Chapter Text
“Patton, please. You need to eat.” The words were soft, concerned, but he simply shrunk back against the wall, shaking his head frantically.
They were right. The hunger snaked through his stomach, clouded his mind, it was a physical ache that echoed through his marrow, pounding in his head with a steady thrum, whispering food, food, feed.
It would be so easy. He was right there, he could lunge and then warmth would coat his throat, he could drink and drink until he was drowsy from being stuffed full, blessedly full.
He shook his head with a sharp breath, pressing himself further back, trembling. He was light headed, bright spots of color dancing across his vision, and he squeezed his fingers tighter against his arms, digging them into his skin. He couldn’t risk hurting them, he couldn’t take that chance, he couldn’t control the hunger gnawing away inside his chest, hollowing him out until he couldn’t think straight.
“You have gone too long without feeding, and I understand that recently after turning is the most delicate and dangerous time for a new vampire. Not eating now could very easily lead to starvation.” A different voice, concern clear in the timbre of his facts.
“Good.” Patton blurted, the first word he’d spoken in more than two days. He could feel the stunned silence from his companions, hoped they’d just go away. He could smell the too sweet scent of their blood, could hear it pounding through their veins, and it took everything in him not to bare his newly grown fangs.
“Virgil wants to see you.” Roman said after a too long pause, and for once Patton’s eyes darted up, focusing on Roman's face. "He’s worried about you." Patton swallowed dryly, eyes flicking between the two men.
“How is… how is he?” he asked. He’d been so absorbed in himself, he’d almost forgotten. The struggle, flailing of limbs, a searing pain in his neck, flooding through his veins, fear making his heart beat loud in his ears.
Then a blur of purple, a furious, wordless shout, and Patton was let go, sliding down the wall he’d been pinned against with a gasp. He heard the sounds of a struggle, of flesh against flesh, snarls and growls and hisses of pain. Then soft brown eyes looking into his, blood dripping into one eye from a gash on his forehead, one arm twisted oddly, words he couldn’t comprehend falling from his lips.
Roman and Logan exchanged a glance, making Patton's heart speed.
“What? What is it?” he asked, a bit frantic.
“He'll be alright. But it might… take a while. His injuries were far from superficial." Logan replied, and Patton's hands fluttered nervously. If he really was going to starve himself to death, he at least owed a goodbye to Virgil.
“He stayed with you, y’know. While you… changed. He wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let Logan look at him, until he was sure you weren’t going to die from it.” Patton shivered, vaguely remembering the feeling of heat flooding his veins, burning through him as the venom spread, as it burned the human out of him, leaving emptiness behind.
But he remembered murmurs, hands running through his hair, a damp cloth on his forehead, the low cadence of Virgil’s voice, arguing with someone. Probably Logan. He bit his lip.
“ok" he whispered softly, slowly getting to his feet, leaning against the wall as his head swam.
“Ok?” Roman asked, surprised. This was more of a reaction than they’d gotten in days from Patton. It was both exciting and worrying. Patton was the most effusive of the four of them. The fact that he was so subdued now was almost terrifying.
“I'll… I wanna see Virg. If that’s ok.”
“Of course it is ok, Patton. He’s in the living room at the moment. Do you require assistance getting there?” Logan asked, his voice low, a smidge too even to be natural. Patton shook his head again, regretting it as dizziness crested over him.
Logan stepped back, out of the doorway, hands carefully clasped behind his back. Roman followed his lead, though he looked pained at being unable to reach out.
God, how Patton wanted a hug, a comforting touch on the shoulder, a playful ruffle of his hair, but he could hear their blood pounding from here, was afraid instinct would take over on contact, was afraid of what he’d do if he could physically feel their pulse.
So he slipped past them, managing to keep his footing as he made his way down the hall that contained their bedrooms, pausing in the doorway that led to the living room, a small noise of distress escaping his throat.
Virgil was sitting on the couch, leg elevated on a foot rest before him, an ice pack on top of a splinted leg. The opposite arm was in a sling, bound with expert care against his chest. He could see bandages poking out from under his sweater around his left hand, a patch of gauze taped above his eye. There was a dark, angry bruise around his left eye, not to mention he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, face even more drawn than usual. His gaze snapped to Patton at his small squeak, eyes widening, a small, relieved half smile playing across his face as hope sparked to life in his eyes.
“Heya.” He did his little two finger salute, and Patton couldn’t help himself anymore. He launched himself across the room, landing nearly on top of Virgil, burying his face against his hoodie, clinging onto it, letting out the sob building in his chest. He didn’t hear Virgil’s pained hiss or the shock of pain that flashed across his face at the impact.
