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Chapter Text

"Geoffrey, I'm serious, this is pointless!" Reid shouted for the tenth time as Geoffrey lashed out with his sword.

"Put my name out of your fucking mouth!" he retorted aggressively, matching his voice with another blow that missed its target by an inch. Geoffrey growled in frustration, whirling around to face the wisps of shadow materializing into his enemy.

"We have the same goal! Why don't you understand? McCullum, I beg you!" Reid pleaded as he kept avoiding Geoffrey's relentless attacks. The leech was begging? Pathetic.

"I won't fall for your petty show, beast. I found enough evidence to be sure you and Swansea caused the epidemic! So fucking face me already!" Geoffrey barked angrily as the rather one-sided fight went on. Why wasn't the leech jumping him? He knew how much Reid wanted to get past him to rescue Swansea. By all means he should be trying to kill Geoffrey. But instead he just continued dodging, not reaching out to hurt him even once. It had to be a trick. Geoffrey would never trust a monster.

"We're losing precious time!" Reid repeated, but Geoffrey ignored him, instead firing a crossbow bolt at him. The leech hissed as it hit his shoulder, and Geoffrey started to grin. It wouldn't take much longer to break the beast. He could see it on his face. Reid was slowly losing his patience, and if Geoffrey kept pushing, he'd reveal the monster soon enough. He didn't expect that moment to come this soon though.

With a snarl Reid pulled the arrow out of his shoulder, letting it clatter to the floor. For a second Geoffrey got a glimpse of very sharp fangs as he gritted his teeth, before the leech's expression turned from desperation into a serious frown.

"I can't lose any more time. Please, McCullum, step aside. It's my last warning."

Taken aback by the sudden change of atmosphere, Geoffrey stilled in his movements. Just for a blink of an eye though.

"Never!" he growled, already raising his sword for a fatal blow to Reid's neck.

"I'm sorry then. But you asked for it." Reid's voice resounded deeply inside his head as Geoffrey's blade sliced through shadow. The next moment he felt a hand grabbing his throat roughly and pushing him backwards. For a short moment he stared right into Reid's pale eyes that must've been blue once. The righteous joy of having succeeded in breaking the leech succumbed quickly as Geoffrey realized he was going to die.

He knew it was over as cold fingers shoved the fabric of his scarf away, revealing the tender skin of his neck. Geoffrey braced himself for the pain as a pair of long fangs pierced his flesh. A hungry growl escaped the vampire's throat as it swallowed the first drops of Geoffrey's blood. Geoffrey shut his eyes, unable to escape the monster's tight grip. He'd die for his principles then. So be it. Priwen would prevail where he failed. Priwen would prevail without him. He could leave in peace, knowing he did his best. Carl would welcome him with open arms.

Geoffrey's eyes flew wide open as Reid suddenly pulled back. The pain was there, stinging and burning, but the fangs were gone and Geoffrey was alive. He quickly slapped the open wound with his free hand, frantically scurrying backwards while watching the leech in confusion.

"Let that be... your lesson, hunter. I'll leave... now..." Though Reid had certainly meant that to come out as a warning, his voice was oddly trembling and he looked somewhat... dazed. As if he wasn't quite present at the moment, but somewhere else entirely. Geoffrey warily raised his sword at him with a shaking hand.

The monster was still standing in front of him, unmoving, its eyes seeming to glow with the faintest red. Or was Geoffrey imagining it? The leech licked its bloodied lips, closing its eyes as it savoured the taste. Geoffrey knew, if he wanted a chance to strike the beast, it was now. But then Reid suddenly moved again, hectically shaking his head.

"No, no, no. Not him, no," he muttered with a panicked voice and Geoffrey hesitated, frowning deeply as Reid unexpectedly turned his back to him.

"Geoffrey, run, please. You have to run. Now! Please!" He sounded desperate, afraid even, Geoffrey didn't know what to make of that unusual behavior. But he knew one thing. A leech with its back to Geoffrey meant a dead leech. Always.

Against his better judgement his blade cut into Reid's shoulder so deeply, it almost severed his left arm. But the beast made no sound, no movement. A cold shiver went down Geoffrey's spine as Reid slowly turned around, the sword stuck inside him.

"So delicious..." His voice was unlike anything Geoffrey had ever heard from him. Rough and throaty, inhuman. It was the look on his face that made his heart skip a beat, though. He'd never seen the eyes of a beast consumed so violently by hunger.

As if it was nothing, the vampire grabbed the blade of Geoffrey's sword and removed it from his flesh, throwing it aside. The cut was healing almost immediately. Geoffrey stepped back, fidgeting while reloading his crossbow. The nervosity was unusual for him. But the creature in front of him stalking him with those horrid eyes... that was no longer the pretentious doctor he had dealt with a few moments ago. And the aura of strength he suddenly emitted... Geoffrey had assumed the beast was a prodigy of William Marshall, but he hadn't wanted it to be true. Because if that was the case, he was no match for him, not even with the blood of King Arthur. Geoffrey wouldn't run though. He was not a coward.

"Must have... more..."

Geoffrey fired his bolt too late as Reid launched at him fangs first, pushing him down to the ground. Geoffrey wheezed in pain at the impact on the floor, but he knew something much more worse was coming. As the vampire's teeth ripped into his neck this time, he realized something.

Reid had wanted to leave a warning the first time. He hadn't intended to kill him. He had been gentle even, sinking his fangs into Geoffrey's skin just as much as he had needed to. This time, though, Geoffrey knew it was his death. Reid's instincts had overwhelmed him and the tear in his neck alone would be fatal for him.

"Fucking monster..." Geoffrey still managed to gurgle as he felt the beast above him, pinning him to the ground with its own body, feeding on Geoffrey's blood ravenous.

Then everything went dark around him.

When Geoffrey awoke with a heavy headache and strains all over his body, it sadly wasn't in heaven. No. He couldn't believe his eyes as he slowly sat up.

He was in fucking Pembroke, in a fucking hospital bed, as a fucking patient.

Hell, he'd have preferred death. Why the fuck was he still alive?

Geoffrey groaned as bright spots tainted his vision and made him fall back into the measly bed which who the fuck knows how many people died on. His neck was throbbing painfully and he noticed a thick bandage when he raised his hand to touch the bite wound. As he squinted his eyes he noticed the thin tube leading from his arm to a half empty blood bag.

"Fucking hell..." Geoffrey growled and grabbed it to rip it away from him, but a voice interrupted his actions.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A stern looking nurse entered the open side wing of the hospital, shooting a sharp glance at Geoffrey.

"Unless you want to die, that is. You lost a lot of blood." She approached him, adjusting the tube he'd tinkered with.

"Tell me something I don't know..." Geoffrey let himself be pushed back into the bed reluctantly with a grumble.

"Mr Wellford, right? Dr Reid mentioned as much as he found you in the streets. I'm Nurse Hawkins," the nurse informed him, avoiding to look at his face. Wellford...? Who the fuck was that supposed to be...? Geoffrey was just about to voice his irritation as he realized he probably would not have received any treatment if Reid had gotten him here under his real name as the leader of Priwen who just ambushed the hospital. Fucking sly bastard...

"Found me in the streets?" If it hadn't hurt, Geoffrey would've raised both eyebrows. The audacity of the beast... Why would he bother to get Geoffrey treated? Unless he knew how much it tortured him to be restricted in a hospital...

"Yes. You were attacked by... a rather vicious creature, or so the doctor phrased it. Soaked with blood he was. Both of you." She threw him a wary glance and Geoffrey grimaced.

"What exactly do you know about him?" he then asked, checking to see if the nurse had more knowledge than she should have. Hawkins shrugged.

"A doctor like any other. Maybe a little more ambitious, doing rounds outside the hospital as I heard. Someone told me he fought in the war. So I guess he's able to defend himself if things come down to the worst. Aside from that he's not that much special."

So she didn't know. Which was a good thing since Geoffrey preferred to keep civilians out of... vampiric matters.

"Tell me if you need anything. You'll have to stay for at least three more days," Hawkins said monotonously before turning away and walking off.

"Three days?!" Geoffrey repeated in disbelief, holding his head as the volume of his voice increased the pain.

"Great..." He gritted his teeth. Reid had it coming now. That fucker... Geoffrey would cut the beast into very small pieces before throwing him into the Thames. The picture of Reid's hungry eyes flashed in his mind and Geoffrey winced. Then he noticed a gaze on him. He turned his head to see a pale woman with disheveled black hair sitting on the bed next to his, watching him silently.

"I know what got you," she whispered as Geoffrey locked eyes with her. She looked sick. As if she wasn't eating enough.

"A vampire..." The woman smiled at him and Geoffrey furrowed his brows.

"I know because I am one," she continued unprompted and his frown deepened.

"No, you're fucking not," Geoffrey sighed exasperated. So that must be Thelma Howcroft then. She was all over their latest reports for suspicious behaviour. Still, even from afar Geoffrey could tell the woman was as human as every other of Pembroke's patients. He knew it had been a mistake to station his rookies around the hospital, they had no idea how to identify a real vampire.

Howcroft's smile fell at his words and she glared at him.

"I could crush you, if I wanted to, puny mortal!" she hissed and Geoffrey rolled his eyes. He really had no energy to deal with this right now.

"Do it, I'm waiting." He turned away to show he had no interest in the conversation.

"You're worse than Dr Reid!" she growled frustrated.

"If not for his ignorance of my superior presence, I'd make this fragile human my immortal brother!"

Geoffrey bit back a bitter laugh at the irony. He'd not heard anyone talking like that about London's most dangerous predator. Geoffrey shuddered again thinking of his eyes. Though something inside him was at peace. At first he didn't understand it. But after some time of drowning out Howcroft's senseless muttering, he realized it was his own consciousness assuring him he'd always been right about Reid.

Reid was no man, however much he pretended to be. He was a monster and he'd finally proven it to Geoffrey. Why did it bother him that much anyway? He shouldn't need prove to be sure Reid was nothing but a mindless beast. Was it because he seemed so convincingly human at times...? Those pale blue eyes so full of emotion during their fight...

Geoffrey shook his head as it started to hurt. He couldn't allow himself to think about anything like that. Reid was a leech. Period. A beast trying to impersonate a human with the goal to win Geoffrey's trust just to deceive him later on.

He sighed once more, but despite Howcroft's annoying voice in the background he felt fatigue overcoming him and sending him into an unruly sleep filled with fangs and blood.

"Fucking monster..."

The heavy red fog clouding Jonathan's senses vanished at once at those words. And when he saw clearly again, quickly retreating from the deep wound he'd caused, he looked right into Geoffrey's spiteful eyes that started to lose their shine. A heavy feeling of deja vu hit him. This was exactly how he'd killed Mary...

"No!" Jonathan hectically covered Geoffrey's neck with a shaking hand, but the blood kept spilling. He knew if he didn't act quickly enough the hunter would die. Though maybe... all hope was already lost for him. The second Jonathan heard the beast inside of him tauntingly whisper to finish what he'd started, he ripped a piece of cloth from his coat to bandage Geoffrey's neck.

"No, no, stay with me... please..." he mumbled more to himself in panic. He couldn't believe what he'd done. But Geoffrey's blood was just... Jonathan's whole body was still trembling, both with shock and the sudden bloodlust that had overwhelmed him. He covered his still extended fangs with one hand, barely restraining himself from licking the remaining blood off his lips.

Jonathan quickly pulled a mask out of his pocket to hide his mouth. He couldn't enter the hospital looking like the monster he was. Something in his chest tightened painfully. Geoffrey was right. Always had been. And he'd never be able to see Jonathan as a person.

"Don't worry, you'll live... You'll live, Geoffrey." Gulping nervously and avoiding to eye Geoffrey's neck too closely, Jonathan lifted the unconscious man carefully into his arms, before shadow jumping into the elevator. Now every second counted.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." His breath hitched as he desperately tried to keep his eyes from watering with red tears. Jonathan shook himself to clear his head, begging for the elevator to move faster. He had to be professional now.

Once he reached the upper floor of the hospital, he rushed to his office and jumped from the balcony onto the street. He was lucky no one was around to witness his rather strange actions, but Jonathan couldn't bear that any thought. As fast as he assumed a human pace with the additional weight of another body to be, he rushed through the main entrance of Pembroke, making patients and staff jump aside from his path.

"Nurse Branaghan!" Jonathan called out distressed as the nurse was the closest to him on his way.

"Dr Reid?" She quickly moved closer to him to take in Geoffrey's condition, trying to assess the situation. Jonathan noticed the wary glance she threw him as she inspected their bloodied clothing and the mask he was wearing.

"He is not infected," he explained quickly and the nurse visibly relaxed.

"His life is fading, we need to prepare him for a blood transfusion and sew the wound! Type B negative!" 

"Understood!" Branaghan quickly moved away to get the equipment from the storage, taking Hawkins with her on the way. It was hard for Jonathan not to move through the hospital with his inhuman speed to get Geoffrey treated as quickly as possible. The panic almost made his body shake again as he listened to the human's slowing heartbeat.

But after a few torturingly slow minutes the hunter was lying in a hospital bed, attached to a blood bag that was his last chance of ever waking up again. Jonathan could only hope for the best now.

"Please explain the situation, Dr" Branaghan and Hawkins both looked at him in wonder and confusion while Jonathan still had problems to appear as collected as he usually was.

"He was attacked, I barely got him out. I'd provide further information, but I received evidence of Dr Swansea's whereabouts. He seems to be in serious trouble, so I must find him immediately. Please take care of... Mr Wellford until I return!" was all he managed to get out, before striding away to the exit. Although it pained him to leave Geoffrey like that, he had to get Edgar out of the theater. Even his inner beast snarled in reluctance. What for, though? Did it want to drain Geoffrey to the last drop or let him recover to feed from him again?

Jonathan shook his head to ignore those distracting thoughts. More than often it was hard to understand his new instincts. But he wanted the hunter to recover too. He didn't quite apprehend why, but he liked the other man. There was no one else he wanted to be more respected by than Geoffrey McCullum. It was a strange wish, but one Jonathan had had since his first meeting with the gruff Irishman.

He had wanted Geoffrey to be his ally. He had wanted to gain his trust to show him he was still a person.

But Jonathan knew he'd blown these chances in a split second.

Geoffrey had known Jonathan was a monster.

And now Jonathan knew too. 

A week passed before Geoffrey ran again into the leech that called itself Jonathan Reid.

Until then he'd found himself struggling with an inner turmoil. For nights and nights the fight on the attic had replayed in his head. And each time Geoffrey had wondered about Reid's behaviour more. He especially remembered those short moments where the leech had begged him to run away. Or how he'd talked to himself...

"No. Not him, please..."

Those odd words kept resounding in his mind. Geoffrey knew vampires were unable to control their bloodlust. That's why they were a threat to humanity that needed to be exterminated after all. But Reid had seriously seemed like he hadn't wanted to attack Geoffrey willingly. He hadn't before, but once the beast had tasted Geoffrey's blood...

Reid was confusing him and Geoffrey hated it. He hated the weird leech doctor for constantly intruding his thoughts like that. It was mind-wrecking and Geoffrey knew he had to put an end to this. To Reid's unholy existence. And although the chances of defeating a prodigy of Marshall's was pretty low, he'd never cease to try.

Naturally the hunter tensed up as he spotted the leech exiting a run down building in Whitechapel this night, taking a few steps into a narrow alley hidden behind a few piled up barrels. Reid knew he was here. If Geoffrey followed him now, it could be his end. No, it most likely would be his end. He shivered slightly and immediately hated himself for it, as it wasn't due to the chills of the night. It was his responsibility to take out such a major threat to humanity, it was his duty to kill Reid on sight.

Preparing himself, Geoffrey slipped an orichalcum bolt into his crossbow, grabbing the hilt of his sword with one hand and his most reliable stake with the other. Then he marched with wide steps into the dark alley.

"Show yourself, leech!" he shouted as he made it past the building he'd seen Reid exit earlier. Geoffrey drew his blade as he noticed shadows moving in front of him. And from the darkness the creature emerged with an apologetic expression, standing still as it faced Geoffrey.

"Before you strike me, hunter, let me say one last thing," the vampire muttered silently and Geoffrey noted in wonder how different he seemed from their last meeting. His face was sunken in and even paler than usual. His hair was slightly disheveled and his posture was not nearly as straight as Geoffrey remembered it to be. All in all, the leech looked fucking miserable. Meagre, like he was starving and hadn't slept an hour this whole week.

When Reid carefully looked up and met Geoffrey's eyes, he saw fear in them, but also... defeat? It almost seemed like he made himself deliberately smaller than Geoffrey to appear harmless. 

He knew it could only be another trick, though. But Reid's eyes... They were full of pain. No. Geoffrey wouldn't fall for it. Reid was not human. And leeches were masters of manipulation.

"I'm not listening to animals!" Geoffrey hissed, driving the stake he'd clutched right into Reid's chest. To his surprise, the leech didn't evade the attack. A gasp escaped him, as the stake drilled through his flesh. Geoffrey cursed inwardly. He should've used more strength to break through the vampire's ribcage. How could he have miscalculated his attack like that?

The next second he suddenly realized how fucking close Reid was now. Their faces were mere inches apart as Geoffrey still held onto the stake stuck in Reid's chest. He froze in horror, the bite wound on his neck started to throb uncomfortably in phantom pain. If Reid wanted to, he only had to lean forward to feed on Geoffrey until the last drop. 

"I just wanted you to know." The leech's voice was even quieter than before, now laced with the pain he had to feel.

"I can't be forgiven for what I did. You were right about me all along. I just thought that I-..." he let out a tortured sigh and Geoffrey withdrew quickly while he still had the chance. His fight or flight instinct was currently not working and his body gave him mixed signals whether to stay where he was, run, or kill the monster in front of him. It were Reid's words, that kept him in his place. 

"I won't live like this any longer. I can't, knowing what a threat I am. I really thought I could... control it. But I am, in fact, a monster. And I want you to end it." The vampire raised his gaze at Geoffrey expectantly as he ripped the stake out of his chest and offered it back to the hunter. Reid seemed calm, but as Geoffrey focused on his outstretched hand, holding the bloodied stake, he saw it shaking slightly. He was scared. He meant it...

Geoffrey knew he was currently not responsive, staring open-mouthed at the creature in front of him. Never had he been in a situation like this before. He felt like as if he had stabbed himself instead as he looked into Reid's eyes again. If this was a trick, it was a damn good one. Geoffrey quickly averted his gaze. He knew those eyes would follow him again in his sleep.

"Please, hunter. I'm serious. I don't want to live like this anymore." Geoffrey was unable to move, thousands of thoughts whirling through his head at once. He didn't dare to think of the obvious: What if Reid was actually serious? 

But that would mean he cared about the well-being of other humans. And that meant he still had emotions and a sense of responsibility. Which meant he was a person. Which meant Geoffrey had been wrong. And that meant-...

His sequence of thoughts was once again interrupted by Reid.

"Kill me, hunter. You're the only one I could ask this of. And you're the only one by whose hand I wish to die." The whisper of his voice made Geoffrey's eyes widen. He pushed every contradicting thought away as he stepped back and raised his crossbow at the vampire, not touching the stake he was still holding out to him.

It was a trick. It had to be. Geoffrey's world would crumble to pieces if it wasn't.

"Then die, beast." His own voice sounded hoarse, barely able to produce the words, as he pulled the trigger.

"No!!" The same moment a woman with pure terror on her face stumbled out of the building next to them, Reid turned in confusion and the bolt hit his shoulder instead of piercing the hole Geoffrey's stake at caused.

"You can't kill him!" The woman, who oddly looked like one of Pembroke's nurses, approached them quickly to put herself between Geoffrey and Reid. She wore a bloodied apron and spoke with a Romanian accent. One look at Reid confirmed he was as dumbfounded as Geoffrey by her sudden appearance and hadn't planned this as some sort of distraction. If his facial expression was to be believed that was...

"Step aside, Miss. You don't know what you're dealing with," Geoffrey warned her like he would an ordinary civilian.

"No! You don't understand! If he dies, the city will perish!" she shouted at him. Geoffrey frowned deeply while the vampire lowered his eyes at the floor in what seemed to be guilt.

"Listen, I know Dr Reid is... different. But frankly I don't care at the moment, because without him, most districts would fall apart immediately!" she elaborated before Geoffrey would get the idea to shove her aside to simply finish the job.

"You know what you're protecting then?" Geoffrey wouldn't give Reid the satisfaction to refer to him as a person.

"I... have my theories." The woman hesitated, but she didn't seem as afraid as the typical human discovering the existence of vampires.

"Whatever your deal is, with you killing him, I don't care about it, as long as its not during the epidemic!" she then scolded him.

"Dorothy, I don't think it's wise to-..." Reid tried to cut in awkwardly, but was interrupted harshly.

"Jonathan, shut up! And don't expect me to apologize for my language!" The nurse turned to him with an angry glare.

"Do you have any idea how many people all over London rely on your medication? I could abandon my dispensary right this moment if that Irish gentleman had killed you!" She turned back to Geoffrey in spite.

"If you both wish to end his life, fine. But know you'll have the blood of many citizens on your hands! If you kill him after we're out of this mess, that's your business." With that she turned away, leaving them as quickly as she had stormed out of the building. 

It was quiet for a very long time. Reid was still staring at the dirty ground and Geoffrey started to count the stakes on his chest strap to somewhat calm him down.

"I'm sorry... I guess." The leech suddenly cleared his throat, looking even more awful than before he was hit by a stake and a crossbow bolt that he at least had removed by now.

"I didn't want to put you in this situation." He sounded honest, but Geoffrey wouldn't trust him.

"Oh, really?" he responded bitterly.

"Almost looked like you planned the whole thing. Making me doubt my desire to end your unlife... Letting you live because all those people depend on you. You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" Geoffrey accused him, though he had already noticed that the nurse had not been mesmerized. But what was Reid playing at? The leech carefully looked up at him, his back still hunched. If he didn't want the confrontation he could easily scare Geoffrey away with another bite or those horrid claws he knew the vampire possessed.

"I... I am a doctor. I swore an oath..." Reid muttered in pain, though his wounds had closed already.

"No... You're not a doctor. Either you're making folks depend on you so I cannot stop you from roaming London freely, or you want to enhance their blood quality. Maybe both." Geoffrey narrowed his eyes at him and Reid suddenly stared at him in utter horror.

"That's it, then? The ultimate meal, lied out in front of you. Perfectly planned, perfectly prepared for you to enjoy after your hard work of tending to your cattle's needs and worries," he taunted the leech, but every word made him feel worse as he watched Reid becoming smaller and smaller under his gaze. He looked like as if he wanted to cry. Yet Geoffrey kept going. He wouldn't show any sympathy for a creature like that.

"Don't try to fool me, leech. I know how your kind likes their prey best. How human blood becomes rich and unfolds its full potential once you know everything you can about a person and made sure they're well and healthy. I've seen some of those relationships." Suddenly feeling like he had the upper hand, Geoffrey started to pace in front of Reid in a threatening manner.

"But you sicken me the most, beast. Never have I met one like you that tries to devour the whole of London like that."

Reid looked so broken, Geoffrey started to seriously wonder why he hadn't vanished into the shadows to disappear already, or more likely, went for his throat. Why would he willingly put himself to listen to Geoffrey's horrible words? Unless he thought he deserved them... And that was what brought Geoffrey to a question that had pained him since the day of their fight.

"Answer me, leech. Why didn't you finish me off?"

"Despite what you might think of me," Reid responded quietly, eyebrows furrowed deeply.

"I never wanted to kill anyone."

Geoffrey raised one brow in disbelief, so the leech continued.

"I know you're a good man, McCullum. Losing you in these hard times would be fatal. We're working for the same cause after all." He finished his sentence with a small nod, waiting for Geoffrey to either shoot him or say something in return. The hunter sighed, long and exasperated, before holstering his crossbow. He couldn't kill Reid now that he had two sources of information confirming the leech was indeed tending to London's residents in every district.

"If this is supposed to work, you need to follow a few rules," he hissed warningly and Reid looked up to him in relief. Geoffrey tried to ignore the way hope shimmered in those pale orbs.

"First and foremost: Stay out of my fucking way. If I see you anywhere you're not supposed to be, I'll separate your fucking head from your shoulders. Second, if I catch you draining a person, I'll teach you the term minced vampire meat. And third," he held up three fingers to underline his statement.

"Once the epidemic is over, I will end you. There's no way around it." Any ordinary being would now turn away and nope out of this deal as quickly as possible, or at least try to finish Geoffrey off instead, but all he got from Reid was an eager nod.

"Deal!" he said, extending his hand towards Geoffrey. The hunter frowned, neither trusting the beast to not pull him in and bite his neck nor feeling alright with grabbing that dead hand.

"I'm not touching you, leech. But mark my words." With that Geoffrey turned away, leaving Reid standing where he was. Even though the vampire seemed genuine, Geoffrey couldn't rely on him to not jump him right this moment. Still, in some ways, the leech's actions spoke for themselves. 

His men would return to the base with broken bones, bruises and concussions, but they returned. Not once did he receive a record of Reid killing one of them, not even in self-defense. No claw marks, no bite wounds, Geoffrey could only assume how much focus it took from the vampire to not lash out against the guard when cornered. And even though he wouldn't believe Reid's words if he told him he never fed from humans, his eyes told the truth. They were unlike any other Geoffrey had seen on a vampire, clear and untainted. Almost human.

Geoffrey shook his head. Now he'd made a deal with the leech. Great. As if his life wasn't complicated enough already. Good, he hated Reid so much for not being an ordinary leech for him to finish off and not spare another thought. But inwardly he knew, the image of the leech doctor would pop up in his mind a lot more often from now on.

Chapter Text

The next week after his fight with Geoffrey, Jonathan found his emotions and his will to live spiraling downwards continuously. To have bitten Geoffrey and destroyed the small chance of ever being trusted by the man had upset him enough. And when he'd found Swansea in the theatre, barely breathing and then dying in his arms, Jonathan had almost lost control. It's too late now anyways, the beast inside him had whispered. You don't have to pretend anymore. There's no one left to accept you as a person. Let go and quench your thirst...

And Jonathan almost had when he'd faced the brutes responsible for Edgar's death. All was lost anyway... There was no more use in denying he was a monster, now that Jonathan was very much aware of that fact himself. His fangs had been pulsing inside his mouth, long and sharp. Ready to tear their throats, eager to taste more blood. But then he'd seen Geoffrey in his mind. Lying in that hospital bed, his eyes closed. It was that moment Jonathan had realized he wanted to die. He wanted to die by McCullum's hands. And he wanted to die feeling as human as his nature would allow him. So he knocked out the guards at the theatre before returning to the Pembroke with Edgar's body.

And tonight would be the night of his death. He knew it once he sensed the hunter. It didn't scare Jonathan to know it was going to be over soon. He looked forward to it instead. The hunter's smell was alluring and... soothing in a way Jonathan hadn't expected. He couldn't express how glad he was Geoffrey survived. Even looking into his gruff face and glaring eyes, as he followed him into the alley, made Jonathan sure of his decision. Although the hunter's scarf mostly covered the severe bite wound, he could still spot the edges of a week old scar beneath. His heart skipped a beat. Now that he knew what Geoffrey's blood tasted like, he wanted it again. All of it. But at the same time, Jonathan's feral instincts told him to step forward and take Geoffrey into his arms and snarl at everything that moved too close to him. Jonathan quickly shook his head. He was here to do neither of that. He was here to finally die.

He truly hadn't expected Nurse Crane to jump in for him. He'd just exited the dispensary to deliver medication when Geoffrey had shown up in his field of vision. But Dorothy's point made sense, although Jonathan wished it weren't true. He'd abandon all of his patients, not even including his mother and Avery. God, his wish to die was selfish... but if he was a threat to anyone near him...? There simply was no optimal solution to this situation. And Geoffrey let him go. Involuntarily, but he did offer him a deal. One that Jonathan was more than happy with. And his inner beast seemed to be excited to. About to be able to possibly taste the hunter's blood again once Jonathan lost control? He'd make sure for that to never happen, though. Not again. He'd stay away from Geoffrey, just as the other man wished. Jonathan's only job was to tend to the sick and end the epidemic. And then Geoffrey would redeem him.

With the smell of the hunter still lingering in the air after he left, Jonathan noticed just how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten anything this whole week and it suddenly got hard to restrain himself, his instincts urging him to go hunting immediately. Not Geoffrey, though it was tempting... Jonathan quickly snapped out of it. The graveyard. He had to satisfy himself with a few Skals to stop fantasizing about trapping Geoffrey by his throat and sinking his fangs into him once again.

Geoffrey couldn't believe his eyes as he stared onto white curtains blowing in the wind, letting faint sun rays shining through the opened window into a wide room.

He hadn't had this dream in a long while. But god, had he missed it. Every day since his fight with Reid he'd been plagued by scenes from the attic in his sleep. How many times had he relived the moment where the beast had grabbed his chin and sunken its fangs into Geoffrey's neck? Sometimes he could still feel the pain when he awoke.

But this dream was familiar. And he embraced it. Geoffrey had always been a very lucid dreamer, though it was a curse sometimes to remember a dream in its entirety when he was awake. Yet he loved the dream of the white curtains. 

It was everything he ever saw in that dream. But he knew he was lying in a soft bed with a silky blanket. And he could always feel the body of another man behind him, his arms wrapped around Geoffrey's chest. Sometimes Geoffrey could see hands, when they were idly stroking his skin or hair, interlacing with his own if he was lucky. Those hands were large, not quite as broad as Geoffrey's own, but those gentle fingers were long and elegant, often dancing over his skin in light feathered touches.

