Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

1985
Daniel relaxed into Armand’s lap. He felt ill despite the immortal blood pressed to his mouth. Another overdose. Syringes were still strewn across the mattress. Two months passed since the last time he saw Armand. Malaise and emptiness sunk in fast. He’d sought out some uppers and found a dealer. A shitty one that got high on his own supply, sometimes with Daniel. It was probably dumb to let a man high off his ass decide how much shit was getting injected into his bloodstream. But it was hard to care when he was on his own.

Armand had killed his dealer. Daniel wasn’t sure if he’d called out to him or not. He should have, it was too close of a call. But he’d been too far gone to think. He wasn’t even coherent enough to see Armand kill the man. At least this meant Armand was still keeping an eye on him. Of course he was. Silly vampire. Armand should know that he didn’t have to wait for Daniel to call him. He could drag Daniel away kicking and screaming, and still be loved.

The body was slumped in the corner, bleeding so goddamn much that it would start dripping through the floorboards. How would he explain that to his landlord? Daniel groaned. Cold hands pressed against his forehead.

“What have you done?” Armand whispered.

Daniel closed his eyes. “Didn’t mean to. Promise.”

“Yet it keeps happening.” Armand withdrew his hands. He didn’t return them, even when Daniel whimpered and whined. Unfair. “What if I’m too far? What if I can’t save you the next time you run away and hurt yourself?”

“Didn’t hurt myself.” Daniel gestured at the dead man then closed his eyes. “That fucker gave me too much.”

“Don’t be pedantic. You choose to run away. And every time you get hurt.” Armand trailed his claws over Daniel’s eyelids. “You think there’s only one way this ends.”

“I know it,” Daniel muttered. “I can’t fucking think, can I have more?”

He got no warning before Armand pressed a wrist to his lips. Daniel clamped down on the wound, prying it open deeper and running his tongue along the wiry tendons. Such delightful gore, such beautiful insides. All too soon, Armand shoved him back down. “That’s enough.”

Well, at least his mind cleared a bit. The ache in his body too. He opened his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” Armand was staring at the opposite wall. “I could never be mad at you.”

“So what? You’re just disappointed?” Daniel poked Armand’s stomach when he didn’t react. All it did was make Armand frown. This was… weird. It’s not like he expected Armand to be happy with his predicament. But there was usually a lot more worry and care. “Is something wrong?”

Armand looked down at him, face blank. He went back to carding his fingers through Daniel’s hair. “You’re wrong.”

“Huh?” Daniel tried to sit up, but Armand yanked him back down. He struggled a bit, but his strength was nothing next to Armand’s.

“You think this can only end one way. You’re wrong.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Daniel tried to roll off the bed, but Armand caught his legs. “You’re gonna turn me whether you like it or not. As if you’d let me die. As if I’d let that happen. Fuck off. Let me go, you’re being weird.”

“I will.” Armand ran a hand down Daniel’s chest. “Rest, beloved. All will be well when you wake.”

Daniel felt the pull of the command, the heavy weight of a blanket falling over his mind. He kicked it away, reeling at the effort. “No. What the hell are you trying to do?”

“Shh, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” Armand’s eyes were bright orange, red tears pooling at the edges. “Just rest.”

Daniel struggled again. “I don’t wanna. Let me go.”

Armand’s grip tightened. Daniel wrenched an arm back, twisting so violently that if Armand attempted to restrain him, he’d dislocate a shoulder. Armand’s hands left him quickly and Daniel rolled out the bed. Fucking sap. Couldn’t even hurt Daniel and still thought he could pull whatever stunt this was. Daniel sprinted unevenly across the room. He tried to collect himself. Armand had planted a desire to rest in him and it took every bit of his focus to fight it. But he could. He’d done it before and he’d do it again. Armand’s mind gift worked best when his victim wanted it, deep down. Daniel wouldn’t be his victim.

“Daniel.” Armand appeared in front of him. He hurried to the kitchen, putting the table between them. “Are you scared?”

“Should I be?” Daniel countered. “What are you trying to do? Why are you saying all that weird shit?”

“You should never fear me. Everything I do is for you.” Armand softened at the edges. Angelic and human-like. As if that was gonna work on Daniel of all people. “Come back to bed. We’ll rest together.”

“Liar.” Daniel braced himself to run again. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Armand straightened up, becoming his beautiful monster again. A tear escaped down his cheek. “This will be easier if you don’t resist. I don’t want to hurt you or your precious mind. Please.”

Dread hit him like a tidal wave. He wasn’t scared of getting hurt, not physically. It was the anguish in Armand’s face, the bloody tears coming down in rivulets, that scared him. Fuck. He should have seen this coming. Armand was breaking apart in front of him, puppeting around his centuries old corpse as he sobbed. Daniel knew what this was now. His worst nightmare made reality.

“Are you trying to leave me?”

Panic rang in his ears. Armand wasn’t saying anything. Why the hell wasn’t he saying anything?

“Daniel, please come here.” Armand held out a hand.

“No. You can’t. I won’t let you.” Daniel ran towards the front door, flinging it open. He only made it a few steps before Armand’s arms wrapped around him . He lashed out, struggling for his life because without Armand, he wouldn’t have one. “Don’t do it. Please, Armand. I’m begging you not to do whatever shit you’re trying to pull.”

“I have to,” Armand whispered. “Look at what you do to yourself. All because of me. Look what I reduce you to.”

“Reduce? No.” Daniel thrashed, kicking out his legs. He dug his nails into Armand’s skin. Useless. His stupid, mortal body would fail him. “You make all this worth it. I never saw a point before. You’re the point. You can’t take it away. I’m yours.”

Armand pulled him back into the apartment. “Rest, beloved. All this roiling emotion, all this pain. I can make it go away.”

“I want the pain!” Daniel shouted. He tried to fight, but Armand kept whispering the honey-sweet enchantments. Coaxing him to rest. His body was so tired, so weak. He couldn’t fight a vampire. Not like this. He only ever won battles of wit, but his mind was reeling, slow and strange in a semi-swoon. Why was he fighting so hard? Wouldn’t it be better to give himself a break? That was the point of shooting up, wasn’t it? A rest from the bustling world outside. And rest was just there, all he had to do was step forward and—

Fuck. Daniel lost all feeling in his body. His consciousness was suspended in the air, forced to watch Armand lay his limp form on the bed. Armand lifted Daniel to rest in his lap again. This was death. Not turning or his body expiring. This, the stark betrayal, was death. Daniel screamed, but his body was out of reach. No. Unacceptable. This couldn’t be the end.

He felt for the corners of his consciousness, the edges of his sanity, and finally the veil Armand had slipped over him. He grabbed it and yanked. The scene dissolved into a whirlpool, dragging him down with it. Nausea took over as he was thrown around in the tempest. Then, everything went still.

Night Island appeared. Their villa, their bedroom. Soft and familiar and lovely. He could almost get lost in the feeling of home. The bed was just there, waiting for him. And, oh, Armand was there too, looking unfairly sweet as he slept. He should get into bed and snuggle up to his lover, feel that thrillingly cold skin against his. But he couldn't. There was something he had to do… some reason for being here…

“Armand?” The mirage in bed didn’t move. He was forgetting something.

Rest, beloved.

“I am resting. This is a dream, I can tell.”

Armand appeared in front of him. His face was stained with jagged tear tracks. “You’ve always had a strong mind. Come here.”

Daniel shuffled over and let Armand cradle his face. “I’m supposed to be… I can’t remember.”

“That’s right.” Armand brushed over his cheekbones. “You cannot.”

Daniel hummed, pressing into Armand’s touch. Surely things were okay. Armand was here, so Daniel would be safe. It made sense. He closed his eyes to nuzzle Armand’s palm. Something shifted inside him, making him cling harder to his lover. Except… who was his lover? How could he forget? When he looked up again, what would he see?

Armand, yes of course. Always Armand. But his hair, his eyes… Why couldn’t he remember? He quickly looked at his lover. Right. Curls. Orange.

“What’s happening? Am I sick?” Daniel felt queasy. Like all the blood in his body had frozen over. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you.”

Armand’s expression broke. “Yes.”

Lies. That was a lie, he just couldn’t place why… Daniel blinked and lost his footing on reality again. “Why’s my memory all flickery?”

“You’re forgetting.” Armand pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay. It will all be okay.”

“No.” Daniel squirmed. A hand came up to nuzzle him closer. “I can’t forget you. Never. I’m yours. Always yours. Without you, what would I do? I don’t wanna be alone. I love you. Are you doing this?”

“Daniel.” Armand stared at him blankly. “You’ll be okay. Rest in my lap. Let me pet you, beloved.”

How lovely that sounded. How awful to never have it again. Daniel shuffled further away. “I wanna wake up. I need you. I’m yours. How many times do I have to say it before you understand?”

“I can’t care for things properly,” Armand whispered. “It is unwise to be mine.”

“I will always be yours. Nothing will change that. Even if I die, I’m yours. Even if I forget your face every time I look away.” Daniel took a tentative step forward. “Please.”

