniel was aware of his faults, even when he did little to curb them. Even now, there was guilt buried somewhere deep in Daniel’s thoughts. He wanted the blood and would play up their love to get it.

“Baby, please.” Daniel begged. “I’m really not feelin’ well.”

“I know.” Armand sat at the edge of the bed. He cupped Daniel’s face, savoring the way he pressed into the touch. His eyes were red with tears. It wasn’t going to get better. “Lay back.”

Once Daniel was resting against the headboard, Armand cut his wrist and let Daniel drink. He hated the lack of worship in the motions. Daniel had no care for what Armand was feeling, he was solely focused on the blood. When Armand finally pulled away, he whined.

“Just one more sip?” Daniel gave him a lopsided smile. He already looked miles better, as if his fever had been a mere farce.

“That’s enough.” Armand looked away. He heard the sheets rustle as Daniel drew closer, wrapping himself around his back and squeezing gently.

“Didn’t think you’d come.” Daniel hooked his chin over Armand’s shoulder. “I’ve been shitty lately.”

“Of course I came.” Armand shrugged him off. He didn’t want to take Daniel’s kindness, not when it was only given in exchange for the blood. Daniel pouted when Armand slipped away to lean against the wall. The closeness was unbearable in these moments.

Daniel’s gaze fell on the string stretching between them, squinting. He shouldn’t be able to see it. This was also Armand’s fault.

“You see that?” Daniel ran a hand over it, not really touching. “It’s back.”

It only happened after Daniel had the blood. The first time, after years of tiny blood exchanges, Armand panicked. He’d forced Daniel to rest, unprepared to face the idea of Daniel finding out. The blood let him see too much, risked everything falling apart. He’d grown reckless in his care, too caught up in someone trying to care for him in return to realize the harm he was causing. He’d reduced Daniel to this.

“See what?” Armand said as always.

“The string. Me and you.” Daniel stretched out his arm, admiring it. “Even my high-induced hallucinations know we’re meant to be together.”

The tone was unkind. Armand already knew how the night would go. Same old dance. “Please don’t start.”

“Me?” Daniel scoffed. He messed with the string, hands drifting through it, only causing the slightest movements. “I’m fucked, boss. How much longer can I go on like this? Some day, my body’s gonna fail. And even if I get better, stick to rehab or whatever, my life is just gonna be a blip in yours. How’s that fair?”

“Don’t,” Armand warned.

“Or what? You gonna hurt me? You won’t do that.” Daniel crossed his arms. “Turn me.”

“I’m not doing this tonight.” He wasn’t in the mood to hear his insecurities thrown back at him. “You got what you wanted, I’ll leave.”

“A few measly sips of your blood?” Daniel glared. Their string suddenly went taught, the loop around his finger threatening to slice through skin under the weight of Daniel’s resentment. “You know that’s not what I want. Turn me and we can be together.”

Daniel stood, stretching the string further. It felt like an organ in distress. “Stop it, Daniel.”

“No ‘beloved’? You must be pissed.” Daniel chuckled. He tugged on the string more, watching Armand wince. "You're lying to me. You see it. Whatever this shit is, it’s real.”

“I can see it through your mind. I am merely upset that you’re picking a fight, even when this is my first time seeing you in weeks.”

“Fuck you.” Daniel tugged again. Armand felt ill. “We’re good together. Turn me. You come here and spoil me and say you love me. But that can’t be true because you won’t keep me. You just wanna watch me waste away, right? Gets you hot and bothered to see me suffer.”

Armand hissed. “Do not doubt that I love you. Yell and hurt me, but don’t insult me in that way.”

“Shitty kind of vampire.” Daniel sneered. “Won’t even turn someone for four centuries. Then the perfect guy comes around and you still won’t do it. But instead of fucking off, you dance on the last thread of my sanity. After twelve fucking years of this, of me needing you like air, I deserve this.”

Anger lanced through him. “This is not a matter of what you deserve.”

“Isn’t it? I let you chase me around for years. And you’re you, so I fall in love like the weak mortal I am. And I let you drag me around, steal my nights, take over my entire life. And you’re saying I don’t deserve it?”

“Would you rather I hadn’t seen you at all?” Such vitriol in the air, unbreathable. “That I killed you in San Francisco or left during our chase? I can apologize for ‘stealing’ your nights if that’s your goal. I can leave you on your own.”

“No.” Daniel let out a frustrated noise. “I didn’t mean it like that. I deserve it because I love you.”

A wrecked sound escaped Armand, something between a laugh and sob. “You are everything, Daniel. I would not bestow this curse on my greatest enemy, let alone my most beloved!”

“Is that what I am to you? Doesn’t feel like it!” Daniel was yelling now, the blood-high fueling his rage. He yanked the string with enough force to topple Armand forward. “I knew you were lying. The fuck is this? Probably just another sign you should turn me that you ignore.”