How often had Geoffrey tried to turn around to see the face of the man behind him...? But every time he did, he'd wake up and the dream would dissolve. And considering how rare this dream had become, Geoffrey had settled into not moving, but simply enjoying to just lie in the embrace of a warm body. Savouring the touch of the other man's light skin against his, the feeling of home and a well deserved peace spreading through him for as long as the dream would last.

If only he had a face to the man... But Geoffrey knew deep down he was made from his fantasy. Something imaginary to calm him down, to remind him what he could have one day, if he played his cards right. And until then, he could simply wish for this specific dream to reoccur every once and then.

Geoffrey closed his eyes as the soft wind from outside stroke his skin along with a warm hand. He let out a pleased sigh as he felt a chest heaving against his back and a nose nuzzling his hair. He seemed to be especially lucky this time, since he suddenly felt soft lips caressing his neck and shoulder. Geoffrey shuddered at the feeling. This surely turned out to be one of the best versions of this dream he'd ever had.

And although Geoffrey absolutely loved the small kisses he was peppered with, it got harder and harder to not turn around to the mysterious man to cradle his face with the same affection Geoffrey received every time and kiss those wonderfully velvety lips.

His eyes opened wide, as he suddenly heard a deep humming sound from behind him. That had never happened before. The vibration of the smooth baritone resounded from the chest pressed against his back, being the corpus of a voice Geoffrey knew he could listen to forever. He held his breath, waiting for something, words maybe, but the humming continued in an innocent tune.

"Talk to me. Please..." Geoffrey muttered quietly and grabbed one of the hands caressing his chest. The humming stopped and Geoffrey knew it had been a mistake to speak out loud. A deep sigh was uttered from behind him, before those lips settled onto his head for a last affectionate gesture. Then the wind grew stronger and carried everything around Geoffrey away as he woke up.

"Ugh..." The hunter groaned as he opened his eyes, the last sun rays of the day shining through his small window inside the storage room he slept in. The theater had of course been an enhancement to their former base, but Geoffrey had found out rather quickly he was unable to sleep in any of those luxurious rooms with their giant windows. Sunlight would only keep him from sleeping through the day. And for his line of work, Geoffrey had settled with the never-ending nightshifts a long time ago.

He knew he should get up by now, but he couldn't help staring at the ceiling and recalling his dream. For some reason it had been a lot more... defined than its former versions. First the kisses and then that sweet, but somewhat sad humming. Geoffrey tried to recall the voice he'd heard, but it was fading already. He could've sworn that it was somewhat familiar though...

Unexpectedly he didn't like that thought. Because if he'd already met the man he associated that voice with, it meant Geoffrey's mind was fantasizing about one of his own men from the guard. Yet he had always imagined this mysterious man his consciousness made up to be someone less... violent. Someone calm and gentle, intelligent and caring. Unlike most of the rough bastards under his command. Geoffrey shook his head to clear his thoughts. What would it do him good to think about the gibberish his brain made up in his sleep?

Though he did wonder... Would the dream of the white curtains become even more intense in the future? If he couldn't have this man in his real life, would he at least continue humming his melancholic melodies to Geoffrey and kiss his back in his dreams? Would he perhaps do more at some point...? God, it's been a long time since Geoffrey slept with anyone.

He quickly got up with an exasperated groan, before he got lost in his thoughts too much. Hiding from reality was not something Geoffrey would let himself get away with. At some point he simply had to accept that he was married to his work with no space or spare time to tend to a potential lover. Nope, it was killing leeches, night in and night out. And frankly, that wasn't too bad in Geoffrey's opinion.

"Damn boss, isn't this like... your breakfast?" Geoffrey's third in command, Harrison, looked at the steak on his plate in confusion and slight worry.

"Dinner is dinner," Geoffrey huffed, roughly stabbing the fork into his meal. Though Harrison's concern was not exactly incomprehensible. Lately Geoffrey had found an appetite for extremely rare meat, and the portions weren't quite that small either. But he did burn a lot of calories and he simply preferred the juicy texture of the meat that way.

"Be careful you don't get sick though, it looks barely cooked." Harrison still frowned at him. Geoffrey shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Its fine. You should give it a try. Or get me some more," he responded gruffly and the other man sighed, grasping his cup of coffee to warm his hands.

"It's still early. You're lucky we're alone at the moment, I don't think anyone can stomach just seeing you eating that first thing after getting up."

"Jesus, what are we? A fucking tea and pastry shop that offers fresh buns for breakfast?" Geoffrey mocked him and purposely went for the half empty bottle of whiskey on the middle of the table, just to annoy Harrison further.

"I get it, I get it." The other man gave in with a sigh.

"Such a shame the leech doctor still roams the streets. I'd be sleeping a lot more peacefully if I knew his head was separated from his shoulders." 

Geoffrey looked up with a stern gaze.

"I know you're not happy with the last meeting, but I won't change my orders. Don't engage until the epidemic is over. And even then I fear we must set a very carefully planned out trap to take out the beast." Geoffrey sighed loudly, leaning back in his chair. That was a problem he currently did not want to think about. He didn't trust Reid to give his life up willingly once everything was over... But-... Those desperate pale eyes flashed in his mind again, begging Geoffrey silently to pierce his heart with a stake.

"Is he really that strong?" Harrison's eyes widened slightly. He'd never encountered Reid personally, but the leech was in fact one of the most famous among the guard. 

"I mean, I saw most of the reports. Not exactly few. He never managed to kill any of our men, but fled instead." Geoffrey furrowed his brows deeply. 

"Who the fuck is writing these reports? If the fucking leech wanted to he could rip two patrols worth of heads off and build a nice little pile with them before any of them even have the chance to shout leech!" He balled his hand into a fist. It was indeed a problem if his men underestimated Reid and got cocky. He would have to address the leech's real power urgently during the next meeting.

"So you're saying he's holding back?" Harrison pushed a hand through his short hair in a frustrated manner.

"Like I told you, I don't know why, but the fucker spared me. Even with the blood of King Arthur I was no fucking match for him. We definitely should avoid engaging until we have a safe and precise method to kill him." Unaware of his movements Geoffrey raised his hand to touch the bite wound. It still stung sometimes after he woke up or reminded him of the pain and humiliation every time he thought of the unusual leech.

"Still took a hefty bite out of ya." Harrison forced a smile and Geoffrey returned the gesture.

"At least it's a confirmation we're still dealing with a monster here, despite how much the thing wants to play the good doctor," Geoffrey said, but his words did not feel as confident anymore as they had been before Reid had begged him to kill him.

"Speaking of monsters..." Harrison cleared his throat with a frown and Geoffrey dreaded the seriousness in his voice.

"Barlow and his lot have been causing trouble again. I know you did the right thing kicking them out after what they did to Swansea..." He grimaced and Geoffrey started to glare at the table. It had been a mistake to assign Barlow to watch over Swansea that night. He was responsible for this...

"One of them shot Warrington in the leg and Crawley has been missing since last night. Sometimes I'm wondering if we should've... taken care of the problem the cold-hearted way..." His voice got quiet at the end and Geoffrey was glad to hear Harrison was ashamed of himself to utter these thoughts out loud. It was unusual for him, taking his more diplomatic nature into account. It's why Geoffrey had chosen him to be his third in command after all.

"I know what you mean. But we kill beasts, not humans," Geoffrey muttered darkly.

"Honestly I sometimes can't tell the difference anymore these days..." Harrison's words stung more than they should. They reminded Geoffrey of pale blue eyes full of pain and hope.

It was a busy night for Jonathan checking the medication supply of the hospital and taking care of reproducing enough to last for the next week. Since Ackroyd had taken over Pembroke, work was more stressful than usual. Jonathan knew the older doctor would love to get him and Strickland out of his way, but he had to realize himself that the hospital would fall to pieces without them. Still, Jonathan had hoped for some signs of sympathy after suggesting him as Pembroke's new administrator since everyone had assumed he himself would take over Swansea's position. He couldn't, though. Not with him only being able to work the night shifts. And quite frankly, he didn't want to either. He still had to get so much done, before-... Before his deal with Geoffrey would expire. 

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his fangs starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in his mouth. He should go hunting soon. Ever since he'd tasted Geoffrey's blood, Jonathan found himself hungrier than usual. He had to drain more Skals and rats to completely satisfy himself and even then there was a voice inside him telling him he could have something much, much better. Jonathan feared for the effect to be permanent. If it was, it would be another reason for his cursed existence to end.

He turned with a frown as he suddenly perceived voices outside from the hospital grounds. It was laughter and angry shouting. Jonathan quickly recognized that voice to be Thelma Howcroft and as he slipped into his blood vision he could pinpoint four more humans surrounding her. Jonathan froze in horror. Of course Priwen still thought of her as a vampire. Cursing under his breath he stopped working on an enhanced formula for fatigue medication and quickly grabbed his coat. Jumping down from his balcony after scanning the area for any unwanted attention, he hurried over to the group threatening Howcroft a few yards behind the hospital's backside.

"You shall receive no mercy, mortals!" he heard Howcroft yell at the laughing guards. Rookies, if he was not mistaken, going by their age and well... behaviour around a supposed vampire.

"Ain't she cute? White as porcelain, but those crazed eyes... Who wants to do the honour?" One of them shouted and Jonathan sped up just a little too fast to be considered human.

"Show us your teeth, little leech!" The men laughed over Howcroft's indignant shouting.

"Maybe we should lock her up and keep her. I could listen to this all day!"

"You will do no such thing!" Jonathan's voice boomed through the darkness as he approached the rookies who stepped back startled. Aside from being a vampire, Jonathan's appearance could be considered quite intimidating as he towered over all four of them, trying to put some distance between them and Howcroft.

"Uh-...but, Sir-... That lady, she's-..." One of them tried to reason nervously.

"Oh, fucking hell, fuck me, it's him! The fucking leech doctor!" The man next to him pulled his comrade back by the shoulder. All four pairs of eyes widened in terror before they fumbled with their weapons.

"Stay the fuck where you are, leech!" The rookies tried to threaten him, roaring incomprehensible accusations, but not daring to lash out at him. The situation wasn't ideal for Jonathan himself. Howcroft would not be taken seriously by any of the staff, but he would rather not have her spread rumours about the good Dr Reid being a blood-sucking creature of the night. Since his cover was blown now anyway, he decided it was best to scare them away.

"Leave," he seethed lowly, trying not to use too much mesmerism. It was hard to control most of the time and Jonathan still feared to accidently break a person if he used it unawarely. The rookies seemed stunned for a second, their gazes drawing to Jonathan's bared fangs. One of them just dropped his gun and stakes to make a run for it with no further comment.

"Yes, defy them, my immortal brother! Spill their blood and let us share this meal!" Howcroft's crazed shouts were anything but helpful in that matter. Jonathan was just thinking about another move to convince the rest of them to back off without necessarily having to hurt them, as he suddenly noticed another presence quickly approaching.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jonathan heard him before he saw him as Geoffrey McCullum rounded the corner and now glowered at his rookies from the opposite side of Jonathan.

"What did I tell you lot about attacking Reid?" the Irishman growled loudly and the men started shaking, now cornered from both sides. Jonathan raised his eyebrows in surprise. Geoffrey was defending him? That was a first.

"B-But, boss! He's protecting another leech!" one of them dared to speak up and Geoffrey quickly glanced at Howcroft before his expression got even more furious.

"How many times did I tell you to drop this case, ye daft cunts?!" he started raging.

"Can't you tell the fucking difference between a human and a beast?" Geoffrey pointed exaggeratedly at Jonathan and Howcroft.

"Jesus Christ, I should put up some exams before recruiting absolute dipshits like you three! And where the fuck did Nelson fly off to??"

"Sorry, boss, it won't happen again!" Two of them almost cried, while the third looked at the floor in shame, still warily glancing up to Jonathan from time to time.

"It better don't. You're gonna clean the toilets for the next two weeks. And if Nelson shows his ugly face again, tell him he's out. Now piss off!" Geoffrey gave the three of them a harsh push and they quickly stumbled away on shaking limbs.

"I-..." Jonathan started as he now stood across from Geoffrey who crossed his arms over his chest with a deep scowl.

"Kill the human, Dr Reid! Don't let this hunter be a threat to our kind any longer! Feast on his blood!" Howcroft hollered.

"Yeah well, that happened already," Geoffrey scoffed, spitting at the ground and meeting Jonathan's gaze.

"And I'll fucking divide him into quarters if he tries again." His eyes were so cold Jonathan shuddered. For some reason it hurt him to see how much Geoffrey hated him.

"Stay out of my sight," he added before simply turning and walking away. Jonathan opened his mouth to say something. Thank him, maybe, but the words were stuck in his throat. Geoffrey despised him, he shouldn't try to gain his trust anymore. Jonathan had fucked up too much for that.

"Are you just letting him go?!" Howcroft grabbed Jonathan's arm and he almost hissed at her, but quickly covered his mouth in time.

"Let's get you back inside, Ms Howcroft. It's not safe out here." It definitely won't be the longer Jonathan was unable to feed.

"It is for us! For we are both divine presences among feeble mortals!" He ignored Howcroft's tirades for the rest of the way, only hoping that no one would grow suspicious when she talked like that about him.

"We shall rule the night together, my immortal brother!" she shouted after him as he left her at her patient bed, but already noticed Thomas Elwood shooting him a strange look. Jonathan quickly excused himself as he passed Branaghan and Strickland, hurrying to his office. As soon as he'd closed the door behind him, he let out a low and hungry growl. His fangs were throbbing painfully behind his lips and if he wasn't careful, his claws would start to show. He had to get to the graveyard without any further detours.

Thick clouds covered the moon by the time Jonathan had reached the cemetery in Whitechapel. Coming here always made his heart twinge in sorrow and guilt, reminding him of Mary. But at least she was at peace now and no longer tormented by vampirism. Unlike Jonathan. It still hurt too much to think about it, though. About both her tragic deaths, both times in his arms as she left this world. Yet Jonathan had no choice but to come here, if he needed a consistent source of blood from Skals and rats. It was a punishment for itself to think of Mary every time before he had a meal... If one could call it that.

Jonathan stood still for a moment. The graveyard was so dark a human would've been unable to see their hand in front of their eyes. But for him these conditions were perfect. He just noticed how much the bright artificial lights inside Pembroke had hurt his eyes and how they now thrived in the dark, taking in every detail. He used his blood sight to locate two Skals on the outer skirts of the graveyard behind the chapel. His lips parted in anticipation as he wasted no time to close in on his prey in a blur of shadows. Jumping the first one from behind, he greedily sank his fangs into its neck, making the Skal screech loudly, flailing its limbs in an attempt to fight back. But Jonathan was unrelenting, swallowing mouthfuls of blood while feeling the creature slowly weakening under his grasp. 

He recognized the second Skal to be a blinker, as it appeared behind him and hacked its claws into his shoulder. Jonathan turned around with a hiss, warm blood dripping from his lips before he threw the Skal off him with a predatory snarl. The beast inside him took over shortly as he sliced his claws through the Skal's body as if it were butter. Jonathan bent down when it collapsed on the floor, exposing its neck with his hands before tearing through the flesh with his teeth. Soon a content rumbling sound escaped his throat as he knelt on the ground and drained the creature. His hunger receded to to the back of his head as he slowly stood up, his thoughts starting to clear. Jonathan couldn't express how much he resented himself, looking at the slaughter in front of him. He wiped his mouth, disgusted by himself. Geoffrey was right. He was just an animal, a beast that was a slave to its own instincts.

"That hungry, huh?" Jonathan whirled around quickly and bared his fangs at the Ekon that approached him from a safe distance. Ascalon, maybe? No, he'd have attacked immediately were that the case.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, but feeding off Skals... It's rather shameful." The stranger held up his hands in a soothing manner as Jonathan stood up to his full height, glaring at the other Ekon. For some reason he didn't like having another predator inside his territory. That was definitely the beast speaking inside him.

"You're a newborn, so I'll offer you some help." The man grinned at him, looking at him with slit pupils and a blood tainted sclera. He fed from humans. Of course he did, like every ordinary vampire. Jonathan had already decided to end the other Ekon and his beast agreed happily.

"I sensed a hunter not too far from here," the vampire continued despite Jonathan not answering.

"Might be a challenge, but the two of us together could take him down." Jonathan narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I know it's unusual to share, but the way his blood smelled..." The Ekon inhaled deeply with a sigh, fixing his bloodstained collar. Jonathan suddenly had a presumption who exactly he was talking about and a fierce rage started to grow inside him.

"I must have his blood! And you shall taste it too, newborn! So vibrant and seductive... unlike anything I've ever sensed!" he called out without any sanity remaining in his voice. Jonathan's fangs were elongating again, he felt as if he was going to burst any second.

"Oh, I'd make that human mine... A nice little pet to keep and feed off-..." Jonathan's control was gone the next moment as he lunged himself at the other Ekon. Just the image of Geoffrey being attacked by this creature made him lose his mind as he let his beast defile the vampire. The latter one didn't even have the chance to mouth his surprise before his body got ripped apart by blood and shadow. Jonathan's vision was blinded by a red haze that only resolved when the Ekon lied motionlessly in front of him, barely recognizable. Realizing just how much he'd lost control, Jonathan's knees gave in and he sat down panting heavily, his hands shaking. What was happening to him? His instincts just acted like as if Geoffrey-...

He shook his head in denial, but he couldn't silence the growl still forming in his chest. Why was he suddenly so protective of the hunter? It didn't make any sense, but for some reason his beast wanted to claim Geoffrey as his, as if he was territory. Jonathan winced at how sick and vile that sounded. If Geoffrey knew of his instincts, he'd drive a stake through his heart this very instance and Jonathan would accept it gladly. He hid his head between his knees. God, he was such a mess. He had to stay away from the hunter, he couldn't rely on himself to not let his instincts take over...

From the corner of his eye he noticed a small white flower, a single daisy, lonely between patches of bloodied grass. Jonathan carefully reached out to pick it up. He should visit Mary. Talking to her would ground him. He was used to the grief by now, but he knew already he was going to cry in front of her grave.

Chapter Text

In hindsight, Geoffrey knew it had not been smart to go after the Vulkod all by himself. He had managed to track the beast down by the sewers, but it had waited for him there. Although Vulkods were not exactly known for their intelligence, Geoffrey had underestimated it. A grave mistake. The moment he ended its life with his sword piercing through its heart, he realized he was not going to make it far. The Vulkod's claws had cut deeply into his side, leaving three nasty gushes with Geoffrey's blood covering the floor way too fast. 

With his last remaining strength he had dragged his broken body away from the sewers into an abandoned house. At least he hadn't stumbled across any corpses inside, as he'd fallen down onto the bed, pressing a hand to his side in a weak attempt to stop the continuous flow of blood. The pain numbed his senses and the edges around his vision started to become dark. He felt cold all of a sudden, the pain fading into the background. And with the coldness came fear. A sudden fear of dying alone. In utter silence except his own dying gasps for air. With no one at his side. Geoffrey felt his eyes water. It was almost laughable how weak he was now, there was nothing that had ever scared him before. But dying like this... So far away from any noise and warmth...

"Geoffrey!" Now he started to hallucinate, seeing widened blue eyes in front of him... But why-... Why him? He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer as he faded into darkness.

It was the second time this month Geoffrey awoke from the dead like a fucking zombie, groaning in unbearable pain and with a headache so heavy as if someone treated his skull with a hammer repeatedly. On the upside he wasn't in Pembroke this time. On the downside, he felt worse than after his fight with Reid. Speaking of which-... Geoffrey's body snapped up in shock as he noticed a familiar figure from the corner of his eye. Pain immediately shot through his side and he almost blacked out again, but forced his eyes to stay open as he took in the leech sitting right next to the bed in a chair. Asleep, going by the way his chin rested on his chest and his arms hanging by his side. If not for the tension in his body that kept him in a sitting position, Geoffrey would've thought him to be a corpse. Which he technically was.

"Fucking shite..." Geoffrey hissed, blinking in confusion. The pain made it hard to clear his head, his current situation simply made no sense to him. As he looked down at himself, he noticed that his torso was bare except for the thick bandages wrapped expertly around him, applying just the right amount of pressure to his wound. Geoffrey touched the bandage in disbelief, then looked at his shaking hands. Had the leech doctor treated him? But why on earth would he do such a thing? And then expose himself like that by sleeping right next to Geoffrey? He shook his head in bewilderment, but it only worsened his headache.

It took him at least ten minutes to start focusing on his surroundings more. He barely remembered getting here after he'd defeated the Vulkod. And what had appeared to be hallucinations must've been indeed Reid finding him... and apparently saving him from certain death. Fuck. Now Geoffrey wished again he'd just died, nothing was worse than being indebted to a fucking leech. 

Reid's sleeping position was rather awkward, now that he watched him again. He'd definitely have some awful cramps after waking up, were he human. Geoffrey turned his head to the window that was covered by curtains. Despite the thick fabric, a sliver of light was making it through a tiny gap, barely missing the tip of Reid's left foot. For a moment Geoffrey fantasized about getting up and removing the curtains to watch the beast burn before taking it down...

But he wouldn't. Their deal wasn't over yet and Reid had saved his life. Whether Geoffrey wanted that or not. And going by the looks of the room, he must've exhausted himself so much to fall asleep in a chair with his guard let down. There were bloodied bandages and tissues scattered all over the place, inbetween most of Reid's equipment that he always seemed to carry around. The beast itself didn't look any better. His hair was disheveled in a way Geoffrey had never seen before, an open notebook resided in his lap, and a pen, that must've slipped out of his hand, was lying on the floor.

Feeling a little steadier than before, Geoffrey slowly tried to stand up. His legs immediately gave in underneath him and he fell back onto the bed, cursing silently, not wanting to wake the beast beside him. Even if said beast had saved him from dying... With nothing much to do Geoffrey took a closer look at Reid's notebook, trying to read his handwriting upside down, which was unusually neat for a doctor. The opened pages consisted mostly of medication doses and a detailed analysis of Geoffrey's injuries. He frowned. It was possible he only kept the book for medical purposes, but he found himself wondering if Reid didn't collect more information about him. Against his better judgement, he carefully took the object in question away from the leech to take a look at the other pages. And what Geoffrey read on the page before made him freeze.

This wasn't just some notebook Reid used for his work. It also seemed to be a kind of diary. The entries were quite short, the sentences simple, very unlike from what Geoffrey would've expected from the eloquent toff. Not that he'd at all expected to find such personal notes. He knew he shouldn't read them. He really shouldn't, but Reid wasn't a person. Geoffrey shouldn't feel guilty to go through the thoughts of a beast. And aside from that, curiosity simply overwhelmed him. The first pages were about lots of inventory stuff, medication formulas and notes on different patients that Geoffrey deliberately skipped. The first entry that didn't fit into the pattern was dated almost two weeks ago.

Hunger is worse than usual. Can't control fangs on occasion. I fear losing myself.

Well, that almost sounded like a deal breaker to Geoffrey. If Reid lost control, he shouldn't waste any time to end him. His gaze slowly wandered to the curtains... He would finish reading first, turning the page.

Geoffrey appears in my dreams. I killed him. Every time I wake up I believe it for a moment. I don't want to live like this. He will never forgive me.

"Damn right I won't," Geoffrey muttered to himself, scanning for the next entry. He realized in surprise that he hadn't known leeches had dreams.

I have so much work to do. But I should no longer live. I want Geoffrey to end it. No one else. 

Reid's fixation on Geoffrey started to disturb him, and it especially ticked him off that he always referred to him by his given name.

Met Geoffrey this night. I will continue my work until the epidemic is over. I will stay away from him. I hurt him enough. I hate myself.

The amount of emotion was disturbing as well. Geoffrey grimaced as he kept reading. The entries following now couldn't be more than a few days old.

Hunger is even worse. I don't understand my instincts. I have to keep my distance from others at all cost. 

Another Ekon asked me to hunt a Priwen guard with him. I lost control. I don't even know if he really meant Geoffrey. I never felt like this before. I am scared.

Must ask Elisabeth about the bite. Developed some strange territorial instincts. Bestial thoughts enter my head at times. I am a monster. I deserve death and pain. I deserve Geoffrey's hatred.

Geoffrey stared at the following blank pages, not knowing what to make of the information. Reid definitely hadn't meant for anyone to ever read this. And even though Geoffrey had just decided that the leech wasn't a person, he now felt like he had invaded his privacy. He wondered though, who was Elisabeth? Another leech? And what did Reid imply with territorial instincts? And did he really despise himself so much...? 

He stopped in his movement of placing the notebook back to glance at Reid's face. He looked... unbothered while sleeping. Peaceful, even, though definitely exhausted. It was the first time Geoffrey really looked at him. The deathly pallor, those sharp features and the few scars littering his face. Geoffrey never noticed them before. From the war maybe? Before he-... All of a sudden Geoffrey wanted to know what Reid had looked like before. Because quite frankly, the good doctor was anything but hard on the eyes. He wondered if they could've become friends, had he met the human Reid, not the beast animating his corpse. 

The thought made him unbelievably sad. Had he been human, Reid would've undeniably been Geoffrey's type. For a short moment he allowed himself to imagine meeting the other man in a pub, flirting with him and wondering what he looked like when he smiled. But reality was different. Reid was a blood-thirsty beast with a dead body and murderous instincts.

Still, Geoffrey hated how he simply couldn't avert his eyes from the doctor's face. His crooked nose especially made his features a lot more interesting. He was looking elegant, but somewhat rough at the same time. He could only imagine what kind of vibrant blue his eyes must've been before his death. 

Not quite aware of his actions, Geoffrey reached out to touch Reid's hair, his eyebrows shooting up at how unexpectedly soft it was, considering the way it always seemed to stick to his head. The next moment Geoffrey immediately scolded himself for fucking touching a sleeping vampire. But now that he'd started, he couldn't stop, tracing the line of an old cut beneath his right eye. The vampire's skin was not as cold as he'd thought. Before Geoffrey could get the idea to touch that extremely soft looking beard or start poking around in his mouth to take a look at the fangs, he quickly retreated, wondering what the fuck had gotten into him. The blood loss didn't do him any good, that was for sure. And perhaps Reid had given him some medication that messed with his head?

He tried standing up again, this time able to walk a few steps on shaking legs. He noticed his weapons and clothes next to the door and grimaced as he tried to bend down to at least grab a stake in case the vampire got any wrong ideas. Though he now knew deep down that Reid would not attack him. Not willingly at least. Still, he wouldn't trust the beast's instincts. 

Suddenly aware of his own stomach grumbling, Geoffrey groaned in agony. He very much doubted he'd find anything proper to eat inside this house, except maybe some canned goods. Better than nothing, he decided, opening the door with a lot of effort and entering the kitchen. He couldn't believe his eyes as he noticed a pot standing on the table with a small note next to it.

Warm it up and boil the water before you drink it. If you're having a migraine, take the medication on the nightstand. In case you need anything else, you may wake me, but I really suggest you try to sleep after eating.

Geoffrey crumpled the note with his hand. Now the leech fucking cooked for him? He surely wouldn't touch that. By all means, Geoffrey should gather his gear and leave while the sun was still up to get treated at the theatre. But just taking another step drained all of his energy and he quickly had to sit down at the table, eyeing the pot suspiciously. When he couldn't take it any longer, he lifted the lid to glance inside, being welcomed by the smell of an ordinary stew. Well, it wouldn't hurt to at least try it. With a sigh Geoffrey put the pot on the stove and started to boil some water next to it. Maybe he'd feel strong enough to leave after a meal. At the moment he'd really prefer a rare steak, though...

Jonathan ruffled his hair in exhaustion as he watched Geoffrey sleep. Panic was still making his heart beat unusually fast for an Ekon. If he hadn't found Geoffrey this very instant... Or worse, if he'd listened to his instincts urging him to drain the hunter now that it was most certainly too late for him... The amount of blood on the floor and on the bed sheets hadn't helped in that matter. 

But Jonathan had kept to his oath as Geoffrey passed out. He'd removed his clothing, cleaned his wounds, sewed them close and bandaged them multiple times. All the while his fangs had throbbed with want, uncomfortably long in his mouth, begging just for a drop of Geoffrey's blood. But Jonathan wouldn't let the temptation get the better of him. Even now it was difficult, looking at Geoffrey's naked torso, sensing the fresh wound just underneath the layers of bandages. 

But every time his eyes grazed the scar of his teeth on Geoffrey's neck, he felt sick again, thinking of the hatred in Geoffrey's eyes, of Mary dying in his arms. Jonathan closed the curtains before the first light of the morning threatened to enter the room. Sitting down again he tried to focus on his notes, sorting through his thoughts if he'd forgotten something. He didn't even notice the pen slipping from his grasp as he fell asleep.

When he woke up at sunset Geoffrey was gone. Jonathan's heart felt heavy inside his chest. He should've known. He furrowed his brows as he perceived a slow heartbeat from the living room. Surprised and relieved at the same time Jonathan quickly got up. It was indeed Geoffrey lying on the rather uncomfortable couch, clutching a stake to his chest and shivering slightly due to the cold. 

Jonathan suddenly felt bad. Of course Geoffrey wouldn't walk back into the bedroom to fall asleep next to a vampire. But he could at least have taken the blanket with him... Still, it was Jonathan's fault for not leaving the bedroom to sleep somewhere else. It was a relief to find him here though, and not dead in the streets with Skals enjoying the fresh meal. God, the carnage Jonathan would fall into... He couldn't help but let out a low growl before quickly collecting himself. Geoffrey wasn't dead. He shouldn't waste his thoughts.