Armand was eerily still. Daniel felt the dreamscape becoming unstable. The room was shaking in time with Armand’s eyes. Daniel retreated to lean against the wall. He ran his hands over the wallpaper. It didn’t feel real. He closed his eyes and focused.

He could feel his body, back in his apartment, the twitch of his fingers as he forced his mind through the confines of the dream. He kept following the sensation, trying to wake up.

“No!” Armand shouted. “I will not coddle you! Rest now!”

Daniel flinched. He opened his eyes in the dream just in time to see Armand lunging for him. Dream logic could go two ways. Daniel took off, running through impossible passageways. A maze that would slow his captor down. He willed himself to feel reality, their bedsheets. The tears falling across him as Armand cried. He took a sharp turn and found a door. Without hesitation, he barged through it.

He found himself in Armand’s lap again. Reality. His body ached as he tried to resist Armand’s powers.

“Fuck you!” Daniel cried through awful heaving sounds. “How could you do this?”

“Rest.” The command wasn't light this time. It slammed into him, made his bones shake. Cold fingers brushed the curls from his forehead.

“N-no,” Daniel slurred. He channeled all his strength to one hand, forcing his fingers to hook around Armand’s belt loop. Clinging on, a last resort. I'm yours. I’m yours. I’m yours. You can’t. I love you. I’m yours.

Meaning slipped from his mind like sand. Time running out. Milliseconds wasted as his vision blurred. He tried to make out the shape of Armand, but it was impossible. He tugged at the loop until the last of his strength faded. His arm fell limply on the bed.

“‘’Mand. Please.” He was crying uncontrollably, face wet and eyes stinging, yet entirely still in Armand’s hold.

“No. Not Armand.”

“No?” Daniel tried to clear away the haze taking over. If not Armand then who?

“Alice.”

A girl from a few weeks back. He’d interviewed her. Why her? He squinted. Maybe the blur above him did look a bit like her. But it didn’t feel right. No it couldn’t be. It had to be Ar—

Who? He could’ve sworn there was a name there, on the outskirts of his mind. It evaded him. Daniel felt his body shifted around. He groaned, trying to hold on as the presence that had been holding him so sweetly crept away. “No. Yours. Meant to be yours. Don’t go.”

“Beloved,” something brushed against his forehead, "I'm already gone.”

Never. Impossible. Daniel belonged to this creature entirely. He would never be gone. Daniel would fight his way back to him.

Yours, he thought loudly. Yours, yours… you… y….

“It’s okay, Daniel. Rest.”

Chapter Text

2022
From the second he stepped foot in the penthouse, Daniel knew things were wrong. “Rashid” was so clearly an act, he just couldn’t place why. And once that fell away, he was expected to believe in the clusterfuck of a relationship between Louis and Armand? No. Certainly not. They didn’t fit together. It was easy to excuse as fucked power dynamics when it was “Rashid”, but it was just as bad with two powerful vampires. Some feral part of him kept setting of alarm bells. Armand should not be with Louis.

So yeah, it was vindicating as hell to break them up. Daniel stared at Armand crumpled against the wall.

“Are you enjoying the show?” A line of blood dripped from Armand’s mouth. “Would you like to gloat?”

“No, I’m good.” Daniel crossed his arms. “I think Louis got the point across. What now? You chase after him? Kill me? Start a cat fight over Lestat?”

Armand didn’t answer. He smeared blood over his mouth in an attempt to wipe it away. There was a tremor in his hand. Must have fucked up some nerves when he hit the wall. Daniel was hiding a matching tremor in the crook of his elbow.

“I don’t get why you stayed with him.” Daniel ignored the glare thrown his way. “That shit wasn’t meant to be.”

“So I’m meant to be alone then?” Armand snapped before curling in on himself.

Ah, but that was the problem wasn’t it? Armand being alone wasn’t right either. His intuition kept underlining that fact, putting little exclamation points at the end. “You’re not ‘meant’ to be anything. I think that’s your issue.”

“Oh, because you’d know so well, wouldn’t you?” Armand scoffed. It was underscored by a pained wince as he tried to get his legs back under him. It had to be excruciating. Sure vampires could heal fast, but some bones still looked… wrong. His posture was off as he forced himself to stand. “You, Mr. Molloy, who so desires to tear the mask off every situation, watch in exaltation, don’t you? I have no mask now, whatever will you do? Do you want to peel away my skin and see what’s underneath? Would you like me to bleed out my life story for you?”

“And the theater kid is back at it with the drama! Shocking!” Daniel clapped his hands once, patronizing. He startled when Armand sped in front of him, a bloody predator’s smile taking over his face.

“Why are you still here, Mr. Molloy?” Armand ran a claw over Daniel’s neck. “You should be afraid, running out the door on Louis’ heels.”

Daniel opened his mouth, but no witty comeback came. Why was he still there?

Armand narrowed his eyes. “Even you don’t know.”

He should leave. It was the logical thing to do. It’s not like some threat from Louis was going to stop Armand from hurting him. But he couldn’t get himself to walk away. Couldn’t even get himself to start packing his bags.

“Curious,” Armand said. “Do what you will, then.”

And he just… left the room. Limping and off-kilter, of course, but otherwise like nothing had happened. What the fuck? Daniel found himself following before the decision really registered. Armand did not protest.

Of all things, Armand grabbed his stupid fucking iPad and settled on the couch. There was an awful crunching sound as he settled in. It was nausea-inducing, a concerningly wet noise, but Armand’s posture looked significantly better.

“Do you intend to watch me from there? What if I decide to kill you? It could happen any second now.”

“I don’t see why you’d wait.” Daniel shrugged. He waited for more taunting, but apparently Armand really intended to sit and play games. Daniel took the opposite end of the couch. It was all too anti-climatic. “Seriously?”

“I’m not capable of much while my body is in this state, Mr. Molloy. There is no reason for you to be here if it bothers you so much. Go work on your book. I doubt Louis’ fire gift could reach whatever remote servers hold your backed up recordings.”

The room felt awkward. The whole interview led up to this: two old men sitting on a couch. The fuck was that? A shit story! The ending should’ve made the whole thing worth-while. This couldn’t possibly be it.

Daniel stayed seated. “I’m missing something.”

Armand paused whatever game he was playing to peer at him with bright, orange eyes. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I don’t know.” Daniel raked a hand through his hair. “But I’m not leaving until I figure it out.”

“Sure,” Armand drawled, “because you love it here so much.”

***

“You’re keeping something from me. Some part of the story,” Daniel announced over breakfast. A bagel, toasted but plain. The bland result of fucking around in the kitchen until he found some suitably boring. He’d been feeling too off-kilter to stomach much. Armand eyed the crumbs sprinkling over the couch with reproach.

Three days had passed. He split his time between writing and trying to needle information from Armand. It was a sort of pattern now. Breakfast. Poke at Armand. Write a chapter or two. Find Armand again. So far, results were dire. At some point, Armand would sigh long-sufferingly and move to another room over and over until he gave up and let Daniel annoy him. Not that he ever actually answered any of Daniel’s questions.

“Is that so? Perhaps you should go chase after Louis and ask him about it.” Armand got up and headed towards the kitchen.

“Louis has no reason to hide stuff from me now.” Daniel followed and leaned against the counters to observe. He knew whatever was missing had nothing to do with Louis. There was no tangible evidence for it. Just his intuition, and hell, trusting that often did him favors. “You on the other hand…”

“What reason would I have to hide something?” Armand grabbed the toaster and threw it at the wall, full-force. Daniel startled and took a few steps back.

“What the fuck was that? Throwing a tantrum?”

“No.” Armand sat crossed-legged, surrounded by various electronic pieces. He sifted through them with some weird system, sorting them into two piles. No more morning toast, then. Was this Armand’s new plan? Slowly remove all cooking implements until Daniel starved? Armand looked up at him. “The blender is still intact. You can make yourself smoothies. A produce delivery should arrive later.”

“What’s up with that?” Daniel frowned. “Not killing me, making sure I don’t starve.”

Armand tensed up. His body seized strangely before releasing with a shudder. Was his spine still fucked up? Hadn’t it been long enough to heal? Armand tried to adjust, but went still soon after. Did it hurt?

“Do you care?” Armand responded to the thought. “It healed wrong. I’d have to re-injure myself to set it right.”

“And instead you’re just leaving it? Some sort of weird take on self-flaggellation now that Louis isn't here to dish it out?” Daniel rolled his eyes when Armand didn’t answer. “Fix your damn back.”

“Now?” Armand finished sorting the pieces in his strange hunched over pose. “Would you like to help? Maybe that’s what you’re missing. Some revenge for the altered memories of 1973.”

“You can’t fix it on your own, can you?” Daniel surmised.

Armand frowned. “In theory, I could. But I would need to create a perfect impact at the misaligned area and that is difficult to do when the injury is out of sight. I don’t exactly have options here, do I?”

“You have me.”

Armand just stared at him for a while. Daniel held his gaze.

“Fine. There’s a crowbar somewhere around here.” Armand stood. “Don’t step on my things.”

Daniel sidestepped the piles and followed. “A crowbar? Wait, you want me to hit you?”