“It is not!” Armand insisted. “Our tie is the main reason I would not turn you. To tear away the life of the other half of my soul would be my worst sin.”

Daniel paused, anger deflating as his head tilted in curiosity. He muttered, “The other half of your soul?”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Armand hurried to say. “I love you, Daniel, let’s not fight.”

Daniel examined the string. “I only see it when I drink your blood. So it’s got to do with magic vampire shit. You know humans have stories about…” His voice caught before he could continue. His gaze traced the string back to Armand. “I never believed in that stuff. But it’s there, countless old folk tales from all over the world. Stories parents tell their kids. Are we… Armand, are you my soulmate?”

Armand stared at him, trapped in place by fear. What if Daniel cut the string in his frenzy? What if he left for good after finding out the truth?

“Your face… it’s true, isn’t it?” Daniel stepped closer like he was approaching a wounded animal. The softness of his voice was ruthless. “Baby, you’ve known all this time? Vampires can see it, huh?”

“No,” Armand’s voice cracked. Blood welled in his eyes. “No, Daniel, this is just—”

“Shhh, honey.” Daniel wiped away the tears, then took Armand’s hands. His eyes were wide and desperate. “I know now. We are meant for each other. Look at our string. You won’t let me die because I’m all yours. Why wait when we could have eternity now?”

“It’s all torment.” Armand stared at their hands, their string. For a moment, he imagined an idyllic future. Laughing and hunting together. Watching the turn of each century with someone at his side. But it was only a dream. “Beloved.”

Daniel looked so hopeful, so sad. “Yeah?”

Armand kissed the backs of Daniel’s hands before choking out the word, “Rest.”

Hurt flashed over Daniel’s face as the command took over. He fell into Armand’s embrace, weakly trying to push back.

“No,” he slurred. “No, no.”

“Being tied to me is not good, Daniel.” Armand carried him to the bed. An old, familiar numbness took over his body as he stroked Daniel’s hair. He wasn’t truly in the room, was barely real. A shadow of a person. “It’s okay. You won’t even remember enough for it to hurt.”

Daniel’s tears soaked mattress even as he went unconscious. It was easy to slip into his mind, his memories. He saw Armand too kindly. The person in the memories was radiant and good. Daniel loved someone who didn’t exist. This was for the best. Gently, he took each memory and folded it down, tucking it away into a dark corner. Daniel wouldn’t even know to look for them.

Partway through, Armand caught sight of their string and felt something inside him break. It was going dull. Still there, but dimming with every hidden memory. Daniel would be better for it, he reminded himself. As for Armand, what did it matter?

5 - Dubai, 2022
Armand had kept his distance. It was the least he could do. But, that didn’t keep him from observing. Sitting at the back of lecture halls and book signings. Lingering at the edges of funerals and weddings. The second marriage had been far less painful to watch. He knew it would end before Daniel did.

When Louis asked for the interview, longing overpowered his better judgement. He missed Daniel too much to say no. Digging his own grave again. It would only end in more suffering.

Seeing Daniel close, after decades in the shadows, was surreal. He was just as beautiful as the day they met. Every part of him ached as he took in each new wrinkle, the lovely gray curls. His boy had lived.

“Hey.” Daniel waved half-heartedly from the sofa, their string swaying beneath his hand. Armand suppressed a wince at the state of it. “Stop staring at me.”

“Mr. Du Lac had our chef prepare a snack since you’ve been staying up late.” Armand held out a tray. “I hope they're to your liking.”

They were miniature replicas of dishes from the Copley. He lingered as Daniel ate. His reactions were so similar to that skittish boy at the hotel, scarfing down every dish on the menu.

“You want some?” Daniel asked. “Or are you just standing there to be creepy?”

Armand smiled placidly. “Enjoy your food, Mr. Molloy.”

It was increasingly difficult to be apart from Daniel. The steady thrum of his thoughts so close, his heartbeat just a wall away. Daniel was in the later years of his life. This could be their last dance. Nightmares plagued him. Daniel dying, there in the living room, before Armand could hold him one last time.

He stopped sleeping. Daylight was for monitoring the interview. His nights belonged to Daniel, as they always had. He waited for Daniel to shuffle off to his room and stood outside the door. The rustle of Daniel getting ready for bed was soft against his ears. Their string shifted with his movements.

Even as it dragged limply, the connection between them felt tense, ready to snap. He hadn’t realized how bad it was until Daniel arrived. On his end, the string steady, but Daniel’s side was fraying. There were sections holding on by just a few threads. Was it Daniel’s illness or their distance from each other that made it so weak?