"You stupid man..." Jonathan sighed quietly as he carefully scooped Geoffrey up in his arms without waking the hunter. At least he'd eaten the stew as it seemed. His warmth was oddly comforting and Jonathan didn't set him down immediately as he walked back to the bed. He left him his stake, but tucked the hunter in a few blankets Jonathan had collected from other abandoned houses the previous night. He needed to change the bandages, but he'd wait until Geoffrey woke up. 

Jonathan barely held back a noise similar to purring as he bent down to stroke the hunter's hair out of his forehead. The next second he took a step back horrified. He shouldn't feel this kind of possession over Geoffrey. It was wrong... yet, all Jonathan wanted to do was care for him, protect him from any harm... And freaking slaughter anything living within a mile. Fuck, no. Those were no healthy thoughts. Jonathan really had to control his beast. He needed to ask Elisabeth for advice. And whether it was truly connected to the bite like he suspected.

Jonathan turned as Geoffrey suddenly stirred. The same time he bent down in concern the hunter had readied his stake and rammed it into Jonathan's chest. The pain made him hiss, but he blamed himself for startling the hunter. Geoffrey had his own instincts after all. At least the thrust had not been as powerful considering the hunter's current condition. Jonathan was lucky the wood had not pierced his heart, though. Geoffrey watched with wide eyes how he removed the stake to heal himself, quickly backing away to offer the human some space.

"Give that back to me," Geoffrey growled, holding out his hand for the stake, before muttering in confusion: 

"Why the fuck am I back in the bed?"

"I'm sorry," Jonathan apologized, his voice a little rough, but the pain already faded. Fortunately he'd fed thoroughly the other night when finding a nest of rogue Skals before sensing Geoffrey. He winced as the hunter snatched the stake out of his hand and glared at him.

"You should fucking know better than to loom over me when I wake up. I was trained for situations like these."

"I-... I did not think. I will maintain my distance next time," Jonathan responded wistfully.

"Next time? I very much hope there won't be a fucking next time!" Geoffrey seethed.

"Geoffrey, you-.."

"It's McCullum for you, fucking leech!" he interrupted him loudly, but it clearly took a strain on him as he fell back against the bedpost.

"McCullum, you can barely walk. And if you do, you'll open up the stitches and probably die within the next hour. I am really sorry you're stuck with me here, but you need to cooperate!" Jonathan looked at him despaired. If only Geoffrey would listen to him... He feared for his life otherwise. The hunter's gaze darkened.

"Oh, so you want to keep me here, huh? As your little human pet, maybe? Taking care of me just fine and feeding on me from time to time in return? I've seen it happen, leech, and there's nothing that sickens me more. So if that's your plan, do me the favor and kill me right now. I'm sure you're hungry." The words hurt Jonathan more than he wanted to admit. But he deserved it. He was a monster.

"I'm a doctor. And I will see to your health as I would've when I was still human," he mumbled after a while and Geoffrey averted his gaze.

"Still holding onto that, huh? I know you, beast. I'm not your fucking property."

"I am truly sorry, McCullum. I promise to stay as far away from you as possible, once you have recovered. But for now, you need to live." His voice got quieter towards the end and Geoffrey started to frown as if he couldn't be as hateful as he originally intended to be.

"What are you going to do then? Read me fucking bedtime stories?" the hunter grunted.

"I... need to change your bandages." Jonathan threw him a wary look.

"You ain't touching me, leech," Geoffrey laughed coldly and the sound of it made Jonathan want to curl himself up in a dark corner.

"I understand. May I suggest a solution?" he asked carefully.

"As long as it doesn't imply you licking my wounds clean..." the man sneered in disgust. Jonathan ignored the way his beast perked up at the thought.

"No. May I approach you?"

"No sudden movements, beast." Geoffrey threateningly raised his stake. Jonathan carefully inched closer to him until he sat down on the chair next to the bed.

"Can you sit up and face me, please?" The hunter narrowed his eyes, but did as he was told, grasping tightly onto his weapon. His eyes followed Jonathan's movement as he reached into the pocket of his coat and retrieved  a scalpel.

"Take this." He handed it to Geoffrey who accepted it with a frown.

Geoffrey took a close look at the leech holding out the surgical instrument to him. He seemed tired and hurt. Understandably so after Geoffrey's cruel words. He told himself the leech deserved it. He did, but Reid looked so realistically human sitting in front of him like that. As if he was a real doctor.

"I will be very close to you. You can hold it against my neck and should I lose control or make you uncomfortable, you'll be able to slice my throat and then stake me. Is that alright?" Their eyes met and Geoffrey was lost in them for a second. He saw honesty, pain and sorrow all at once. It almost frightened him how accepting the leech was of his painful fate should Geoffrey decide to kill him with both the scalpel and his stake.

"Don't think I'll hesitate." He placed the small, but sharp blade against the vampire's skin. 

"I wouldn't wish it any different." The sad smile that followed totally took him off guard. For a second Geoffrey wanted to reach out and touch his face. God, he was still feeling dizzy... Or did the leech have any powers to mess with his head like that...? One thing Geoffrey knew was that the beast was of an old bloodline after all.

"Are you alright with this?" Reid muttered warily after being mere inches apart from him, looking at him from below with what almost seemed to be puppy eyes. Or the ones of a big and sad cat really.

"You want me to tell the truth?" Geoffrey raised his eyebrows sarcastically and the leech sighed.

"I'll have to touch you in order to change the bandages, so please don't be surprised."

"As long as you keep your fangs to yourself..."

Reid grimaced before he carefully reached out to loosen the clips at Geoffrey's side. Geoffrey flinched as cold fingers brushed his skin and the blade against the doctor's throat drew blood.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, McCullum. Please trust me." He stopped his movement as if he expected Geoffrey to stake him right this moment.

"That's very bold of you to say, beast," the hunter just snorted, raking his neck to give Reid a good look of how he'd almost murdered Geoffrey. The way pain and self-loathing flashed in his eyes Geoffrey almost regretted his action.

"I know," Reid muttered dejectedly, lowering his eyes to his work. He advanced cautiously, either afraid to startle Geoffrey again or reluctant in touching him. The hunter imagined it to be the latter, the vampire's senses must be going crazy when revealing the fresh and deep cuts on his torso. Especially since Geoffrey had popped a few stitches while moving around. The way the leech stared at his blood made him grasp the scalpel even tighter.

"I need to clean this and fix the stitches," Reid gulped audibly and to Geoffrey's surprise, managed to turn away to get tissues and thread and needle.

"It's going to hurt a bit." His voice was still quiet, as if he didn't dare speaking up. He faced Geoffrey again with that unbelievably sad look, suddenly taking his hand to place the scalpel back against his neck.

"Don't touch me!" Geoffrey hissed immediately and Reid quickly let go, looking the other way before taking care of the bloodied claw marks.

"Must be hard to hold back," Geoffrey said without even knowing why he had opened his mouth. But he somehow had to distract himself from those cold white hands brushing his stomach and giving him goosebumps. The feeling was almost more intense than the pain as the thread weaved through his skin. He couldn't help but admire the work, he'd seen far worse from his own medics...

"I-... No, what-...?" the vampire stuttered helplessly without looking up to him.

"I can see your face, leech. You wanna bite right into me instead of sewing me back up."

"That's not-... Like I said earlier I'm still a doctor, McCullum. And I understand why you'd think so lowly of me. But I'm not going to-..."

"Show me your fangs then," Geoffrey interrupted in a demanding tone. Now Reid stilled in his movements, the side of his hand against Geoffrey's abs. He wanted to squirm away from the predator's touch, but at the same time the coolness was somewhat soothing.

"I would rather not," Reid murmured so quietly Geoffrey almost overheard it. The hunter released the scalpel's blade from his throat and grabbed the leech by his chin. Just like back in the attic... Reid seemed to remember too, as his eyes widened even more.

"Show me," Geoffrey insisted lowly and the vampire whimpered and squinted his eyes tightly before slowly parting his lips.

"Fucking monster..." he whispered as he was indeed face to face with fully extended vampire fangs. Reid's eyes were still closed and Geoffrey almost jumped back as he gritted his teeth, but then he saw something strange. The beast's fangs were becoming smaller again, regressing to almost human teeth, except for the pointy and sharp edges.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Geoffrey exclaimed confused and Reid showed him again his bitter smile.

"You won't believe it, hunter, but I'm usually better at maintaining control. Now, will you let me finish treating you?" Geoffrey was at a loss of words, his lack of reaction perceived as a positive response as the leech doctor tended to the stitches again.

Only after Geoffrey had been wrapped in fresh bandages and Reid was more than a few feet apart from him, did his heartbeat start to calm down again. It wasn't just fear that he'd felt though. Geoffrey couldn't quite explain it, but something about the leech's presence made his head swirl.

"Do you need anything else, McCullum?" The softness in Reid's voice disturbed him too.

"A tea with sugar and cookies would be fucking lovely," Geoffrey mocked him and the doctor seemed bewildered, his brows drawn together and a thoughtful look in his nervous eyes. He did resemble a cat a lot...

"I might find something to your liking in other abandoned houses maybe...?" he replied with a question mark clearly written on his very attractive face. Geoffrey stumbled over that thought, suddenly unable to explain what was going on in his head. Sure, Reid's looks were distracting, but leeches were known to attract their prey this way and Geoffrey was shocked to find his own defenses so weak. It must be the exhaustion from his injury.

"I was kidding, leech. Just stay the fuck away from me, until you need to change this shit again." He pointed at his bandaged side.

"As you wish." Reid sighed, probably relieved at the thought to not scan every abandoned house to get Geoffrey cookies.

"I will make you food for when you wake up again," he then informed him and quickly made his leave through the door  in case Geoffrey turned the offer down.

"What the fuck." Geoffrey fell back into the bed as the door closed, a long sigh escaping his lips. Why was the leech messing with his head so much? Yes, he was a monster that had almost killed Geoffrey for his blood. But he was also a monster that saved him from death, fucking cooked for him and stitched him back up. And a monster who wrote sad diary entries. One with a handsome face, a smooth deep voice and large, skilled hands. 

If Geoffrey had enough energy, he'd scream into the pillow right now. He had to get away as quickly as possible from the leech. Whatever he did to manipulate Geoffrey's thoughts like that, he feared for his strong will to oppose the creature fade, should he continue to look into pale blue eyes brimming with emotion.

Chapter Text

"Jonathan, what a pleasant surprise." Elisabeth showed him her thin smile as she opened the door for him to let him inside her residence.

"Yes, I thought it was about time for me to stop by," Jonathan responded as he followed Elisabeth up the stairs to the sitting area in front of the chimney.

"Indeed it is, my dear. Had I known you were coming, I would've prepared some tea," she chuckled lightly. Jonathan let himself drop into one of the armchairs with an exasperated sigh. All his efforts had gone into keeping Geoffrey alive the past two nights. Despite considering the gravity of his injuries, the human was doing exceptionally well. The break was welcoming, although he was reluctant leaving the hunter alone and vulnerable.

"What's on your mind, my friend? I know that expression of yours, what happened?" Jonathan closed his eyes, feeling a hand placed on top of his own. The cold touch was not as soothing as he wished it to be. Neither firm nor warm enough for him to relax.

"I am actually here on a delicate matter, your ladyship," Jonathan finally started, a tad insecure about telling Elisabeth what he had done, but at the same time desperate for answers.

"I..." He averted his gaze as he continued, not wanting to see the disappointment in his friend's eyes.

"I made a horrible mistake."

"Oh, Jonathan..." Elisabeth's voice was somewhat knowing as she placed her other hand on his arm as if to assure him she was there for support. That didn't make it easier for Jonathan to speak it out loud, though.

"I bit someone. I didn't kill them, but I drew a lot of blood. Not quite... conscious if I might add." He waited anxiously for her reply, to tell him he was indeed a monster for losing control like that.

"I understand how you feel, my dear. But you held back from killing this person. That's something most newborns fail to accomplish." She gave him a compassionate look and Jonathan had the feeling he could trust her with the whole of his conflict.

"There's more." He cleared his throat while the woman listened to him attentively.

"I noticed that... I have developed some kind of territorial instincts?" Jonathan ended his discovery in a question and Elisabeth nodded, gesturing him to go on.

"It is hard to describe... It's like-... As if there's another being inside me that wants to rip apart every threat in certain areas and now-... around the human I bit I suppose..." Elisabeth's eyes widened at that and Jonathan feared her response.

"Jonathan, you have claimed a human?" she asked aghast and Jonathan felt panic rise inside him.

"I have what?" he repeated nervously and Elisabeth bit her lip, eyeing him carefully.

"I assume you did so unintentionally..."

"I simply have no control over it. My hunger has gotten worse since the bite and sometimes I just feel... so aggressive," Jonathan told her the truth quietly and Elisabeth sighed.

"I guess it is my fault too for not telling you about this condition. But I never thought that you of all Ekons-..." She gave him a quick look and shook her head.

"Nevermind. It's hardly your fault. But you must proceed carefully with this person from now on. Do you crave their blood, Jonathan?" Elisabeth looked him straight in the eyes and Jonathan opened his mouth to answer, but it took him a while to form the words.

"More than anything else," he muttered finally and Elisabeth frowned.

"But you're able to restrain yourself in front of them?"

"Yes. Mostly," he responded truthfully, though just thinking about how he'd found Geoffrey almost bled out made his mouth water. But his heart ached at the same time.

"Describe what you feel then."

"I just-... This particular person is... important to me. I don't want any harm to come to them, yet I feel the persistent need to feed from them again. But that desire is just as strong as wanting to protect them from any possible threat, including myself. No, not just threats. I have the urge to stop any living being from getting too close. It's just awful!" Jonathan covered his face with his hands, running them through his hair in stress.

"It's alright, Jonathan. You will learn to control these urges." Elisabeth started to stroke his back, but the touch gave him no comfort.

"When an Ekon claims a human through a very specific kind of bite, they usually intend to keep the human as a... long-term source of blood. As you said, it is an awful and sickening concept to just take possesion over a person and treat them like an object for your own interests. But you're not like that, Jonathan, I know you. I'm sure you can work it out with the human in question. Although you need to know that the bond you created through this action will never resolve completely until one of your lives has ended."

Jonathan looked up to her in shock, before he let his back hunch over and he stared at the wooden floor in defeat.

"What have I done..." he whispered horrified.

"Does this bond have any consequences for the person I bit?" he then asked in a panic.

"No, Jonathan, don't worry. You may have marked this human as yours, but the worst the bite might do is to let them know when you're close by with the intention do draw blood. But those new instincts you described only affect you. I have one remaining question, though," Elisabeth responded and Jonathan sighed in relief. The thought of the bite wound causing Geoffrey trouble unsettled him, but the hunter hadn't voiced anything concerning about it. Maybe he just kept quiet though. Or maybe he hadn't felt anything because Jonathan held back so much around him.

"I'm mostly glad to hear that. What do you wish to ask?" Jonathan turned his head to look at her again, his hair probably horribly disheveled by now.

"You told me you even felt the need to protect this human from yourself. I've never heard of that. The Ekon usually doesn't care if their prey comes to greater harm when feeding from them, they only care about keeping them alive, if just barely so. Are there any more strange feelings you perceived around this person?" She looked at him thoughtfully, resting her chin in her hand.

"Actually, yes," Jonathan answered after a moment.

"It does sound strange, but that... beast inside me can't decide sometimes if it wants to feed from the person or... hold them close and make sure they're warm and safe...?" he frowned as he realized just how weird those words were. Elisabeth mimicked his confused expression.

"That is indeed very unusual. I might do some research about such a behavioral pattern. It is quite hard to understand our instincts at times. I'd be delighted if you came by in a few nights again." She smiled at him reassuringly and Jonathan forced a smile on his lips as well. He almost flinched back when Elisabeth reached out to fix his tousled hair and placed a hand on his cheek for a moment. 

It wasn't something she hadn't done before, but for some reason Jonathan felt a discomforted growl rising inside him, barely suppressing it from surfacing. His inner beast craved the touch from a warm hand instead, rough and calloused, tenderly cradling Jonathan's face... God, he was thinking about Geoffrey, wasn't he...? That bond seemed to be a little more problematic than Elisabeth seemed to know herself.

"Yes, I will. Thank you for your help." Jonathan almost got up too quickly, but he did have the manners to lightly squeeze Elizabeth's hand in a friendly gesture.

"Take care, my friend," she smiled again and almost looked like she was about to do more, but then changed her mind before leading him outside.

Geoffrey was more than pleased when he fell into a deep sleep and opened his eyes to white curtains swaying in the wind. The softness of the bed comforted him, making him forget every pain he felt when he was awake. And of course his mysterious dream lover rested behind him, his large frame warming Geoffrey's back, and long fingers caressing his chest. Geoffrey closed his eyes with a contented sigh. He wouldn't be as stupid to disrupt the dream as he did last time, but simply enjoy this welcoming escape from reality. He shivered, trying to imprint the feeling deeply on his memory as those soft lips spoiled his back and neck with utmost care. Soon his ears were filled with the soft humming of the other man and Geoffrey unawarely reached for the hand currently caressing his side. A low chuckle resounded from behind him as their fingers intertwined and Geoffrey was surprised to see the dream offering him control like that. He usually accepted his passive role, but it seemed like he was allowed to inspect the man's hand closer without causing the dream to end.

It did unsettle him that his lover's hand was oddly familiar. As if he'd marveled it before when awake. But this was a dream, Geoffrey told himself. And he shouldn't care if his mind picked out certain sensations from when he was conscious and puzzled them together. It was a comforting proof after all, that this was truly just a dream.

Geoffrey dared to carefully raise the hand to his lips and kiss the tender skin. The man chuckled again as if permitting Geoffrey to keep going. It was just his hand, long, elegant fingers, but being able to touch him with his lips... He felt a beard tickling his shoulder as his lover returned to kissing his neck and Geoffrey's heart skipped a beat. Was this new or had he simply not noticed before...? Was it because he'd thought how soft Reid's beard looked yesterday? Geoffrey knew he didn't mind that as much as he probably should.

When those lips lovingly trailed down his shoulder and back up to his hair, Geoffrey's breath hitched with how warm he felt. Arousal was spreading inside him, leaving a tingling feeling where the other man touched him. All of a sudden he was aware of their tangled legs and how a hand slid down his side to rest on his hip. Geoffrey couldn't help but moan quietly.

"Please... kiss me," he gasped and the movement behind him stilled. For a moment Geoffrey felt cold. Had he said something he shouldn't have? Would the dream dissolve now? But then he felt the man's mouth over his ear and the sound of the wind seemed to stop as a whisper reached deep inside Geoffrey.

"Close your eyes." He immediately did as he was told, feeling his dream lover shift above him, before taking his face into his hands. What Geoffrey would give for the view he could have this moment... But he couldn't allow himself to make any mistakes now. He could hear the other man's breath as he slowly closed in, and Geoffrey parted his lips in anticipation before they were met with soft and full ones, pressed against his so sweet and innocent it was almost painful. 

That velvety beard lay against his skin and Geoffrey raised his hand to cup his cheek. For a quick moment he had the image of a pale black haired man with a crooked nose and a few scars littering his face in mind. He stirred beneath the kiss, trying to pull the man closer who was now lying on top of Geoffrey, their bodies brushing closely. And although Geoffrey put great effort into coaxing his mysterious dream lover into a more heated kiss, the touches stayed tender and innocent, sending sparks of pleasure through him. Geoffrey knew he shouldn't get impatient. But as he opened his mouth further to invite the other man's tongue in, he suddenly parted from him. Geoffrey whined, his hands grasping the man's back tightly. His warm lips were placed on Geoffrey's forehead.

"Until next time, Geoffrey."

Geoffrey tried to open his eyes in time, but he was too late. The dream resolved into white empty space before he woke up and stared wide-eyed at the dusty ceiling. This dream had been... really intense. And Geoffrey hated how quick it faded. One thing that didn't fade though was the hard-on under his blanket. He cursed quietly. He was startled even more when he realized Reid had fallen asleep in the chair next to his bed again, almost looking like he was about to fall off. At least the moron had closed the curtains properly this time. He was somewhat glad the leech wasn't awake. Geoffrey had no doubt he could tell through his blood vision how Geoffrey's blood was suddenly concentrated in his lower regions.

"Fucking hell," he grunted. While he did have the desperate urge to touch himself as the kisses and warmth from the dream were still present in his mind, he definitely wouldn't do it next to the fucking beast. Although looking at said beast almost made Geoffrey remember the dream even more vividly. His gaze dropped to Reid's slightly parted lips and he shuddered. They looked extremely soft, Geoffrey almost had the mind to graze them with his thumb. For a split second he tried to imagine the leech with remarkably less clothes on... and immediately regretted it as he was not very subtly made aware of his aroused state. Before Geoffrey would get some ideas he'd regret later on, he got up to resolve his business in the bathroom or at least somewhere without the leech doctor in sight.

He knew it was wrong to feel this way. Just the thought of Reid should naturally fill him with disgust, or fright even, considering the bite wound... But for some reason, now that he knew what the leech was struggling with and helping Geoffrey despite him being so vile all the time... He couldn't bring himself to hate the beast with all his might. He still didn't like him, though, especially the fact that the beast was an arrogant toff with the probably most spoiled childhood imaginable. Although Reid didn't act like as if he was worth more than others. Geoffrey surely would've accused him of it a week ago, but now... 

He shook his head with a groan. There was no other way, the leech had to be messing with his head. It reminded him of that one diary entry where Reid had mentioned the bite. Once Geoffrey got back to headquarters he would definitely look for any documents concerning certain effects of vampire bites. Why else would his defenses be so weak? The leech couldn't possibly charm Geoffrey with his looks alone... Though Geoffrey had no explanation for why he'd do that in the first place. It was pointless to continue making himself crazy over this. He should focus on his current situation instead and how to get the fuck away from the beast and back to Priwen.

As expected, there was another stew waiting for him on the tabletop. Geoffrey didn't resist this time, though he imagined it to taste a little more bland than yesterday. And he was still hungry after finishing it. He almost had the mind to leave now, but just putting his hand on the door knob made him realize he wouldn't make it far. Too much movement still put a strain on the fresh stitches and walking specifically was impossible for him. Almost wheezing he lied down on the hard couch that wasn't half as comfortable as the bed with its unusual amount of blankets. It was somewhat funny to imagine Reid sweeping through the neighborhood of abandoned houses, returning with a pile of clean blankets to wrap Geoffrey in. What the fuck was wrong with the guy? Geoffrey strictly refused to fall asleep in the same room with him, though. And he surely would give the leech a piece of his mind once he woke up to pester him again with new bandages.

It wouldn't get that far. Just as Geoffrey started to doze off, bright daylight flooded the room and a voice called his name. Geoffrey felt dizzy for a second, it had been a long time since he had last been directly exposed to sunlight.

"McCullum! Hey, he's not dead! We found him!" It didn't take a minute for three men to gather around the couch to inspect Geoffrey worriedly with a tad of caution.

"Took you lot long enough," Geoffrey only grunted, sitting up with a groan, his eyes still shut tightly.

"Geoffrey!" It was Harrison who grabbed him by the shoulders to get a better look at him.

"What on earth happened to you?!" he shouted in panic when noticing the heavy bandaging on him.

"M'fine, I just can't fucking walk or I'd have made it back already," Geoffrey tried to calm him down, noting in the back of his mind that he should probably do something about any of them discovering Reid asleep in the adjacent room.

"Why aren't you in a hospital? There are usually no doctors around here!" Vincent Sheen exclaimed visibly bothered, just the moment his brother peeked into the bedroom.

"I can't believe my eyes!" he shouted so loudly Geoffrey's ears almost started ringing. He was way too tired for this.

"It's the fucking leech doctor!" He was very much aware of the look Harrison threw him.

"That's it! He's trapped, nowhere to go for him! Open the curtains, Toby!" Vincent joined his brother exhilarated and Geoffrey's heart sank inside his chest.

"He saved my life!" he shouted at the two of them who froze in their movement.

"He fucking did what?!" Toby repeated unbelieving, his pistol already drawn and pointed towards Reid as far as Geoffrey could tell from the couch.

"You heard me," Geoffrey sighed exasperated.

"A Vulkod almost killed me. I'd have bled out right on this bed if he hadn't found me. I'm not happy with this, but I can't do anything about it." The Sheens still looked unconvinced while Harrison glanced back and forth between them nervously.

"With all due respect, boss, are you telling us to let him go? We will never get this chance again!" Vincent protested.

"Don't worry, lads, we will. It's just not today." Geoffrey heaved himself up with gritted teeth, Harrison immediately holding him steady.

"For now we have to leave him be anyw-..."

"He's moving!" Toby suddenly yelled and Vincent immediately rushed over to remove the curtains. It didn't take a second for Geoffrey to hear a body hitting the ground, followed by a pained gasp before the vampire somewhat managed to blink out of the bedroom to throw himself into a darkened corner of the living room. There he sat on the floor, pressed up against the wall, his eyes flicking around in confusion and fear, his fangs clearly showing behind pulled back lips.

"Not so cocky now, are we, leech?" Vincent mocked him, standing by the still opened door leading outside. If he'd open it any further, the room would be entirely consumed by light. For a moment Geoffrey didn't recognize Reid. His eyes were wild like the ones of a caged animal, claws scraped against the wall behind him and a sound clearly identifiable as a growl left his throat. Geoffrey would've drawn a weapon himself were he able to. But as Reid's gaze suddenly locked with his, something softened in the doctor's manners. His form relaxed a little, the claws vanished and he covered his mouth with one hand. Now he just looked like a scared human sitting in the only dark corner of the room.

"Shoot him, Vince!" Toby encouraged him, but Geoffrey raised his hand.

"Knock it off, would you? He's got nowhere to go anyways at the moment." He freed himself of Harrison's grip and shoved Vincent Sheen aside to approach Reid.

"Geoffrey, don't!" Harrison shouted in shock, but Geoffrey ignored him, watching how Reid's nervous eyes focused on him before he made himself even smaller. He thought Geoffrey was going to kill him now, wasn't he...

"Close the fucking door, Toby," he ordered and every pair of eyes in the room widened.

"No fucking way!" was the rather rude response and Geoffrey turned to him with his darkest glare.

"That's a fucking order, dimwit."

"Geoffrey, I don't think that's a good idea..." Harrison chimed in.

"He's right, boss, that thing will kill us!" Vincent crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"No, he won't. Am I right, leech?" Geoffrey waited for a response as he looked down at the vampire below him.

"O-Of course, I'm sorry..." Reid finally managed to mutter, standing up very slowly to not alert the already frightened hunters.

"I apologize for all of this. I should've gotten to another place to sleep." As if nothing had happened to him, he brushed his clothes and looked into the round with what seemed to be a shy smile. Geoffrey noticed Harrison's jaw drop from the corner of his eye.

"Ouch." Reid shook his sizzling hand as he reached out to fix his hair and accidentally exposed it to the light.

"The fucking door, Toby!" Geoffrey growled without any patience left and at least this time Toby Sheen obeyed, reluctantly however, to close the door by a few inches. His hand was cramped tightly around the doorknob, ready to rip the door back open, should the leech pull any tricks.

"Oh, uhm, thank you," Reid cleared his throat awkwardly before carefully raising his hands to show he was no threat.

"Geoffrey, did he really save you?" Harrison asked tensely, having gripped a stake himself.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Geoffrey sighed in response and Harrison gulped.

"If I may interrupt, McCullum isn't quite out of danger yet," the leech threw in hesitantly.

"Well, that's obvious," Vincent Sheen snorted.

"Yes, I'm fully aware my presence is not helping in this matter, but McCullum's wounds could open up any second the longer he moves around. I wouldn't even recommend standing for too long."

"Look at that, he sounds like a proper doctor!"

"Shut it, Vince," Geoffrey glowered at him and the other man grimaced.

"But I am in fact glad you found him. And please talk some sense into him about not leaving the bed for the next days? Or week, preferably, but I think that might be too much to ask for..." Reid turned to Harrison who nodded in slight astonishment. Geoffrey rolled his eyes.

"You don't know me that well, leech. And by God, it will stay this way."

"Of course. That doesn't change the fact that I still have to do a final check-up before you leave."

"Ha, forget about that, we got our own medics. Ones that don't wanna put their teeth into you once they stitch you up." Geoffrey regretted to have said that the moment Reid's eyes dullened and he looked at the floor.

"I can fully comprehend that. However since you'll be walking back to your base, even with support, let me at least increase the pressure of the bandages."

"If you'll allow me one question... Dr. Reid, was it?" Harrison carefully inspected the beast from a safe distance.

"Yes?" Reid turned to him and the man flinched.

"I was convinced vampires can't be active during the day. But you..." He seemed to be at a loss of words and the leech smiled faintly, perfectly mimicking the human expression in an attempt to reduce the threat he posed.

"Quite frankly, I'm a little tired, but aside from that I guess I'm fine as long as I don't step into the sun."

"It's because you're a fucking weird leech," Geoffrey sneered.

"An abnormality."

"Perhaps. But that's not a bad thing at the moment, is it?" Reid's eyes crinkled, but Geoffrey could see the grief beneath them.

"If it bothers you, you can hold a gun to my head, but please let me readjust your bandages."

"In that case I can be of assistance, boss." Reid didn't even flinch when the barrel of a gun was pressed against his temple.