“Yes.” Armand said, so casually, like it was a normal request. “You’re the one who insisted I fix the misalignment. Have you changed your mind?”

Daniel thought of the flashes of hurt that broke through the mask. “No. Let’s just get it over with. No use trying to get answers when you’re brooding over an injury.”

Armand located an iron crowbar in what appeared to be a workshop. He handed it over and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Daniel felt a hit of confusion before remembering he’d have to see Armand’s spine to hit the right place. Still, he couldn’t look away from Armand’s chest, the dusting of hair there. Buzzing desire spread through him. He shoved it down, embarrassed. The asshole was probably in his head, catching every thought.

“I am.” Armand confirmed. He placed the shirt on a workbench and braced himself against the wall, arching his spine so the knobs stuck out. “Can you see the problem?”

Without a doubt. A clear bend to the left near the center. Daniel poked at it and Armand’s shoulder blades went tight. “Sorry, I didn’t know that would hurt.”

“The point is to hurt.”

“The point is to heal, dumbass.” Daniel lined up the crowbar. His hand was shaking, but it should be fine. Probably. “Ready?”

Armand nodded. He didn’t brace himself or flinch when Daniel brought his arms down in the best swing he could muster and struck home. He just took a slightly shaky breath. “Harder, Daniel.”

He swung again, this time hearing an awful crack. Armand ducked his head, but still didn’t make a sound. It was unsettling. “Did that work? It looks like it worked.”

“Shove them into place,” Armand demanded in lieu of an answer. “Now, Daniel! Unless you’re seeking out another go.”

Daniel prodded at Armand’s back, the cold undead skin. He expected to feel repulsed by it, like touching a corpse. Instead, there was a strange comfort. Perhaps he’d been sitting alone at home for too long. He pressed at the sides of Armand’s spine until it looked about right. “There.”

“Hold it,” Armand said. Daniel kept his hands still. “Just long enough to ensure…”

“Ensure?” Daniel prompted, trying to keep his hands steady. That damn tremor. It was too quiet again. “Armand? You good?”

After another beat of silence, Armand pushed away from the wall. “It seems to have worked. I only need some sedentary time to ensure it stays put.”

He was still facing away from Daniel as he picked up his shirt.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Daniel repositioned himself so Armand couldn’t leave the room without meeting his eyes.

“Which question?” Armand was purposefully taking his sweet time with the buttons.

“Are you good?” Daniel sighed. “Look I’m not moving so either you hurt me to get by, which you seem uninspired by, or just give up and look at me.”

Armand turned like a porcelain figure in a music box. His face was blank, but there were streaks of red running down his cheeks. Fucking hell.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Mr. Molloy?”

No. The bloody tears inspired an awful feeling in him. An urge to fix it. Nonsensical. Louis’ tears hadn’t made him feel this sympathetic. What was this? Armand hadn’t even cried at the original injury. There was a sharp jolt of pain in his head.

What is this, tears? You’re going to weep over me?

Daniel pressed his eyes closed for a moment. What the fuck was that? Why did the words echoing around in his skull feel like liquid deja-vu? Filling up all the cracks in his mind, seeping outwards. Armand’s eyes widened slightly. Was he doing this? Daniel glared.

“Oh we share a little masochistic moment and now it’s back to ‘Mr. Molloy’?” There was something like surprise in Armand’s eyes, like he only just realized his slip up in using Daniel’s name. What did he have against calling him Daniel? Asshole. “Go lie down somewhere. I’ll bring you your iPad. And just lay there normally. I’m not doing this again.”

“Why…” Armand didn’t finish the thought. He’d sorted through his arsenal of masks and shoved one on before anything could escape. Without another word, he left the room.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to locate the iPad and then a frustrating amount to find Armand. He wasn’t on the couch or the bed he’d shared with Louis. No, Daniel eventually found Armand in his room of all places.

“I know you won’t answer, but I’m asking anyway.” Daniel handed over the iPad and sat at the edge of the bed. “What are you doing in here?”

“This room was closer.” Armand moved to shrug, but aborted the gesture partway through. It must have hurt. Daniel hated the concern he felt. Why should he care? Why was he all of a sudden playing nurse? Evil was curling into his sheets and he was doing nothing to stop it. It had to be a game, a fucked up power play of some sort. He could wait it out.

Daniel snatched a book from the nightstand and sat on the mattress properly. If this was some new strategy from Armand, it wasn’t going to work. Daniel would figure things out. He’d find what was missing.

***

Daniel got up for a piss break and Armand was gone when he returned. So much for whatever strange tableau that was. He ventured back through the penthouse, finding no sign of Armand. Had he left? Daniel felt a surge of disappointment at the thought. He wasn’t done. They weren’t done.

“I’m still here.” Armand appeared behind him, causing Daniel to startle and stumble to the side. He tripped over the stupid fucking stairs to Louis beloved rock pit and fell. His joints ached at impact.

Armand stalked forward with a crazed grin. His fangs were out, dangerous little points. Daniel fumbled to get up, but before he could push off the ground, Armand was over him like a predator.

“What the fuck, Armand?” Daniel stilled. There was no point in fight or flight with a vampire.

“I’m healed, Mr. Molloy. What's stopping me from killing you now?” Armand pressed his hands to Daniel’s neck. “I want to. I want to feel your bones snap under my hands.”

“Then do it,” Daniel snarled.

“Perhaps I’m waiting until you’re in a better mood. I want the blood to taste good.” Armand licked over one of his fangs. He narrowed his eyes and dug his claws in. Too gentle. Not even breaking the skin.

“Liar,” Daniel said.

“Not about this.” Armand adjusted his grip. But he didn’t squeeze. Yeah, what a fucking performance. Director sure, but he couldn’t act for shit.

“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Before Armand could reply, Daniel sat up. Armand backed off, just as expected. Daniel rose slowly to account for the new aches in his body. “Trying to scare me off now?”

Armand looked caught out, because yeah, that was obviously the play here. Not that it made sense, nothing did.

“I’m not so easy to get rid of. You should’ve figured that out by now. The only way to get rid of me is telling the truth about whatever you’re hiding.”

“No.” Armand took a step back. “No. You will leave now.”

“Well, that’s the worst attempt yet. Asking nicely? Really?”

“Leave!” Armand yelled. “Get out! I don’t want you here! Get out!”

Daniel ignored the histrionics and stomped off towards the kitchen. He needed a fucking drink and there had to be some sort of alcohol around. Where was the cart ‘Rashid’ had pushed around when he needed it?

“Daniel!” Armand followed. He looked haggard, as if a few seconds rendered him into a broken creature. “You will leave!”

“No, I don’t think I will.” He swung open cabinets. “You already know my terms.”

“You want to linger here?” Armand rasped. “In this house of monsters? Go back to your mortal life, Daniel. You have a family!”

“Oh please, none of them miss me.” Daniel cursed when the kitchen yielded nothing.

“You have a life out there.” Armand sounded like he was pleading. It didn’t make sense.

“And I have a story in here. Tell me the truth.” Daniel analyzed the crumpled expression on Armand’s face. That pesky sympathy was back. “It’s not like it’s gonna be worse than everything I’ve already learned. What’s left to lose now?”

“It’s not about losing something,” Armand snapped. Then he frowned. “Or perhaps it is. But it’s already been lost.”

“Save the pity party. You’ll get over Louis.”

“This isn’t about Louis,” Armand muttered. “You truly will not leave? Even if I were to go first?”

“I’d chase you down. I’m not letting this one go. Last big story of the career. Of my life, probably. I’m damn well getting the full thing.”

“Or you’ll die trying,” Armand added.

Stupid argument. “I’ll die either way.”

Armand stilled, like that was some sort of revelation. “You’ll die either way.”

A statement wrapped over a question, strangling it. It shouldn’t matter to Armand whether Daniel lived or died. There was another sharp pain in his head.

Even if I die, I’m yours.

“Finish the story, Armand.” Daniel had to know. He was not letting Armand slip away, he couldn’t. Fuck the reason behind it. He needed this.

“If I let you remember, you’ll leave? Go back to your life?” Armand asked. Anger flashed through Daniel, sharp and destructive like lightning.

“You motherfucker, you took more memories? Of course you did. Give them back.”

Armand’s face went blank, but he nodded. He stepped forward and cupped Daneil’s cheek. Daniel wanted to curse him out. There was no need for manufactured intimacy. That shit wasn’t going to work on him. Armand smacked his cheek, not too hard, just enough to get Daniel to meet his eyes. Those glowing, exploding star eyes that seemed to see right into him.

Daniel felt the pain in his head return, but this time it didn’t ease. It grew exponentially, promising destruction. A drumbeat set off inside him. He pressed his fists against his temples and cursed.

“Daniel?”

He ignored Armand to grip the counter so he could crumple to the floor without hurting himself. Rest. He’d been told to rest, put to rest. It’s okay, Daniel. Rest.

“Are you doing this?” The words came out breathy and strained.

