Work Header

Off To Neverland

Work Text:

1885 Munich, Germany

Whirlwind was tough to track down.

Thanks to the exploits of Angelus and William the Bloody they were always on the move, running from one place to the next to avoid angry mobs and pitchforks and torches. Every time Max always got close, and would miss them by a few days. They had been moving through Europe, starting from London and moving East, but something made them switch course upon reaching St. Petersburg, and they were now retreating north again. Max was able, on good authority, to predict their next stop and was waiting when they arrived in Germany.

He traced them to a manor in Munich, a home that had once belonged to a wealthy merchant and his beautiful, radiant, young daughters. They had been slim pickings for the Whirlwind. This was Darla and Angelus' style, as admirers of beautiful things. Beautiful clothes, beautiful girls, beautiful boys, beautiful homes, they couldn't settle for second best.

As a fellow vampire, Max did not need an invitation from any of Darla's childer to enter. He came by the house a few hours after Angelus had left with some of the others and only Darla remained. She sat in the parlor, casually sipping some tea she had fixed, and lost in her own thoughts. Upon turning, she had changed from a whore to quite the proper young lady.

"Darla," Max greeted her, and sat down in a plush chair across from her. "It's been quite a while since I heard from you last, baby sister."

Children and servants of the Master, there were hundreds of them made over the centuries, but only few remained and those who did had strong ties with each other. Darla and Max, they were the oldest of these select few, and Max often found himself missing his dear little sister now that she was no longer around.

"Maxwell," Darla stated. "What brings you here?"

"I need a reason to spend with my favorite sister? Honestly, Darla, you used to be more outgoing. Has your involvement with Angelus really left you so cold towards even me?" He was trying to keep things between them light, comical, so with the right buzzwords when Angelus appeared, he would be far more gracious when he returned. "I've been following you for a while now. As far back as 1880, but haven't been able to keep up until now. I must say, Drusilla, William and Angelus certainly are quick-footed."

Darla shifted her gaze towards the nearest window, which offered a look out to the front porch. It was still dark outside, and desolate, with no signs of Dru or Will or anyone else in sight. "We can move fast when need be. When we are threatened and cannot fight."

"Angelus not fighting? That certainly sounds absurd." Max had been familiar with the other vampire just long enough to know how impatient he could be, and certainly how headstrong. "What on earth and in the five layers of hell could make that man bow down from a good brawl?"

Darla could hear them coming up the steps, hear them laughing, and she could hear them than Max could as well. The front door slammed open and the men of the house returned home from a good hunt. All three were laughing about some inside joke, as Angelus' carried David in on his shoulders, and Will followed close behind them. Their laughing stopped when they saw Max, sitting there and watching the three with great curiosity.

Angelus swung his son down off his shoulders, and handed him to William who held onto him tightly, in case they felt the need to flee. "Maxwell," the Irishman said, "What are you doing here?"

Not taking his eyes off the tiny creature in William's arms, Max replied. "I just popped in for a visit with my darling sister." He explained. "And I arrive to find that Angelus has turned a child..."

Turning a child was not unheard of, but still remained a rare event in the underworld. Children were needy, and lacked all of the qualities found in a proper companion. Why Angelus would enjoy the presence of this one to the point of turning him, Max couldn't wrap his head around.

Will growled protectively, "David is not some human child we picked up off the street! David is our son!"

Son? Max chuckled, and took off his glasses to properly clean them. "I'm sorry, I must be can...was it David? Yes. How can David here be your son? Aside from the vampire aspect of things, I'm afraid you're both very male and-" he paused. They had been traveling through Russia when the whirlwind made their turn around. Something had happened in Saint Petersburg, and if memory served right, there were numerous witch colonies surrounding the city. It could have been possible that...

"I see..." Max said slowly, "So he is...a vampire like us?" Most incredible, the Master certainly would be interested in meeting the boy. He rose to his feet, and made his way towards the three. Angelus and William were both growling at him, but Max held his hands up to show he meant no harm.

"I would just like to see my nephew." He said, "A boy like this hasn't come around before. I mean him no harm, I'm purely curious."

Neither William or Angelus backed down, but David was able to squirm around so Max could see his face. He looked so much like them both, William's eyes, William's curly blond hair, Angelus' nose, Angelus' cheekbones...A pretty cute kid in total.

"For someone who is only three years old, you're certainly a big boy." He cooed, and wondered, just to himself, why he found the boy so adorable. Parental instincts he believed to have suppressed four hundred years ago were resurfacing and Max felt powerless against them. "Strong too I bet, like your papa?"