How was Armand meant to survive without Daniel? Just the knowledge that the boy was alive in the world was enough for fifty years. Premature grief nearly drowned him. He wanted to tear out his hair and scream loud enough to wake the entire city. But Daniel needed his rest.

Once Daniel’s breath evened out, Armand slipped into the room. He took a small tin of beeswax and mixed his blood into the top layer. Armand took Daniel’s end of the string and carefully massaged the mixture into the fibers. It was a nightly routine. He was meticulous with the work, continuing until he reached the binding on his finger. Then, he took Daniel’s hand and gave extra attention to the binding there. The knot was still holding tight, no sign of slippage. Would it fall away after Daniel took his final breath? Or would he be forever tied to the corpse of his beloved?

Armand tried to shake the thoughts away, but he couldn’t avoid it anymore. Daniel was old. The sandglass was running out. Once again, Armand would wander the world as a lost soul. Always lonely.

Unless… No. He wouldn’t dare set the curse of eternity upon his beloved. Not when Daniel deserved so much better. Not when it would reveal the secret tethered between them. Daniel would hate him for it. For everything.

But at least he would know Daniel was out there, somewhere. Armand closed his eyes. It was a useless train of thought. He could not turn Daniel, it would be too cruel to both of them.

+1 - New York, Modern Day
Daniel was a formidable fledgling. A ferocious predator and a fast learner. Too fast, maybe. Eventually, Daniel would have discovered Lestat’s affair with his mother on his own. It was Armand’s first card to play for that reason. If he could prove a useful source of information, Daniel would stay, even now that he found out the contemptible truth.

Turning Daniel had been irrational, but how was he meant to go on alone in the world? Without even the facsimile of love that Louis provided? Without a set of rules or a known responsibility? He needed Daniel. Such a cruel, unfair need. Daniel would hate him for it. Not just the turning, but the memories it shook loose. Flashes at first, puzzle pieces that Daniel put together throughout his first year of immortality.

Armand couldn’t forget the look in Daniel’s eyes when he first noticed the string. The plane was landing, pressure changing between them as Daniel experienced the worst of the change. He’d cursed endlessly when Armand cleaned him up and slit a flight attendant's throat for him to drink from. Only when Daniel’s hunger was sated did he really comprehended their string.

“The fuck is that?” Daniel frowned. “No, wait. This is familiar. Like all those old stories, right?”

Armand was crying. Still and statuesque, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “Stories?”

“About soulmates…” Daniel wrapped the string once around his finger. It looked much healthier, though still dull at Daniel’s end. “Fuck you for all of this. Whatever this is. Stop sitting there like a wet cat. My head feels like it’s gonna explode and I think the walls are moving.”

“Being turned has that effect. A high of sorts.” Perhaps the feeling was worse when Daniel’s body knew the draw of his blood. And wasn’t that the worst of it? Letting Daniel back on his most addictive drug. “Call Louis when you disembark.”

“Why?” Daniel’s fangs were out, giving his words an endearing lisp. Armand couldn’t bear it. He’d condemned the other half of his soul in a moment of sheer panic. The one person he longed to protect, the best thing in his life, and he’d broken him over and over.

“Rest,” Armand whispered. The command was weak, muddied by their bond, but Daniel was already exhausted and went down easily. Armand cleared away the blood on his mouth before pressing a kiss to Daniel’s forehead. “It’s all my fault, beloved. This time, I will leave you to yourself.”

It was a lie. It always was. Armand couldn’t stay away.

Daniel looked beautiful in the sun. His skin was going red. It had to be painful, but Daniel was smiling, fangs out as he turned to Armand. A few months of lessons and Daniel had learned enough. It was a matter of exposure therapy now and he did not need Armand for that. There was no excuse, no information to reveal.

Their string was stronger than it had been in decades. It glowed as they returned to the hotel. Daniel had tried to bring it up a few times since reuniting. He was angry about all of it, including their string. Now that he had no use for Armand, the worst was sure to come.

Louis hadn’t talked much about cutting his string, but Armand saw it in his nightmares. The crushing feeling, the neverending multiplicity of vampire loneliness. Daniel must have considered it already. Perhaps there was a blade hidden under Daniel’s pillow, ready to sever the string the second they stepped inside. Armand would be on his best behavior until Daniel fell asleep. He could avoid it a while longer. He had to.

Daniel’s cruelty was mostly reserved for fights. There was no avoiding an argument when they were together, though, so it was inevitable. Leaving was the best option. Then he couldn’t upset Daniel. Or, if the string was cut, Armand wouldn’t see the look on Daniel’s face as he did it.

“That’s the longest I’ve gone.” Daniel shrugged off his jacket and sat at the edge of the bed. His coffin was pushed up against the wall. Armand purchased it for him. “Probably because all I’ve eaten the last three days is your blood. Do you think the string makes your blood supercharged? Are we not like other vamps?”