“No,” Armand knelt next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Agony seared through his head, explosive and nonstop. He must have made some sort of wounded noise because Armand was at his sid, checking him for injury. One of his hands came up to wipe a smear of blood from Daniel’s nose. Every mask Armand wore was shattering in front of him, giving way to a look of horror that slowly faded into a blur as Daniel’s vision caved.

“What…” Daniel tried to shift, to hold himself up, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate.

“No,” Armand whispered, holding him close. “No you cannot leave me.”

The pain had risen to an inconceivable hum. More than he could comprehend, leaving behind a strange numbness. He couldn’t parse out what Armand was saying. There were other voices, familiar ones, echoing in the back of his head, fighting for dominance in the cacophony. He felt his body shifting around and tried to slur out something coherent. He was met with something wet and sweet. When the first drop slid down his throat, he understood.

Blood.

The cacophony faded into white noise as one clear conversation came into focus. Decades ago, in the Villa of Mysteries, the first time he’d tasted this exact thing. This exact blood. More of it was falling into him. Or was that still the past? Red running down like a fountain. He couldn’t make out the difference. This room was unfamiliar. It should be old ruins.

“Can you hear me?” Armand asked, voice wobbling. “Daniel?”

“Yeah, boss.” Daniel muttered, groaning as the numbness faded and the pain returned. Hadn’t he been on his knees just now? “Where’s the villa?”

“The…” Armand came into focus again. “You remember Pompeii?”

“Course, you brought me here.”

“No, beloved. I’ve hurt you and you’re confused.” Armand pet his hair. “It’s okay. This is my fault. I can fix it, beloved.”

Daniel felt a tear slip down his cheek. Why was he sad? This was a good moment, a good memory. He was too weak to wipe away the tears. Armand must have caught the thought because he ran his thumbs under Daniel’s eyes. Sharp claws so close to a fragile part of him, but there was no reason to fear. He was held by his lover.

Thank you, Daniel thought. I love you.

Armand smiled so sadly as he slipped into his mind like a warm caress. They weren’t in Pompeii anymore. He’d just retreated there, to their beautiful union that night, for comfort. This was death, wasn’t it? Daniel was disconnected from his body and the tether to his mind was weak. Something had gone wrong and he was dying.

No, beloved. I will fix it. You’ll be okay.

Are you cryin’, boss? Daniel tried to get a better look, but instead felt his head tugged back to expose his neck. Don’t cry.

I love you, Daniel.

Before he could think something back, something lyrical and monumental, he felt the bite. The swoon hit quickly as he was drained. The increasing weakness of his body rendered him useless. It was okay. Armand had him. It was okay.

***

Consciousness returned with a bang. Daniel sat bolt upright, body on fire as he doubled over to retch. Strong arms held him, rubbing his back until the worst of it passed. The world was too bright, too loud, and his mind was running too quickly to process a single thought.

“I’m sorry,” a broken voice kept repeating. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Daniel muttered, squinting to get a better look at the world. What the fuck was happening? Blurry shapes coalescended into a familiar face. Armand. “What did you do?”

Armand’s eyes were bright orange and shaking. He wouldn’t make eye contact. Dark red tear tracks stained his face. “Let me clean you up. Then you can feed.”

His whole body ached at the thought of eating. An unavoidable urge. He needed to feel the hot slide of blood down his—

“Fuck!” He pushed back from Armand, looked down at his newly clawed hands, and cursed again. “Did you fucking turn me?”

Armand stared at the floor. “You were dying. Your body was… unable to handle a sudden onset of stress.”

What the fuck did that mean? Daniel grasped at the muddy moments before he blacked out. He’d been trying to get the rest of the story and then his head felt like it was exploding. He forced himself to think harder, to shove away the relentless hunger. Something about Pompeii…

“You tried to give memories back?” Daniel caught Armand’s eye for just a moment before that blank stare fell back down.

“Yes.” Armand shifted so he was kneeling, like he was about to pray. “I was not aware returning too many things at once would have… intense effects. Do you remember?”

Daniel’s brain went into a whirlwind. Every sense was screaming in agony. The penthouse was too bright. He wanted to plug his nose, stop smelling the tantalizing blood tears running down Armand’s cheeks. He swore he could hear screaming, his own voice from years ago cursing and sobbing out cruel words. “I remember that I fucking hate you.”

Armand’s eyes shook for just a moment. “Yes. Let me clean you up, fledgling.”

“Fuck you,” Daniel gritted out. Now the physical sensations were taking over. The vomit and excrement was gross against his skin. Louis had more or less glazed over this part. The humiliation of it. “I can do it myself. Leave me alone.”

He tried to stand, but found himself toppling to one side. Armand caught him, not saying a word as he hauled Daniel into his arms and sped to the nearest bathroom. The suddenness of it had Daniel feeling sick all over again, this time making a mess of Armand’s shirt. Fucking hell. His head felt like it was on fire. He mourned the coolness of Armand’s proximity when he was set back on his feet. Daniel leaned into the wall, not wanting to stumble. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Not that he had to breathe anymore. Fuck.

Cold hands tugged at his clothes. He swatted them away. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Let me.” Armand said it quietly, more of a plea than a request. “Let me do this one thing, belov—fledgling.”

What was that cutoff? Daniel tried to catch the thread, desperate to tug at it, but his mind hadn’t slowed down yet. Too much was happening at once, too many sensations and memories, all at full blast. Armand flipped off the lights and some of the pain faded with it. He heard the sound of the tub filling like a raging waterfall. Eventually, Armand’s hands returned to his clothes, peeling away the soiled fabrics. Every brief moment of skin-to-skin had Daniel shivering. What was that? The maker-fledgling bond? Why did the cold contact make warmth burst in him? Right under his ribs.

The warm spot seemed almost tangible. He prodded at it, experimenting.

“Stop,” Armand’s voice broke on the word. “Please stop doing that.”

Could Armand feel it too? “I’ll do whatever I want. I don’t need you telling me what to do. After what you did to me—”

“I know,” Armand said as he guided Daniel into the tub. He scrubbed Daniel down, removing any trace of filth on his skin. It was easier to focus like this, surrounded by water and little else to distract him. It was almost… familiar.

“We’ve done this.” Daniel muttered as Armand went to work on shampooing his hair. He tried to piece together a solid memory, but everything was too fragmented and slipped through his fingers. “You motherfucker. I know we’ve done this. Say something.”

Armand cupped water in his hands, careful not to get soap in Daniel’s eyes. “You need to feed.”

“Don’t ignore me.” Daniel growled. He was hungry, his new fangs dropped and cut his lips as he spoke. “I’m not eating until you explain what’s happening.”

“I don’t think you have much of a say.” Armand cut a line across his wrist and pressed it to Daniel’s mouth. It was like a beast took over as he bit down, drinking greedily.

Every concern melted away. He was filled to the brim with this blood, Armand’s blood. It filtered through him, soothing the gnawing ache of hunger. He swore he could feel the second it routed into his brain. The rushing memories slowed into discernable images. Nights at the theater. Dancing in clubs. Begging for The Gift. It was still disorganized, but at least he could make out pieces. And, oh, the feeling of Armand’s flesh against his tongue. The meat of muscle and wiry tendons. He dug in deeper until he felt his fangs scrape bone.

Armand tried to tug his arm back. Daniel gripped onto it, letting his claws dig into the skin as he drank deeper. This was right.

“Do you wish to drain me?” Armand whispered. “Do it then. Kill me. Please.”

The words shuttered Daniel out of his reverie. He shoved Armand away, but that only made the bond tug uncomfortably between them.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Daniel relaxed back in the tub. He felt higher than ever before, floating above worry and sense. “Where’s my necklace?”

Armand took a while to answer. “The amulet? I kept it safe. Among other things. I can leave them for you.”

“Leave them?” Daniel closed his eyes, letting memories wash over him. Blenders. He was stuck in a loop of blenders. Two years spent buying, breaking, and experimenting with blenders. Is that what Armand had been doing with the toaster earlier? The loop repeated. Fuck the fucking blenders.

“Yes.” Armand took a fluffy towel and held it up. “You need rest. It’s nearly sunrise and your body will succumb to it.”

Daniel rose, unbothered by his nakedness. Armand had seen it before. Younger sure, but all the same parts. He knew that much. The material of the towel was soft as Armand ran it over him. “My thoughts were full speed and now it’s like moving through molasses. I can’t… think.”

“That’s the sun.” Armand led him back to his room. He dressed Daniel in pajamas and tucked him into bed. “You’re only a fledgling.”

“Not a fucking kid. I could do all this myself,” Daniel muttered.

“Suffer it a moment longer, please.” Armand pressed his fingers to Daniel’s mouth, prodding until he was examining the fangs there. Another memory settled into place. He’d liked to try and break Armand’s skin with his mortal teeth back then. Armand had laughed at him.

“Fuck you.” Daniel’s word made Armand’s fingers retreat. “I’m so fucking mad at you. Just because the combo of blood-uppers and sun-downers is making me useless doesn’t mean I’m not pissed as hell.”

Armand smiled, but the bond ached so bad Daniel felt the need to curl in on himself. “I know. Rest now.”