David managed a small smile, but buried his face back into Will's chest. Shy little thing. It was sweet.

"His aging is abnormal, accelerated. The witches said it was to be expected, and should slow down and stop once he's matured." Will told him, taking offense to the remark that his son was large for his age. David was around six years of age, physically, mentally and emotionally, and perfect. "And my son has powers the world cannot even begin to imagine."

Intriguing, but not something Max cared about. "Such a sweet little tyke...have you made any kills yet?"

David perked up at this, and nodded eagerly. "Some guys 'ere buggin' mama! Killed 'em! All o' 'em!" He was quite proud of that. That he was strong enough now to protect his mother from the nasty humans. Both his mother and father, and Auntie Dru and Auntie Darie, had been so happy, so pleased, so proud of him. David loved being so strong.

Max laughed, and ruffled the boy's hair. "I bet you did!" Such a sweet young thing, so loyal, so worshipping of his made Max want one of his own. That couldn't happen to him the same way it happened to the Whirlwind, so he would have to settle for the next best thing.

Turning teenagers and youths was risky business but it would be the closest thing to a family like this Max would ever get.

1906 Santa Carla, California

Teenagers were stupid. In the past 16 years alone Max had turned a total of five youths hoping for the family his sister had and all perished in increasingly stupid ways. Todd had gotten drunk, fell asleep outside and met the sun, Felix flew into a building and broke his neck, Marsha had been playing with a piece of broken fence and accidentally staked herself, Louise lit a fire to hide the bodies of those they had eaten and fell in, and Gerry had bragged so loudly about being a vampire that it attracted the attention of local hunters. Morons, the lot of them.

Santa Carla was full of them, full of morons ripe for the plucking. They were all at the beach, and staying in some high end hotel overlooking the sea. Nice enough place, but the clients was lacking.

Max entered the building and looked around for any who were by themselves. There were a group of them over the stairs, yammering loudly about some threat of an earthquake. It was all madness of course...

Something drew Max's attention to a balcony over looking the lobby. A faint scent, one Max could not recognize, but knew from before. It was something he had come across in his many years of travel, but only briefly. Not something or someone he would have been around more than once.

There was a youth there looking down at him. Not a necessarily bad looking man, but not one Max would have blinked twice at. Centuries of living opened your mind, made you realize the beauty of Greek and Roman ideals, of relations with partners of the same or different sexes. This one staring at him looked like a couple of old flings. That was the thing about Max's relationships, he never went for the pretty boys or the most beautiful girls, he picked ones that drew him to them. Like the one who smelled so familiar.

Fascinated, Max slowly made his way past the youths gathered around and made his way up the stairs, not taking his eyes off the boy. He didn't move, didn't walk away, only watched as Max moved towards him. The boy pulled a carton of smokes out of his coat pocket and offered one to Max.

"No thanks. Filthy habit." Max had never taken to smoking, even as a human. "You're a little young, don't you think?"

The boy snorted and started rooting through his coat pockets for a lighter. "I grew up with smoking, drinking and other shit always in my face. I ain't no little kid there Grandpa."

Such boldness, Max was taken back. Never before had someone been so upfront with him, so brutally honest. There was an element of mystery to this young man, an element of danger.

It was intoxicating.

"Where are your parents?" Max inquired, and did a quick sweep of the lobby to make sure no pissed off daddy would be coming his way soon. "Surely they wouldn't let their handsome young boy be alone in such a big city."

"I am currently not on speaking terms with them." The boy said, finally producing a lighter and lit his smoke. He took a puff before continuing. "Listen, I don't care much for these games. I know what you are, you know what I am. Just tell me what you want so it'll end already."

Such lack of concern....

Such an attitude....

Such rebelliousness in the face of authority....

Max liked this kid, so following his demands he would keep it simple as he had asked.

"You're a vampire like me?" He asked.

"Yes but there are no other vampires like me."

"Oh. Some hidden talents the world has yet to encounter?"

"A number of them."

"You're here alone?"

"Have been alone since 1892."

"Have you ever been with another man?"


"Are you open to being with another man."

"I don't really care."

The boy paused, thought over his words, and looked Max up and down as he chewed the end of his cigarette. "Second thought, I do care. I'm not having sex with you for free."

"You're a....vampire prostitute?"

