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What Killed The Cat

Chapter Text

The boy was still looking at him as Lestat drove them back to Louis's burned down estate. He didn't seem particularly excited over the prospect of being turned, which Lestat would have expected. He'd listened to the boy and Louis talk (he'd been following Louis for weeks now), and had heard the boy request immortality. It seemed that Louis's near-attack of him had had a rather strong effect on this child.

He truly was a child, Lestat mused as he brought the car to a stop. There was an innocent and charming look in his eyes as he watched Lestat, a fear that came from someone who did not realize that death was not nearly the worst thing that could be inflicted on him. Louis had realized, Louis had known. Even as a human, Louis knew not to idolize living.

But not this one. This one had not suffered the way Louis had suffered before Lestat had found him. The boy was as pure as snow.

Lestat grinned to himself as he slipped out of the car. Louis hadn't fed from the boy, he'd left him, afraid but unharmed. Lestat, who knew Louis so well, knew that the pureness was the reason that he hadn't killed or fed from him. He saw the pureness and beauty and wanted it to stay like that. Untouched by the inky black they tainted the world with.

He would not allow Lestat to stain this boy without a fight. He would follow him after the boy ran out of the room, would follow Lestat as he took him. Claudia had kept Louis by his side for decades, but it had not lasted. He never should have turned that child; he should have allowed her to die. But this boy wasn't a child, he wouldn't be trapped in the body of one as he grew. Still, he was not grown, not truly, he was innocent and young enough to need protection. Louis did well when he had someone to protect.

"We've arrived," Lestat said cheerfully, opening the door to raise the boy into his arms. He leaned the raven head on his shoulder and scented his throat. He smelled wonderful; it was a shame he would only be able to drink from him once. "You still have quite a bit of blood in you, little boy. Don't worry, I'll only drain the rest when Lestat comes close."

The boy groaned, eyes fluttering nearly closed. His hands were shaking slightly, and he was breathing unevenly. He wasn't dying, yet, but he certainly would in a few hours if he did not receive any blood transfusion. Or, alternatively, there was still quite a bit of blood inside of him that could make for a wonderful meal.

"Are…you…goin'…to…. kill-"

"Hush, child," Lestat hummed, combing his fingers through the black hair, feeling the living pulse pounding under him. "You will not end up dead if you do not choose to. Well, if you and Louis choose."

He settled down on the chair where he'd sat when Louis had found him, drawing the boy into his lap, and smiled down at him, "You know about Claudia, yes?"

The boy blinked up at him, and then carefully nodded.

"Louis told you how she was turned, yes? How he drained her, and I gave her blood to bring her back?" Lestat cradled the boy's head, his boy's head, he must start to think of him, and caressed his ear with one finger. "We'll do it the other way around this time. I drained you, Louis will give you his blood-"

He stopped talking, tilting his head slightly, and he grinned.

"Come on then, Louis," He called out, feeling the boy in his arms stiffen slightly. At least as much as he could while so weak. "We're waiting for you."

He could sense Louis's fear, nearly smell it, as his former lover walked carefully into the room. His beautiful green eyes flickered down to the boy, and stayed there, widening slightly.

"Welcome, Louis," Lestat said, carding his fingers through the boy's hair as the child tried to move towards Louis, keeping him in place. "I thought I might have to wait for rather longer. You've followed the boy rather closely, haven't you?"

"Lestat…" Louis whispered, taking a few steps forward, still looking only at the boy. Lestat tightened his hold on the black-haired child, making the boy let out a small chocked out whimper and Louis freeze in place. He raised his hands in a peace-offering gesture. "Please, don't-"

"I have no intention of hurting the child," Lestat replied. "What happens to him now is in your hands."

"You drank from him," Louis started walking over again, carefully. "Give him to me, please, he needs blood, we must get him to a hospital."

Lestat snorted, opening his mouth to expose his fangs, "Or perhaps you'd rather I drain him fully? He had asked for it, hasn't he?"

"He is a child," Louis begged. "He does not know what he's asking for."