"I do feel honored, Vince, but I rather trust Harrison with that matter," Geoffrey sighed exhausted and Vincent Sheen backed off disgruntled, being replaced by Harrison who somewhat pointed his gun at the leech's head hesitantly. Still, Geoffrey preferred him over Vincent Sheen's trigger-happy fingers.

"You're seriously letting the leech touch you?!" Toby called out in disbelief and Geoffrey turned to him once again with a groan.

"Well, excuse me then, but do you really want my fucking insides spilled all over the street when getting home? In that case I'll make sure you'll be the one to fucking clean that mess up." Toby gulped at that, seemingly deciding it was better for him to keep his mouth shut.

"I thought so." Geoffrey lowered himself onto the couch and Reid carefully kneeled down in front of him to once again loosen the bandage. When looking at the beast's hands, he felt a shiver run down his spine, recognizing them from his dream. Why in fucking hell would he fantasize about them?! He had the urge to push Reid off him, to tell him to go fuck himself and his hands, and his nose and his unfairly soft hair. Instead he tried not to tense too much, when the leech touched his skin.

"Stop fucking drooling, will ya?" Geoffrey grunted at him as Reid suddenly stopped in his movement to stare at the three slashes adorning Geoffrey's torso. Harrison curled his shaking finger around the trigger.

"Ah, no-... It's not that," Reid quickly looked up in confusion, before focusing again on the injury. Geoffrey's heart freaking betrayed him when it skipped a few beats as a long finger traced the stitches.

"It's just..." The leech's brows were drawn together before he shook his head.

"Nevermind." He cleared his throat when fastening the bandages again, a lot tighter this time, most likely to keep Geoffrey's innards in place during the walk.

"Why are you doing this?" Harrison muttered as he watched Reid work.

"You're a leech. We're your enemies. Yet you never killed a Priwen guard."

"Well, I know this goes against your concept of vampires, but I'm still a doctor," Reid smiled sadly without looking up.

"I want this madness to end as much as you do. I already tried to convince McCullum of our shared goals, but he has a thick skull."

"Don't you dare getting cocky, leech!" Geoffrey growled at him, but the accusation felt somewhat... friendly. As if they weren't natural enemies. Reid chuckled lightly and just the sound of it... It reminded him of his dream. And Geoffrey hated it. The leech just couldn't fuck out of his head, could he...

"You're indeed strange for a vampire," Harrison hummed with a frown.

"I do feel alone a lot of times," Reid sighed in response and Geoffrey really shouldn't feel compassion for a beast. He wasn't even a compassionate person, but those pale eyes... They looked defeated, as if all hope for any happiness was lost forever.

"You're good to go, hunter. Do take care." The leech stood up and stepped away from him back into his corner, should Toby open the door for them to leave.

"Finally..." Geoffrey muttered, making his way into the bedroom to retrieve his coat and weapons.

"We're leaving that thing here? Just like that?" Vincent Sheen shouted upset.

"Have you been asleep during the meeting, Vince?" Geoffrey replied annoyed, the Sheen's were both getting on his nerves today.

"No confrontation until the epidemic is over unless the good doctor slips up in his game of playing sheep inside a wolf's hide."

"And who will keep an eye on that?"

"I take full responsibility of my decisions. So stop asking fucking stupid questions." Geoffrey brushed past Reid whose eyebrows shot up in surprise. Without another word, though unhappy faces, the hunters left the building one by one, even closing the door behind them. The sun didn't feel as welcoming on his skin as Geoffrey had expected. He was going home, but he felt like something was missing.

Chapter Text

Jonathan needed a little time to calm down after the hunters left him. Until Geoffrey's heartbeat faded from his perception, his senses were highly alerted and he had to hold back a snarl forming in his throat. Of course he was glad Geoffrey was able to return to Priwen safely, but at the same time...

They took your human. Take him back!

"No, no, that's not right," Jonathan muttered to himself with closed eyes and a long sigh. He was certain he'd have attacked the guards after having startled him like that, but for some reason, as soon as locking eyes with Geoffrey, the beast inside him had calmed as if suddenly tamed. Jonathan had no strength left to wonder about that further. He should get some sleep. 

Yet on his way to the bedroom, he remembered Geoffrey had slept there. Undeniably the bed would smell of him, and his blood. Jonathan knew his senses would go absolutely crazy. He barely restrained himself from lying down beneath the sheets anyway and fantasize about biting that strong neck, drawing blood in a... gentle way? No, Jonathan would spare himself of that, he'd take the couch... Which Geoffrey also slept on. He could feel his mouth watering... He was too tired for this. 

With no other option left, the good doctor Jonathan Reid lowered himself to the hard wooden floor where he curled up like a cat to pass the time until nightfall.

"What the actual fuck, Reid." 

Jonathan didn't know what he should be happier about. That Geoffrey did indeed show up at the designated place and time, or that the hunter used his name instead of calling him a leech. Either way, his heart was very much impossibly jumping inside his chest, and a somehow content rumbling threatened to leave his mouth. He quickly cleared his throat.

"Geoff-...McCullum, you look a lot better than last week." He managed a smile, but Geoffrey's glare only intensified.

"I hope you made me crawl into this shithole of an alley for more than that." The hunter retrieved a crumpled note from his coat, waving it in front of Jonathan's face. It was the one he'd slipped into Geoffrey's pocket back at the abandoned house.

"Well, yes, and I am in fact very glad you showed up. Though I'm afraid I don't exactly have good news for you."

"Didn't expect anything else from a leech," Geoffrey shrugged, visibly annoyed, but Jonathan didn't have the feeling it was something he'd said. Although it was certainly a miracle the hunter had regained his full mobility over such a short period of time, he did look a little paler than usual with dark rings under his eyes. Running Priwen while down with an injury wasn't the most pleasant thing Jonathan could imagine. 

For a second an image flashed through his mind, how he'd just scoop Geoffrey up, take him somewhere warm and safe and wrap him inside a blanket to make sure he recovered properly. He quickly shook his head. Where were these absurd thoughts even coming from? Did his instincts really want to take care of Geoffrey just so he could feed from him again? He hated how a shiver went through his body thinking of Geoffrey's blood. Even smelling him now... Jonathan should be careful to keep his distance.

"Listen, when I last examined you-..."

"Is this about the fucking bite?" Geoffrey interrupted him, pointing at his neck zaggedly. Jonathan frowned slightly.

"Well, since you're here anyways, I guess it would be wise to inform you about that matter too," he cleared his throat again awkwardly.

"Just great," Geoffrey groaned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"So it seems like, through the bite, I established some kind of bond between us?" Jonathan looked at him carefully, flinching under Geoffrey's cold eyes.

"I-... It's very difficult to explain, but-... according to... vampire magic... I may have, accidentally so, claimed you...?" he barely managed to press out, watching how the hunter's eyes widened and all color drained from his face, before he drew his crossbow in one fluid motion.

"You fucking did what?! I'm just your little bloodbag then, huh? Well, fuck me if that wasn't your plan from the very beginning, you fucking monster," he hissed angrily an a cold spread inside Jonathan's chest he hadn't known he was still capable of feeling.

"I swear to you, McCullum, that was never my intention! I had no idea what I was doing and I truly apologize for every inconvenience it causes you!" He quickly raised his hands in a calming manner, but Geoffrey was seething in front of him, aiming right at his heart. Jonathan wouldn't stop him if he were to fire. But... for some reason he wanted to live.

"Inconvenience?! You call that a fucking inconvenience?!" Geoffrey hollered, stepping forward threateningly, until he was standing right in front of him. Jonathan froze, completely captured by those ocean blue eyes piercing through him.

"I know you saved me from death, leech, but you also almost killed me. And now with these fucking weird thoughts I'm getting because of this..." He slapped his neck, the tip of the bolt pressing against Jonathan's chest.

"Weird thoughts?" Jonathan drew his brows together, trying to keep his lips shut while talking as he felt his fangs lengthening against his own will. Geoffrey was way too close... He smelled so... intoxicating, so warm, so delicious. If he wanted to, he could pull his hunter in and-... bite his neck or just... hold him? He could feel his inner beast suddenly conflicted. Jonathan wanted to back off very badly, but he was still frozen on his spot.

"I have acquired that I may gain some... well, protective urges over you when a threat approaches, but-..."

"Oh, how very ironic! You are a fucking threat, Reid!" Geoffrey sneered, seemingly not intending to step out of Jonathan's personal space. Even with the tension and being this close to a predator, Geoffrey's heart beat a tad too fast. It had to be the injury still taking its toll on him.

"Quite frankly, my instincts do tell me sometimes to protect you from myself, which doesn't exactly make sense, but-... I'm still searching for answers. Can you tell me more about your... thoughts?" Jonathan asked warily and Geoffrey narrowed his eyes, pushing his crossbow even firmer against his body. The hunter then grimaced, seemingly unsure whether to share the information Jonathan could possibly use to his advantage.

"My defenses are fucking down around you," he then snarled, staring right into Jonathan's eyes.

"I should have the urge to pierce your heart, cut off your head and burn the remains, but I do not. Instead I-... This fucking thing!" He showed Jonathan his neck again, but then stumbled backwards in horror. Jonathan followed the motion, and as Geoffrey suddenly gritted his teeth in an expression of pain, he knew the hunter would most definitely crash on the floor. Jonathan had no influence on his next movement as he shadow-stepped behind Geoffrey to catch him before the impact. For a moment their faces were very close, and Jonathan was filled with a warmth he'd never felt before. Simply holding Geoffrey's body... It made him forget about wanting to drink his blood. All he wanted was being close. 

Your human. Make sure he's safe.

Jonathan let go as quickly of him as Geoffrey suddenly pulled out a stake and rammed it into his ribcage. With a pained snarl Jonathan backed off, ripping the wood out of him that luckily missed his heart once again. Was it luck, though? The aim had been off by at least a few inches, and considering it had been Geoffrey... Something was up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jonathan quickly collected himself, healing the hole in his chest, watching Geoffrey carefully who just buried his face in his hands with a groan.

"Just what the fuck is wrong with me?!" he then yelled and Jonathan flinched.

"First I'm baring my neck to a fucking vampire, and then I can't even pierce its heart! This is all fucking your fault!" Geoffrey glared at him angrily, suddenly approaching him again and snatching the stake from his grip wordlessly.

"I... uhm..." Jonathan searched for the right words, finally being able to take a step back from Geoffrey.

"To be honest... the bite shouldn't affect you mentally...? Just me," he dared to express, knowing immediately it was a mistake. Though Geoffrey looked stunned for a moment, then he started shouting again.

"Well, it fucking does! And you better find a solution to it or I'll make sure to aim right next time!"

"I'm working on it. And I'm incredibly sorry, but there's something else I need to tell you."

"Just spit it out, beast," Geoffrey sighed, leaning against the wall as standing obviously took a strain on him. Jonathan almost gave in to his instincts to pick him up again.

"It's about your Vulkod injury. As I bandaged it before you left, I noticed the scarring."

"So what? Is it particularly ugly or something? Or do I get a worst patient award?" Geoffrey still glared at him and Jonathan doubted that would ever change. It made him somewhat sad to think about it.

"That's not it. After three days, the injury already looked a week old. What I'm trying to say here is that you recovered extraordinarily fast." He tensely waited for Geoffrey's reaction, but the latter one just shrugged.

"So what. Everybody's different in that aspect. You should know as a doctor."

"No, McCullum. My point is that a human is unable to heal that fast." Silence fell into the darkened alleyway, the screech of a Skal could be heard in the far distance, but for a moment Jonathan felt like as if time had stopped.

"Are you telling me..." Geoffrey finally looked up to him and his eyes were so full of hatred it physically hurt Jonathan.

"...that I'm not human? That's some audacity you got there, leech."

"Geoffrey, it's not. You smell human, you are definitely human, but-..."

"Don't use my name, beast!" Geoffrey spat at the dirty ground in front of his feet. Jonathan sighed stressed out.

"I fear you came in contact with vampire blood lately," he quickly said, watching Geoffrey's eyes widen in disbelief. 

"I'm pretty positive I'm not stupid enough to drink fucking vampire blood," he then snorted.

"Except that you did. I recently stumbled over evidence that King Arthur was an Ekon..." Jonathan uttered carefully. He heard Geoffrey's heart stuttering inside his chest, before it picked up on speed. He felt panic. 

"Did you notice anything change after our fight in the attic? I mean, it's been almost a month and you obviously haven't turned, so I highly presume the chance of you still doing so is likely nullified. But that doesn't suspend the possibility of leaving any effects behind, may they be permanent or not," Jonathan started rambling. The way Geoffrey just stared at the floor without responding already gave him an answer.

"I'm sure we can figure out what happened to you, McCullum."

"No." To Jonathan's fright, the hunter suddenly started laughing.

"You're a liar, Reid. King Arthur was no Ekon. You're simply playing with my mind, like the fucking demon you are. It's in your nature. You're not any different than the rest of them!"

"McCullum..." Jonathan approached him carefully. Although he was hurt by his words, that reaction had been predictable.

"I just want to help."

"Help?! You want to help me? Tell that fairy tale someone else! You're a leech, Reid, and I will never trust you. However much you pretend to be a doctor, a human, you will always be what you are. A fucking menace to mankind, a wolf among sheep, an unchallenged predator.

You're a corpse reanimated by a blood-hungry beast, copying human expressions and emotions to lure your prey. And you'll be alone, leech. Alone for all eternity except for the souls you took! You know I'm right and I can prove it to you once again!" Geoffrey shouted madly and suddenly pulled out a knife, cutting his wrist deeply. The world stood still once again. 

The smell of the blood hit Jonathan heavily, sweet and delicious redness invading his mind, making his fangs ache and his mouth water. His senses shouted at him to claim it, devour his prey, just like Geoffrey had said. But the hunter's words made his vision of red ebb away like the tide. How could he be hungry after those words... How could he crave the blood of a person that was so important to him without being a monster? His gaze was fixed on Geoffrey's wrist, his fangs long and painful inside his mouth, his throat dry and rough. The more time passed, the more confused the hunter got, untightening his grip on his stake, his brows pulled up into a frown, the blood on his wrist dropping onto the floor unbothered.

"Are those... tears...?" A human wouldn't have heard Geoffrey mutter those words, but it was the moment Jonathan realized he'd been crying. But he didn't have the power to wipe away the streams of blood running down his cheeks. He just stood there, Geoffrey's words echoing through his head, even his beast was lying on its back in defeat, howling in pain, demanding no more blood. He didn't know why he couldn't handle this situation. He just couldn't. It was new, strange, frightening. Without another word Jonathan stepped into the shadows and vanished. Fleeing for the first time from Geoffrey, who shouted at him in confusion. But Jonathan knew he had to keep his distance. He couldn't allow himself to get close to Geoffrey ever again.

Geoffrey was left dumbfounded for a while in the dark alley, now suddenly alone.

"Reid?" he finally called out, somewhat unbelieving that the other had just fled.

"Oi, leech, come back here!" The more moments passed the more the realization set in that the leech doctor was out of range. Geoffrey knew his words were never the kindest, but they hadn't upset Reid this much before. And he was crying... probably. Why else would blood come out of his freaking eyes? Geoffrey didn't know vampires could do that. But he didn't know vampires could do a lot of things before meeting Reid. Or was the man just an exception?

"Fucking hell..." Geoffrey let himself drop shoulder first against the cold stonewall, closing his hand around the cut on his wrist. As far as he could tell the beast almost showed no reaction. Geoffrey had expected him to jump him right away, baring his fangs before going for the open wound like any goddamn ordinary leech would do. 

"Shite..." Geoffrey started to feel dizzy, he'd hurt himself in a frenzy, determined to prove his point, that Reid was just a bloodhungry monster. But now... He felt confused and tired... And he had a lot to think about.

"Boss, you were supposed to stay in bed!" Harrison looked at him in shock as Geoffrey entered his office with a loud huff, dragging himself to his desk where he rummaged through the drawers for a bandage.

"I had some business to take care of," Geoffrey responded gruffly and Harrison stared at his bloodied wrist in horror.

"What in hell happened to you?"

"None of your business."

"Geoff, you need to rest or else you'll never fully recover!" Harrison approached him in worry, but for some reason Geoffrey felt anger rise inside of him.

"Would you do me the favor and finally fuck off?!" he raged and Harrison flinched before retreating with a hurt expression.

"I'll check on you later then..." he muttered quietly before exiting the office.

"Fuck." After poorly treating his wrist Geoffrey buried his head in his hands, putting his elbows on the top of the desk. He was an absolute mess. First of all the bond Reid had talked about... So they were connected through some wicked vampire magic after all. Just great. Though why would the bite only affect the leech's mind and not his? Reid had to be wrong about it, if he didn't straight up lie that was. Why else would Geoffrey suddenly start seeing him as a person? One that he deemed attractive too on top of that...

On top of that was the matter of King Arthur. He couldn't have been an Ekon, Geoffrey knew that. But at the same time... He hadn't noticed any changes about himself since the fight in the attic, and if he did, he'd blamed them on the bite. But now things he hadn't spared another thought suddenly made sense. Geoffrey surely hadn't developed a taste for fucking blood, but he did recall that his preference for extremely rare steaks came out of nowhere as soon as he fled the Pembroke after Reid had put him there.

Sometimes he felt more awake at night than usually and was unable to resolve any paperwork during the day. And although he'd missed the feeling of sunlight on his skin for many, many years, he somewhat didn't crave it anymore. The most obvious change was how fast indeed his wounds seemed to heal, though. Not as fast as to alert any of Priwen's medics except for a raised brow, but Geoffrey knew himself the Vulkod injury should've taken him out way longer, if not killed him on the spot. But to think he drank vampire blood... There was no way. Reid wanted to deceive him. To manipulate him and catch him in his weakest moment. For what purpose though? The beast had him in his grasp for several days with Geoffrey lying on a bed immobile like a dish on a silver plate. Reid hadn't harmed him in any way.

And instead of showing gratitude or treating the doctor like a person, he hurt him with his horrible words. Again and again until Reid just broke down and fled. He should apologize. He definitely should. But would he...?

"Still a fucking leech, though..." he hissed to himself and balled his hands into fists. He wouldn't just throw over his ideals for one fucking beast. What would become of Carl's legacy, of Priwen, if Geoffrey started treating a leech like a person? He couldn't just throw everything away he believed in. He desperately tried to hold the pieces together that formed his world, but he eventually had to realize it already crumbled under a pair of gentle and elegant hands reaching for his.

Geoffrey expected a nightmare the time he finally fell into a restless sleep with his wrist still aching and his head bursting with thoughts he'd locked away since the day Carl found him. Yet he opened his eyes to the white curtains fluttering in the wind. Something was off, though. No warm body was pressed against his, no arms were wrapped around him. No deep smooth voice humming melancholic tunes. 

Geoffrey held his breath. He would've preferred any nightmare over this. Anything to protect his save haven, his dream of... home. For a moment he thought he was alone until he heard sobbing behind him. Quiet and soft, as if not daring to bother Geoffrey.

"I'm sorry..." Geoffrey whispered without even thinking about it. That the man lying to his back could be someone else than Jonathan Reid didn't even occur to him. And he knew he should be alarmed by that a lot more, but Geoffrey couldn't bring himself to care about his ideals at the moment. Not when it came to this dream... He knew he was horribly contradicting himself in every manner, and it took him a while to finally open his mouth, feeling like the worst hypocrite alive.

"Reid..." he muttered dejectedly and the sobbing stopped. Geoffrey didn't dare to turn around, the dream would end, he could feel it in the wind picking up, as it blew through the thin fabric of the curtains.

"I deserve pain and death. I deserve Geoffrey's hatred." Reid's words from his notebook resounded behind him in a broken voice.

"No..." Geoffrey bit his lip. What was he doing? What was he supposed to do?

"No." He stared at the cobwebs decorating the darkest corner of his narrow bedroom.

"Fucking hell..." Geoffrey knew by the fatigue pressing on him that it was still bright outside and dusk far away. He didn't want to go back to sleep, but he had no choice if he wanted his body to function correctly. At least his wish was fulfilled and his dreams were regular nightmares instead. Him turning into a leech because of King Arthur's blood, desperately trying to find a way to end his unlife, and to top it all Carl yelling at him for letting Reid run around freely before ramming a stake through Geoffrey's heart. His subconsciousness truly outdid itself there.

"Please forgive me, I'm late." Jonathan rubbed the back of his head apologetically in front of Dorothy Crane while setting up his equipment on the table next to him.

"For a creature that can turn into shadow you're indeed very late, Jonathan." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and Jonathan cleared his throat. When Crane was agitated she'd always poke at his non-human traits.

"It was an emergency," he informed her without letting her ask, and averted his gaze.

"That Irishman again?" She clicked her tongue in annoyance and Jonathan suddenly couldn't decide whether to breathe or not, so his voice hitched awkwardly.

"W-What?" Dorothy rolled her eyes before taking the medicine splayed out on the table.

"Everything's about him with you. Geoffrey this, Geoffrey that, it's bad for business since you're so distracted."

"Well, considering my..." Jonathan took time to adjust his collar in an attempt to appear collected.

"...condition, I'm afraid I won't find a way around the Guard of Priwen." He followed Crane to her shabby improvised office where she sorted the vials orderly into a crooked shelf.

"Except that you can." Her sharp gaze pierced him.

"You know, I still carry a cross with me when you're coming over. Don't take it personally, but I'm just a human. As far as I understand you could knock on Priwen's front door and get nothing but a few scratches." Jonathan shuddered under her implication. He was just about to utter his discomfort when she continued.

"It wouldn't be a long fight either. And you wouldn't have to bother with Priwen ever again."

"I... Dorothy..." Jonathan waited until she really looked at him, like a judge expecting the one right answer from him.

"Whatever I do, I will fail to make anyone comprehend how hard it is to not lash out when attacked. As a doctor I won't hurt anyone, however hostile they may be towards me, as long as no one else's safety is in danger. And I will keep to my oath." Dorothy sighed once in defeat, smoothing her bloodied apron.

"And that's why I still let you inside the dispensary, Doctor. All I'm saying is that you don't have to make your life so difficult all the time."

"I don't live, Nurse," Jonathan responded dryly and turned away to hide his frown.

"My whole existence is wrong. I can only live for others now until I'm not needed anymore."

The words lingered in his mind long after he left and he thought of Geoffrey calling him a pretentious beast damned to be alone for eternity.

Harrison flinched heavily as he walked into Geoffrey's office, books scattered all over the floor, and the leader of Priwen himself sitting on the ground and digging through old files from Eldritch's time.

"Uhm, Geoffrey?" Geoffrey's eyes shot up to the disturbing presence threateningly quick and Harrison flinched a second time.

"Can I help you with something?" he offered despite knowing it was pointless.

"Yeah," Geoffrey sneered coldly.

"Walk out of the room and close the fucking door behind you."

"Listen, Geoff..." Harrison opted to sit down on a few cast away pages littering the ground across from Geoffrey instead.

"I'm worried. Everyone else goes about their business as usual, but I haven't seen you eating for days. Hell, I even miss that retching smell of your fucking steak." Geoffrey finally gazed at him to at least pretend to listen.

"So let me help with whatever hell you've thrown yourself into."

"Nope, not happening, change of topic." He threw another pile of tattered documents behind him in hope of getting Harrison to leave.

"Uh... Since you insist... I've been thinking about Reid." Geoffrey had expected a lot of things, but not this.

"You what now?" he asked flatly, effectively hiding his inner turmoil that started because of Reid's name only.

"Well he... He was a lot different than I imagined. He didn't even really look like a leech, I swear if I had met him on the street, I wouldn't even have-..." Harrison scrambled but was interrupted by Geoffrey's cold laughter.

"So he's got you too in his claws. Just great. And he didn't even have to bite you to fucking trust him like a naïve little lamb on its way to the butcher."

"Geoffrey... You must admit if he fought for us-..."

"No! He's a fucking leech!" Geoffrey raised his voice to an extent where it hurt his own head. But Harrison didn't back down, nor did he lose his patience with him.

"Just give it a thought. You know we're currently losing more men to Barlow and his goons than to some meaningless Skals. I know you care about your men, Geoffrey. That's why I'd follow you into the worst leech lair to ever exist. But we need to weigh our options." The way Geoffrey stared quietly at the mess he'd created on the floor seemed to encourage Harrison to keep going.

"If we could get Reid to work for us, we could spare a lot of lives, however strange that sounds."

"So you suppose we hand him a fucking job offering, invite him for an interview and make him send us his splendid resume of how many leeches he ended?" Geoffrey grunted humorlessly.

"Yes," Harrison responded with an upward quirk of his mouth.

"Even so, no one in Priwen will accept a leech on our side. So just scratch that off your list..." Geoffrey sighed exhausted, especially having his fiery second in command Astrid Muller in mind.

"Oh, they will. And I'll personally convince Astrid once she's back from Scotland. As long as you can show them he's under control. Just a tool for us to use."

"That's unexpectedly cold of you, Jasper." Geoffrey narrowed his eyes as he studied Harrison's face for any clues to give him away.

"It's just for display, Geoff. As soon as we're in private, we can treat him like an ordinary person."

Geoffrey bit back to not immediately scold him for referring to Reid as a person.

"So. We ask Reid to fight and risk his life for us, while we treat him like shite and pay him nothing at all?" he concluded with a sneer, half amused.

"How miserable would someone be to accept?" But Harrison's determined gaze told him already. He'd seen the despair in those pale eyes, just as Geoffrey had. And he knew best just how shitty of a deal Reid would take to uphold his tiring work as a doctor.

Yet Geoffrey couldn't fathom the idea of letting Reid anywhere near him, at least not until the whole bite matter was resolved. And even then... It scared Geoffrey that he did want him close sometimes. His mind was a fucking disaster.

"So..." Harrison looked at him carefully from below, having picked up a greyish folder.

"This is about your bite, right?" Geoffrey glared at him and slapped his neck simultaneously.

"You could see Talltree, you know? As a last resort..."

"Seriously? You know I lose my temper every time I meet that mysterious sneak?" He rolled his eyes, but Harrison's gaze didn't leave him.

"Fine... I'll figure something out as long as you let the Reid matter drop," he then gave in, but already knew Harrison would definitely not give up on it. Geoffrey was mostly glad to have him at his side, and at the times he wasn't, he still knew that Harrison was in the right. Hell would probably break loose if Geoffrey listened to his inner urges to just smash everything into tiny pieces; All the Skals of London, Barlow and his group of traitors, and Reid. Why could he see him so clearly before him? Sad pale eyes, the hurt furrow of his brows and hunched shoulders.

Geoffrey shook his head, snapping out of it. If he couldn't get the situation under control soon, it would be his downfall. He would avoid Reid for now, and he knew the leech would avoid him too. How could he not, after what you said to him. His chest tightened painfully. It was the fucking bite that made him feel this way. It had to be. Geoffrey truly hoped, and at the same time didn't, that it was true.

Chapter Text

Despite his best efforts, Jonathan was unable to get Geoffrey off his mind. His glares, sneers and cold laughter were a constant companion, and Jonathan sometimes wished he'd never approached the hunter that night. The worst part were his lingering thoughts, or rather the thoughts of his beast. He sometimes caught himself imagining his lips against Geoffrey's neck, the sweet redness just beneath his skin... A shudder went through him, his fangs suddenly uncomfortably long in his mouth. He remembered his heart dropping in disappointment after visiting Elisabeth again just to find her unlucky in her research. He seemed to be on his own, and only had the means of work to distract himself.

"Jonny, you listening?"

Jonathan flinched as Clarence reached out to shake him slightly by the shoulder. He almost snarled and quickly managed to cover his mouth with his hand.

"Are you alright?" Clarence's frown deepened, the dim light of the street lantern illuminating the dark rings under his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Clarence, you were saying?" Jonathan quickly collected himself, but his friend didn't let go of him.

"I'm worried about you! The streets of London are packed with vampires, yet you frequent the districts on a nightly basis! You must stop before something happens to you!" he pleaded.

"Don't worry, my friend, I'm doing quite alright so far. The streets will never be as dangerous as the war after all," Jonathan tried to comfort him by reaching out and patting his arm. God, human contact had been awkward before his death, but now he felt even more distant to his relations. His mother didn't say it out loud, but Jonathan knew every time she saw him she wished him gone. As if his presence was destroying her carefully constructed illusion of her son. It hurt. He only had the heart to drop by once a week.

"But the vampires, Jonny! They're beasts too strong for you to defend yourself against! You must stay in the West End, I beg you!" Clarence almost shook him again and Jonathan took a step back.

"I value your concern, but you know I can't abandon my work."

"That's what I thought you'd say... You'll never change," Clarence sighed in defeat and Jonathan's chest tightened at the bitter irony.

"And that's why I'll do my part as well. Have you heard of the Guard of Priwen?"

"Aren't they a gang of sorts...?" Jonathan asked carefully, feeling cold all of a sudden although he shouldn't be able to.

"They're professional vampire hunters! I'm not crazy, you see? The monsters exist and those people set an end to them. This is what I must do!" It pained Jonathan to see that this seemed to be the only topic where his friend regained the youthful shine to his eyes that he lost during the war. Yet he couldn't allow Clarence to join the guard, for he'd never look at him again the same way. He shuddered at the image of Clarence wielding a sabre and flinging the words filthy leech at him.

"No, Clarence, listen. You've already endured the war, there's no need for you to throw yourself into another. Besides, think about Venus! She must be worried sick!" Jonathan took him by the shoulders, letting the slightest bit of mesmerism influence his tone. He hoped it would be enough...