A new memory took over. The end. The emotions flooded him at once, bringing tears to his eyes in seconds. It was as if a dam broke. He’d begged for Armand to keep him. Fought against ancient power and clawed at his own mind to remember. And then he was left alone, drowning. “How could you? I was yours. And you left me.”

“It had to be done.” Armand sat at the end of the bed and flicked off the lights with a wave of his hand. “You will need to order a coffin to stay safe. Louis will help you.”

Daniel rubbed away his tears, but they just kept coming. He hated the old ache, the hiding emptiness he didn’t know was there until he’d drunk down Armand again. His words were beginning to slur with tiredness. “The fuck does Louis have to do with anything?”

“He’ll take care of you.” Armand looked away.

“What?” It dawned on Daniel at once. He tried to sit up. His body gave up without permission. His eyes were drooping, betraying him as he reached for Armand. “Where the hell are you going?”

Armand came to the side of the bed and leaned over Daniel, still in control of his body. He pressed a kiss to Daniel’s forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Daniel growled. “No you can’t do this again! You made this whole damned mess. You don’t get to sidestep accountability. You don’t get to leave the story unfinished! You said it yourself! I’m just a fledgling. I can’t make it on my own!”

“Rest, Daniel.” Armand backed away. “You’ll feel much better after resting. Louis will return eventually and aid you.”

“You’re leaving me alone?” Daniel was horrified at the thought. It was one thing to hear about vampires, about turning. Actually being a monster was another thing entirely. He felt sick again, like he wanted to purge all the blood inside him. Force Armand to stay and feed him again. If he drained enough blood, Armand would be too weak to leave and then… fuck Daniel couldn’t even move. What was he thinking? “I can’t do this alone.”

“Rest,” Armand repeated. He was at the door, silhouetted by light. Daniel tried to fight the sun dragging him down.

“You can’t leave me!” Daniel yelled as loud as he could. Armand looked away. That small action had Daniel’s whole body sag, all his power spent on an ultimately useless plea. He reached out again, voice barely audible. “Don’t leave. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Was meant to be undead with you. Was meant to be yours.”

Armand shook his head, almost imperceptibly. One last time he said, “Rest.”

Daniel couldn’t fight it anymore, arm going limp against the mattress with the rest of him. He tried to stay awake, tried to fight the inevitable, but rest still came. Whether or not he wanted it, rest always came back to haunt him. He cursed his body, cursed the blood, and even the stupid fucking sun.

Fuck you, he thought. Armand would never hear it now. Not anymore. Fuck you and I love you, you complete asshole.

Chapter Text

2025
Doing coke didn’t hit the same as when he was a dumb twenty-year-old making heart eyes at a monster. Lestat was making out with some fan across the room, sending a telepathic invitation to join. Daniel was over it. Suddenly, it all felt so useless. How long had he been doing this? And to what end? Another story? Was that it for eternity? Chasing and chasing and—

“You’re ruining the vibes, fledgling.” Lestat tapped the fan's head and let them crumple to the floor.

“Yeah?” Daniel was coming down from the high already. He couldn’t quite recall the last time he drank from a sober victim. Too much thinking when his head was clear. That was always the issue back then too. It was easier to accept he’d shrivel up and die a mortal when he was high. What excuse did he have for the drugs now?

“Ugh,” Lestat sauntered over and snatched Daniel’s sunglasses. “You’re thinking about him again.”

“Yeah.” There was a sense of resignation in admitting it. His eyes were such an obvious tell. “Always am, aren’t I?”

“What is it tonight then?” Lestat rolled his eyes. “Wallowing in self-pity or cursing his name for all eternity?”

“Fuck off.” Daniel grabbed his sunglasses and made for the door.

“What could possibly have you so wound up out of nowhere?” Lestat followed. Fucking nuisance. “I won’t leave you alone until you tell me.”

“Is this the ‘irresistible charm’ Louis mentioned? I can see why he left you.”

“Petty insults!” Lestat laughed. “Tell me or I’ll pick it out of your fluffy gray head.”

Daniel glared. His mind gift was shockingly strong, but he was still a fledgling. Lestat could peel away his barriers if he tried hard enough. He’d done it a few times during their interviews, just to get under Daniel’s skin. It was a violation every time. No one was ever gonna be allowed in his head again if he had any say. The only person he’d ever allowed free reign of it no longer had access. Why should anyone else get to root around in there?

“There was a photo of Paris in the room,” Daniel said. It was a street he knew, one that popped up often in his dreams. He’d been drunk that night, stumbling over the uneven bricks and singing at the top of his lungs. Armand had to mindfuck a police officer to keep Daniel from getting arrested. He’d picked Daniel up then, flying them to a rooftop to look up at the stars. Armand had read him poems between kisses. Nothing too special, one of their least eventful adventures, but the edges of the memory were sharp. Death by a million cuts or whatever.

Lestat hummed. “Paris. A city of love and hate, no?”

“Sure. Go fuck that groupie and leave me alone.”

It wasn’t just Paris. Everything was compounding to a breaking point. The interviews were hitting too close to home. Broken fledglings. Nicki’s hands. Shitty makers. Little needles in his brain melting into a heavy ball of hurt in his chest. He could feel the bond, sometimes, pressed right up against the hurt. It was buzzing again, like it did so often. His maker was near.

What were the standards for “abandonment”? Armand hadn’t left him. Daniel could feel him every night. Always lurking but refusing to show himself. Asshole.

Daniel went for the nearest alley. He lit a cigarette with the fire gift. Nicotine didn’t soothe the same way it did when he was human. It felt like a pantomime at normalcy. After two unsatisfying pulls, he threw it in a nearby dumpster. Daniel watched, a thrilling anticipation filling him as he waited to see if it would catch fire. Sure enough, smoke began to rise. He leaned against the opposite wall until it became a full-scale blaze.

Give or take forty years ago, Armand set up a bonfire in a forest. He’d been burning film strips and records to watch how they melted. Daniel had been so concerned back then. Fire was one of the few things that could hurt his baby. Why did it have to be the obsession of the week? He kept tugging at Armand’s sleeve, getting him further from the flames.

After, Armand kept the damaged media and played back what he could, fascinated by the distortion. Daniel hadn’t seen the appeal. The burn marks ruined the films and the records sounded like they’d been dug up from hell. Put something nice through fire and it wouldn’t play the same. Yet somehow, he still recognized “Endless Love” when it played. That steady, familiar rhythm cutting through the nightmare.

Daniel stepped towards the fire lazily. It was all distortion now, memories run through a shredder and he was left to tape them back together. Lonely little fledgling left to pick up the pieces of himself. Before he could get within five feet of the flames, they disappeared.

“Yeah.” Daniel sighed. “That’s what I thought. Still here, then?”

He didn’t expect an answer. There never was one. Just the strange buzzing under his ribcage. Maybe it was all in his head and he’d never set the fire. Maybe the “bond” was the remnants of drugs running through him or wishful thinking. Or hanging out with Louis and Lestat made hallucinations rub off on him. Just instead of a litany of people wronged, he got the vague feeling of Armand being around.

It might be easier if it was all in his head. Knowing it was only the ghost of his devil would confirm a true abandonment. Instead, he was stuck in purgatory. If he were to run, would the feeling follow? Was it all just the memories screwing him over? His head fucking hurt. The distorted memories grinded against his bones. He didn’t want another chase. Vampirism healed the ache in his body, but the weariness remained. He wanted his maker to choose him. Not haunt him or follow him around. He was so fucking tired of running.

The hotel room stank of blood when he returned. There was a corpse in the corner. He’d never quite gotten the hang of a clean kill. Not that it mattered. The bodies disappeared while he slept, making sure his cover was never blown. Pointless endeavor to protect his ‘secret’. As if he wasn’t declaring himself a vampire on late-night television every chance he got.

“No cleaning service today?” Daniel kicked the body closer to the wall. “Trying to send a message? Are you upset that I don’t do it myself?”

Daniel pulled out his laptop and found the Talamasca files. “I was thinking of diving into the Venice folder today. You know, the one you keep deleting? Must fucking suck to be outsmarted by the Talamasca. They keep putting it back.”

This was where, in the old days, Armand would point out that Daniel was also outsmarted by them with all those ridiculous edits in the book. But there was no room for banter with a mute haunting. No way for Armand to stop him either if he was so set on hiding. Daniel scrolled through scans of paintings and manuscripts. The old journal entries were in Latin. He sighed. Of course the Talamasca hadn’t bothered to translate any of it.

He clicked through the paintings. Sometimes, it took a moment to pick out Armand. Too light of skin, different face structure, but something always gave it away in the end. The pull force of Armand drawing him in. He was so young in all of them. Even towards the end, with tired eyes and thin frame, he was young.

“So at this point you were sick right?” Daniel held up his laptop and rotated it so Armand could see it from whichever corner he was hiding in. “I’m assuming doctors back then didn’t have the words to diagnose it. You got any guesses?”

He waited for a small rustle or disturbance. Nothing. “I’m starting to think you aren’t real. That I’ve been making all this up. You ran off and the poor bastard fledgling lost his mind.”