“I’m sorry, you… you're all beat up and it’s my fault for being so stupid, and, and I…” he hiccupped, unable to keep going, to keep talking with how hard he was crying, leaving him more light headed than he’d already been as he gasped in air. He felt Virgil’s one arm wrap around his shoulders, felt him rest his chin against Patton’s shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath as he held Patton as tightly as he could, ignoring the sharp stinging ache from his chest that meant his cracked ribs were pissed, the bruises that covered his torso that Patton was pushing on, squeezing him tight. It didn’t matter.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I’m ok. I should have called for back up as soon as I saw, but I just… I saw you and I couldn’t… I couldn’t let them take you. I wanted to be there, when you woke up, but Logan wouldn’t let me, said I needed to get looked at too. Probably right, but still.” Patton sniffled pulling away, across the couch, too aware of Virgil’s heart beat when practically laying on top of him, not to mention the sharp inhales that gave away Virgil’s pain.
“But… but they did. I’m…turned.” Patton almost whispered, surprised at the vehement shake of Virgil’s head, the ferocity that flared to life in his eyes.
“No. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter that you got turned. You’re still you, Pat, still yourself. Still… still here. Not in some vampire den being brainwashed until all your memories are gone, not lying in some alley…” He paused, running a hand through his hair, sagging back against the couch. “I was so scared. I saw you pinned, saw the fangs and I just… I lost it. I got so wildly furious. Because I thought… I thought they’d killed my best friend.” Virgil's voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain the memory of panicked, rage infused anguish as he pummeled vamp after vamp, barely noticing their extra ordinary strength, how their hits cracked bone, their nails clawed through his clothes.
He bared his own teeth in a feral grimace, hissing and spitting and dodging and stabbing at anything within reach with his daggers until he lost them in the melee. That didn’t stop him, pummeling anything in his path with his fists until he heard the other’s shouts, their pounding steps.
“If you think you can take all three of us, be my guest.” He spat, as they all paused at the noise. They looked over him closely, appraisingly, bruised and bloody, arm broken, leg snapped, burning eyes refusing to look down, face twisted in a snarl that even they couldn’t match with all their fangs, still ready to and willing to brawl despite his bruised and swollen knuckles. A moment passed, seemingly endless. Then, as one, they turned and fled.
As soon as they were out of sight he fell to his knees beside Patton, nearly collapsing when he saw Patton’s eyes on him, still seeing, still alive, still there, barely aware as Logan and Roman skidded to a halt beside him, half delirious himself as the adrenaline washed away, but refusing to let go of Patton.
He snaps himself back to the present, shaking his head.
“we both know vampires aren’t inherently bad. Not all of them are dangerous, most of them aren’t, actually. It’s only ones that are cruel or power hungry or twisted as humans to begin with, or the ones who didn’t have anyone or anything to hold onto, who’ve gone feral. You’re none of those things, Pat. You’re the farthest from any of those things I’ve ever seen! You’re afraid, and that’s… that’s ok. That’s normal. But you don’t have to be. You’re not a monster, or some dangerous creature, you’re just… a human with weird dietary needs.” That earned a stifled laugh from Patton, a smile flicking across Virgil’s face in response. “it’ll be ok. But I need… I need you to feed, I need you to not give up i… I need you, pat. I can’t… I can’t lose any of my family.” The words were strained, and Patton could see his breathing start to falter, the panic overwhelming him, and without thinking, he reached out, firmly squeezing Virgil’s hand, kneeling on the couch beside him, grounding him as he counted, until Virgil calmed.
Patton’s heart ached at seeing one of his “kiddos”, as he refered to his friends, his team, so afraid, so overwhelmingly scared, and it hurt knowing he was the cause.
“What if I hurt you? What if I lose control and hurt all of you? What if I don’t remember my own strength and we’re sparring and I punch you through a wall?” Virgil snorted at that last one, imagining Roman’s indignant face looking up from a heap of plywood, dust staining his usually immaculate white and red letterman’s jacket.
“Virgil, I’m serious!” Patton protested, lightly swatting at Virgil, and Virgil’s smile faded from his lips, but the warmth in his eyes was overwhelming.
“You didn’t hurt me just then. In the five days you’ve been a vampire, well, three if we’re counting when you were conscious, you spent them hiding away because you were afraid of hurting anyone. You’re starving yourself because you’re afraid of hurting anyone. That doesn’t sound like someone who would lose control. That sounds like someone who is right now excersising the strictest self discipline I’ve ever seen. Even when you were delirious and feverish you never once lashed out. You’re not going to hurt anyone, Pat. Especially not one of us.” Virgil answered, refusing to back down, to let Patton challenge his words. He pulled up his sleeve with his teeth, making a face at the taste of the fabric, then held out his wrist, palm up.