"He knows more then you ever did, doesn’t he?" Lestat mused, leaning his face down next to the boy's still-pulsing neck. "And he has made his choice. You should respect it, and give him what he wishes for."

"Please," Louis was pleading desperately now. "Please, I-I will return to you, we will be as we once were. Please, just let the boy go, let him go-"

"No," Lestat replied, wrapping his arm around the boy's waist to keep him in place as he tried to get away, as ineffective as that attempt was. "I don’t think I will do that. You see, Louis, I can't trust you to stay with me."

"You tried this, once," Louis tried a different tactic. "Claudia merely drove a wedge between us. This will not give you what you wish for."

"No, you are right," Lestat touched the white throat with his fangs. "It did not work. She never should have been one of us, a child and a female. But this one…this one will be our son, and he will keep you by my side forever."

And then he latched his fangs into the soft skin and began drinking.

"No!" Louis screamed, rushing forward and falling to his knees. But he hovered over the two of them, knowing that there was nothing he could do now. Trying to detach Lestat from the boy would only tear at his skin, bringing a quicker death. So he waited, placing his hand on the boy's head, pressing their foreheads together, whispering, "I'm sorry. Forgive me."

"You have no cause to seek forgiveness," Lestat said, licking his lips as he pulled away from the boy's neck. He could hear the boy's heart, slow and nearly gone now, under his hand. "He asked for the turn, hadn't he? Come now, we'll turn our son together. Give him your blood."

But Louis simply looked down at the boy, and whispered, "Do you wish to be turned?"

They looked at one another for a moment, Lestat watching them both intently, and then the boy, with the last of his strength, shook his head.

Lestat clenched his teeth in frustration.

"Then I will not," Louis whispered, caressing the boy's sweat-filled hair out of his forehead. He looked up at Lestat, defiance in his eyes. "I will not turn him."

"Then you allow him to die," Lestat said with finality, and pulled the boy so he was leaning against his chest, moving him away from Louis. But Louis followed so he was nearly sitting in Lestat's lap. "Watch him die, then."

The boy was taking his last breathes, Lestat and Louis could both tell- a few more moments and he would be dead, and the chance would be lost. The boy would be dead and Louis could add another burden to the many he forced himself to bare (oh Louis, so dramatic).

"There," Lestat whispered, leaning his chin on the boy's shoulder. "He will die. Will you bury him, cradle his body until it crumbles to dust and cry over it-?"

And then Louis screamed, a horrific sound of pain and desperation, and cut his wrist. Lestat watched, excitement and lust growing in him, as he placed the bleeding wrist to their boy's lips. But the boy, in his last act as a living man, pursed his lips together and refused to open them.

"Open," Louis whispered, begged, but the boy would not, and Louis was forced to turn to his creator. There was a look of pure desperation in his eyes, and Lestat knew that he could not bring himself to force the boy to inject the blood, but could not bring himself to watch him die, either. So in his desperation he turned, cowardly, to Lestat, begging him to do the deed he could not complete. It was quite pleasant to see that there were still things that Louis needed from Lestat.

"Here," Lestat said softly, and grabbed the boy's jaw, forcing his mouth open. The boy made a soft sound of protect, but he had no strength left in him to fight, and the blood drizzled down into him, one drop at a time. Then the boy's eyes flew open and he grabbed Louis's wrist, pulling it to his lips, and began drinking with vigor. Lestat laughed, watching the pain growing in Louis's eyes. It was painful, wasn't it?

He could tell that it would be hard for Louis to force the boy to release his wrist. So he grabbed the back of the boy's neck and shook him hard, forcing him to do so. The boy growled in protest, grabbing the air with his hands in an attempt to get the bleeding appendix back. Lestat smiled and caressed the boy, whispering soft endearments to him, telling him it was all well, that he was safe and would be reborn soon. The boy thrust in his arms, the pain in his eyes growing.

"Give him to me," Louis pleaded, raising his hands for the child as he groaned, convulsing in Lestat's arms while his body changed. "Please."