“Our bond is unique.” Armand couldn't stop the fondness in his voice. “I suspect it’s from consuming my blood as a mortal.”

“Oh?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You think the string has no bearing on it?”

So this was Daniel’s strategy. Find out if cutting the string would affect his power levels. “I don’t know nor do I wish to discuss it.”

“Didn’t seem to fuck with Louis or Lestat’s gifts,” Daniel mused. He scratched at his sunburn and winced. “You got any blood to spare, boss?”

“Of course.” Armand offered a wrist. Daniel latched on without hesitation, pulling him down to sit.

Daniel finished all too soon. He grinned. “Feeling better already.”

Armand ached. “I was thinking of preparing blood stores for you.”

“Like the farm? Scared we’ll get cut off after your master plan?” Daniel flopped down on the mattress.

“I meant my own blood.” Armand took a deep breath. “For when we are apart.”

Daniel sat bolt upright. There was something akin to panic in his face. A matching feeling thrummed across their bond. “Planning on going somewhere?”

“You’ve learned to daywalk. It just takes practice to build up immunity. I can… I will stay if you require further guidance, or if there is something I can offer—”

“Just cut the string if you don’t want me!” Daniel was standing over him now, breathing heavily with his fangs out. “Can’t sever the vampire one, so you’re stuck there. But if you can’t stand the visual reminder of your little mistake, just get rid of it!”

“I would never sever our tie. You’re the one who made your distaste for it clear.” Armand ran his hands over the string. “That first night you nearly snapped it with how roughly you pulled. Just make it quick, Daniel.”

Daniel scoffed. “You think I’m gonna cut the string?”

Armand was quiet. He refused to look at his beloved.

“Holy fuck.” Daniel paced the room a few times before sitting limply next to him. “You actually think that. Is that why you never told me?”

Armand shook his head, then reconsidered. “I hid it for several reasons. My fear of you severing it was one. You have some memories back, but perhaps our darkest moments haven’t returned. Fights during withdrawal were the worst. You said cruel things to me when I denied you the blood. It was a secret I couldn’t trust you with.”

“Never date a junkie,” Daniel muttered. “But I saw the string sometimes and you still lied. You tried to do it again when you turned me. Like I’m an idiot.”

“You were never meant to know.” Armand felt tension in the string. He glanced at Daniel’s hands. He was winding it around his fingers. Probably getting ready to pull it taught for an easy break. “You’ve always longed for things I can’t offer. Nothing ties you down. And I… am not built to love.”

Daniel laughed at that. Armand startled, finally glancing at his expression.

“Crazy thing for the biggest loverboy of the 20th century to say. You loved me so hard you bought me an island. Spoiled me way more than I deserved.”

Armand frowned. “I was not enough for you then. The drugs, the stories. You’re not remembering things correctly.”

“Neither are you. Always focusing on the negatives. I mean, I’m just as guilty, but at least I can acknowledge when pessimism gets in the way of reality.” Daniel held up his hand, string wrapped neatly around it. “I’d rather die than cut this, just to be clear. You’ve got it all wrong. Yeah, I’m pissed, but I’m here aren’t I? I went after you.”

Armand was lost as Daniel took his hand, string bundled in their grip. “Being tied to me is a curse. It will only drive us to ruin. You deserve to be free in the world.”

“Dramatic.” Daniel squeezed his hand. “I don’t think fate or the universe or whatever the fuck gets a say in who I’m with. I’m not here because of the string, I’m here for you. I’m choosing this. Don’t get stuck in the past. Right now, in this ugly post-modern hotel room, I’m choosing you. Whether fate likes it or not. It just so happens that it does.”

Armand’s eyes stung with the threat of tears. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” Daniel pressed his free hand to Armand’s cheek and rubbed away a tear. He leaned in, slowly, leaving room for escape. Armand didn’t dare move until he felt the briefest press of lips against his. Armand gripped Daniel’s hand like a vice. “We have a lot of shit to sort out. But if you stop avoiding every difficult topic, we can move past it. Can’t believe you thought I’d cut the string. Immortal idiot. I won the soulmate lottery and he’s out here acting like I don’t know that.”

“Are you certain?” Armand whispered.

Daniel bumped their shoulders together. “Yeah, boss.”

Armand pounced on him, shoving him back on the bed to kiss him deeply. After an initial moment of shock, Daniel met his intensity, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Daniel,” Armand said seriously, “I love you.”

“I know.” Daniel snickered when Armand’s nose scrunched in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Something zipped between them, whether from the string or their bond, it sent life through Armand’s body. He hugged Daniel, resting his head on his chest. The string was warm where it tangled between them.

Five hundred years of searching and hopelessness. But he was loved. A boy just for him, cradling him close.