It was a night where that made more sense than the alternative. Repulsive and heretic. Why would Armand be following him? Maybe Armand had been so entirely repulsed that he’d gone into the fire that same night. And then all the anguish compounded, sending Daniel over the edge of sanity. Except Lestat sometimes felt Armand’s presence and mocked him about it. Armand was there. He had to be there. The fire in the dumpster was real. Armand was protecting him. Because if it wasn’t real…

“I…” Daniel hesitated. “You listen in on the interviews, right? You heard what Lestat talked about last week?”

Daniel stared at his laptop. He skipped through photos until he spotted a small signature in the corner. Marius de Romanus. “He’s alive. So he left you there, in Paris, to rot underground. A premature burial. If I go to Paris now and dig a hole for myself, are you just going to watch from above and leave flowers? Or would you dig me up?”

The silence ached. He needed proof. Concrete, believable proof that he wasn’t losing his mind. It had gone on too long and he couldn’t take it. It was one thing to watch his mind fail him in his old age, but he was meant to have a ticket out now. Cruel was the only word to describe it. He slammed his laptop shut. This was Armand’s fault. It always came back to his old lover.

He wanted to do something drastic, dramatic. In the old days, he’d shoot up with heroin or pick a fight. Boring old methods. He could think of something better now. Daniel tore the lid off his flimsy travel-coffin and stomped it to pieces. He threw the curtains open for every window. When the moonlight filtered into the room it didn’t magically reveal Armand. He let out a guttural scream.

“Let me dig my grave then!” He growled. “Leave your flowers and polish the poem you use as an epitaph with your tears. Or prove to me that you’re real. Your choice.”

A few days post-turning, he’d stuck a fingertip into the sun just to see what would happen. Instead of excruciating pain and crumbling to dust, he just had a tiny sunburn for a week. Further experiments revealed similar results. He attempted to see how long he could last. That destructive curiosity always got the better of him. He’d left his pinky in the sun until it was blistering and raw. He chickened out then, not willing to lose the finger. He needed it to type, to finish his book.

There was no book now. Only the world’s worst documentary. What was the point?

Sleeping in the sun for hours was sure to put him in a terrible state. He was hoping it wouldn’t kill him. Well most of him hoped that. Some twisted part of him, distraught and tired, was tempted. Eternity without Armand fell flat. He ignored that part of him and sprawled on top of the bed, no sheets to keep him safe.

Armand probably didn’t know about the sun experiments. The buzzy feeling hadn’t been there in the early days. All he’d had was a box of old things. Photos and knick-knacks. A cracked blender he had back in his house. And, of course, the amulet he kept had tucked under his shirt. Armand didn’t stick around to see what Daniel did with any of it. If he was really there now, he would think Daniel was trying to kill himself. A cruel trick in return for a cruel trick.

“Goodnight, boss,” Daniel whispered. He wanted to twist the knife, to know Armand was suffering as much as him. “Hopefully I’ll see you at sunset.”

***

He awoke to darkness. His vampiric vision was a godsend as he took in the room. No pain, no burns. An attempt to flick on the bedside lamp was thwarted by a heavy metal chain wrapped around his wrist. He found his legs similarly bound to the corners of the bed. Giddiness seeped through him. Armand was there. He glanced at the window and burst into laughter. The curtains were messily stitched together in the center, the edges stapled into the wall. He couldn’t stop the unhinged cackling as it built and built.

“You asshole!” Daniel grinned. “Where are you? Come out here.”

It would be simple to break the chains, but why would he? His maker was there. Somewhere in the room, lurking, watching over his fledgling. He squinted at the closet as the door cracked open.

“Oh no, there seems to be a vicious monster hiding in my closet, won’t my maker come save me?” Daniel struggled just to hear the clink of the chains. It was sick and comforting and lovely. Memories of being splayed out like this kept bubbling up, sending heat to his groin. “Come here. Why bother pretending anymore. I know you’re there. Can’t keep avoiding child-support. Come to me.”

Two specs of orange broke through the darkness. Relief and fury surged through him. He pulled at the chains again, performative. A chair dragged across the floor, meeting Armand as he stood at the foot of the bed.

“You will not burn yourself.” Armand took a seat and crossed his legs elegantly. “Tell me why.”

“Why?” Daniel laughed again. “What was I meant to do on my own? Keep hanging out with Lestat? Deal with Louis’ passive-aggression about the book and act like everything’s okay? Go mad? That’s where things were headed. You mess with a guy’s head too much and he starts to lose it. Just like the old days.”

“You were not ‘losing it’. You’ve flourished as a fledgling. Strong, clever as ever, and friends with powerful people.”

“Try alone, abandoned, and barely tolerated in Lestat’s self-destructive spiral. And how would you know about my mind? Can’t get in there anymore. You were just lurking around, making me doubt reality. Not cool. I had to do something to know you’re there.”

“And what if you were wrong? What if I wasn’t there and you—” Armand cut off with a deep inhale. It would come off a performance if Daniel didn’t know him so well. “You wanted to punish me, to make me hurt for what I did to you. If you want revenge, you can take it, but not like that. Never like that. I will free you to do as you please so long as you do not attempt such things again.”

“As I please?” Daniel yanked hard enough to break the chain on his right arm. “Oh how gracious.”

He flicked on the lamp and hissed when he got a real look at Armand. He was gaunt, almost like those later paintings. Starved was the only word for it.

“It’s hard to be mad at you,” Daniel said. “Not in a ‘I love you too much to be mad’ way. Because I’m pissed as hell. In a ‘you do self destructive shit when I’m mad’ way. Fucking hell. When was the last time you ate?”

“Is that what you need? If I eat, will you let out the anger and stop doing such drastic things?”

“I don’t want you to suffer.” Daniel pulled his other arm free. “You come in here while I sleep like a maid-bodyguard hybrid because you have a claim on me. Your boy, your fledgling. But you always forget part of it.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re just as much mine as I’m yours.” Daniel smiled. “Yeah, take that. Bet that hurt worse than whatever bullshit you thought I was gonna do. God I’m so fucking mad at you.”

Armand frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Come here.” Daniel freed his legs before adjusting the pillows so he was sitting comfortably against the headboard. Armand didn’t move. He repeated, more firmly, “Come here.”

Armand crawled up the bed, very creature-like in his movement. He settled on Daniel’s lap, head tilted like he was trying to guess what Daniel wanted. That wasn’t right. He tugged Armand to the side, sitting him on the mattress and pulling his legs over his lap. Daniel knew the position well, a perfect angle for a snack.

“Drink. I’m not being pissed at a husk.” He waited for Armand to make the move, but evidently he wouldn't do it on his own. He just stared with his brows knitted. Daniel sighed and cut a gash in his neck. “Come on, don’t waste it.”

Armand’s pupils went impossibly wide as the smell of blood hit the air. He clamped down on the wound, little fangs digging in. Daniel tried to control his thoughts. He didn’t want the wrong things to come through in the blood. Nothing too harsh, nothing too nice. Armand needed a clear head first. And Daniel needed a guarantee that he wouldn’t run off again. He focused on safety instead. On belonging. Mine, he thought over and over.

After a few minutes, Armand’s body went tense. He pulled away and wiped some of the mess on his sleeve. He looked horrified. Brain back online then. Good.

“I’m not gonna ask for an apology because I know you’re only sorry about the consequences of your actions and not what you did.” Daniel tipped Armand’s chin up to make eye-contact. “What I want is a promise. Can you manage that?”

Armand shifted, moving to put a valley of space between them. Asshole. “Only fools agree to something before knowing the parameters.”

“Fair. The deal is this: you don’t pull this shit again. No weird stalking without showing yourself. If I piss you off and you need space, fine. Go take a vacation across the globe until you can bear the sight of me again. But come back. Don’t lurk in the shadows. Cause that’s how you lose me.”

“So this is an ultimatum?” Armand frowned. “I stay or you kill yourself?”

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m not going anywhere, not like that. But when you’re only halfway here, everything slips away. Like I’m having a constant bad trip. And I start to doubt what’s real, even in the memories. Which, fuck you for taking those, by the way.”

“I did not intend for—”

“I know.” Daniel sighed. “People say you're some conniving mastermind, but you don’t think that far ahead, do you? Doesn’t matter either way. The damage is done so it’s time to face it—me. Your repulsive little fledgling.”

“You do not repulse me.” Armand’s eyes shook slightly. “You’ve turned out… resplendent.”

Well, that was just unfair. The bubbling anger tampered down to a simmer. That pesky desire for praise from this specific man always got the best of him. “Resplendent, huh?”

“Yes.” Armand looked away. “I agree to your… promise. I will remain here so long as you want me to. It was cruel to deprive you of a teacher.”

“I’m not looking for a teacher.” A thousand warning lights went off. Armand was there, listening in as Lestat waxed-poetic about how Marius had taught him so much. Lestat displayed some top-notch cognitive dissonance between that and recounting the memories Armand had shared with him. That terrified child in a monster’s arms. The strict teacher whose punishments were only rivaled by his rewards.

“A protector then?” Armand’s brow knit when Daniel shook his head. “An outlet for vengeance? Arun?”