Patton stilled, fear and panic and longing and desperate need sweeping through him. His eyes found Virgil’s, who quirked his brow, that small smile back on his lips.
“I trust you, Pat.” He said, lowly, sincerity written across every line of his face. Patton took a shaky breath then nodded, hesitantly supporting Virgil’s arm, carefully sinking his fangs into the soft skin.
His eyes widened in surprise at the taste. He’d expected it to be coppery and slimy, for disgust to well up in him and for him to be unable to continue. Instead, it was tangy and sweet, almost like a mix of raspberries and citrus. He kept an eye on Virgil the whole time, making sure it wasn’t causing him any harm or pain, making sure he wasn’t taking too much. After a long moment he pulled away, cringing at what he’d just done, hating himself for it, feeling slightly ill and disgusted. Virgil caught the expression, and grabbed hold of his hand before he could retreat again.
“Don’t you dare be ashamed of yourself. We’ve set up a schedule already, of blood drawing from each of us, so there’ll be blood in the fridge for you when you need it. Figured it might be less awkward than this.” Virgil said, gesturing between the two of them. “You won’t need to eat as often as you did before, so that helps. And if you bad talk or bad think yourself I will physically fight you.” Patton let out a giggle at that, an echo of a statement he’d said to Virgil more times than he could count. He sighed, then curled tight against Virgil, surprising him, but after a moment Virgil nestled close, wrapping his arm around Patton’s shoulders.
“I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know…” He trailed off, feeling Virgil rub his shoulder soothingly.
“One day at a time, Pat. We can do it one day at a time. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. It’ll be alright. I promise.” Virgil murmured, head resting atop Patton’s.
His eyes met Roman’s and Logan’s, who had stayed hovering in the doorway, watching and listening, but giving Patton his space.
Logan’s shoulders were slumped in relief, the disruption of his usually perfect posture enough to reveal how worried sick he’d really been. Roman was beaming, relief written across his face, he was always an open book. Virgil smiled back, letting out a long breath.
“can I… can I sit with you, for a while?” Patton asked, voice small, and Virgil chuckled.
“Of course, Pat. As long as you like.” He murmured, knowing Patton needed the reassurance and rest just as much as he himself did, knowing both of them had been too twisted up inside to get the rest they needed. Now that Patton had eaten, wasn’t going to die, he felt something in his own stomach unknot, tiredness pouring through him.
“Virg? Thank you. F-for everything.”
“Always, dadio.” Virgil smiled as he watched Patton drift off to sleep, raising an eyebrow at Logan and Roman, who quietly made their way across the room.
“Good work, Edge Lord.” Roman quipped. Virgil stuck out his tongue in response, smile genuine.
“All in a day’s work.” He replied. He leaned back against the couch as a spasm of pain rocketed through his chest, breath catching in his throat at the shock of it, like a bucket of cold water waking him up out of a dead sleep. It took a moment to put his composure back together, to assume his usual façade.
“Virgil. Are you alright?” He had to roll his eyes at that question, coming from Logan of all people.
“Yeah, I just nearly got beat to death by a pack of half feral vampires, but I’m fine. Definitly not sore or anything.” He replied sarcastically. It took Logan a moment to register the tone, and once he did he sighed.
“I meant, are you any worse? Any new symptoms or pains I should be aware of?” Virgil softened, head lolling back against the couch cushion, staring up at the ceiling as he categorized his aches and pains. All present and accounted for. Oddly, the broken limbs hurt the least, now that they were set and bound up. Getting them in that position was a bitch, though. He shook his head, focusing on the present.
“Sorry. That was… rude. No, nothing new, nothing any worse, really, just got a little aggravated from the love tackle I got from the koala here.” He replied, tipping his heard towards Patton. Roman gave a small laugh, and he knew Logan was adjusting his glasses. “Just the ribs. Not much you can do about those, anyway.” He finished absent mindedly, tracing the pattern of some stain on the ceiling with his eyes.
“You need rest, too, Virg. A good lot of it.” Roman answered, uncharacteristically reserved. Virgil nodded.
“Yeah. Nap sounds good right about now.” He murmured, barely aware of his eyes drifting shut. He heard a low laugh, and felt something warm be tucked around him and Patton, a soft tune being hummed nearby, as he drifted off.