"Y-Yes, you're right, Jonny. I should look after Venus."

The dull look in a person's eyes after he'd mesmerized them always made him feel awful. It was sick, forcing the human mind to obey him, and he could swear he lost a part of his own sparse humanity whenever he used it.

"Take care, Clarence. Try to get some rest," Jonathan sighed as he retreated, leaving the other man to himself. He let out an even deeper sigh once he melted into the shadows of a narrow alleyway. The streetlights of the main road had been hurting his eyes, here in the dark he felt more welcomed. 

He should get back to the hospital, knowing that if he lingered too long, his thoughts would stray to the hunter with his irresistible smell... Jonathan resented himself as he felt his mouth watering and his fangs elongating once more. Great, now he had to catch a Skal to sate the sudden surge of hunger. He'd make his way to Pembroke over the docks where he'd most definitely find a meal and evade the theatre at the same time, not risking to actually smell Geoffrey's blood and lose himself completely.

What he couldn't understand at all were his instincts when it came to the matter of the hunter. For once, his beast wanted to bite him and revenge itself for the hurtful words the hunter had thrown at him during their last encounter. At the same time when thinking of Geoffrey's blue hateful eyes, Jonathan just wanted to curl up in a dark corner and feel miserable for the rest of his existence. And another part, the weakest one by far, would imagine Geoffrey by his side. So close, he'd be able to run a hand through his hair, feel the radiating warmth of his body and listen to the rhythmic beat of his heart like a tender melody Jonathan couldn't get enough of. He had no idea where that thought came from, but he suddenly wondered what Geoffrey looked like when he smiled. If he ever smiled, that was. Or whether Jonathan would some day be able to make him do so.

"I must be hungrier than I thought..." he scolded himself as he picked up his pace, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He had to solve this situation as quickly as possible, staying away from Geoffrey had to be his priority.

"Would you look at that. Geoffrey McCullum, Priwen's infamous leader at my doorstep. I almost had the mind to set up some traps." 

Geoffrey's already miserable mood sunk even lower at the view of Usher Talltree's piercing gaze, his sly eyes taking him apart to analyse every thought passing his mind.

"I guess you already know why I came here..." he grunted, stepping down the stairs of the underground construction below temple church and letting himself fall onto the hard wooden chair across from Talltree's desk.

"Yes. Ironically your matter is so simple you needn't even sit down, for it shall be discussed quickly, but since it's you..." Talltree took off his glasses to spare Geoffrey a disapproving glance.

"You will most likely have trouble processing the information and shout random obscenities at me."

"Aren't you one unhelpful bastard..." Geoffrey muttered under his breath, not exactly knowing why he'd come in the first place. It was the goddamn look on Harrison's face pleading him to seek every source of information available.

"Yet here we are, the primate of the brotherhood and a renowned vampire hunter who has recently conversed quite a lot with his so called nemesis." Talltree put his glasses back on with a small superior smirk. Fucking snake...

"I don't get that fucking righteous leech. I know he bit me on purpose to curse me with these... mind tricks. It's screwing me completely over!" he complained and Talltree nodded, seemingly paying more attention to his cards.

"You will soon find, McCullum, that you don't know nearly as much as you think you do."

"What's that supposed to mean? And does the brotherhood have information about this kind of bite or not, because I feel like I'm wasting my time here," he grumbled slightly offended, his patience waning.

"Your time is not my concern. Yet I think the outcome of this whole ordeal will humour me if I help you comprehend what you're dealing with." Again that sneaky smile... Geoffrey did find it somewhat punchable at the moment.

"Enlighten me then." Instead he leant back, clasping his hands.

"I'm sure this might sound odd to you, but," Talltree let out an exasperated sigh as if he was about to explain to a kid why they couldn't have candy for dinner.

"Has it occured to you that you simply harbour romantic feelings for the good doctor?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Talltree seemed to have known what was coming as he leant back to avoid Geoffrey's spit flying over the table as the latter one got up with such vigor to send his chair flying.

"And there we have the obscenities..." Talltree sighed in defeat as Geoffrey fell into a wild hollering of curses and not very mature insults.

"Knew this was a waste," he then concluded before simply turning, leaving Talltree way too calm for his liking. Maybe he should've punched the bastard at least once for insinuating something unspeakable like that.

"McCullum, you can hide it all you want, but you can't hide from yourself," Talltree said in an almost compassionate tone as Geoffrey stomped up the stairs.

"How dare you!" He turned around one more time to glower at the man with his finger pointed at him.

"First of all, that thing is a goddamn leech, as far from humanity as possible!" Sad pale eyes flashed in his mind, cheeks red with bloody tears, a low baritone uttering his name.

"And second, Reid is a man! It's disgusting and wrong on many levels!" Geoffrey roared, willing the pictures away.

"McCullum." Talltree got up with a tired groan, picking up the chair from the floor and returning it to its original position.

"You can be honest."

"I am fucking honest, dipshit! Why would you even assume-..." Geoffrey lost his voice as he noticed the look on Talltree's face. That knowing look. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, anger rising inside him quickly, bursting to the surface.

"You! You can't know that!" It was almost satisfactory how Talltree jumped back when Geoffrey approached him with wide steps.

"You have no right to know!" he yelled, yet had no strength for anything else as he felt his heart twinge in panic, shame and helplessness.

"Calm down, McCullum, you're not the only gay man in London!" Talltree raised his hands defensively while Geoffrey paced in front of him seething.

"I don't care! How can you know this about me? Do you have any idea how fucking hard I worked to keep this a secret?!" He could barely restrain himself from finally throwing a well-deserved punch. At the same time he could feel the energy leaving his body. Geoffrey felt pathetic, ridiculous. He'd never breached the topic with anyone before, and now he did it with someone he mildly despised.

"McCullum, it's alright," Talltree tried once more, visibly relaxing as Geoffrey turned away from him once again.

"You need to let go of your conviction that something is wrong with you. It doesn't make you a lesser man wanting to have a partner of the same sex. Even from my very objective point of view, I can assure you that Jonathan Reid is indeed an attractive individual with many charming qualities. Does it help if I tell you that he has gained the interest of at least half of the West End?"

"Shut you mouth before I shut it for you," was all Geoffrey uttered darkly without looking at the other, instead leaving like he'd planned to do.

"Well, that went as well as it could. The other one will be a lot more affable, I'm sure..." he still heard Talltree mutter as he made his way out, eagerly awaiting to breathe in the fresh night air. Geoffrey only knew one way to calm down, and that was throwing himself recklessly into a battle. He had to get away from the West End.

"The cemetery it is," he murmured to himself, counting his stakes and reaching to his waist once to feel for the Vulkod injury, trying to push away the reoccurring sensation of large and cold hands on his skin.

"My immortal brother! I sincerely hope you have acquired some blood for us to share!"

Jonathan cleared his throat loudly as he passed Howcroft's bed during his round in the hospital, yet he received an almost malicious chuckle from Hawkins and a pair of raised brows from Strickland, who were tending to the patients nearby. Of course Howcroft's changed attitude towards him didn't go unnoticed by most of the staff. Sometimes Jonathan wished he'd mesmerized her, but deleting such a huge chunk of memory out of her mind...? He didn't want to risk it.

"How did you do it?" Thomas Elwood uttered at him with a mild glare as he went to check on the man's health.

"Do what?" Jonathan asked, hoping to mask any insecurity with his professionalism.

"Oh come on, doctor, don't play stupid. All Thelma talks about is you. How you two rule the night and hunt humans for fun in various animal forms..."

"That is... oddly specific," Johnathan finally decided to answer, idly checking his notebook to see who he needed to see next.

"You know Ms Howcroft and what her reality looks like. Don't interpret too much into it," he gave Elwood as final advice and turned to leave.

"Yes, Dr Reid. I do know what her reality looks like. And that's why it doesn't make any sense she'd think you a vampire for no reason. What did you do when you retrieved her outside a few weeks ago?" He could feel Elwood stare long and hard at his back. Jonathan kept walking.

His shift ended a few hours before dawn and he felt absolutely robbed of all energy. He wasn't exactly hungry, but there was a void in his heart that he desperately needed to fill. Visiting Mary would help him, although talking to a cold rough headstone wouldn't provide him with any answers. Mary would have known what to do... about Clarence, Howcroft and Geoffrey. Jonathan saw her in front of him, reaching for his hand with a cheeky smile, telling him how stupid he was before showing him the right path. He quickly covered his eyes with one hand. He'd save his tears for the cemetery.

Successfully avoiding two Priwen patrols and with a somewhat sluggish annoyance taking out three Skals without receiving a scratch, he gathered a few daisies on the way to Mary's grave. He knew the petite flowers looked ridiculous, too simple and meaningless to pay any respects to his sister. But they reminded Jonathan of the time when they were children. When they'd sit in the garden with the sun warming their backs and Mary braiding wreaths of daisies before placing them on his head. Now you're almost as pretty as me, she'd say and laugh when Jonathan got offended.

"You know I was always bad at making them," he mumbled, pain lacing his voice as he knelt down, gently placing the daisies in front of the tombstone. It was a clear night, so eerily quiet, it took Jonathan a moment to realize it were his senses simply shutting down around him as he felt the first tears dwell up in his eyes. Mary's name engraved in the stone was caught by the moonlight and Jonathan buried his head in his hands as time passed by.

"You're trying really hard, don't you?"

The second these words were thrown at him in a degrading tone, Jonathan sprung up startled, his lips pulled back to snarl at whatever presence had disturbed him. The moment his eyes locked with Geoffrey's, he felt a coldness spread through him, freezing him in place as he tried not to breathe in the hunter's scent.

"Pretending to mourn for your sister you killed? That's a new low, leech." Geoffrey raised his freshly bloodied blade at him as a reaction to Jonathan's bared fangs.

"Can you not..." Jonathan's voice was shaking so much, he wasn't sure Geoffrey could hear him. He stepped back when the hunter approached him with the tip of his sword still pointed at his heart. He looked like he wanted to open his mouth, sneer at Jonathan in disgust and strike him with his words once more. But Jonathan was quicker.

"It hurts, you know?! I'm well aware of what I am, you don't have to rub it in my face every chance you get!" he shouted at him in a fit of repressed emotions. Geoffrey blinked at him once, lowering his sword unawarely as he seemingly couldn't decide how to respond.

"I loved her, for God's sake!" Jonathan felt his voice crack, quickly wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He didn't want the other man to see him cry. It reminded him too much of their last encounter, of Geoffrey's accusations and the hatred burning in his eyes. Although he couldn't see any of it right now. If it was guilt instead he saw flashing in those blue orbs, Jonathan knew he imagined it.

"Have you any idea how much I hate myself? I do have feelings, what a shock for you, hunter!" he laughed out almost viciously, causing Geoffrey to tighten the grip on his sword again. Yet he listened. He did not attack, neither verbally nor physically, just watching Jonathan with that look he could simply not interpret.

"So don't take this from me too. I have no one left to tell the truth to. Nothing except that grave." His voice quieted down, it didn't matter to him what Geoffrey did now. Whether he'd leave or stay, behead him or respond.

"What is the truth then." He sounded less gruff than Jonathan had ever heard him speak. It wasn't even a question, just something to keep him there, something that assured Jonathan he had truly been listening for the very first time. He carefully dared to look into Geoffrey's eyes once again, watching him warily, yet attentive. Time seemed to slow down the longer he observed the hunter in the light of the moon, the blood of Skals sprinkled all over his torn coat, the puff of hot air leaving his mouth and the redness of his cheeks due to the chill of the night.

"I'm still a person," Jonathan finally answered quietly and averted his eyes to the ground.

"Reid." 

Jonathan was so taken aback by Geoffrey actually using his name, he flinched.

"You know I can't consider you a person. Everything that defines me is built on leeches being heartless beasts." As he raised his gaze to the hunter again, it was the conflicted look in his cast away eyes, that made Jonathan speak up.

"Then why don't you choose yourself what you're defined by?" It was nothing more than a whisper, but he knew Geoffrey heard him by the way he took a deep breath and eventually sheathed his sword.

"It's not that simple. My whole life would've been a lie."

"You saved many lives, McCullum. You said it yourself, I'm an abnormality. Nothing else changes." Jonathan softened his voice, simply shouting out his pain earlier had helped him a lot. He wanted to get closer to the hunter, surprisingly without hunger clouding his senses. He just wanted to... help him with his struggle. Reach out for a reassuring touch... And maybe let your teeth tenderly graze his neck, his beast chimed in, but Jonathan discarded that thought quickly.

"Yet I can't... I can't make this exception for you!" Geoffrey gritted his teeth, his eyes searching with no avail through the dark to focus on something that wasn't Jonathan.

"Why not?" Jonathan carefully inched one step closer, feeling like this sudden frail trust between them could break any second.

"Humans can be good or evil, why can't vampires be?"

"Because monsters are evil by definition!" Geoffrey growled, his eyes snapping to him as if daring him to get any closer.

"And who is the judge of that?" Jonathan did feel bad for Geoffrey when he clutched his forehead with one hand as if he suffered from a sudden migraine. He couldn't imagine what it had been like... A lifetime of hunting and killing vampires and then stumbling upon one that didn't want to kill you back.

"Why...?" Geoffrey pressed out almost pained, yet Jonathan didn't dare to approach him any further.

"Why can't you just fuck out of my head, leech?" the hunter threw at him as if he expected an answer. Jonathan opened his mouth, but closed it quickly when Geoffrey went on.

"You fucking bit me, so you must at least have some control over me! I can't handle this anymore, so just... leave my fucking thoughts alone!"

Geoffrey hated the way Reid looked at him with a worried frown, as if he truly cared about Geoffrey's well-being. He'd noticed the beast getting closer to him, but he wouldn't allow one more step without drawing his blade. At least the leech seemed to know its boundaries as it didn't advance any further. Geoffrey hated himself deeply for wanting Reid closer at the same time.

"McCullum, I promise I'm not doing anything to you! If there's something corrupting your mind, you must tell me! It could be another Ekon or perhaps the blood of King Arthur." Reid glanced at him with an alarmed gaze, and a heavy lump formed in Geoffrey's throat. The beast had no idea. Yet it could only be him messing with his head. Why else would Geoffrey-...? 

Romantic feelings. Talltree popped up in front of his inner eye and Geoffrey shattered that image with all his might.

"No!" he just growled at Reid, who winced in response.

"It's all you, leech! You're manipulating me to not fucking hate you like I'm supposed to!" It was quiet all of a sudden as the vampire's eyes widened, and he blinked at Geoffrey almost innocently.

"Y-You don't hate me?" he then stuttered seemingly flustered, and Geoffrey couldn't help it as the word cute came up in his mind. Fuck. Something was really wrong with him.

"Oh trust me, I want to, but you're fucking with my head, aren't you?! Just admit it, beast!" Geoffrey spat out in contempt, when he suddenly perceived a low rumbling sound from Reid. He didn't waste any time to unsheath his sword and the leech jumped back startled, yet the noise didn't stop. For some reason it didn't sound like a growl.

"What are you doing?" Geoffrey frowned heavily at him, while the beast looked very much uncomfortable in his own skin.

"I... I'm sorry, I can't stop it," he tried clearing his throat, but the soft noise continued. Geoffrey realized with a slight skip of his heart he sounded like a purring cat. Reid covered his mouth to somewhat muffle the sound and Geoffrey failed to recall an encounter where he might have heard it before. Goddamnit, the leech was fucking weird. And cute. Shite.

"Was it something I said?" Geoffrey grunted, waving with his sword at him.

"Uhm..." Jonathan shot him a nervous glance, still failing to silence himself.

"You said you didn't hate me..." he then admitted quietly and Geoffrey felt a new riot starting to erupt in his mind. The leech was happy. As if he had actual emotions. Furthermore, it mattered to him what Geoffrey thought about him.

"Well, I would if it wasn't for you!" He knew that sentence made absolutely no sense, but Geoffrey couldn't take it any longer. Fucking hell, he wanted to reach out and touch Reid's face, place a hand on his chest to feel that gentle rumbling vibrate beneath his palm. He should very much want to stake him instead.

"At least leave my dreams alone!" he shouted to drown out those very loud thoughts, realizing too late it had been a mistake to bring up his dreams.

"Your dreams?" At least the purring sound started to subside. Geoffrey swallowed hard. He had to get away.

"What... What am I doing in your dreams? Am I hurting you?" Reid called out in shock, but Geoffrey shook his head. No, he was far from hurting him.

"It's early. If you don't want to be burned to a crisp you should get the fuck out of here," he grumbled instead, turning his back to him and starting to walk.

"McCullum!"

He didn't stop as the leech called after him.

"I promise I'll find out what's going on. I won't let anything happen to you!"

Geoffrey didn't know why these words would warm his chest, but they did.

He was barely able to fall asleep this morning, even though he was completely exhausted. It surprised him as much as it did not, when he was welcomed by white curtains. This was still his dream, wasn't it? And the person behind him merely adapted to Geoffrey's impressions of his daily, or rather nightly, life. Or so he told himself. Again, there were no arms wrapped around him, but he could feel the chill of a cold back barely touching his.

"Why you?" he murmured powerlessly.

"Why don't you choose for yourself what defines you?" Reid spoke back and Geoffrey sighed.

"I don't hate you." His voice was weak and there was no response, but Geoffrey didn't expect any. He didn't actually know enough about Reid for his subconsciousness to form a decent picture of him.

"Can you... hold me again?" he finally whispered. He just wanted his dream back, that was all. He wanted it to be like before, where he lie silent in the embrace of a man his mind conjured for him, a home just for so long the dream would last.

"Do you really want me to?" That voice... If it would only belong to another man, to a... person. No, he didn't want the leech to touch him.

"Yes," Geoffrey exhaled and waited anxiously. He heard movement behind him and tightly shut his eyes as two cold arms wrapped around his chest and soft hair pressed against his back. His dream would never be like before. For he now lay with a leech instead of a human. Geoffrey should be repulsed. Yet his eyes remained closed as a shiver went through him. It was oh so wrong, but felt so right.

Chapter Text

Jonathan didn't know why, but he felt a lot better the next night after the cemetery. As if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Oh, he knew exactly why. Geoffrey told him he didn't hate him. And when he'd looked at him his eyes were... almost soft. Or it was Jonathan's fantasy purely imagining things. 

But simply thinking of the hunter made him feel all giddy inside with the wish to be this close to him once more. Still, if Geoffrey's mind was indeed manipulated by another presence, he should look into it. And he should definitely figure out the consequences if a human drank the blood of a long deceased Ekon. And there was the matter of the bite. If it did influence Geoffrey the same as him after all, he wondered if the hunter sometimes had the same thoughts about him. About holding him close, perhaps. Or just their hands brushing on a walk along the Thames. Maybe a calm night in front of the lit fireplace, one hand holding a book and the other gently nestled in Geoffrey's hair, who was sleeping in his lap...

"This can't be good..." Jonathan groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. That just had been a very vivid picture indeed... He knew himself those urges weren't real. That they were only a byproduct of the bite. Yet a tiny voice inside him sometimes wished they weren't. He didn't know why and it scared him. If Geoffrey knew he had those thoughts about him... He'd drive a stake through him without hesitation.

"If it isn't London's most dangerous of all night creatures coming to see me I might as well put my cards down for good." Talltree raised one eyebrow as Jonathan somewhat unceremoniously peeked around the corner to see if his presence was accepted. He always considered people knowing about him not wanting to have him around.

"Your shyness is quite amusing considering you could simply twist my mind were things not going your way," the man chuckled and gestured towards the chair across from him. Jonathan finally approached Talltree, still contemplating whether it had been a good idea to come here. The primate of the stole knew a lot of things after all, but that was also the part Jonathan was uncomfortable with. Yet he cleared his throat as he sat down, even hanging his coat over the backrest, before meeting Talltree's curious eyes.

"Uhm, so... I came here because-..." he started awkwardly, but got interrupted.

"The bite, of course. Let me be brief, it's not at all what you expect it to be and I hope you'll take it a lot better than your ferocious counterpart." The other man sorted his cards on the table in a swift movement, before pushing one over to Jonathan with its backside up.

"My... counterpart?" Jonathan frowned and Talltree rolled his eyes.

"Of course you can't follow, you're a social disaster, Jonathan." 

"That's what my mother used to say," he sighed, not even able to feel offended, and finally turning the card in front of him. It was a figure riding a horse, in its hands a large bow and arrows. The hunter.

"Geoffrey?" Jonathan looked up slightly alarmed.

"I mean, y-yes, it's all about him. I did this horrible thing, I almost killed him and now I have these awful instincts and-..."

"Jonathan, slow down. McCullum is fine, more or less. He will ask you about his blood sooner or later, but that's another matter. You need to understand something very important."

"What is it? Can I do something to stop it? And can I stop the influence on Geoffrey?!" he continued to sputter until Talltree reached over the table and firmly grabbed his arm.

"Take a breath, my friend. It might help you." Talltree's eyes were dark and calm, yet the longer Jonathan looked, the more he could identify the fear lying beneath. His heart sank in his chest. Everyone who knew was scared of him. He always saw the same fear in Crane's eyes, his mother's, Charlotte's, and even Elisabeth failed to hide it sometimes. Everyone was scared. Everyone... except Geoffrey, a tiny voice whispered inside his mind.

"Alright. Tell me." Jonathan did as he was told and unclenched his hands, feeling Talltree's grasp leaving his arm.

"You wanted the simple truth; the bite is just a bite and nothing more."

"Wait, what?" Jonathan choked out as he was sure he'd misheard the other man. 

"No, you heard me right. There is absolutely no vampire magic involved at all, despite what the two of you might think." Talltree started to massage his temples with a sigh while Jonathan still stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"But... That doesn't make any sense. My instincts didn't alter themselves without reason!" he then protested, but Talltree shook his head.

"Of course not. Yes, you did taste McCullum's blood, in fact you find it to be the most delicious among all the humans you ever encountered. You were worried sick when he was on the verge of dying, it hurts when he insults you, yet you're happy when you're close to him. Seriously Jonathan, has nothing else occured to you?" He rewarded his dumbfoundness with a frown and Jonathan frowned back.

"I... I really don't understand," he admitted over the uncomfortable silence.

"Aren't you one emotional incompetent individual." Talltree clapped his hands once and Jonathan's eyes snapped to his almost alerted.

"You fell in love, Jonathan. With Geoffrey McCullum of all people, London's most efficient vampire hunter. I'm not here to criticize your choice of spouse, your kind seeks danger after all, but-... Anyways, that's all you need to know for now."

Jonathan opened and closed his mouth several times, before he simply blinked at Talltree, his brain unable to connect the words Geoffrey and love. 

"Jonathan...?" Talltree carefully cleared his throat, watching him warily. He had feelings for Geoffrey...? That was impossible. Whatever he felt wasn't natural.

"Uh, no... I don't think so..." Jonathan finally replied slowly, his gaze wandering back to the card of the hunter in front of him.

"I... I don't want... a relationship with Geoffrey?" As soon as he spoke those words it hit him like a hammer how wrong they were. He absolutely wanted a relationship with Geoffrey. Waking up in the hunter's arms, being able to touch him, talking to him for hours and hours... Or simply lying silently in each other's embrace. Jonathan felt his heart speeding up. Why...? Why Geoffrey? Why those deep blue eyes that used to pierce him to the bone with hatred?

"Stop daydreaming, Jonathan." Talltree snapped his fingers once, the noise startling him so much he bared his fangs reflexively.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan quickly apologized as Talltree raised his hands defensively.

"But... romantic feelings usually don't include... wanting to end the life of everything around Geoffrey? In an... extremely brutal fashion." He cleared his throat and looked the other way as Talltree's eyebrows shot up.

"I should've expected that," he muttered more to himself, rearranging his cards from what Jonathan could hear, watching a candle burn down to their left side.

"A-Also I'm always so hungry since I bit him, I can only think of his blood sometimes. But in contradiction to that, I couldn't harm him ever again! You can't be right, it was all initiated by the bite!" Jonathan started to argue and Talltree sighed again.

"You're a vampire, Jonathan. Of course having romantic feelings means something entirely else now."

"But-... Lady Ashbury would've known that, wouldn't she?" He still wasn't convinced. He'd only known once what a crush felt like, after that he'd never tried to advance again... And whatever he felt now, it was much more powerful, aggressive and... inhuman.

"Has your Lady Ashbury ever been in love with a human? Besides, we both know that your instincts are a lot more prominent that those of a common Ekon," Talltree resumed patiently, observing Jonathan's reactions with great interest for some reason.

"I'm not a common Ekon?" He just tilted his head and Talltree muffled an exasperated groan by running his hands over his face.

"You're a malnourished newborn who continuously shreds Skals and Ekons, who are, on a side note, many decades older than you, into pieces night in, night out. How common do you think that is?" Talltree folded his hands in an attempt to collect himself, sighing deeply through his nose.

"I... well, I assumed since I have combat experience... I just always reckoned I could beat them? Huh..." Jonathan thoughtfully ran a hand through his beard. He had anticipated that something was just not right about him, but he'd never really given it a thought. He always had to focus more on holding back than really being aware of what he was able to do.

"Bless your sincere soul, Jonathan, for you could overthrow the crown in a single night if you so desired," Talltree exclaimed and Jonathan started to laugh awkwardly. He stopped abruptly when he realized Talltree wasn't joking. Quickly clearing his throat, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"So... My instincts are stronger, like you said...?" Jonathan carefully looked up.

"Exactly. Your beast is very torn between wanting to drain McCullum or wanting to make sure he's unharmed, isn't that so?" Talltree leaned back and crossed his arms, his eyes back to analyzing Jonathan.

"Yes, that's very much the case." Though Jonathan was sure now. He could kill for Geoffrey's blood, but he'd kill a hell lot more if something or someone threatened his hunter. His hunter...?

"Surely enough, there's a risk resulting from your feelings. On one side, they keep you very much human. I'm certain you may have noticed the effects of McCullum's presence when he's near you. On the other side..." Talltree's gaze darkened and he looked at Jonathan with something akin to awe and abhorrence.

"Should he die the beast would break free and devour everything in its way."

Jonathan gulped, his shoulders slumping. Just the image of Geoffrey dying... Something revolted inside him, threatening to endlessly tear through flesh and blood should the day ever come.

"But..." Talltree showed him a small smile that somewhat lightened the mood.

"McCullum is a lot better at staying alive than dealing with his own share of repressed emotions."

"You're absolutely convinced I'm simply experiencing a crush?" Jonathan blinked at him and Talltree's smile widened.

"Simple is the wrong word here, but yes. Human feelings processed by the mind of a beast."

"I... to be honest I think I'm glad now it's not some vampire magic..." Jonathan admitted truthfully. Talltree chuckled at that.

"I'm sure McCullum would've preferred it the other way around."

"Yes..." He sighed, looking down at his hands.

"He hates me."

No, he didn't.

"A lot can change over the course of time." Talltree winked at him. A strange image to witness.

"But even if Geoffrey ever considers me an equal, he'd never... He's a man and so am I. This could never work." Jonathan shook his head. He shouldn't even let the hope build up in his heart. Yet he couldn't prevent it. The beast inside him was jumping in joy just thinking of Geoffrey with his cheeks reddening and accepting Jonathan's feelings for him.

"I think that is the least of your problems. You can figure out the rest by yourself." That response was very unhelpful, but Jonathan had learned a lot more than he'd hoped since he came here.

"Thank you for your time, Usher." He nodded at him sincerely and stood up.

"Always, Jonathan. I hope everything works out for the two of you. What a dangerous pair of nocturnal hunters..." Talltree chuckled and watched him gather his coat.

"I... I'm not sure I can talk to him about it."

"Indeed, that man has the shortest temper I've ever had the pleasure to deal with. Now I believe you need to take care of your patients."

"Yes. I owe you," Jonathan managed to smile lightly before he made his way to the exit.

"Don't mention it. Conversing with you is a great honor itself."

He wasn't sure what to reply to that since it seemed a little overboard, so Jonathan left, unsure how to feel about the information he'd received. He was falling in love with Geoffrey McCullum... He'd need a lot of time to truly believe that. Yet something felt right about the sentence. Some part of him wanted it to be true so much he could feel his stomach tingling.

"Hey boss, got your motivation speech for the new recruits ready." 

Geoffrey's forehead hit the surface of his desk quite hardly as he was startled awake by Harrison sticking his head into his office.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he cursed, squinting his eyes in pain and knocking over a pile of unresolved paper work with his elbow.

"You alright, Geoff?" Harrison approached him hesitantly, most likely expecting Geoffrey to snap at him, but he had no energy left for that.

"I'm fine..." he grunted, rubbing his eyes. Dusk was falling outside, the last rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains, and somewhat leaving a ticklish feeling on his skin. Geoffrey withdrew his hand into the shadows.

"No, you're not fine, you're a fucking mess!" Harrison suddenly exploded as he bent down to collect the documents before slamming them back on his desk. Geoffrey had never seen him angry before. He didn't even know Harrison was capable of being angry at a living being.

"Well, that's some scandalous news..." Geoffrey rolled his shoulders with a groan, the muscles in his neck were way too stiff.

"I want you to see a doctor, Geoff. A proper one at a hospital. And not just because of your physical state." Harrison stared him down hard, but Geoffrey had never been one to be easily intimidated. He'd probably win a staring contest with the devil himself once he dropped dead into hell. It surely came to no surprise to Harrison when Geoffrey broke into a fit of cold laughter.

"A hospital? Are you serious? I'd rather shoot myself!" he sneered.