This earned him a nice long laugh from the youth. Once he was finally able to control himself the boy shook his head. "No! I'm not a whore. I'm jut not going to crawl into your bed without getting a little something extra out of it."

"Like what?"

"Booze, drugs, money, girls, don't really matter. Just need something to keep my mind off you."

"And just why would you need to do that?"

The youth and Max locked eyes again, and the older vampire noticed for the first time he had become entranced by the younger man that he had the softest baby blue eyes. Eyes that Max was more than familiar with. Eyes that Max could recognize.

"Because I know you," The youth, Angelus' son David explained, "And I know that word will get back to my family. Might as well give them a scare. Make 'em think I'm walking the streets with the pretty girlies, sucking off sailors for cash. Would hurt 'Em bad."

Max had done plenty of horrible things in his time on this earth. He killed, he pillaged, he tortured, he made a name for himself at the Master's side, but sleeping with David was something he was utterly repulsed by. His face scrunched up in disgust and fear. Fear of what the Whirlwind would do to him if they found out he had been...interested in their boy.

"Jesus Christ David, why did you not say something sooner instead o letting me make an ass out of myself!"

"It was funny." The blond replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I needed a good laugh."

He was watching the group assembled at the bottom of the stairs, a couple young girls and their suitors. David licked his lips, and elbowed Max. "You aching to get your rocks off, I'd go for that busty blonde down there. Looks like if she moves her tits will pop out." He paused, "But since you're a little fruity I would assume you're not into that. The guy with her is handsome. Kinda brawny though. Bet he would be a decent lay though if you could get 'Im drunk enough-"

"David stop. Stop trying to set me up with humans." Something that David just said wasn't making much sense. Been alone since 1892...was he no longer speaking with his family. "So what is good old Angelus up to these days?"

"From what I heard, sucking rats in the gutter." David replied, a look of disgust crossing his face. "But before that I wouldn't know. I'm a solo agent now, traveling the world, enjoying the pleasures one man can."

Solo vampires never lasted longer than a couple of decades. They were more reckless, believed they were invincible, and left more evidence behind. David had been around long enough to know that what he was saying was just a blatant lie to both Max and himself.


Max's childer had no one to guide them when he wasn't around, no one to relate to, but if they had an older brother....

"Tell you what kid, how about I treat you to a nice meal, help you make that lovely young lady's acquaintance, and then we can discuss a venture of mine?"

1943 New York City, New York

A representative for the army stopped by the school for a mandatory assembly about the war efforts. They spoke to all of the classes, but addresses the older grades more directly. They knew that those students would be graduating soon and would be able to enlist and strengthen their numbers. Some students, like Dwayne, were given pamphlets on what to expect.

Before now Dwayne didn't think too much about his future. He tossed around a couple of ideas, about opening his own business or going o work in one of the mines in one of the nearby states. But being a soldier fighting against the Germans...that sure did sound noble. He'd be a hero. He'd have done something that made his life worth while.

The assembly ran long and it was dark when he finally left the school. He lived only a couple of blocks from the school building, ten minutes if he cut through the alley behind Donna's cafe. He had his nose buried deep within the documents that had been given to him, talking about benefits and shore leave and all of the places he'd visit.

"Interesting read there man?"

Dwayne looked up and saw a man leaning against a dumpster a couple feet ahead of him. The man was blond, handsome, and the picture of the ideal suburban boy. Every man's dream son.

"It's...decent enough." Dwayne replied, "You got family overseas?"

"I got family everywhere." The guy said with a shrug. "What about you? Why are you so interested in becoming one of the soldier boys? Fame, girls, money, you even have a choice?"

"Of course I have a choice...and I don't really know. Adventure I guess." Dwayne let out a bitter laugh. "Nothing interesting ever happens around here."

The blond smirked, "Doesn't have to be that way. My...father and I travel around the world, seeing all the sights and meeting the most beautiful and interesting people. We could always use another guy around to us company. What do you say? Adventure is waiting..."

Opportunity was out there. All he had to do was take the chance. Dwayne followed the other guy out of the alley, under the premise of meeting the guy's father and finding out all the details of this promised adventure.

He never did make it back home.

1969 Tulsa, Oklahoma

Luanne Simcox was the most beautiful, talented, special girl in the entire world. Okay, so Marko hadn't even left the state before but he was certain that there was no one better than her. They'd been going steady since she moved in with her grandma last summer. She had been new in town, and since her grandma was close friends with Marko's mother, he had ended up showing her around town. The only problem Marko could find with their relationship was that she was older. Just two years but it certainly made a couple heads turn when they were walking to the malt shop after school together or sitting in the park. Marko didn't care though. He was in love with her, he felt fine, and he was going to marry her once he was legally old enough.