"Very well," Lestat said generously, but found that he was reluctant to part with the boy in his arms. The boy was warm, and fit into Lestat's hold so perfectly. It was as if he'd been made specially for Lestat. Why should he let go of him, then? The boy should be in his arms forever.

But Louis's pleading eyes caused him to sigh and hand the body over. It wouldn't hurt to sometimes give Louis what he wanted; it would help keeping him by his side. Not that he would need to work hard on that, now that they had the boy.

Louis grabbed the body from Lestat, slipping into the floor and holding it in his arms tightly, his eyes glistening with tears, while the boy changed. He was beautiful as he spoke to the child, his eyes wide with anguish, hair tumbling down his shoulder, voice pleading, "It's all right, it will be over soon, it's all right-"

The boy gasped, and Lestat sat up, watching as their boy's eyes opened. They had been dark brown before the transformation, but now they were a brilliant, beautiful amber. Being a vampire suited him.

The boy's eyes widened as he looked around, and Lestat smirked. He always enjoyed seeing the first moments of the unlife of a vampire. The wonder as they took in the world anew, the realization that they had never before seen anything quite the way it truly was.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lestat murmured, watching the child stumble to his feet, wondering to the window to look out of it. "You were right to want this life, were you not?"

The boy shivered slightly, and glared angrily at Lestat. Lestat remembered that look, it had been sent his way quite often while they lived with Claudia, and it meant that he had said something to their child that Louis vehemently disapproved of.

"I told you," The boy said, his voice full of the same wonder as his eyes, his voice drawing Louis's gaze away. "I told you no."

Louis stiffened, turning back to Lestat with wide eyes, as if hoping for his help. But Lestat merely smirked and raised his hands. It had been Louis's decision to turn the boy, he would deal with the consequences.

"I'm sorry," Louis replied, and Lestat rolled his eyes. Well, that was one way of dealing with the situation. "I should have allowed you to die-"

"Why are you telling him that?" Lestat smirked, standing up. "What a ridiculous thing to tell him, that he should have died. Look at the world now, look at how beautiful it is! Is death truly better than this beauty?"

"I…" The boy blinked, turning away from the window and towards Lestat. He was confused, Lestat could see, the beauty was washing over him, all the ugliness of the world hadn't yet hit him. "I-"

"What's your name?" Lestat asked. "Or should we choose a name for you?"

"Like you did for Claudia?" The boy sneered. "I'm not a fucking toy."

"Of course not," Lestat waved his hand in dismissal. "You are our son, and don’t parents name their sons-?"

"My name is Daniel," The boy's voice sounded pained. "It's Daniel."

"Daniel," Louis whispered, voice full of soft wonder. He wanted this child for his own, he needed him. He had followed Daniel, given him an interview, told his story. He hadn't done it to spread the truth about their kind, he'd done it for this, for a new companion, for a child to watch over. Daniel had been right about that.

Smart boy.

"The sun will be coming up, soon," Lestat interrupted Louis's hypnotic wonder. He walked over to Daniel (Daniel, the name suited him. It did not sit well with Lestat, that he and Louis would not name him, but if he had to have a name not given by them-Daniel was one Lestat could live with) and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, pulling him away from the window. "Come, Louis, we must put him to bed."

"Are there…are there coffins left here?" Louis asked, seemingly finding it hard to believe that coffins had survived the years.

"Only two," Lestat replied. "He'll have to sleep with me-"

"No," Both Daniel and Louis snapped, Louis sounding enraged and Daniel sounding rather horrified.

"He'll share a coffin with me," Louis added, grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him away from Lestat. Lestat sneered, feeling the loss as Daniel was taken from his grasp.

"Don't think you can take him away," Lestat told Louis softly, warningly. "I will come after you. Wherever you go, I will follow you, I will find you. Daniel is not yours to keep alone."

He belongs to the two of us, Lestat added in his mind as Louis tightened his hold on Daniel and pulled him away. As he was taken away, the boy watched Lestat. It was a bit like how a deer watches a lion approaching, only Lestat rather doubted any lion before him had thought that the deer may be smart enough to actually escape him.

Daniel wouldn't be able to, but Lestat was sure the chase would be rather thrilling.