"Geoff-..."

"Oh wait! You said a proper doctor? Is this some innuendo to bring Reid back into the game? Cuir piléar trí mo cheann cheana féin!" Geoffrey got up way too quick for his head to catch up, his vision spinning wildly for a few seconds before he barely caught himself.

"Geoffrey, stop! This can't go on! I already lost everything to the leeches, I can't lose you too." 

At that Geoffrey looked him in the eyes. He always hated to look into Jasper Harrison's eyes, because they reminded him of how much he'd fucked up in his life. They made him think of even sadder ones, pleading Geoffrey for the end. It made his stomach turn. Reid. He didn't want to kill him. Not anymore. His head started to hurt.

"I'm sorry, Jasper," he muttered, his shoulders slackening and Harrison reached out for him, but Geoffrey stepped backwards.

"You deserve better than to care about a miserable bastard like me." He hated it even more when the other looked at him compassionately, knowing he'd try to comfort him. Harrison drew a deep breath.

"I'll hold the speech, your disgusting steak is waiting for you in the kitchens and I'll send someone to clear the whiskey bottles from under your desk."

"There are no whiskey bottles," Geoffrey grunted slightly irritated, before making his way past the younger man.

"Sure, and I'm Van Helsing." Geoffrey playfully jabbed him in the side, coaxing a sad chuckle out of Harrison.

"Just promise me to see a doctor, Geoff."

Geoffrey stopped inside the door frame, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth.

"Alright."

He did feel better after having his breakfast, dinner or whatever one would call that ungodly kind of mealtime. Over the course of the last weeks he'd tried to avoid eating rare steaks, but he quickly found himself drained of all energy if he resorted to other food options. It had furthermore taken him way too long to realize the cut on his wrist already looked months old and he could swear he got a slight sunburn from a midday walk down the Thames.

A sunburn. In fucking London.

Geoffrey's problems just kept stacking on top of each other. He knew the city's most famous blood specialist could probably analyze his blood to the tiniest molecule, but he also knew said being to be very much interested in his blood for an entirely different reason.

"Nothing's gonna happen," Geoffrey muttered to himself as he put the used dishes away and hid a new bottle of whiskey inside his coat to sneak it into his office later.

"I'm neither turning into a fucking leech, nor developing feelings for one. Fuck you, Talltree." He hated to be not as sure about the second part as he was about the first. Trying to make his path subtly to the main stage of the theatre to listen to Harrison rounding up the motivation speech, he noticed the pulk building up in front of the man.

"You simply expect us to walk away from the leech doctor?! You can't tell me that thing is stronger than three of us together!" Toby Sheen shouted and Geoffrey quickly strode up to the front stage as Harrison shrunk under Toby's threatening glare. His brother was right behind him, joined by others who uttered their protest loudly.

"Oy, shut yer traps! Everyone!" Geoffrey hollered and his voice echoed through the entire hall.

"The leech doctor is off limits. And no, not even three of you could take the beast on. You're gonna be fucking dead and we're fucking lucky he currently has no intentions to slaughter us. So, in case none of you dipshits listened, avoid him at all costs. Running will be your best chance. You may shoot everything else into tiny pieces that has teeth sharper than your wits." His announcement was answered with respectful silence, frightened whispering and lowered heads. Geoffrey had never thought of himself to be a leader, someone to look up to, but he could keep that pack of lost souls together if he wanted to.

"Toby, Vince, grab your boys and finally clear the Skal nest near the sewer entrance by the docks. You've got no business at a rookie event." Geoffrey threw the trouble makers a warning glare, but Toby just grinned.

"No worries, boss. Just showing the newbies how things are running around here." It only made him sigh. The Sheens were a handful, but ultimately loyal to Priwen and him. Geoffrey realized he hadn't heard any news of Barlow in quite some time... Shite, he'd have to start an investigation soon.

"Just go, before I'm deciding to kick your asses." Geoffrey rolled his eyes and the senior recruits rushed past him without another word, drawing the gazes of the remaining rookies still gathered in one place. Judging by their faces Geoffrey knew some still struggled with their new reality, wondering if they'd just signed a pact with the devil, while others had fire burning in their eyes. He was glad to accept recruits with passion. But he already knew, those using pure hatred as their fuel always were the first to fall.

"Uhm, sir! I have a question!" A frail looking man with a mousy face raised his arm from in-between the group of newbies, gaining Geoffrey's attention.

"Yes?" 

The man insecurely stepped forward and cleared this throat, his eyes hushing nervously from Geoffrey to Harrison, but eventually sticking to Geoffrey.

"You told us a lot about the leech doctor, but how can we identify it? Does it have another name it uses to hide its true nature?" he shouted, raising approving murmur. Geoffrey snapped his fingers and the mousy guy flinched. Despite his appearance, Geoffrey recognized a war veteran in front of him, thrown into a world yet strange to him.

"A smart one, I like that."

"Thank you, sir!" The man nearly held back from a salute, assuring Geoffrey of his presumption.

"Sorry boss, I was assaulted by the Sheens before I could get to that part," Harrison whimpered and Geoffrey patted his shoulder before crossing his arms behind his back and starting to pace in front of the rookies.

"So, the leech doctor is in fact a doctor working at the Pembroke hospital. He might be hard to identify as a leech since he does give the perfect impression of a human being." It, goddamnit, not him!

"The name it uses is Jonathan Reid. It is about my height, often wears a long black coat and-..." Has a very attractive face, pale eyes full of grief and sorrow, large gentle hands and a voice that made his heart skip sometimes. Fuck. Geoffrey's words breaking off went unnoticed as the rookie's eyes suddenly widened.

"Are you talking about Jonny?!" he exclaimed in shock, causing Geoffrey and Harrison to frown deeply, throwing each other an alarmed gaze.

"Jonny?" Geoffrey repeated, taking a very close look at the man in front of him. He wasn't familiar at all, but what were the chances that he actually was acquainted with Reid?

"Yes, Jonathan Reid! H- He's my best friend, we fought in the war together! You must be wrong about him!" The panic in the recruit's eyes was real.

"What's your name, rookie?" Geoffrey inquired and the man swallowed heavily.

"Crossley, sir!"

"Hold on, you were fucking friends with a leech this whole time without noticing?!" Laughter erupted among the group as the man behind Crossley mocked him, quickly silenced by Geoffrey's scowl.

"I... I didn't know, I swear I didn't know! This has to be a mistake, I've known Jonny my whole life! He's not-..."

"I can very much assure you he is," Geoffrey interrupted the horrified stuttering. He didn't want to feel bad for Crossley, but the man was nearly tearing up.

"No! No, he's not! You're not vampire hunters, you're maniacs!" he suddenly yelled, his face red with anger, yet his voice hitching in fear.

"The truth is always hard to accept, Crossley. But at some point your precious Jonny changed without you noticing," Geoffrey responded calmly, it wouldn't do any good to shout back.

"No! You're wrong and I'll prove it to you!" Crossley seethed before turning on his heels and marching out the door.

"Leech dinner!" someone shouted after him spitefully and Geoffrey sighed again. It looked like he had to establish his authority the next few nights to get a grip on the newbies. He desperately needed a drink.

"You know your tab keeps growing faster than I can restock, McCullum." Tom Watts raised one brow as Geoffrey wordlessly pushed his empty mug over to him once again.

"Shut up and let me drink," he simply grumbled and Tom shrugged with a sigh. Geoffrey was just about to close his eyes and drown in his misery while giving his best to not think about running a hand through silky black hair, when a loud, dull thump resounded at the back of the building. Tom squinted his eyes warily. The Turquoise Turtle was far from crowded this night, so every noise could be heard from the outside. 

"That definitely came from the backyard," Sabrina paused her motion of cleaning a table, when a yell followed the initial sound. 

"I'll check it out," Geoffrey got up with a grunt before Tom could decide to see for himself who was causing trouble behind the pub. Beating up some asshole probably would do Geoffrey some good.

"Be careful, McCullum," Tom warned him, but Geoffrey paid his words no mind as he made his way to the door that led to the backside.

"You're fucking drunk, nothing happened!" Someone shouted and as Geoffrey rounded the corner he saw a blond man with his back to the wall, his hands raised defensively, his eyes locked on the knife pointed at his chest.

"I know what I saw, faggot! And once your little lover comes back I'll send you both to hell!" The aggressor spat out viciously and Geoffrey sped up when he swung his blade at the man. The strike aimed at his stomach cut the blond man's thigh instead as Geoffrey tackled the asshole to the ground.

"You fucking stupid? I got a knife!" he yelled almost hysterically as he flailed beneath Geoffrey.

"And I got a fist," he grunted somewhat smugly and placed his knuckles in the other man's face with a satisfying crunch. He quickly dodged another poor jab with the knife and watched him scramble to his feet.

"F-Fuck you! All of you faggots! You will rot in hell! The Wet Boot Boys will hear about this!" he shouted with his voice cracking as he failed to stop the blood flooding out of his nose.

"Buzz off, maggot." Geoffrey made a threatening step towards him and the asshole finally staggered off into the distance. He then turned to the injured man behind him, who clutched his leg with a pained groan, sliding down the wall.

"You alright?" Geoffrey asked, although the other was clearly not in fact alright.

"Been through worse..." he hissed through gritted teeth, starting to messily bandage the cut with one sleeve of his shirt.

"W-What he said isn't true, you know? He was drunk and imagined things! I'm not-..."

"Newt?!" 

Geoffrey turned his head as another man stumbled horrified into the backyard and hastily approached.

"My God, what happened to you?!" He went to his knees and clutched the man's face despite the anxious gaze the blond man threw at Geoffrey. He then understood. And he felt something he couldn't quite describe as he watched the worry on the second man's face, the softness in his eyes and the reassuring touches. It was the first time Geoffrey saw two men in a relationship. It somewhat lightened his heart, yet at the same time... He was jealous. He envied them for what they had. For what he could never have. Geoffrey wanted to very much leave, but... all of a sudden he didn't feel as lonely anymore.

"You're not with the Wet Boot Boys, are you?? Please, you mustn't tell anyone!" the blond man pleaded as he struggled to stand up.

"I won't." He wanted to add something. The reason why he wasn't bothered.

"Let's get you inside, looks like you need a drink," Geoffrey grunted instead and offered him to put his weight on his shoulder, while the other man stabilized him with an arm around his waist.

"Thank you..." he muttered astonished, seemingly not having expected the gesture from Geoffrey.

"You won't report us to the police?" the other man questioned unbelieving, and Geoffrey shook his head.

"People got other things to worry about."

Just as they made their way through the backdoor into the pub, Geoffrey's eyes met with light blue ones and he stopped dead in his tracks, almost making the other two fall over. But there he was, standing at the bar and having turned his head towards them. The beast must've smelt the blood..., Geoffrey's vicious side retorted. And came here to help. He was fucking torn.

"Mr Blight! What happened to you?" Reid immediately rushed towards them while Tom readied a chair for the injured man to sit on.

"Fucker attacked me with a knife. It's just superficial, nothing too bad," he groaned as he was lowered into a sitting position. 

"That must be the adrenaline, it's quite deep actually, I'll have to suture it," Reid grimaced as he removed the bloodied piece of clothing around the injury to have a closer look. Geoffrey slowly reached for a stake inside his coat.

"Must be your lucky day. We usually don't have a doctor in the pub at night," Sabrina chimed in, clicking her tongue at the bloodied tracks on the floor.

"Geoffrey, I need my equipment. On the counter," Reid suddenly instructed and turned to look at him when Geoffrey didn't move. His hand was still clutching the stake, but Reid's eyes... He didn't look hungry. Yet he should've gone crazy with that amount of blood around him. Why couldn't he simply be like any other leech? Then Geoffrey could kill him on the spot and remove all of his problems at once. But Reid just... he looked like a person. Like a real doctor worried about his patient.

"There you go, doc." Tom handed him his bag with a frown directed at Geoffrey and the leech immediately got to work. He could leave now. Evade another confrontation. He didn't want to, though. And he told himself that Reid was still a danger with the open wound so close to him. It was a sorry excuse, but it was his best excuse to stay and watch Reid taking care expertly of the cut. Like he had done when he'd found Geoffrey almost bled out all those weeks ago. When he'd cared for him, cooked for him, gotten him clean blankets and making sure he lived. Why had he done that...? Why would he be happy about Geoffrey not hating him?? What if he was... His heart skipped a beat. What if he was actually fond of Geoffrey? Him of all people, even though Geoffrey had hurt him so many times...

"I do suggest you take it slow the next week, don't exhaust yourself and don't strain your leg." Geoffrey only snapped back to reality when Reid got up with an exhausted sigh and gathered his equipment.

"Thanks a lot, Dr Reid. I owe you," Blight groaned and closed his eyes.

"Would you perhaps care for a drink?" his partner offered and Reid laughed. Such a nice sound... How could a creature possessed by evil sound like that...?

"Thank you, but I'm still on duty." He smiled. God, he was handsome when he smiled. Geoffrey wasn't exactly aware of the fact that he pretty much ogled the good doctor. Why on earth did he have to be a leech? And why did it suddenly bother him so little that he was one?? His head was utterly fucked. Fuck the leech with his irresistible smile and his soft looking hair and everything Geoffrey ever dreamt of when thinking of a happy future.

"Dr Reid, a word?" Tom asked him and Geoffrey just watched Reid brushing past him to the counter with the slightest nod.

"There you go, boys. It's double the price because of the floor." Sabrina carried a tray with three mugs on top to the table closest to them before returning to the back to retrieve a bucket and a mop. From the corner of his eye Geoffrey noticed Reid leaving through the door, though their gazes met for a split second.

"How are you feeling?" the man called Oswald Thatcher, as far as Geoffrey had listened, muttered quietly, yet he didn't dare to reach out to Blight as he'd done before.

"I'll be fine," Blight sighed, gripping his drink and wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"God, I'm so glad Dr Reid was here. Is he a friend of yours?" Thatcher's eyes wandered to Geoffrey.

"No!" he replied way too quick, causing Thatcher to flinch slightly.

"I... I mean, we run into each other from time to time," he quickly cleared his throat. Usually he didn't bother being friendly.

"McCullum, by the way." He offered his hand and averted his eyes when they both shook it somewhat hesitantly. When was the last time Geoffrey had introduced himself to someone...? Jeez, he could count the number of friends he had with one hand, and all of them were working under him for Priwen...

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. If it weren't for you, I'm not sure I'd be alive," Blight uttered and Thatcher tried to take his hand, but the former pulled it away, leaving him with a hurt look.

"It's alright, you know," Geoffrey finally broke the awkward silence that followed, again avoiding persistently to make eye contact.

"I..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. Goddamnit, Talltree knew already, so what would it matter.

"I guess I'm... playing the game on the same side as you guys..." he muttered almost unintelligibly, but the other two seemed to have understood by the way their eyes widened.

"That was... unexpected...?" Blight blinked at him and Geoffrey started to feel very uncomfortable, yet his mug was already empty.

"Well, you didn't freak out earlier, so I kind of guessed it," Thatcher smiled sheepishly, and Geoffrey's shoulders tensed.

"I... But do I give the impression that I'm-... that I like-... ugh..." He got lost in his words and ran a hand through his face.

"Nah, don't worry. As long as you're careful with your partner, no one will suspect a thing," Blight assured him and Geoffrey sighed. He never thought he'd have a conversation like that. But at the same time... It felt good to finally talk.

"How... How do you guys manage?" he asked quietly, his eyes nervously observing the few customers who could possibly eavesdrop on them.

"It's not that hard, really. There are currently worse things going on in the streets," Thatcher responded.

"But... What about friends and family? No one will accept you! You'll have to hide forever!" Geoffrey replied, yet the other two remained calm.

"Then so be it. But for me it's worth it," Blight simply shrugged, downing his drink and waving for Sabrina to get them a refill.

"What about you, McCullum?" Thatcher looked at him sincerely and Geoffrey waited awkwardly until Sabrina had gotten them new drinks. Then he searched for the right words.

"I'm... alone. And I always will be," he murmured bitterly.

"Thought the same once, but you'll find someone eventually. Even if it's because of the fucking war." The look Blight threw Thatcher was full of pain, yet in a way Geoffrey knew it had healed a long time ago.

"No, I simply can't be with him. It's not-..." He realized his mistake too late as he noticed Blight and Thatcher both gawking at him. Why on earth would he say that?! God, he was stupid.

"So there actually is someone!" Blight almost slammed his hand down on the table, while Thatcher narrowed his eyes to watch Geoffrey carefully.

"No, no one! Forget what I said!"

"Well, if he's your age and not married, you might have a chance!" Thatcher encouraged him, but Geoffrey backed away, angrily leering into his once again empty drink.

"No, it's not that simple. He could never-... It's not possible. If anyone ever finds out I'm very much dead."

"Oh, grow a spine, McCullum. There's no harm in telling him how you feel. And if he turns out to be an asshole, I'm pretty sure you can handle him like you did the guy outside." Blight rolled his eyes and Geoffrey threw him an offended glare.

"I can't tell him and I never will! I don't even want-..." Geoffrey quickly shut up as he noticed Tom approaching them.

"Hey there, lads. McCullum, Dr Reid wanted me to tell you he had something to discuss with you once he returns from my errand," he informed him as he collected their empty drinks. The mention of Reid's name in that situation did no good to Geoffrey's face suddenly feeling very hot.

"I'm not waiting for him just because he wants me to..." he grunted like an indignant child and Tom laughed.

"That's exactly what he thought you'd say, so I should let you know he's retrieving my booze from the quarantine area. I do hope you stay around for a tasting." He patted Geoffrey's shoulder a couple of times before leaving.

"The doc?! It's him??" Thatcher whispered with big eyes and Geoffrey was convinced he'd get a heart attack any second.

"What, no?! Why would you assume that?!" he barely covered the screech in his voice with a snarl and the man jumped back in his chair.

"Your face tells a different story," Blight grinned maliciously.

"Besides, you did stare very hard at him earlier..."

"Now that I think about it, the doc is quite handsome, isn't he?" Thatcher chuckled amused and Geoffrey could do nothing but groan.

"He promised to not tell anyone about us as well, and he didn't seem to have any issues at least."

"He didn't?" Geoffrey hated himself for the hope blooming in his chest. It was wrong. Even if Reid was... No. He wasn't even a man. He was a leech. A very weird leech that could purr like a goddamn kitten.

"Nope, with that one I'm pretty sure he never had a woman in his life," Blight confirmed.

"And they're all over him at the hospital! If you knew the amount of female patients requesting Dr Reid only! Yet he's always alone!" Thatcher added fuel to the fire.

"He could be shy, but it's more likely he swings the other way. You have to tell him!" Blight expressed, his pain seemingly forgotten. Geoffrey shook his head. If only Reid wasn't a leech... But he could hardly explain that, could he.

"Oh, I know! Next time we're at the Pembroke, we simply coax it out of him when he comes by. And then we can tell you for sure!" Thatcher suggested.

"Great idea, I kind of want to see him getting flustered. Jeez, Oswald, you're glad I met you before him," Blight joked and Thatcher rolled his eyes, before looking at Geoffrey expectantly.

"I need another drink." He simply got up and returned to the counter, just the same moment the door opened and Reid returned with three crates of gin of whiskey stacked in his arms. Geoffrey knew Tom's eyes were as big as his when the doctor set them on the counter with a fake sigh of exhaustion.

"So... uh... You just carried these all the way here?" Tom frowned at him and the leech nodded proudly, but froze as he noticed Geoffrey subtly shaking his head in the background.

"Ah, I mean, I found a sort of improvised cart to get them here," he laughed nervously, before Geoffrey could make up his mind to simply hit him for his stupidity. He'd get himself in trouble sooner or later if he forgot to pretend to have human strength. Although it was somewhat adorable. Fuck no, it was not.

"Still, you must hide some muscle beneath that coat," Tom chuckled as he hardly managed to lift two crates at once back into the storage room.

"You fucking daft, leech?" Geoffrey hissed at him and Reid turned to him with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I seriously didn't think of the weight." He rubbed the back of his head, his smile lingering as he continued to look at Geoffrey. Adorable. Fucking adorable.

"Yeah, well, at least the crates are going to be a lot lighter soon," Geoffrey huffed as Tom returned to pick up the last one.

"Do take it easy, there's a lot of alcohol already traversing your veins," Reid sighed, causing Geoffrey to scowl at him.

"Stop fucking sniffing my blood, leech."

"Can't really help it," Reid just grinned and Geoffrey's heart fucking melted. He leant against the counter, turning the other way.

"Tom said you have something to tell me, so get over it quickly," he grumbled, feeling the weight of another body pushing on the the counter next to him. Geoffrey didn't dare to turn towards him. Reid was so close... And Geoffrey was in an inconvenient position to grab a stake.

"Uhh, yes, I originally wanted to ask you if I could do some research on your blood, but since you're already intoxicated, my request has invalidated itself," Reid admitted and Geoffrey scoffed.

"Bold of you to assume I'd give you my blood, beast." The word was meant to be hurtful, to drive him away, but it didn't sound as vile as Geoffrey had intended.

"I know, a sensitive topic, unfortunately." Reid didn't elaborate further as Tom returned with two full glasses of gin.

"On the house, thanks for your service, doc. I'm gonna get some to the boys in the corner," Tom shoved them over with a grin, before walking off towards Thatcher and Blight whose eyes were positively drilling into Geoffrey's back. He'd downed his drink the next second without setting it down.

"Are you... alright?" Reid frowned worriedly, yet quickly exchanging their glasses to make it look like he'd finished his.

"Fat chance. Look at me talking to a fucking leech, having a conversation in a pub as if we're fucking friends or something," Geoffrey seethed, feeling the alcohol finally starting to cloud his senses. Good, hopefully he'd forget this entire evening.

"We could be friends, you know?" Again that stupid soft look in his eyes. So gentle and caring... Geoffrey could cry. Instead of answering he finished the second gin. His throat was burning, and he prayed the warmth spreading inside him was caused by the alcohol instead of the attractive man to his side. He grabbed the half empty bottle on the counter without another word.

"Geoffrey, I don't think that's wise," Reid frowned as Geoffrey emptied it mindlessly, barely catching himself on the counter. In fact he thought drinking himself into oblivion to be very wise at the moment.

"You don't tell me what to do, leech. Fuck you and your stupid perfect beard!" he slurred, before losing his footing without reason and crashing to the ground.

"Well, it was about time," he heard Tom sigh as he returned to them. Geoffrey didn't even make an effort to get up. He'd simply lay still until everyone was gone. 

"How much for a room? I'll make sure he gets some rest." The jingle of keys could be heard before Geoffrey was suddenly lifted up by a pair of arms that often embraced him in his dreams.

"Let me go, leech! I swear if you don't let go, I'll cut off your arms!" he cussed, without any memory how he got up the stairs, just now noticing the soft mattress beneath him.

"Geoffrey... You're holding onto me," Reid cleared his throat awkwardly, and yes, Geoffrey had indeed wrapped both his arms around the other man, pressing his face against his chest.

"Liar..." he muttered weakly, his eyes falling close. Reid laughed quietly as Geoffrey was lowered onto the bed. He saw white curtains in front of the tiny window at the other end of the room. He was already dreaming, wasn't he? Reid's hand was still on his shoulder. Geoffrey grabbed it before he could retreat.

"Geoffrey...?" That voice, speaking his name so tenderly... Geoffrey closed his eyes. He wanted to be held by those cold hands. It would feel right.

"Rest, hunter." 

Geoffrey whimpered when Reid freed his hand and covered him with the blanket. He left. But his soft words stayed with him until he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Jonathan swore he could feel his own heart pounding in his chest as he left the room to let Geoffrey sleep. The way he'd half-consciously grabbed his hand... As if he'd wanted him to stay. The beast inside him was doing somersaults. He waited behind the door for a while, listening to Geoffrey's breathing calming down, and his heartbeat slowing.

He was drunk. That was something Jonathan shouldn't overlook. If Geoffrey were sober he'd never have Jonathan take him up to a room and place him on a bed. He'd never have taken his hand, never touched him were he conscious. Yet Jonathan's own heart wouldn't calm. Talltree was absolutely right. He had an enormous crush on the hunter. It didn't come out of nowhere, though, he'd been mistaking his attraction to Geoffrey for his bloodlust.

God, the hunter was attractive... Jonathan let out a wistful sigh, wondering when or if those warm big hands would ever touch him again. Although the hunter still displayed his disgruntled attitude and mild hostility around him, Jonathan couldn't get the impression of a fluffed up bird out of his head, that pretended to be bigger and angrier than it actually was. It was almost... cute. That was a word he knew Geoffrey would kill him for if he ever said it out loud. Still, Jonathan couldn't help it when he imagined himself now lying next to Geoffrey in that bed, gently cupping one of his slightly reddened cheeks, running his thumb over his stubble and...

The wooden banister he'd grasped suddenly cracked beneath his hand, and Jonathan realized he was positively starving. Oh right. The downside of being a vampire with romantic feelings. Were he still human he'd probably have rushed home, trying and most likely failing to hide his blush from Mary, before squealing in a corner of his room. The beast however desired blood and violence. And then squealing in a corner.

"Ugh..." Jonathan groaned as he desperately tried to keep his fangs shortened, stopping to breathe to not let Geoffrey's alluring smell completely screw his senses. A decent meal would be the best solution, as far as one could describe Skals and rats as decent.

"Hey, doc!" Oswald Thatcher waved him over as Jonathan made his way downstairs again. He was glad to find out he still prioritized his duties as a doctor over his current hunger, as he approached them.

"Good evening again. How are you feeling by now, Mr Blight?" Jonathan inquired, standing at their table, not exactly willing to sit down.

"The alcohol is certainly doing wonders. On top of your excellent work, that is," the man laughed.

"You still working, doc?"

"Unfortunately, yes, I'm afraid I won't have the time to enjoy a drink with you," Jonathan smiled apologetically, noticing how Thatcher and Blight exchanged a glance.

"Since we have you here, anyways... We've been wondering." Thatcher grasped his drink while Blight had an amused smile on his face.

"Yes?" Jonathan raised one eyebrow, unsure about where this was going.

"Forgive us prying, but you know about our... situation. So... well-..." he started stuttering as it seemingly became uncomfortable for him to lead the topic on.

"We've been wondering if you like men as well," Blight finished for him and Jonathan's jaw almost dropped. Luckily it did not, otherwise he'd have displayed his fangs.

"Ah, uhm-... I-... I really have to go now!" he pressed out, yet his voice was hitching somewhat awkwardly and it came out a little higher than intended. Without waiting for a reaction he rushed past Tom with a nod and exited the Turquoise Turtle. My God. Where did that question even come from?! For the first time he was glad he wasn't human anymore, otherwise his head would've exploded with redness. Blood and violence!, the beast chirped inside him and for once Jonathan agreed. The amount of built up energy beneath his skin was frightening, and he feared to lash out at the next best person if he couldn't get rid of it.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he noticed his claws showing, quickly hiding his hands inside his sleeves. He had to leave the streets as quickly as possible. Perhaps the sewers would offer him what he needed. Jonathan fastened his steps until he was able to vanish into a dark alleyway, the shadows carrying him through the night too fast for the human eye to grasp. He ignored the shouts of a startled Priwen Patrol as he blinked past them through the sewer entrance. Only when he was deep inside did he slow down and focus on his senses.

The patrol was still at the entrance, debating whether to follow him and do their job of cleaning a Skal nest, but ultimately deciding against it. That was a relief at least. And the news about the Skal nest was indeed very convenient for him. His empty stomach agreed.

Jonathan absentmindedly ran his tongue over his teeth as he followed fresh blood stains on the floor. Far away he could hear Skals screeching and scuffling through the narrow dark tunnels. By now it was hard for Jonathan to exit his blood vision. All he could see were his blurred surroundings as he sped towards the red glowing bodies in the distance. Rotten hearts pumping foul blood into dead veins, a muddy smell filling the air the closer he got. The hunger made it seem like a feast though. Jonathan would never allow himself to think of human blood in moments like these. What a delight it had to be instead a Skal's... So vibrant and sweet on his tongue... Like Geoffrey's blood had been.

The tunnel suddenly widened in front of him, the ground vanishing behind a round opening through a thick wall. Below spread a giant cistern with massive bricked columns reaching up to the high ceiling. And in-between, mindlessly perusing the waterlogged ground, were dozens of Skals. Jonathan leapt down from the ledge he stood on, into the hell beneath him. 

Multiple gleaming pairs of eyes snapped towards him as he plunged his teeth into the neck of the closest Skal. A chain reaction of animalistic screaming erupted around him and not a second later there were fangs and claws all over him, tearing through his coat and the skin of his back. Jonathan surprised himself when, upon his pained snarl, a shock wave of shadow sent every Skal around him to the ground.

He felt how his human instincts carefully crawled to the back of his mind, making way for the beast that happily obliged. He had no control over his movements anymore as he could only watch like a passive spectator how he ripped out throats with his teeth, tore bodies apart in a swirl of blood and shadow, his claws slicing through bone like soft butter. In a macabre and gruesome way it felt like dancing as he turned to avoid hands around his neck, reformed the shadows to impale a Skal and froze their blood in their veins before their bodies burst and he stood beneath a rain of red.

The water on the floor had turned dark and thick, mingled with defiled bodies and severed limbs. Three Skals were remaining and after Jonathan had drained the last one, his beast receded, satisfied with the carnage. He held his head as he came to his senses. Standing in a sea of corpses, covered in blood, he watched his own reflection in the water. What looked back was something that frightened him to the marrow.