She called him up a couple minutes after he got off the bus at his house, asking to meet with him at Randy Rhodes' party so they could talk about things, and Marko couldn't say yes fast enough. He wanted to talk about getting her a promise ring, so that way they could get married as quickly as possible. He had already swung the idea by his mother who was more than enthusiastic. Her little boy was growing up and soon he'd have a little boy of his own. As long as they stopped by every now and then to visit...

The Rhodes' property was only a couple of blocks from Marko's and it was a route the fifteen year old had walked plenty of times before. He left just before it got dark, wearing the new jacket he had made for himself, and whistled a tune while he walked. It was his and Luanne's song, a little ditty by the Beatles, Michelle. It was also his favorite song.

The party was already way underway when Marko showed up. Someone was blasting Rolling Stone records in the old barn on the far edge of the property, and even from the front Marko could see kids dancing away. A couple were lazing about on the front porch, nursing drinks and talking about the latest news. Mrs. Gotyke, who taught ninth grade math, had gotten pregnant with her fifth child from a fifth man, Liza Cornikie had run off to join the hippie movement in San Fransisco and had probably changed her name to Moonbeam already, Doctor Lincoln got caught having an affair with a nurse, all the local gossip. Marko offered the crew a friendly wave, but was more or less ignored. He didn't really fit in well in this town. There were greasers who paraded around in leather and stole from the corner stores, and socs who tried out for the sports teams and debate clubs and dated the prettiest girls, and then there were outsiders who didn't fall into either distinct category. Marko could have been a greaser if he hadn't been too flashy, too weird. Ever since he'd been little everyone was always talking about how strange he was. Everyone, that is, except for his mother and Luanne.

She came stumbling out of the house, crying and tugging at her skirt. A couple of the guys gathered on the porch took this as their sign to leave, while the others drank heavily and watched on in anticipation. Marko rush to her side and threw his arms around her.

"What did they do to you?!" He demanded. "Who hurt you! What did they do?!"

It took her a moment to stop crying long enough to get her words out in a way that Marko could actually understand. She sat him down on the front steps of the porch, and started spilling her little heart out. Luanne left her home city of Chicago for a reason. Her parents had been extra conservative, a religious lot if there had ever been any, and she had developed a reputation. She had drank, she had done drugs, she had partied, she had a list of lovers ten miles long. So naturally her folks took their leave of her and shipped her off. Unfortunately for Marko, her promiscuity didn't stop when she got to Tulsa.

"I'm pregnant." She told him, despite the fact the two of them had never gotten any further than grope fests in the backseat of her car. "My family is pushing me to become an honest woman. They want me to get married, but to the baby's father."

In other words not Marko. They had never cared much for Marko, aside from Luanne's sweetly grandma. She then started to go on and on about how they could still be friends, about how she would marry the man, but how her heart belonged to him. About how they could have a sexy affair like the ones in the books. Marko hit her. Just one good hard slap across the face. The succubus wouldn't stop. She'd be married but she would never stop the lifestyle she's grown accustomed too. He felt sorry for the poor child that slid from her womb.

She started screaming at him, hills ring nonsense and gibberish as tears flooded down her face ruining her make up. About how she loved Marko and he hurt her. Not as much as she hurt him though. That heart she claimed belonged to him didn't belong to anyone. The strange thing was, none of her poor attempts to inflict pain upon him even hurt. It was as if everything had become numb. He started walking away, towards the barn, with the intention of getting drunk and forgetting everything. Luanne followed him, still screaming, and in the moonlight Marko noticed she wasn't as beautiful as he once thought. He stopped, just outside the barn door, turned and said, "You look like the whore you really are." And went inside.

Those were the last words he would say to Luanne Simcox, but it would not be the last time he saw her.

Someone was playing Twist And Shout, and everyone was grinding and twisting around as a result. For once, Marko easily joined the crowd. He gyrated, rocked his hips, swung his ass around like a fucking fool, but it made him feel better. He looked up about halfway through the song and noticed someone he'd never seen before. A man, just a couple inches taller than Marko with a head full of platinum blond hair, was dancing with a girl. Their moves were incredibly sexual, he was holding her up off the straw floor and she was essentially rubbing her cunt against his crotch as he bucked up so they were bobbing together. They were both panting, sweating profusely, Marko had to check again to ensure they weren't actually having sex.