“None of that. I just want you. Just be around.” Daniel reached out a hand. “You used to like my company a whole lot.”

Armand stared at the hand until Daniel gave up and dropped it.

“Okay,” Daniel said. “This is just pissing me off now. And, because at least one of us had some personal growth in the last few decades, I’m deciding not to pick a fight about it. So, I’m gonna go eat someone and you’re not gonna slink away, right? You promised.”

“Many would say my promises are worth nothing.” Armand watched as Daniel dressed, eyes trailing across him without blinking. Daniel would do anything to keep that attention. He wanted to preen and worship at Armand’s feet.

“Not a promise then,” Daniel shrugged. “A wish. You’ve always been pretty keen on granting those. I wish for you to be here when I get back.”

“And if I’m not?”

Daniel bit back a curse. Why did it always have to be so difficult? A hundred arguments had started just like this. One little crack in the wall and the room would flood with resentment. He leveled Armand with a cold look. “Then I’ll know I’m officially abandoned. I’m not fighting with you. Stop being difficult. Leave or stay, it’s up to you.”

“But you want me to stay.”

“Godammit, Armand.” Daniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I want you to stay. No, I’m not forcing you. Yes, I’m mad. No, I’m not gonna fucking punish you or whatever. I’m a fucking toddler that woke up like ten minutes ago, that’s all you're getting until I eat.”

“Very well.” Armand settled back against the headboard.

***

The kill was a mess. He regretted his decision the second he left the hotel. Armand could already be gone. All because Daniel couldn’t keep it together for one conversation. Maybe he’d overestimated his “personal growth”. At least he hadn’t reheated their old arguments. No yelling. Going out for a bite wasn’t running away like old times. Baby steps. As long as Armand was willing to take them too.

He paused outside the room and felt for the intangible spot where the bond lived. Still buzzy, alive. That was a good sign. He gave it a rough tug before barging inside and went straight for the bed. He froze.

Armand wasn’t there. The sheets were still rumpled, proof that Armand had finally shown himself. Proof that Armand had chosen to abandon him for real. He let out a broken sound, hand going to grip at the amulet. He would break it. One last attempt to keep his maker, one last attempt to have his baby back—

“Daniel.” Arms wrapped around his back. “Fledgling, calm down.”

“Armand,” Daniel rasped, turning to fold him into an embrace. “You’re here. Why the fuck weren’t you in bed. Gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“I disposed of the body from yesterday." Armand held him firmly. “I would not abandon you. My one and only.”

“Good,” Daniel found himself sniffling, holding back tears. “You’re an asshole.”

Armand released him and took several steps back. “So you’ve said, multiple times.”

“No.” Daniel chased after him. “Come here.”

Armand was stiff as Daniel hugged him again. “Are you sure?”

“Sure of what?” Daniel bunched the fabric of Armand’s shirt in his fists. “We’ve established I want you here.”

“And we’ve established you are angry.”

Daniel laughed bitterly. “I am. I’m mad that you stole what was mine. You carved a hole in my chest then left it empty long enough for the edges to bow in. It fucking hurts when I think about it.”

“I didn’t steal the memories.” Armand’s hands very slowly came to rest at the small of Daniel’s back. “It wasn’t supposed to hurt. I wanted you to have a life. And you did. A family and a career.”

“I didn’t want that shit.” Daniel squeezed Armand. “And I didn’t mean the memories. You stole yourself. You spent years letting me in, letting me stake a claim on you. My baby, my monster, my devil. And then you took it all away.”

The anger took over. He pushed away from Armand, then let out a wounded sound before steeping right back into his embrace. He couldn’t bear to be apart, not now.

“Hmm. Perhaps fledglings are prone to mood swings. There is a way to track your mood on my iPad. You may find it helpful.”

Daniel couldn’t stop the surprised laughter that burst out of him. He let Armand go and sat at the edge of the bed, unable to stop until there were tears running down his cheeks.

“I’ve always been like this,” he finally said. “An emotional mess. You loved me for it.”

Armand’s face went soft. “Some things do not change, no matter how much time passes. Do you feel like a mess now?”

“Of course.” Daniel smeared blood across his cheeks when he wiped at the tears.

“Would you let me…” Armand shook his head lightly. “Nevermind. I will finish removing the body.”

“I’ll let you,” Daniel said immediately. “Whatever it is, I’ll let you. You’re here.”

Armand looked seconds from shattering as he stepped closer. “Then I’ll bathe you.”

Yes. Daniel followed Armand to the bathroom. Deja-vu warped the fragility of the moment. The last time Armand did this, he left. Daniel tugged at the bond, perhaps a little too rough. Armand cringed, hand going to his midriff.

“Sorry,” Daniel said. “Got mad. Last time you scrubbed me down like a dog, you disappeared.”

Armand nodded. The tub filled quickly, Armand must be mindfucking the water of all things. Or maybe he was just desperate to do this act of service, to prove himself to Daniel. “Perhaps one day, I can rewire that association. If you’ll allow it.”

“Stop talking like that. Like I’m your master or something. It’s still me. Your boy.” Daniel stripped off his clothes, tossed them aside, and got in the tub. “If you loved my mood swings then, you can love—” He cut himself off with a wince. Too soon for that. Not when he was such a mess. “I’m still mad.”

“You always will be.” Armand slunk closer and tugged at the hem of his shirt. “I could… make it up to you?”

“We’re not fucking,” Daniel said. “But you can get in if you want to. And I won’t always be mad. So dramatic. Just don’t leave me again. Reckless leaving your fledgling alone like that.”

Armand peeled out of his clothes. Unfairly beautiful. Daniel wanted to learn over and touch, to press their bodies together. More proof that Armand was real.

“I didn’t leave you alone.” Armand tucked himself on the opposite side of the tub, curled up tight. “I was here to ensure your safety.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that. Not for sure. You remember the chase? When I told you that every time I laid eyes on you, I knew I wasn’t going mad? It was that all over again. So all the fucked up emotions from then, the fear of losing my mind when it’s the one fucking thing I have going for me… It was putting a mirror up to a mirror. Madness reverberating back into madness.” Daniel splashed water at Armand, petulant. “I don’t know how to describe it. It sucked. And you should know better. It was just like before. Do you remember when you burned those records? I’m one of the really fucked up ones. And I thought vampirism was going to fix me. A miracle cure.”

“I told you it wasn’t,” Armand whispered. “You begged for it anyway.”

“I know. I admit my fault in the toxic spiral of our youth. Or my youth at least. But then I show up in Dubai, you’re in the room when I tell Louis I don’t want the Gift, and you do it anyway. Explain that one. And wash the grime out of your hair.”

Daniel used the mind gift to get a tiny bottle of shampoo from the sink. The bond surged with… pride? Was Armand pleased with his power? He threw the bottle at Armand. It smacked into his chest and fell into the water.

“When was the last time you showered?” The harsh bathroom light only made Armand’s state clearer. Sure the blood helped, but the exhaustion lingered. “Don’t wanna talk?”

“Not everyone has a grand command over words.” Armand fished out the shampoo and picked at the label. “I’m thinking.”

“Don’t do that. You’re gonna twist yourself in knots trying to figure out what I want to hear. And get washed. I’m not letting you touch me until you’re done. I think washing my hair with a year of blood under your claws is counter-intuitive.”

Armand glanced at his nails and frowned. “I suppose you have a point.”

He ducked under the water, getting his hair wet, before gently massaging the shampoo into his curls. Daniel longed to take over, to get his hands on Armand again. His silky curls. But it felt more important to have Armand do this. Self-care or whatever. So he watched as Armand worked, letting unease in the bond sit as the bathwater went cloudy with grime.

“We should refresh the bath.” Armand stared at the space between them. The bond ached like an old wound.

“I think we can just switch to a shower.”

Armand stayed quiet as the tub drained, still curled up against the side. When Daniel held out a hand, this time Armand took it. He nudged Armand into the shower, letting him rinse for a moment before joining him. Armand’s gaze trailed across his body before settling on the tiles.

“Are you sure?”

“Extemely. Scrub me down, boss. Just like old times.” He turned towards the showerhead, unable to take the softness in Armand’s eyes. This wasn’t a guarantee of anything yet. Armand might leave again.

Armand was gentle with him. Only the lightest touches. He worked tangles out of Daniel’s curls before scratching at his scalp, sending a happy shiver down his back. Perfect hands ran across his skin, massaging gently as they went, dipping down to his chest, his hips and—

“Woah.” Daniel caught the hand that had grazed the base of his cock. “You don’t gotta do that.”

“What if I want to?” Armand sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not doing it to appease you. I only missed you.”

“Yeah? And whose fault is that?” Daniel grumbled.

“Mine. I left you.” Armand pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Mine.”

Lust sent blood south. Of course. Naked in the shower with his old lover. Fledgling libido in the mix too. Inevitable. And he wanted. No one ever touched him like Armand. Reverent.

“Yours,” Daniel gasped when fangs teased his neck. “Mine too. Please.”

Armand palmed his cock, stroking gently as it hardened. “Did you miss this?”

“I missed you.” Daniel whined when Armand’s hand left him.