"Why keep pretending? You know what you are..."

Jonathan turned away quickly, but the bloodied water spread in every direction, he stood in the center of dead flesh forming a morbid pattern around him.

"The very streets of London could look like this if you wanted to... Or if you're not careful enough..." A cruel chuckle resounded in his head. Jonathan quickly went to his knees, splashing water into his face in panic. When he looked again it was just him. Terror visible in his eyes, soiled water dripping from his hair and beard.

"No..." He covered his eyes. If Geoffrey saw him like this... It made him shudder. Just as he finally gathered the strength to stand up, a sharp and shrill sound sent him to the ground again. Jonathan screamed as he pressed his palms to his ears, but it would not stop, like a needle penetrating his ear canals right into his brain. The resulting ringing in his head drowned out his own voice as he barely perceived the light of a torch closing up on him. A hand roughly grabbed him by the chin and Jonathan jerked back, but the other person did not budge. His eyes were wide, but all he could see was the flare of the torch, his vision swirling and turning around him, the ringing in his ears still present, although the original noise had ceased.

"Oh, a pretty one," a low female voice spoke and Jonathan shut his eyes tightly as the torch was held up right in front of his face.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're Dr Reid, aren't you? You've been very efficient here, I'll let you have that."

Jonathan was unable to form a proper thought, he could only listen to the voice barely tuning out the noise in his head. He tried to open his eyes once more, but the brightness of the flame sent a sharp pain through his brain. The hand on his chin turned his face as if to inspect him.

"I see why Geoffrey likes you... He's got a knack for pretty things." Geoffrey? This woman knew him? Who was she?

"Anyways, sorry for the assault. You just continue being a good little leech and it won't happen again. I'll be looking forward to cooperation in the future!" She let go of his face and Jonathan collapsed on the floor. The light slowly disappeared and the darkness tried its best to make him recover.

Jonathan didn't quite remember how he got back to the Pembroke. Only when he sat at his desk, breathing heavily and his ears having finally healed, was he able to reflect on the situation. Neither could he figure out who he encountered in the sewers, nor their motivations and what their relationship to Geoffrey was. And that shrill noise piercing the air... He'd never heard it before, and he couldn't comprehend how it could've dealt such damage. He still had a headache and was unable to perceive conversations from the hospital below him. 

He jumped startled when there was a knock on his door. Jonathan cursed as he noticed he was still wearing his tattered and bloodstained coat, realizing his shirt beneath it didn't look any better.

"Uhm, what is it?" he called out in front of the closed door.

"Your mail, Dr Reid," answered the voice of a mildly irritated nurse Hawkins.

"Just leave it in front of the door, thank you!" Jonathan called back.

"Are you alright, Dr?"

"I'm not... I'm not feeling well, but don't worry." He didn't even have to fake the raspiness of his voice.

"Take a rest then, Dr Reid. I'll let Dr Ackroyd know."

"Thank you, nurse." Jonathan sighed and waited a little to make sure she left, her steps escaping his hearing way too soon. He then carefully opened the door, snatching a letter placed in front of it on the ground. Wandering back to his desk, he opened it. It seemed to be an invite from Clarence asking him to join him and Venus the next evening for a nice catch-up. It made him smile a little. Yes, that was exactly what he needed to distract himself. To make him feel human. Spend a night with his friends to talk and laugh about old times, and give his mind a break from Geoffrey.

"My God, Geoffrey, where have you been?!" 

It was late afternoon when Geoffrey showed up at the theatre with a hangover that luckily wasn't as heavy due to his deep drunken slumber. He was unable to recall any dreams though, sadly so, as he was certain one of them had featured a specific doctor with remarkably less clothes on than was considered decent.

"Calm down, I'm back, ain't I..." he grumbled tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to his office.

"You got wasted, didn't you!" Harrison accused him and Geoffrey shrugged.

"Saw a doctor, just like you asked."

"That's very hard to believe. And Geoff, before you open the door you should know-..." Geoffrey didn't wait for Harrison to finish as he entered his office and froze in the doorframe.

"Oh, great," he grunted as his eyes fell onto his second in command, Astrid Muller, sitting in his chair with her boots on his desk.

"Hey, that's all I get as a greeting? I've been gone for almost a year! Surely you've missed me, Geoffrey!" She got up with a smile and approached them. She was taller than Harrison and just a few inches shorter than Geoffrey.

"Glad you're back," he then sighed as she went for a hug.

"I hope life's not been too easy without me," Astrid grinned and Harrison chuckled.

"Well, I already told you about our most recent troublemaker."

"The doctor? Oh yes, I met him last night. Poor little thing." Geoffrey suddenly felt very cold. Was Reid alright? No, why would he care about Reid's well-being??

"You met him? Where?" he asked warily and Astrid tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear.

"The sewers. You almost sent the Sheens to their death, by the way, that Skal nest was way too big for a patrol of five people. Luckily, your doctor got in first and cleared it out." She watched him intently as if she waited for a specific reaction from him.

"I'm pretty convinced he's not completely alright, though, mentally speaking. He kept talking to himself that he didn't want to be a monster and if you saw him like that, you'd cut his head off." Geoffrey blinked a few times, not sure how to respond, so Astrid continued.

"What shocked me more though from up close; he's very nice to look at. Believe me, I thought all Englishmen were ugly, but that one..." she sighed dreamily.

"Don't talk about a leech like that," Geoffrey scolded her, taking the hit himself as his mind heavily protested and once again tried to recall that very hot dream of Reid splayed out on a bed under the moonlight.

"How did you get so close to him anyways?" Harrison asked puzzled and Astrid presented her sneaky grin.

"Well, I haven't been gone this long with nothing to show for." She reached around her neck and removed a string over her head, which held a cylindrical metallic object.

"Is that a dog whistle?" Geoffrey frowned as Astrid let it circulate around her index finger.

"Sort of. Modified it a little to match a frequency leeches can absolutely not handle. I had a few test subjects up in Scotland to make sure I could work with the feedback. Got one for you as well, Geoffrey!" She produced another one from her pocket and tossed it over to him. Geoffrey caught it, giving it a suspicious once-over.

"I don't really need that to fight leeches," he grumbled and Astrid placing her arm on his shoulder.

"I'm not forcing you to use it. Still, I was hoping to acquire more soon, so we can pass one to each patrol. Could save a lot of lives."

"How do they work, exactly?" Harrison wondered and Geoffrey handed the whistle to him so he could have a closer look.

"Imagine a super high tone that absolutely drives you nuts and physically hurts you. In case of the good doctor, it even made his ears bleed."

"You used it on Reid?!" Geoffrey burst out, throwing her arm off his shoulder, causing her and Harrison to watch him slightly confused. Shit, he shouldn't be upset about Reid getting hurt! What was he doing??

"Now don't worry, Geoffrey, your adorable plaything will regenerate and is most likely fine again this night," Astrid assured him and Harrison raised one brow. As if he suspected something was off...

"Also let me tell you, I'm a big fan of the idea of getting him to work alongside us. Great thinking there, Jasper. We can keep him well in check with the whistles, and we'll get him a muzzle for good measure." If she noticed the horrified look on Geoffrey's face, she didn't mention it.

"And perhaps an orichalcum collar with a leash! Priwen's bloodhound, isn't that wonderful!" She clapped her hands at her own idea and smiled brightly at Geoffrey.

"I'm not working with a leech and that's final," he grunted.

"Aww, come on, how can we change your mind?" Astrid pushed him playfully, but Geoffrey continued to stare at the floor. What she suggested was simply humiliating. He didn't want to see the pain again in those eyes...

"We have those stupid whistles now, don't we? We don't need him."

"Well, what about the Barlow issue, then? Jasper told me one of your new recruits went missing last night and another got both his arms broken. If things are getting downright dirty, would you really risk your men's lives in an open shoot-out? Or rather send our pet leech to conveniently take care of the matter?" Astrid looked him hard in the eye and Geoffrey averted his gaze to Harrison. 

"She has a point," the latter admitted quietly.

"Alright, alright. If Barlow gets any wrong ideas, I'll ask Reid for assistance. But I'm not having any of that bloodhound bullshit," he finally gave in.

"Awesome!" Astrid's arm was back around his shoulder again and the touch started to feel... intruding of sorts.

"Also, Geoffrey, you wouldn't by chance know if our leech boy is inclined to share a bed?" At that Harrison and Geoffrey both choked heavily.

"Jesus Christ, Astrid, he's a leech!" Harrison exclaimed wide eyed. 

"So what? He's really cute. And he looks pretty human too, unlike some specimens I've ended. Also, sex with a vampire is supposed to be super intense, if the old records are to be believed. It's kind of on my bucket list." She stuck her tongue out cheekily and Harrison just sighed while Geoffrey grimaced. For a moment he seriously wondered if Reid would agree to a proposition like that. The leech was fucking lonely after all as far as he knew. But it somewhat made Geoffrey... jealous to think of it. 

"Nah, the leech is a fucking prude toff, good luck with that," he simply responded and proceeded to look the other way.

"What a bummer. I'll try, though."

"Yeah well, don't traumatize him. I've got work to do, so if you two might piss off nicely?" Geoffrey finally sighed and made his way to the desk.

"See you later, boss!" Harrison saluted him and walked off. Astrid lingered though and closed the door, causing Geoffrey to look up as he sat down.

"I missed you, Geoffrey," she muttered as she approached him, the softness in her voice unfitting to her character. Yet Geoffrey knew that tone as he sighed deeply.

"Missed you too. The world is not as lively without you." She laughed at that and it remembered Geoffrey of their childhood. The three of them would always be together with Carl watching over them.

"Want to give this another try? I'm lonely and so are you." She reached out for his hand and Geoffrey let her take it.

"Astrid..." he murmured tiredly.

"You know we don't work. And I'm not feeling well lately," Geoffrey admitted honestly and Astrid squeezed his hand.

"Tell me if there's anything I can do for you. And tell me if you change your mind." She let go and walked towards the door. Geoffrey knew she was disappointed, but didn't show it. Astrid had first laid eyes on him way back when they were teenagers. But Geoffrey had never been able to explain why he wasn't attracted to her. He'd even tried it once, hoping his preferences would perhaps... change. It had only assured him, though.

"I will, thank you."

The next night Jonathan knocked on the Crossleys' front door, Venus opened it with a wide smile as soon as she recognized him.

"Jonathan! I'm so glad you could make it. Please, come in!" she invited him inside, luckily so, otherwise Jonathan would've been stuck in front of the door like a moron.

"Thank you, Venus. I hope you're doing well?" he asked her as he hung up his coat.

"Alas, London's situation is far from great at the moment, but I'm managing." She continued to smile at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. They had briefly talked a few weeks back and apparently Clarence's obsession with vampires put a massive strain on their relationship.

"And how are you? I still have to think a lot about Mary..." Her voice softened as she reached out to touch his arm compassionately.

"Me too," Jonathan muttered quietly, looking up when Clarence came around the corner.

"Jonny! You got my message!" He grinned brightly, yet something seemed to be off. Jonathan couldn't quite pinpoint it as the man seemed fine, yet his heart was beating way too fast. Was he on the verge of falling ill, perhaps?

"I was happy to receive it. Finally I can take my mind off work," he sighed nonetheless as he was led to the living room table by Venus.

"You're working too hard, Jonathan. What you do is simply too much for one single person!" 

"Venus, dear, can you bring the food from the kitchen?" Clarence asked as he sat down across from Jonathan.

"Oh, am I interrupting your dinner? I'm terribly sorry," Jonathan apologized with a frown. It was a little late for dinner, but he knew Clarence and Venus both liked to stay up long.

"No, Jonny, don't worry! We planned you in as well, it's a surprise!" Clarence's smile looked like someone had plastered it to his face. And now Jonathan realized what was wrong. When he talked, he didn't look him in the eyes, but on his mouth instead. A slight jolt went through him. Were his fangs slightly extended and Clarence had caught a glimpse of them? He felt for them with his tongue in panic, but they were short as far as he could tell.

"Really? I appreciate the gesture, but I'm afraid I already ate. I didn't expect to be invited over for dinner," he wormed his way out of it as best as he could.

"Well, would've been a shitty surprise if I told you beforehand! And I'm sure you got some space left in your stomach! Venus is such a great cook as well," Clarence just laughed, and Jonathan could only smile back awkwardly as Venus rejoined them with a silver tablet in her arms. On top was a baked salmon dish, still steaming when she set it down between them. 

"Considering those dire times, I am truly thankful for us three to be still alive. I thank the Lord for the gift of life, amen." As Clarence uttered those words he watched Jonathan very carefully. His heart was still racing in his chest. 

"I really miss going to church," Venus sighed longingly as she brought a bottle of wine and three glasses to the table.

"I'm convinced London will return to its normal state soon," Jonathan said, feeling very uncomfortable under Clarence's scrutinizing gaze.

"I'm not as optimistic. There is far too much evil roaming the streets." Those words got him an angry glare from his wife, but she didn't say anything as she filled her plate.

"Jonathan?" she offered to take his plate as well, but he shook his head.

"I'm very sorry, but I just ate before coming here. Since the war... I often get sick when eating too much." It was a petty lie he wasn't comfortable with, but he had to get out of this stressful situation. It was not how he'd imagined this evening at all...

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jonathan." Venus frowned at him worriedly, but Clarence tensed up.

"Come on, Jonny, just a bite! It's really delicious!"

"Clarence, stop pushing! You heard what he said," Venus scolded him.

"A glass of wine at least?" Clarence grabbed his glass without waiting for an answer, pouring the red liquid into it.

"I really-..."

"You like wine. You always liked wine!" Clarence stared at him persistently and Venus gasped.

"Clarence, are you feeling alright?" Jonathan asked warily. Something was very obviously wrong with him, he should've noticed sooner.

"Y-Yes, I'm sorry..." He slumped together slightly, holding his head as if in pain. His eyes seemed hurt as he looked at Jonathan again.

"Jonny, are you... Are you still the same?" He was scared. His pupils were dilated, his pulse was dangerously high and when looking close enough, he was shaking slightly. He suspected something. Jonathan bit his lip. 

"What do you mean?" he asked calmly, much opposed to the panic spreading inside him.

"You... You've become so distant. And then Mary died... So many die in the streets. Yet you walk them unharmed every night. So I'm asking you... Are you still the same?" Sweat started to form on his forehead and the shaking intensified.

"Clarence, stop!" Venus hissed in shock.

"No. I'm not the same," Jonathan responded, giving his best to keep his voice low and soothing.

"The war has changed all of us. And yes, I face danger from time to time, but the war was and will always be worse. My dear sister is gone and my mother's mind is fading. Sometimes I wonder how I'm supposed to go on." He lowered his gaze. It was not the whole truth, but his words were true enough.

"Oh, Jonathan. Once everything's over, we can go to church together," Venus murmured, her appetite seemingly gone as she just stared at her half empty plate.

"Jonny, please! I need to be sure." Clarence's voice cracked and he almost dropped Jonathan's plate as he took it with trembling hands to fill it up.

"Eat."

"Clarence... I-..."

"You must stop this, Clarence! I can't believe you have to bring up this vampire nonsense in front of Jonathan! He's not doing well and this is how you choose to treat him?!" Venus snapped and stood up to glower at her husband.

"Believe me, Venus, I don't want this to be true, but you have to open your eyes!" Clarence shouted back. Jonathan sat frozen in place, uncertain what to do. He should leave, but then he could never return.

"Jonny, I beg you! Just one bite! That's all I need to see!" Clarence pleaded and Venus turned to him as well.

"Jonathan, I'm so sorry for his behavior. Just do it so all of us can calm down again, please!" The silence stretched awkwardly until it felt like time itself had stopped.

"I... I'm sorry..." Jonathan finally rasped hoarsely and slowly got up from his seat.

"Jonathan, please! Put an end to his delusions!" Venus cried out and grabbed him by the sleeve, tears forming in her eyes. 

"Venus, step away from him!" Clarence yelled and they both jumped when he suddenly pointed a gun at Jonathan. He must've hidden it beneath the table all this time...

"Clarence! This is madness!" Jonathan carefully raised his hands to show he was defenseless.

"Then why won't you eat?!" Clarence's hand was shaking so much, he almost aimed at Venus stood right next to Jonathan. She whimpered in fear, covering her head.

"And don't tell me vampires aren't real, you know they are!"

"Jonathan, just eat it! Please, just eat it!" Venus screamed with her eyes tightly shut.

"Put the gun away, Clarence..." Jonathan spoke, but his own voice started to shake.

"Eat or I'll shoot you, monster!" Clarence shouted breathlessly. Jonathan's heart shattered into pieces. He'd tried so hard to prevent this from happening. To look his best friend in the eye and see the hatred.

"You killed Mary, didn't you! She died and you returned!" Clarence yelled as Jonathan did not move. He had no way out of this. Only one last resort.

"How dare you pretend to be Jonny, you vile thing!" A gunshot resounded through the house and Jonathan's eyes widened. He had not expected Clarence to actually pull the trigger. But the bullet was flying right towards his chest. Shadows clung to his form as he dodged to the side and it hit the cabinet behind him. Venus let out a deafening scream and Clarence dropped the weapon in shock. Jonathan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You will both forget this evening. I was never here, I am not a vampire," he spoke, his voice accompanied by a low rumbling that echoed through the entire house. Clarence's and Venus's eyes became glassy as they watched him detached from their minds.

"Yes Jonathan, of course," Venus mumbled with a monotone voice.

"Yes, Jonny," Clarence uttered in the same manner. It was awful. How he directed them like puppets. Yet this was the only way. Was it selfish perhaps? Wanting to keep your only friend, deleting their memory for their own good? Or did he do this for himself...? Jonathan felt sick. He turned quickly, almost forgetting his coat on the way out as he fled. 

Once the cold night air surrounded him, he scurried into the darkest of shadows behind the house, to curl up and watch his entire body shake. He'd imagined to spend a nice evening with the Crossleys. Instead Clarence had shot at him. And Jonathan just twisted their minds the way he desired, treated them like lesser beings, objects for him to put where he wanted them. He was such a horrible creature. 

Hiding his head between his knees, he started to sob. Wherever he went, he was a monster. Geoffrey popped up in his mind. Darkened blue eyes watching him closely, warily. A hand reaching for his. Jonathan's hitched breathing slowed, his hands stopped shaking slowly. Thinking of Geoffrey... It calmed him down. Jonathan's eyes widened at the realization. He should return to the Pembroke hospital and gather himself. For now he could only hope he did the right thing.

Chapter Text

"Mr Wellford, back to see Dr Reid?" The nurse at the reception desk showed Geoffrey a mean smile as he held back the urge to groan. Being here reminded him too much of the fight in the attic. Why had he come in the first place? This was so stupid...

"Yes, actually, is he here?" he grunted not exactly polite and the nurse shrugged.

"You can wait for him in front of his office, I guess. Don't know when he'll be back, though."

"Great, thanks," he huffed and made his way past her upstairs, figuring this was all he'd get. Of course he didn't wait in front of the door that spelt Reid's name on a plaque next to it. It wasn't locked, so he barged right in. Technically it was still a leech lair, so it kind of was his duty as a vampire hunter to at least make sure Reid didn't hide any bodies in there.

He didn't exactly know what he'd expected, but Geoffrey quickly found out sniffing around in Reid's office was about as much fun as his own desk work. The most interesting things he found were a wardrobe full of the same coats and shirts the doctor used to wear, next to it a medium sized plant in very good condition. He'd always been under the impression leeches despised plants, but again; Reid was a fucking weird leech.

Maybe Geoffrey should leave while the doctor was still absent. By all means, he should stay away from him. He barely remembered the evening at the Turquoise Turtle, but something ached in his chest when he thought about Reid. He'd let his mind wander too far since then. It's still the fucking bite, nothing else...

No. Reid was different. The way he cared for others without expecting anything in return... And he did offer Geoffrey to analyze his blood to figure out what was going on with his body. He was here for that and nothing else. Certainly not to just... see him. How he was doing after he'd met Astrid. Why he had seemed so broken according to her.

Geoffrey walked up to the cluttered desk to take a look at the complex medical equipment and handwritten formulas. He noticed a letter on top of a few documents, suddenly alerted when he read the name Crossley. With a jolt he was reminded of the new recruit who'd stormed out of the theatre, claiming to prove that Jonny wasn't a leech. Geoffrey's hand cramped around the paper.

Hey Jonny, I thought you'd cheer up if you get this message. Venus and I would be delighted if you join us tomorrow night to chat like we used to before those dire times. I hope you can make it!

Your dearest friend,

Clarence Crossley

Now Geoffrey had no idea how old this letter was, but he figured Reid had received it pretty recent if it was lying atop his work. Which meant...

"Shite..." he cursed out loudly as he put it back down. He felt... guilty all of a sudden. He could've warned Reid yesterday night at the pub. He could've told him that Crossley had found out. Yet it didn't occur to him.

"Fuck!" Geoffrey yelled startled as his attention was drawn to a figure veiled in shadows appearing on the balcony right to his side. He quickly grabbed a stake from his coat and aimed for the chest reflexively, when his arm was caught and Reid stood mere inches in front of him.

"Geoffrey, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, his brows drawn into a frown. He wasn't even surprised to see him. Figured, with that blood vision of his. Reid looked fucking miserable though, like he barely managed to stand without his body just slumping together.

"I... Uh..." Geoffrey cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly returning the stake back into his strap. Damnit, when was the last time he'd snapped at Reid for using his first name? And since when had Geoffrey started to call him Reid in his mind...?

"If you're here to throw foul words at me, please do so quickly, I'm not sure how much I can handle," the doctor sighed with such a hurt tone to his voice, Geoffrey's chest tightened. He watched him sit down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and simply staring at the floor with a dull look in his eyes.

"Are you... alright?" Geoffrey started fidgeting uncomfortably as Reid raised his gaze in mild surprise. For some reason Geoffrey felt sick when he thought of Reid assuming immediately he wanted to hurt him every time he approached.

"No..." the man responded after a long silence, his voice barely a whisper. 

"Crossley?" Geoffrey asked and Reid flinched, his eyes widening. He didn't respond and Geoffrey quickly gathered the words in his head.

"He found out because of me. Signed up as a Priwen recruit the other night." The silence was so pressing he couldn't help opening his mouth again.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. Geoffrey felt awful just standing there. One half of him wanted to leave as the situation was way too overwhelming for him to deal with, but his other half wanted to stay and reach out for Reid. Sit down next to him and share his pain.

"It's not your fault. It was bound to happen," Reid finally said absently and closed his eyes, before carefully looking up at Geoffrey.

"I'll never be able to get close to a human without them finding out eventually. Why I don't eat anything, don't go out during the day, don't age..." He trailed off, just for his eyes to darken.

"You were right, McCullum. I am utterly alone being this creature."

It was almost strange to hear him refer to him with his family name again. As if he wanted to distance himself on purpose.

"The closer you get to someone, the harder it will be to hide. But..." Geoffrey bit his lip. He was not drunk enough to have a conversation like this.

"It doesn't mean you have to be alone."

A cold bitter chuckle left Reid's throat as he buried his hands in his hair.

"You know that's not true. As soon as they know they'll never look at me the same way. They're scared and I can't blame them."

"I'm not scared of you," Geoffrey replied slowly and their eyes locked for a second.

"Well, you should be, McCullum! You of all people know how much of a monster I truly am! I almost murdered you, for God's sake!" Reid suddenly raised his voice and got up, causing Geoffrey to step back and grasp a stake on instinct.

"Sure, you're a monster that almost killed me, while I was trying to kill you too, mind that. But instead you fucking save me from death and give free medicine to every poor bastard in London. Hell, you even got Tom his stupid booze, though that was clearly not your job! You're being hunted through the streets by my men, yet you never hurt them fatally. You're a very considerate monster is what I'm saying." He just let his words flow freely as Reid stared him down, clearly unconvinced. Geoffrey resented himself for having reached for his weapon like that. Spending his whole life as a vampire hunter wasn't exactly helpful when it came to stop seeing Reid as a possible threat...

"And what if it's all a game to me, like you suspected? I'm a manipulative leech after all, am I not?! A reanimated corpse! A beast occupying a human shell!" 

Geoffrey's heartbeat spiked as the other man bared his fangs at him. They weren't particularly long at the moment, in fact a cue that Reid was feigning his act. Yet the gesture was threatening enough for his body to scream at him to finally ram the stake into his dead heart. But instead Geoffrey retreated his hand, calming his pulse with a long sigh through his nose, his gaze determined as he saw his own reflection in those pale grey orbs, that forced so many emotions beneath their surface.

"Reid. If you want me to leave, just say so. But I'm not buying this bullshit." He reached out to grab him by the arm, but Reid shied away, his mask falling as he sat down again with despair visible on his face.

"Clarence and I have known each other since we were children. Everything we've been through... It meant nothing in the end as he shot at me," he whispered, his voice failing him. Geoffrey craved to reach out. Touch his shoulder, just do something to make him feel better. All he managed was sitting down next to Reid with an awkward amount of space between them, the bed creaking under their combined weight.

"He really did that?" Geoffrey hummed, staring at the same spot on the floor as Reid.

"I had to mesmerize him. It makes me feel so inhuman." For a moment Geoffrey was surprised Reid's mesmerism was strong enough to simply delete an entire evening from someone's mind, but in hindsight, he always forgot the Ekon's power considering how vulnerable he seemed.

"Still, it's a good thing you're not comfortable with mesmerism. It's quite human," Geoffrey mumbled and from the corner of his eye noticed Reid's head turning towards him.

"Geoffrey, why are you being so nice?"

His stomach was tingling upon hearing his name again. He'd said the right things, hadn't he? Reid didn't appear as uncomfortable with him any longer. Perhaps... he should call him Jonathan? Ugh, he'd been so careful to maintain the distance between them. To clearly differentiate between human and beast. But he couldn't help it.

"I-... Don't get used to it. You're... You're not too shabby for a leech, alright?" he stuttered with a grumble and Jonathan let out a sad laugh. His heart fluttered in his chest.

"Sure, keep your secrets. Then tell me why you are here at least?"

"At the Turquoise Turtle, you offered to take a look at my blood, so... I brought you a vial." Geoffrey cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching into his coat.

"Well, two actually. One with King Arthur's blood as well, so you can compare and do all sorts of medical stuff..." 

At that Jonathan laughed heartily, the change of atmosphere almost breathable. He seemed to welcome the distraction and, that was just a hunch from Geoffrey's side, his apparently sudden friendly behavior.

"How thoughtful. So you believe me he was an Ekon?" The tiniest hint of fangs was visible in his smile and for some reason Geoffrey adored it. He huffed, his pride taking the jab.

"I guess there's something to it. Got a fucking sunburn a few days ago..." he grumbled, his face heating up as Jonathan laughed again, such a joyful sound to his ears...

"A sunburn? That is very interesting indeed. I can start researching right away." Their hands touched slightly as Geoffrey gave him the vials, his entire body tensing up.

"So... You met Astrid last night in the sewers." Geoffrey quickly changed the topic to keep the conversation alive. Otherwise Jonathan appeared like he wanted to get to work and Geoffrey would have to leave. He didn't want to...

"Astrid? Who is she? She did in fact... surprise me," he frowned at the memory.

"Sorry for that. She's my second in command, and a bit, well, unusual." Geoffrey noticed the grimace on Jonathan's face as he was obviously reminded of the pain he must've felt.

"Do you by chance know how she produced that horrible sound? I thought I lost my mind for a second," he admitted, unawarely touching his ear. Did it still hurt...? Geoffrey almost said that out aloud. God, worrying about a leech was definitely new to him...

"Yes, actually. She brought it with her from Scotland." Geoffrey retrieved the whistle Astrid had given him from his pocket. 

"It apparently releases a stressful frequency for vampires, is all I know." 

He noticed Jonathan wincing as Geoffrey intended to show it to him. 

"Please don't..." he whimpered, already raising his hands to cover his ears. Geoffrey was absolutely flabbergasted. He'd asked Jonathan for a favor, he'd made the other man laugh, and now... He still thought Geoffrey wanted to harm him.

"Jonathan, I'm not gonna hurt you!" he stated with wide eyes and Jonathan stared right back.

"Honestly, I know I'm a shitty person, but I'm not that cruel. Are you alright?" Geoffrey squinted at him as the other's mouth stood agape and he blinked at Geoffrey unbelieving.

"Y-You called me Jonathan?"

Shite.

"That a problem?" Geoffrey grunted, a little insecure for some stupid reason. 

"No, no, not at all! It... It's weird, but I don't mind it." Jonathan gestured with his hands, his former fear suddenly forgotten.

"Does that make us friends, then?" he then asked quietly, carefully glancing over at Geoffrey. The latter took a long deep breath.

"We're not enemies," he finally pressed out, just for his eyes to widen as a familiar rumbling sound filled the air.

"Seriously?!" Geoffrey snapped and Jonathan flinched, but the sound continued.

"I'm sorry, really! I have no control over it!" he tried to defend himself. God, if he didn't stop Geoffrey would start to blush.

"Fucking quit it! Leech! Beast!" he started to fling insults at him, yet to no avail.

"I kind of know you don't mean it," Reid chuckled nervously. Was it Geoffrey's imagination or was he sitting closer to him than before? He almost didn't stop his hand from reaching up and touching Jonathan's cheek. An image of Talltree grinning maliciously came to his mind. Fuck, Geoffrey suffered from the heaviest crush possibly imaginable. He'd still punch the fucker, though.