The man looked over at him, and Marko found himself staring into the most intense baby blue eyes he'd ever seen. The girl was dropped to the floor, she let out a loud compliant, and Marko found himself being pulled towards the strange man. No one was touching him, but it was if he had been dragged.

"Well, well, well," the man said, and looked up and down. "Nice jacket. What are those, rainbow nipple pasties sewn in there?"

Marko could feel the blood rush to his face and forced himself to stare down at his sneakers. "I-no...they're streamers. My little sister used to attach them to her bike..."

The man chuckled and reached out to play with them. Marko flinched but otherwise did not move. The stranger was so close to him, and he smelled nice. Like apples and blue clover. The blood was beginning to rush somewhere else...

"You made this then?" The man asked. "You a little tailor?"

"Yeah." His mother had taught him how to sew after his dad died as a way for them to connect. He made most of his own clothes, and had considered opening his own store after graduation at one point. Huh...he was beginning to see why the other kids considered him weird.

"Think you could do me a favor then? This coat is...special and it got torn a couple weeks back in a brawl. You patch it up nice and I'll make it worth your while."

This would be the first job Marko ever had. Could be what he needed to get his name out there, to get more work, and get something going that he would be happy with. He nodded, "Alright. Let me see."

The man slid his jacket off his shoulders and handed it over to Marko. Sure enough there was a large rip under the sleeve. Marko throw bed and examined the loose threads. "It looks like someone cut it with a knife," he stated. "Like it was in a struggle."

"A fight," The man corrected him. "It was a fight that got out of hand. Look can you fix it?"

"Easily." Marko replied, "It'll just take a couple of minutes. You want we can go into the house, I know Randy's mom has a needle and thread in almost every room." When you lived in a small town you learned everything about your neighbors. Everything except the supposed love of your life being a goddam whore it would seem.

"The sooner the better." The man walked past Marko, and didn't looked back over his shoulder to see if he would follow. He radiated confidence, he knew that whenever he asked, people would follow. He carried himself like a deity, like something people worshipped. Marko had never been able to fit into the mold of a follower until he met this man. This...creature (Marko didn't think the label of 'man' could apply to him) knew something the fifteen year old didn't and he had a feeling it could make all the distance. Marko found himself running to catch up.

"You didn't tell me your name." He stated. "I'd like to know the name of my clients." Hehe...he had a client. He'd have time to be giddy over that later.

The man didn't brake his stride. "David. Call me David."

David, like the king. "My name is Marko Broderick. So, uh, you new in town? I don't think I saw you around before..."

They were at the steps now, abandoned by the gossiping group from earlier, but the screen door to the house was still open. Everyone was either at the barn dancing or wandering the fields behind the house. Even the kitchen, normally packed with hungry teenagers scarfing down food, was empty. Luckily Marko was familiar enough with this home to know where he could find what he needed. Third door, beside the spoons. He fished it out and got to work patching the coat up while he waited for an answer.

"My family is new in town," David explained. "Just passing through. You'll meet Dwayne later. I think I saw him heading off with Randy and a couple of his boys back into the fields. We'll talk to him once you finish your job."

All business, Marko could respect that. Despite his attempts not to, Marko found himself humming while he sewed. Not Michelle though. This time it was an old lullaby his mother used to sing him to sleep with. Just an old Irish ditty, but when Marko looked up from his work, he saw that David recognized it. He was humming along as well, though nonchalantly. The song wasn't one that brought back good memories for David, it would seem.

"You Irish?"

"On my father's side." That was as far in detail as David wanted to go about that subject. "You?"

"Nah. My mom just liked their songs." Marko chuckled a bit to himself, and tied the end of the thread together to prevent it from unraveling in future fights or journeys through the laundry. "There ya are bud. Good as new. It's a nice jacket if I say so myself, hand made?"

This kid would just not stop bringing up his past would he? "Yes. By my aunt." He wanted this...uncomfortable topics to be expelled. Might as well loose the theatrics and get to the main point. "It's good craftsmanship here, Marko. High quality work. You definitely deserve the payment I promised."

"Well, I mean, it's not that special...any one could have done the job..."

"But you're not anyone. Not anymore."