“Aren’t you angry?”

“I can miss you and be mad at the same time.” Daniel took a deep breath and turned around. Armand’s gaze dropped to the floor. Not good, fuck. “I’m trying not to get caught up in our old dance.”

“You don’t want to dance with me anymore?”

“Not like that. We were always stepping on each other’s feet. I wanna slow dance. Nice and easy.” Daniel took Armand’s hands and squeezed them before placing them on his hips. He wrapped his arms over Armand’s shoulders and rocked slightly from side to side.

Armand finally met his eyes. “I love you.”

The bond did something akin to an explosion. The shockwave knocked some memories free. Near the end, Armand would nearly wince when Daniel said he loved him. He pulled Armand closer. “Why does it hurt to say it then? If you’re not repulsed, if you miss being with me…”

Armand moved one of his hands to cup Daniel’s face. His eyes shook again. “You do not love me back.”

Daniel scoffed. “Who said that? Just because I’m angry? How many times did I piss you off back then? And you still loved me.”

“Back then, perhaps. Between your desire for the blood and your lust, there might have been love.” Armand smiled so sadly. Daniel shoved him back. He shut off the water and threw a towel at Armand.

“Don’t you dare downplay it. I loved you completely. You don’t get to say what I felt, what I feel now. So yeah, I love you now too. Even right now while you’re pissing me off. How’s that for whatever theories you're making up in your head? I love you.”

The bond ached again, a sort of pulsing hurt like a bleeding wound. Armand pressed his eyes closed just a tear escaped. Daniel wiped it away.

“Listen to me,” he said, “we’ll figure this out. I know it hurts. Healing’s like that sometimes. Remember when I hit you with a crowbar? Like that.”

Armand let out a sound halfway between a laugh and sob. “I am sorry. Whether or not you believe it.”

“Look at that! An apology. I went out instead of yelling and you learned to apologize. We’re already doing better.”

“Daniel,” Armand’s voice broke as he surged forward. He pressed their lips together and back Daniel into the nearest wall. Daniel held him close. Fuck, his cock ached with need, blood rushing to fill him out. He could feel Armand hard against him, rocking slightly as he kissed Daniel like he was trying to consume him. “Love me.”

“Yeah,” Daniel pressed the word against Armand’s neck. He bit in slightly, just a tease, then pulled back.

“Love me,” Armand repeated, eyes bright and narrowed. “You claim it’s true, so love me.”

“I do,” Daniel ran his hands across Armand’s back. “I am.”

“Well, do it better.” Armand tugged Daniel out of the bathroom and shoved him down on the mattress. “Show me. You say I’m yours, prove it.”

“How the fuck am I meant to do that?” Daniel shifted into a more comfortable position as Armand settled in the chair again, watching. “You want me to jerk off like old times? How is that showing that you’re mine?”

Armand shrugged. “The burden of proof is not on me.”

“Oh?” The anger surged again. “So I have to do all the work. And I’m just supposed to take your love as a given?”

Armand was out of the chair and on top of Daniel in half a second. “I have protected you for half a century. I have granted your every wish, even your neverending pleas for eternity. My blood runs through your veins, and you dare to doubt me?”

Daniel felt the urge to fight back. It wasn’t a fair argument. Unfortunately, hearing that also made his cock leak. He let out a tiny whimper. Why fight? Armand’s love might just be a given. Daniel had been Armand’s since the beginning, before any blood exchange. “Alright. I’m yours.”

Armand made to return to his chair, but Daniel grasped his hips. Two could play at this game. He used the momentary surprise to flip them over so he was straddling Armand, then dug a wound in his wrist. He let the blood fall across Armand’s cock before taking them both in hand and stroking slowly.

“Oh, beloved.” Armand relaxed back into the sheets. “Please, more.”

Daniel ducked down to kiss him. How sweet, how perfect. Almost too good to be true. He quickened his hand between them. Some broken part of him still feared it was a dream. But, he could feel the sharp claws digging into his back, grounding. He nicked Armand’s tongue and moaned at the taste of blood. Armand returned the favor and tugged him down so they were pressed flush together. Daniel couldn’t even move his hand, but it didn’t matter. He could feel Armand.

The bond was buzzing between them. Not an explosion, something soft sending warmth across Daniel’s body. All sorts of emotions peeked through the blood. Lust and guilt and desire. Affection and fear and longing. Daniel rutted his hips down, humping Armand like an unruly dog as he drank him down. It was Armand that pushed Daniel away first, gasping and panting as he stared up at him.

“Beloved.” Armand traced his fingers over Dnaiel’s mouth, sneaking inside to outline his fangs. His pupils were blown wide, mouth slightly parted in awe. “My fledgling.”

Daniel caught the hand and kissed each finger. “My maker. My baby. Mine.”

Armand’s eyes were shaking again. He crushed Daniel against his chest hard enough to hear the crunch of bone. Daniel moaned at the pain, moving his hips frantically, body crying out.

“Stay still,” Armand soothed. “You’ll hurt yourself, little fledgling. Lay back.”

Daniel rolled off Armand, whimpering as the cracked bones slowly healed. Armand was so gentle as he spread Daniel’s legs and traced down and down to circle Daniel’s hole.

“Oh my god.”

“Not God.” Armand kissed across his chest. “I give myself to you.”

“Mine.” Daniel nodded. “Please.”

Armand made a cut on Daniel’s leg, collected the blood, and gently rubbed against Daniel’s hole with the tips of his fingers. He pressed the first in slowly, a shudder going through both of them. Daniel whined and shifted his hips, trying to breach himself further. Armand tutted and flicked the tip of his cock cruelly.

“Won’t you behave, beloved?” Armand added a second finger, working perhaps a little too fast, but Daniel loved the ache. “Good boy.”

Tears welled up at the pride that shot through Daniel. He did his best to stay still as Armand added a third finger. So far, he’d been purposefully avoiding Daniel’s prostate, only brushing it slightly with a wry smile.

“Baby, please,” Daniel did his best puppy-eyes, “I need you. And you need me. I can feel it, can’t you?”

“Yes.” Armand withdrew his fingers, instead pressing them below his ribs. “I feel you, my one and only. Like a part of you lives inside me.”

“Exactly.” Daniel snatched a pillow and tucked it under his hips, made the angle perfect and enticing. “It’s the same for me. But I could use another part of you inside me at the moment.”

Armand blinked a few times before breaking out into inelegant laughter. He gripped at his stomach and ducked his head. Daniel felt torn apart watching it. Somehow, he fell more in love every time he heard that intoxicating laugh. Pretty crinkles at the sides of Armand’s eyes as he grinned, those lovely smile lines.

“Beloved, you’ve rather spoiled the mood with your tacky lines.” Armand kissed him, just a light peck. Daniel tried to chase it, but Armand pressed him back down.

“Mood is even better now if you ask me.” Lighter, less heavy. Just them, laughing in bed together. How long had it been? Oh, they would fight again, get lost in the cloud of emotions, but this was them in their purest form. Happy. “I need you.”

“Okay,” Armand lined himself up. He met Daniel’s eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too—oh…” Daniel grabbed at any part of Armand he could reach. It was perfect, being claimed by his lover again. Belonging and care and fitting just right. Armand didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside Daniel. He only spared time for another chaste kiss before he was pistoning his hips at full force.

Daniel yelped and held on for dear life. The feeling was indescribable. It wasn’t just the bond. All the softness from decades prior was dancing between them. The love and pain and relief, yes the relief of being together again. He pulled Armand down so their foreheads rested together and let Armand have his way. Bliss.

“My boy,” Armand whispered, words shaky, but sure. “My Daniel.”

Awe slipped through the bond, like Armand could hardly believe it either. How long had they waited for this? How many strange nights had Daniel stared at himself in the mirror and wondered about the gaping wound in his chest?

“Come on, baby,” Daniel encouraged. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”

Armand sobbed as he came, rocking slowly through the aftershocks. His usual grace was absent as he snuck a hand between them to stroke Daniel. Not the coordinated, purposeful methods he usually stuck too. It was a little sloppy, a little too loose, but somehow that only made it better. Daniel rocked up gently into his hand, whimpering as he finally spilled over those lovely fingers.

He pulled Armand against him immediately, shuddering at the overstimulation when his softening cock rubbed against Armand’s stomach.

“Beloved,” Armand buried his face in Daniel’s neck.

“Yes,” Daniel grazed his claws over Armand’s spine. “Right here. And I’m always gonna be here. Even when we fight, we’ll figure it the fuck out. We’re not doing that shit all over again. So good fucking luck getting rid of me now.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Armand nipped at his neck. “You wished for me to be yours.”

“Not wishing. I knew it.” Daniel pressed a kiss to Armand’s head. “You were meant to be mine from the start.”

Armand looked up at him then, chin resting over Daniel’s heart. His eyes were honey-warmed and soft. “Centuries at sea without an anchor, and then I met you. My harbor, shoreline, salvation. Meant to be yours.”

No one had ever likened Daniel to an anchor. But who else would be worth holding onto? Just Armand, his Armand. Made for each other. Daniel kissed him. “Damn right you are.”