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Take (What You Need)

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Connor shivered in the corner he'd curled himself into, the lack of blood starting to wear on him. His nerves felt raw, his limbs stiff. He'd need to feed soon or his body would shut down, put him in a dead like sleep until he was given blood again.

They'd stopped feeding him small rations of blood two days ago. Connor would be angry if he had the strength, given the reason why they'd done it. Connor looked to the other corner of the cell where Hank's sleeping form lie. They'd beaten and tortured him earlier in the day. Thrown him back in the cell with Connor, hoping the smell of fresh blood would tempt Connor. Would force him to kill the man he loved.

They'd underestimated how determined Connor could be. He'd gladly die before he hurt Hank. His failing body was a small price to pay if it meant Hank remained alive. Hank shifted in his sleep and groaned, his bruise and battered body protesting the movements.

"Connor," Hank painfully moaned.

"I'm here, Hank," Connor replied.

"I... I'm scared."

He rolled onto his side, groaning again as his bruised side and most likely broken ribs ached. He looked at Connor, as best he could through one swollen eye.

"I don't want to die here," he said.

"Oh Hank," Connor replied.

He'd cry if he could. Hank reached out a shaking hand in Connor's direction. Dried blood clung to his hand, rust colored and flaking.

"I can't," Connor said.

"I need you," Hank replied.

Connor nodded. He needed Hank too. It was a lot to risk, but entirely worth it, if it meant providing comfort to his lover. With what little strength he had, he dragged himself over to Hank, who curled into him once he was close enough. This close Connor could smell Hank's blood. The temptation to bite, to take, to feed just under the surface. Connor clung to his resolve, to his love for Hank, to keep from giving in.

"You could get out," Hank said, clinging to Connor.

"I'm not strong enough. Not without blood," Connor replied.

He ran his hands gently over Hank's back.

"Both of us don't have to die here," Hank said.

He shifted, wincing in pain, so he could look at Connor.

"You could get out, get away," he said.

Connor knew from the determined look in those piercing blue eyes what exactly Hank meant.

"I'm not leaving you here," Connor said, shaking his head.

"I'm giving you permission to. Please Connor."

Connor closed his eyes. The men who had kidnapped them, who were torturing them couldn't win. He wouldn't let them.

"I won't kill you," Connor said.

"Then only take what you need. Take enough to free us and then get me to safety."

Connor shook his head again. He was so hungry, he didn't know if he could stop himself once he started to feed.

"I trust you, Connor," Hank said.

Connor opened his eyes and looked at Hank. The trust reflected in those deep blue eyes warmed his undead heart.

"Okay," he said and nodded.

Connor moved the dirty, matted hair away from Hank's neck. There were bruises there too. It angered him. Those men had hurt Hank. They hadn't even wanted Hank. They'd been after Connor but when Hank had tried to fight them off, to save Connor, they'd taken him too. Connor knew what he had to do.

He gently kissed Hank's neck, ran his tongue over his pulse point before sinking his teeth in. The first gush of blood over his tongue tasted like heaven. He'd fed from Hank before, under extremely better circumstances. As he fed, as strength slowly began to return to him, Connor could focus in, could hear Hank's heartbeat. Despite how hungry he'd been, how desperate his body had been, he found it was a lot easier than he'd thought to stop once he'd had enough.

He eased off Hank's neck.

"I'll be right back," he said, gently kissing Hank's cheek.

Hank nodded. Between the beating he'd been subjected to and the blood loss, he was too weak to do more than listen to Connor. That was for the best. He wouldn't like what Connor was about to do. He stood and went up to the cell bars, using his renewed strength to bend two of them enough for him to squeeze out of. He focused in again, using his heightened senses to find their captors.

They were in a room farther back, away from the cells. Idiots hadn't even thought to use a security system to keep an eye on their prisoners. Killing them would be a kindness. And kill them Connor did. He used his super speed to sneak up behind each of the five men and snap their necks. If Hank hadn't been waiting for him, he would've made it last longer, tortured them the way they'd tortured Hank.

Once they were dead, Connor returned to Hank. He scooped his lover into his arms and sped them out of bunker they'd been kept in. He was surprised to find they were still in Detroit. With lightning speed, he rushed Hank to the hospital. Once Hank was in the hands of the doctors and nurses, he left again. There'd be questions and he didn't know how to answer them. Not yet. He needed help.

He stopped at home and found it empty. A note was left on the kitchen table.

'Sumo is with me. Please call me when you get this. Cain.'

Hank would be glad that his dog was okay. Connor was glad too. He cleaned himself and changed clothes. He also packed a bag of clean clothes for Hank. Once he'd been patched up, he'd want to come home as soon as possible. Then Connor headed to his brother's house. Didn't even bother to knock, merely let himself in. Sumo was curled up on the floor, looking oddly out of place in Cain's minimalistic and impeccably clean apartment.

"Jesus Christ, Connor!" Cain exclaimed. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Hank and I were kidnapped."


Connor filled his brother in, told him about the so called 'Hunters' who'd take them and tortured them. Once Cain was satisfied that they were dead and that Hank was alright, he grabbed his brother and hugged him.

"I was so worried. It's not like you to just disappear. Especially without Sumo," he said.

"Thank you for taking care of him."

"Of course. What can I do to help?"

"You still friends with that detective?"

Cain frowned. That told Connor what he needed to know. Reed could be a... difficult man to deal with, but he'd help them. He had a soft spot for Cain and had so far managed to help keep their secret. He could help cover up what had happened so that Hank could come home without any fuss.

Cain made the call and Reed agreed to meet them at the hospital. Hank had been stitched and bandaged up. He was resting in a private room while being given a blood transfusion from the blood he'd lost. Connor and Reed convinced the doctors that Hank had been in an accident and left to die in the woods.

Two days later, Hank was allowed to go home. Cain and Sumo were waiting for them. Connor smiled as he watched Hank ease himself onto the couch before patting the cushion next to him so Sumo could jump up and give him slobbery kisses.

"Yeah, I'm okay, you big lump," Hank said, ruffling Sumo's fur.

Cain smiled at his brother. "Be safe. Please."

"Of course. And thank you," Connor replied.

Cain nodded. He'd agreed to go on a date with Reed, since the detective had needed help covering up the bunker and the five dead men. After Cain left, Connor sat down on the couch with Hank, putting his arms around him.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," Hank replied.

Connor kissed him, deep and passionate, but still mindful of his healing injuries. He was just glad Hank was still there to kiss and love.