Marko frowned, getting an odd feeling from that statement. "What do you mean? Of course I'm someon-"

"A piece of advice for the future there, Marko," David said and grabbed the youth by the shoulders. The boy gasped and writhed but couldn't free himself. No one ever could. He could only watch in terror as David's handsome face morphed into a twisted and demonic version of what it had been, and his eyes turned gold and hypnotic. Marko couldn't look away. He was lost in a trance. "Bright colors attract too much attention for both humans and vampires. Keep the jacket, but I'd try and dress a little darker."

Marko didn't scream out. David sunk his fangs into his shoulder, drained as much blood from him as he could without killing Marko, then slit his wrist and held it to the boy's mouth. Dazed, and still under David's influence, Marko was powerless to resist. He started to feed, to enjoy the tangy, metallic taste of David's blood while David loomed over him, watching with a smirk. Dwayne was great and all but he had been getting too independent lately. David needed someone to worship him, to carry out tasks if needed. David needed someone who could be as useful as he was bloodthirsty. That being said, it helped that Marko was a better looking guy.

That and David was find of the boy's jacket.

1987 Chicago, Illinois

Paul Simcox-Quinton left school shortly after second period began. It was his senior year, and like hell he was going to waste all this primo party time behind some desk learning why the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell! A buddy of his had gotten tickets to the Rolling Stones while they were in town, as well as some primo weed he scored from his trip down to Mexico City. They all piled into the back of Paul's beat up old car, and started driving down towards the concert area.

This was heaven for Paul. Good friends, good weed, good booze, good band. Just a perfect night where he didn't have to worry about his mother getting on his case, or anyone else bugging him. There were girls dancing around him, bopping their heads and twisting their hips. One came towards him, and grabbed his hands, and started forcing him to dance along with her. He could hear his buddies laughing, telling him to remember to use a condom, and other shit, but the pot was finally beginning to kick in and the world started to fade around him.

The three of them came from the back of the crowd, Paul spotted them out of the corner of his eye. A blond man dressed completely in black, was circling his group of friends, and he wasn't alone. A shorter blond with long curly hair, and wearing an incredibly flashy patchwork jacket was following close behind the bigger blond, grinning mischievously and reaching out to bat at one girl's ponytail. The last member of their trio was a tall, beefy Native boy with hair that stretched down past his shoulders and stopped in the middle of his back. He was dressed in darker colors, but no black. He laughed at the smallest one's attempt to annoy the girl, and patted his back.

"You have nice eyes."

Paul shook his head, and let go off the girl he'd been dancing with. His head was starting to hurt and he could have sworn he had heard...never mind. It had to have been a bad byproduct of the weed. He looked back over to where the trip had been and saw that they were now gone. He couldn't see them anywhere in the crowd.

"I used to date a girl with pretty eyes like old are you kid? Might be the baby that biker bitch stuck in her." It was the voice from before, saying stuff that wasn't really real.

"Marko, please. You know how we feel about you bringing her up." Another voice in Paul's head said. "Or bringing up anything from before."

"Fuck off David, I'm curious."

"Don't tell me to fuck off you whiney little-"

Great now there were voices arguing in Paul's head. He was really beginning to loose his goddamn mind. Paul shook his head again and decided to go get a drink of something that wouldn't make him want to throw up. They were selling bottles of water by the entrance, that would do.

He took a step forward and bumped into a living wall of biker Native American beefcake. He fell onto his ass, and found the guy from before staring down at him. The other two, the two blonds, stood behind him.

"Sorry man..." Paul mumbled and rubbed his forehead. "I'm going on a trip or somethin'..."

"Huh." The shorter blond said, and turned to the taller one. "You here that? I think our new friend here needs something to drink."

"You could be right there Marko but I'm not quite sure I have anything left to give him. Do you?"

"You're a dick."

"Not going to change the fact that I have nothing for our boy here to drink."

If looks could kill the shorter one would have reduced the taller one to a pile of dust by now. He rolled his eyes, and felt around in his jacket pocket for something. A few seconds later he produced a small bottle, like the kind used to sell alcohol on planes, containing a thick red liquid. He handed it to Paul, who looked it over with a scowl.

"What is it?" He asked.,

"Blood." The taller blond stated, which earned him a punch in the gut. "Hehe...alright, alright. It's just punch. Fruit juice."

Fruit juice? Why would they carry fruit juice in such tiny bottles...whatever. His throat felt like it was on fire and swelling up. He needed something to quell his growing thirst so he accepted the bottle and downed the whole thing in a second. It didn't sooth his thirst or make his aching throat hurt any less.
It intensified it.