Geoffrey knew he could've tried. He could've inched closer, look deeply into pale eyes and finally touch those lips. Yet the realization hit him too hard. He actually fell in love with a vampire. No leechy magic involved, no creature messing with his sanity. Just his own mind and thoughts. It suddenly became very loud inside his head. Carl was yelling, cursing at him vigorously for liking men, for liking a filthy leech. His mother's scream was worse, though. Her choked cries as life left her and all remained was blood.

Geoffrey nearly jumped up, his heart racing in his chest. Thinking of Jonathan like this was disrespectful to just anything he went through in his life, all those people he cherished who were murdered by leeches.

"So, pretty neat for a leech lair," he cleared his throat as he paced through the room, feeling Jonathan's bewildered gaze following him. The purring subsided.

"Except for the skeleton in the corner, I bet. Don't worry, he wasn't my dinner." He seemingly tried to lighten the mood, but it felt blatantly awkward.

"Come to think of it." Geoffrey turned towards him with a frown.

"How exactly do you sustain yourself? Believe me, I tried to trace any bodies back to your account, but no luck there."

"Well..." Jonathan averted his eyes, hugging his torso as he stared out the window.

"Skals mostly. Rats occasionally."

"Rats?!" Geoffrey raised his eyebrows, but Jonathan wouldn't look at him.

"Hold on, the illustrious Dr Reid, proper toff of the West End, can be found in dark alleyways snacking on rats?" he snorted, but the other's face stayed rigid.

"Neither of us agree with the alternative, I reckon," he just muttered. Geoffrey pressed his lips into a thin line, scolding himself inwardly. He'd hit a nerve. Communicating with Jonathan was... hard. Whatever it was between them felt like it could either turn for the better or the worse in mere seconds. He realized they just didn't know each other well enough to recognize boundaries and sensitive topics. If he wanted to... He could learn.

"Must be shite," he finally grumbled and Jonathan sighed.

"Yes." Awkward silence filled the air once again.

"I never met a leech that didn't succumb to its hunger. But you... Is it difficult?" Geoffrey swallowed. He felt like an idiot babbling on just for the sake of it. Poking where he had no right to do so.

"You have no idea. I can't even describe it." Jonathan looked so tired all of a sudden. He needed to rest. Geoffrey wanted him to rest.

"And I failed after all. When I bit you in the attic-..."

"I was being an ass, and I'm alive, ain't I?" Geoffrey interrupted him.

"Geoffrey, I'm truly uncertain you mean everything you say. You've hated me for so long and now... Now we're talking like..." He didn't finish his sentence, clearly troubled, but Geoffrey had just the right words for him.

"Not enemies. And you know I'm pretty fucking clear with whatever I say."

"It's.... It's certainly strange. As strange as you calling me Jonathan. But not necessarily in a bad way." A weak chuckle left him and a spark of hope ignited inside Geoffrey. Screw his head and his opposing thoughts for now. All he wanted to do was get to know the man called Jonathan Reid.

"I never hated you, Geoffrey, but I really have to get used to you not hating me." The slightest smile caused a familiar warmth to spread inside his chest.

"Yeah. Likewise," he cleared his throat.

"But-... Do you think not enemies to potentially evolve at some point?" Jonathan tilted his head expectantly at him and Geoffrey's heart stuttered. Was he implying-...? No, no, what he meant was friends. God, he was fucking stupid.

"At some point. For now, it's not enemies," he responded and Jonathan nodded.

"Fair enough." He got up from the bed, setting the blood samples down on his desk. Geoffrey took it as a hint for the conversation to be over.

"I... I'll return tomorrow night?" he asked hesitantly and Jonathan flashed another smile at him, this time more confident.

"Yes. I'll be here. Farewell, hunter."

"See you. Jonathan," Geoffrey huffed and left rather abruptly as he swore he heard the Ekon's purr arising once more.

Once Geoffrey's presence escaped his senses Jonathan's heart finally started to calm down. Still, he continued to stare at his desk overwhelmed for a couple more minutes before his head was able to form proper thoughts again. Not enemies... Geoffrey had called him by his name, he acknowledged him as a person. And for a moment... Just for the blink of an eye, Jonathan could've sworn Geoffrey had wanted to reach for him when they sat next to each other. And then he'd recoiled, his face absolutely horrified.

Jonathan knew he could never fully understand the conflict Geoffrey fought with. It was a battle he simply couldn't win. But deep inside he hoped the hunter didn't regret his choice to have met him eye to eye, like equals for the first time. It seemed though Geoffrey was about as bad at socializing as he was, so it could be expected to step on each other's feet from time to time. But they weren't enemies anymore. That was what mattered most to him. 

Geoffrey trusted him to find answers in his blood, and he'd apologized for Clarence. And most intriguing... He'd disarmed himself when Jonathan had bared his fangs at him.

Yet what if he interpreted too much into it? What if Geoffrey simply had been in a strange mood to treat him like this? What if he called him a mindless beast again the next time they met? A horrible thought formed in Jonathan's mind as he considered the possibility of Geoffrey toying with him. Being friendly just to hurt him worse in the end.

"No, he wouldn't do that. I need to trust him," he muttered to himself to drown out some awful images. Why on earth was it so hard to have feelings...? And why Geoffrey of all people?

He's delicious, that's why, his beast answered for him and Jonathan shook his head. He'd wondered a lot whether Geoffrey's blood was irresistible to him because he had a crush on him or if he fell for him because of his blood. By now he was pretty sure he'd have developed feelings for the hunter were he human as well. 

Jonathan cleared his throat to finally start his work on the blood samples. Geoffrey aside, he was worried about Clarence and Venus. He knew he had to check on them soon to see if they were doing alright, but he absolutely struggled with the thought to visit their house again. Just to find their minds in pieces... Or Clarence trying to shoot him again.

He was unable to fall asleep this morning, although he had analyzed the samples until the first sunlight touched his balcony. What he'd found both relieved and upset him. First of all, Geoffrey would be glad to hear he was not turning into a vampire. However, he couldn't quite wrap his head around the reaction of the different blood cells he'd observed under the microscope. The vampire blood hadn't taken over, but it hadn't receded either, even after several hours. As if time had been frozen for the cells affected. And when Jonathan had compared them to his own blood, he came to an alarming conclusion. 

Since being turned, he had developed a new fear. It was similar to the fear of being alone, but it was connected to grief in a way he dreaded to experience. Yet he'd always known the day to come when all those he loved would reach the end of their human lifespan and pass. He had been scared about what would happen to his feelings for Geoffrey. Scared that he... ran out of time. That decades passed in the blink of an eye and everyone would be gone. Now that fear seemed to wither. In Geoffrey's case at least. His discovery set him oddly at peace. But he couldn't tell Geoffrey. Jonathan knew he wouldn't handle it well... Perhaps make him do something stupid...

It kept him awake. Geoffrey would be mad if he found out on his own eventually. How much would it break him? Would Jonathan be able to comfort him? Or would Geoffrey turn his back? Was he damned to be alone for all eternity...? He didn't have much time to figure this out. Jonathan had to rely on his heart leading the right way.

Chapter Text

"Geoffrey, you're very much human. Like... ninety percent. No, that doesn't sound right..." Jonathan's sentence merged with an unintelligible grumble as he paced through his office. 

"Great news, Geoffrey! You're not turning into a vampire, but you're not as human as before? Too direct perhaps." He imagined the hunter opening his mouth to shout at him before storming off, causing him to flinch. Jonathan stopped in front of his desk and massaged his temples. He didn't sense Geoffrey's presence yet, but he could turn up at the edge of his perception any moment. 

"Listen, Geoffrey. King Arthur's blood was mostly harmless, however you might consider getting used to staying awake at night rather than during daytime, just like you do already. Which is nice, because I really like you and would be delighted to spend more time with you." Jonathan sighed loudly as he sat down and buried his hands into his hair. Geoffrey would murder him if he said something like that.

Once it was past midnight, Jonathan's eyes were glued to the street beyond his balcony in hope to spot the hunter emerging from one of the barely lit alleyways. He did not. Time passed and Jonathan could focus on nothing else, but the sinking faith in his heart. 

He could hardly concentrate on the formulas he'd planned to work on, until the realization had set in that Geoffrey wouldn't be coming. He was not going to barge into his office, stand awkwardly in the middle of the room and stare at anything but Jonathan. He wouldn't hear his gruff, yet charming voice, get the chance to touch his hands even for a split second. No blue eyes that would soften understandingly. No presence to warm this cold and stale office.

Because Geoffrey had changed his mind. He was disgusted by Jonathan, most likely angry at himself for getting too close with a leech. Jonathan crawled into his bed way before sunrise, but he had no energy left inside him. He felt... heartbroken. Disappointed. Stupid for believing Geoffrey would accept him as a person. He hadn't even told him about his feelings. And still it felt worse than the first rejection he had received many years ago. Even his beast curled up inside him, wailing and starving willingly. Why...? Why mustn't he let go of Geoffrey? It could be so easy...

It was the next night when Ackroyd had loaded a full shift on Jonathan that he was glad about it for the first time. He'd been unable to sleep, he was hungry and he'd almost snapped at Howcroft earlier for insisting multiple times on them sharing a meal. He'd ignored Elwood once again asking more and more rudely how he'd changed Howcroft's demeanor towards him and now closed in on the reception desk.

"A man called Geoffrey McCullum. He was supposed to be here two nights ago?"

Jonathan came to an abrupt halt as he got a hold of the conversation in front of him and his eyes fell onto the man that had found Geoffrey and him in the abandoned house all those weeks ago. He remembered his name to be Harrison as the man turned his head to stare back in shock.

"No, can't remember anyone with that name. And that is our head surgeon Dr Reid...?" Nurse Hawkins slowly raised a brow as she looked back and forth between Jonathan and Harrison, the latter one started to shake slightly before clearing his throat.

"Ah, uhm, Dr Reid. May I have a word?" He barely hid the stutter in his words, his heart starting to beat irregularly fast. Jonathan started to suspect something was wrong.

"Of course, Mr Harrison. Follow me, please," Jonathan responded calmly and Hawkins rolled her eyes.

"Another admirer? Dear God..." she sighed, luckily having mistaken the man's fear for excitement.

Jonathan however was scared of Harrison suffering from a heart attack the closer they got to his office, his pulse increasing with every step. It was when Jonathan closed the door behind him, that the lanky vampire hunter jumped him with a stake in one quivering hand.

"What have you done to him, you monster?!" he shouted, halfheartedly moving closer to corner him, but Jonathan just blinked, not sure how to deal with the situation.

"I... If you're looking for Geoffrey, I have no knowledge of his whereabouts," he opted to explain as calmly as possible.

"Liar! I know he's given you blood samples to examine! Goddamnit, it's my fault he trusted you..." Harrison almost looked like he wanted to cry instead of killing Jonathan, ready to accept his fate as a vampire meal. He shivered in front of him like a caught rabbit unable to escape and on the verge of fainting.

"Alright, take a deep breath." Jonathan raised his hands carefully, stepping back to give Harrison some space.

"I didn't harm Geoffrey in any way. He's indeed been here two nights ago and he originally wanted to return yesterday night. He didn't, so I thought he changed his mind. I wouldn't know where he is."

"Y-You didn't kill him?" Harrison had slumped down on the floor, looking up at him unsurely. Jonathan lowered himself to the ground as well to sit across from him.

"No, he's my... We're kind of friends, I guess? At least I think so. And I'm worried as well," he spoke softly.

"Truly? I'm glad then... I'd be dead now anyways if you did kill Geoffrey," Harrison laughed painfully with a snivel.

"He's been gone for two days now and I've searched everywhere, not even Tom has seen him. But he's been here?" His round eyes stared up at him hopefully and Jonathan suddenly felt very cold inside.

"Two days? He didn't return the night he delivered the samples?!" he asked alarmed and Harrison shook his head.

"I thought he went for a drink. And when I found out he didn't and disappeared without a message I thought you-... I'm sorry..." Harrison muttered.

"Don't be, I am the most obvious suspect after all. But where could he have gone?" Jonathan got back up, offering the other man his hand. Harrison took it hesitantly and let himself be pulled up.

"By now I'm sure he ran into something unexpected. Or rather... someone. But I don't want it to be true." He started trembling again and Jonathan couldn't suppress a panic of his own starting to surface.

"Who do you mean? And we will find him, don't worry." It was easy to say, but Jonathan felt his beast slowly awaken from its dramatic low spirited state. If Geoffrey had been taken, he perhaps did not think of Jonathan as an inhuman creature unsuitable for company. And all those negative feelings were quickly transformed into hatred towards whoever dared to hurt his hunter.

"Jimmy Barlow, no one else comes to mind," Harrison responded as he tried to keep up with Jonathan's long strides towards the Pembroke's exit. He'd almost forgotten his coat on the way out. 

"Dr Reid, your shift isn't over!" Hawkins shouted after him, but Jonathan didn't stop. If Geoffrey had been missing for 48 hours by now... God knows what could've happened to him.

"It's an emergency!" he replied before stepping into the cold night air.

"Barlow? Wasn't he the one who killed Swansea?" Jonathan asked, turning to Harrison who wrapped a scarf around his neck to protect himself from the chilly wind.

"Yes. Geoffrey kicked him out for it, but he's now regrouping a fraction of traitors and scum, who agree with him. We've ignored him for way too long, I'm pretty sure their numbers have increased drastically over the last month," Harrison elaborated and jumped when a tall woman rounded the corner of the hospital wall and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"That's why I told you you should've taken care of Barlow way earlier!" she scolded him before her eyes were drawn to Jonathan, who froze immediately. He'd heard that voice before in the sewers. His ears started ringing in phantom pain.

"Astrid, what are you doing here?" Harrison whispered upset, while she lit herself a cigarette.

"Following you isn't hard. And since you're still alive I'm assuming our leech didn't have Geoffrey as a midnight snack." Astrid smiled at Jonathan, but it was so cold he wasn't able to respond.

"So, looks like we're teaming up to look for the idiot? Leech senses might be useful."

"Do you have any idea where Barlow could be?" Jonathan asked, feeling uncomfortable under Astrid's sharp eyes.

"One of our men got shot a week ago in Southwark, but he could hide anywhere! We can't even tell if Geoffrey is still alive! H- his body could lie somewhere in the Thames for all we know!" Harrison's voice cracked and Jonathan quickly had to hide his hands in his pockets as he felt his claws extending at the thought of finding Geoffrey dead.

"Listen, leech boy. I got one of his shirts, can you sniff him out perhaps?" Astrid tilted her head and Jonathan frowned deeply.

"I'm not a dog...?"

"But could you track him by the smell of his blood?"

"What? No, I can't!" he growled, way too easily frustrated, making Harrison wince. Astrid instead resorted to blowing smoke right into his face, causing him to cough. It left an unfamiliar biting pain in his lungs.

"Well, someone is agitated. Don't make me use the whistle," she warned him, while Harrison slumped against the wall and covered his face with his hands.

"So there's no way we can find Geoffrey? Is there nothing we can do? Priwen will fall apart if the recruits find out our leader is missing! And I'm not sure I can go on without him..." he sobbed and Astrid reached for his shoulder. Jonathan took a deep breath.

"Give me that shirt." He let out a sigh as he held out his hand. Astrid grinned smugly as she reached into the bag she carried with her.

"So you can find him with that??" Harrison's eyes were so big Jonathan feared for them to pop out any second.

"I don't think so. But... I can't think of anything else at the moment," he cleared his throat as he took the white fabric from Astrid who watched him intensely as he raised it to his nose. God, if he was able to blush this would've been extremely embarrassing... He still felt like a creep, but yes, that was definitely Geoffrey's scent he sensed. Jonathan closed his eyes. He could imagine Geoffrey right next to him... So close... So warm... Everything that ever mattered.

Harrison shrieked as Jonathan slipped into his blood vision. He had no idea how, but for some reason (that he knew very well), he could swear he could see and hear Geoffrey's heartbeat pulsing at the horizon. Was it his imagination...? Or could he truly track someone across the entirety of London...? No, not just anyone... 

"So... I can't explain how, but Geoffrey is definitely alive," he stated as he focused back on the two hunters in front of him, handing the shirt back, though he kind of wanted to keep it... Astrid narrowed her eyes, but Harrison's face lit up.

"Where is he then?" He seemed like he wanted to grab Jonathan by the arm, but then refrained from doing so the last moment.

"It's towards Southwark, that's all I can tell. Don't ask me how, I don't know myself, but he's there," he tried to explain quickly.

"Then let's go!" Astrid clapped her hands.

"Why did you take Geoffrey's shirt in the first place?" Harrison frowned and she shrugged.

"Knew it would come in handy."

"There's no time to waste. I'll go ahead, you two catch up," Jonathan suggested and the others nodded.

"Good dog, you're in for a treat if we find him!" He didn't respond to Astrid's spiteful remark as he blinked across the canal to make it to Southwark bridge with immense speed.

Geoffrey stared silently at white curtains moving in the wind. He'd fallen asleep, then. A welcome change for once. He had not at all expected Jimmy Barlow to stalk after him that night, waiting until he'd stepped inside a dark alleyway to surround him with his men. And Geoffrey had known there was no way out without risking to get shot. He was reckless, yes, but not stupid. Still, stupid enough to underestimate the danger Barlow posed. He had no idea where he currently was, nor how much time had passed. Harrison and Astrid were his best shot at being rescued, but... Jonathan could find him as well. 

"Jonathan..." Geoffrey mumbled quietly in his dream, the name still feeling foreign on his tongue in connection to the tall elegant man, so human, yet so far from it. Cold arms were wrapped around him and Geoffrey placed his hand on top of a pale one.

"Geoffrey. You need to accept it," Jonathan's deep voice spoke and Geoffrey closed his eyes. He knew what he meant. It was his own subconsciousness producing these words after all. If Geoffrey wanted to see a future in this, see him smile more often, hear him laugh and be close to him... He had to accept the fact that Jonathan was not human. That he could turn into a monstrous beast of blood and shadow any second.

"I'm not sure I can," he whispered, yet refusing to let go of the hand. He knew he had more pressing issues to care about. For example if he'd make it out of Barlow's grasp alive. But for some reason, he felt like a very powerful creature was watching over him, directing its wrath against Priwen's enemies.

"You can," Jonathan hummed softly and long fingers combed gently through his hair.

"If you want to." 

He wanted this, didn't he...? He wanted this badly. If only his mother's scream would leave him, or Carl's scolding. Or every memory he had of Ian after his death. If only he could stop seeing every leech as a murderous monster.

"Geoffrey."

"Geoffrey!"

As the cold of the night hit him and he was surrounded by darkness once again, Geoffrey knew he'd been woken up by the very same voice that had followed him into his sleep. His heart stuttered, his wrists aching as he once again tried to free his tied hands. Yet to no avail. He was unable to see with the blindfold covering his eyes, but when he heard a detonation in the distance and felt the ground shaking beneath his feet, he knew something was very wrong.

"Geoffrey!!" The voice was closer, but not fast enough as metal was creaking and screeching all around Geoffrey.

"Jonathan!" he yelled back, just when the ground started to collapse beneath his feet and he fell into the night.

Jonathan came to a halt as Southwark bridge appeared in sight and with it multiple heartbeats spread throughout various posts to guard the entrances to the bridge. Geoffrey couldn't be far, yet he was still outside his blood vision. He had to be here. And alive. He simply had to. Jonathan's hands cramped around the roof tiles he was holding on to, shadows seeping from his form as he gritted his teeth. If he wasn't able to keep his calm now and cool down... He knew his beast wouldn't hesitate. Realizing that sneaking would just cost him more time, he dropped his cover and jumped to the ground, revealing himself as he marched straight up to the guards.

"Leech! Leech! Take cover!" Jonathan ignored the shouts and evaded most of the bullets as he blinked past the men to enter the bridge through the side corridor at the docks.

"Die, beast!!" 

A bullet hit Jonathan in the shoulder as he closed the heavy door behind him and faced the man in the corridor. His legs were shaking as much as the gun he pointed at him and his face was ashen. A young and healthy heart beat at its fastest in panic as Jonathan strode up towards him, the second bullet to his chest barely slowing his pace.

"Where is he?" He forced the pistol out of his hand with ease, before grabbing him by the shoulders. Behind him he could hear banging and gunshots at the door he'd barricaded. His sight flickered into blood vision as he got distracted by his hunger. 

Just this one... So tender, so delicious... Jonathan quickly willed it away, focusing back on what was important.

"Where is he?!" he repeated with more vigor, but instead of answering the man suddenly screamed as the crack of bones could be heard. Jonathan quickly withdrew his hands in shocked confusion. Had he applied that much force...? The wailing figure slumped to the floor, and Jonathan rushed past him, suppressing his heavily conflicting thoughts. 

There was another heartbeat waiting for him close by. One between him and the smell of Geoffrey's blood that suddenly filled his nose. He hadn't known he was capable of making such a deep and resonating growl, but that was the sound that left his throat as he glowered at Jimmy Barlow stood right in front of him with the utmost calm, as if he was absolutely sure Jonathan wouldn't rip his neck open in an instance.

"Well, if it isn't McCullum's new pet leech," he sneered and Jonathan's eyes fell onto the device he grasped tightly in one hand.

"A rabid one, but not a bad asset with proper measures taken." Barlow's disgusting grin caused his growl to increase in volume as he started to pace in front of him with a safety distance where else Jonathan feared he'd shred the man into pieces without wasting another thought on why he seemed so unbothered.

"What do you want?!" Jonathan shouted, the growl distorting his voice to a sound unfamiliar to him.

"Me? Oh, you're a funny leech. This was a great plan. Everything was set up for McCullum's commanders to walk this bridge before I blow it into bits." He nodded towards the device in his hand, one thumb tightly pressed onto a button.

"Once I release it, Southwark bridge is no more. And neither is McCullum as one might find it hard to swim with their hands tied behind their back."

"You realize I could kill you before you release that button?" Jonathan threatened him, but Barlow simply laughed.

"Show me your fangs all you want, Dr Reid. In the end you're just an instinct-driven stupid animal like every other leech. You think I don't have someone with a backup detonator?"

Kill him. Tear his arms off. Drink his blood and rip out his heart! Jonathan's beast was causing a havoc inside him, his body starting to twitch as he barely kept the blind rage at bay.

"The Thames is dark and deep, you know... Leech senses are absolute shit underwater and the bridge is long... McCullum will drown for certain as soon as you decide to attack me."

"Do you expect me to give him up?!" Jonathan snarled, lowering his stance. He knew Barlow was right... If Geoffrey wouldn't be hit by a metal beam at some point, he'd vanish beneath the black surface of the Thames...

"No. But I offer you a fair deal. Don't attack me or my men and you get to save McCullum, or drain him or whatever your plan with him is, leech. Sooner or later you'll be at each other's throats again, I know it."

"I can't trust you!" Jonathan seethed, the smell of Geoffrey's blood still lingering heavily in the air.

"You don't exactly have a choice, do you? Now, what will it be?" Barlow grinned, waving at him with the detonator.

"Fine! But let me tell you this." Jonathan stepped closer until mere inches separated them, towering over Barlow menacingly.

"I can smell his blood. Whatever you did to him, I'll remember it. And I hope we don't meet again for your sake," he hissed and the confident smile on Barlow's face flickered for a fraction of a moment. Then he tilted his chin upwards to stare back without blinking.

"Oh, we will meet again. I'm sure of it." Jonathan held back another animalistic snarl rising from his chest as he stepped back to finally walk past him and follow Geoffrey's scent toward the other end of the bridge. Barlow's laughter behind him made him go even faster as he realized the man had no reason to keep his word. Jonathan wouldn't be able to save Geoffrey if he turned back to kill Barlow instead.

His steps echoed on the grid floor as he dodged the protruding construction through the narrow passage. And there it was. Geoffrey's heartbeat. Weakened, but alive. 

"Geoffrey!" Jonathan yelled, just as he heard the first explosives go off and create a chain reaction of loud bangs from both ends of the bridge.

"Geoffrey!!" The ground tilted underneath him and a large metal arch loosened itself with a creak, almost hauling him over the edge into the blackness beneath him.

"Jonathan!"

Jonathan's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't go any faster with the unstable ground and he realized in horror he wouldn't be fast enough to make it to Geoffrey. Adding to that were the bullet wounds he'd ignored before but now consumed a large portion of his energy to heal properly. For one moment everything was very still as the bridge seemed to be supported by one last beam. Then it tore apart right in front of Jonathan with a bone grinding roar of steel, metal ropes snapping and the wind picking up as the bridge part he was on gradually fell backwards. 

Jonathan lost his footing, finding nothing to hold onto, inevitably closing in on the water below him. He heard Geoffrey yell before he broke the surface, looking up to see the bridge right above him. He didn't need any air to breathe, but if he was crushed on the river ground, everything would be too late. By no means was he able to determine how to dodge any of the heavy parts plunging into the water all around him without getting hit. But he had to get to Geoffrey as quickly as possible.

His heartbeat was a pulsing red dot in-between the darkness, growing fainter the deeper he sank. Soon even Jonathan couldn't see a thing, the muddy and stirred up water impeding his vision. He felt so slow, as if there were arms physically restraining him. Keeping him away from Geoffrey... Too slow to reach the subsiding heartbeat struggling to stay alive. And then it suddenly died. All that was left was a weak glow, fading quickly. Jonathan pushed himself further, his body screaming in pain as he moved through the water as fast as he could. When his hands found a body, the red glow was almost gone.

As Geoffrey came to his senses it was like someone pulling the blanket away from him in a soft warm bed, exposing him to the biting cold of being alive. His entire body was on fire, his eyes burning and his lungs feeling crushed inside him. His limbs were numbed by the cold and he could barely move a finger. Geoffrey's eyes fell onto the face hovering above his. Jonathan... Sporting that worried look in those sad grey eyes... A hand was placed on Geoffrey's chest, the other one on his cheek quickly taken away. Yet Geoffrey could swear... Despite the numbness, pain and cold, that he could still feel the sensation of soft lips against his...

"Geoffrey?" Jonathan carefully lifted him into an upright position.

"My God, you coughed up so much water I feared you'd lose consciousness again," he muttered visibly stressed, and Geoffrey knew as soon as he opened his mouth to reply his lungs would start screaming in agony. Had Jonathan performed CPR on him...? 

"You'll most likely catch a cold, we need to get you close to a fire as soon as possible. And you have a rather severe head wound." Jonathan's hands reached again for him, this time to gently remove his wet hair sticking to the injury. Geoffrey couldn't even feel it, just remembering how Barlow had personally knocked him unconscious, before tying his wrists so tightly he hadn't even been able to dislocate his thumbs for a potential escape attempt. A glance to his hands confirmed that Jonathan had removed the rope, leaving angry swollen marks behind.

"Don't move," Jonathan hummed as he held Geoffrey's head in place, before reaching to rip a strip of fabric off his own shirt. It was wet and cold as he wrapped it carefully around Geoffrey's forehead, making him shiver even more.

"There's a safehouse not far from here. I could light the fireplace, get you some tea and take care of the wound properly," he suggested quietly and just the thought of this scenario made Geoffrey feel a little warmer. Jonathan's hands wandered from his forehead to his cheek again.

"Hypothermia... and shock..." he murmured to himself.

"And I'm not even able to provide body warmth." The hurtful look in his eyes was almost painful to Geoffrey. Jonathan had saved him. And he hadn't been able to do so were he human... Dark spots appeared on Geoffrey's vision. The gravelly shore of the Thames felt like ice beneath him. In the distance he could see the lantern of a small boat approaching. His body wouldn't stop shaking. For a moment he wished Jonathan would hold him. Carry him somewhere warm and comfortable. At the same time he was ashamed to feel this weak. And that in front of a-... Of the person he did no longer consider his enemy. 

"Geoffrey, your commanders are in that boat, they're here to get you," Jonathan informed him with his head raised towards the light source closing in on them. Geoffrey shut his eyes. No... He didn't want to go with Harrison and Astrid. Jonathan would take care of him. Better than any of Priwen's medics could. And Geoffrey could be close to him, perhaps reach out to touch his face, make him smile again. The warmth spreading inside him made him feel tired. So very tired, exhausted, drained of all energy. 

"No, Geoffrey, don't fall asleep! You'll freeze to death!" Gentle hands that shook him slightly. Geoffrey's eyes stayed closed. If he'd been able to move, he'd probably have resisted heavily against Jonathan lifting him up. He half-consciously noticed he was being placed in a boat, with a dry blanket wrapped around him. Voices chattered indistinctly, as if they were very far away. He could make out Astrid's snarky tone, Harrison's gratitude towards Jonathan, and Jonathan...

Jonathan was left behind standing on the shore. Geoffrey knew that without opening his eyes. Everything became very dark around him, the noise of rudders in the water silenced down by his very loud thoughts.

Chapter Text

Jonathan stood soaking wet on the shore as he watched the boat disappear in the distance. His coat was heavy on his shoulders, still dripping water onto the ground. He told himself it made sense. The boat had been small and he could easily swim back. It was not because... no one wanted him. But he was just a filthy leech, wasn't he. He couldn't expect people to accept his presence. A tool, that's all. Something that no one would be sad about if it was broken, that no one would spare a second thought as it was replaced right away.

He wondered. Would anyone go look for him if he waded into the waters of the Thames and stayed there, on the ground of the river, surrounded by darkness and emptiness. Would Geoffrey... miss him? Jonathan felt his hands starting to tremble. No... To Geoffrey, he wasn't even a friend. And once the epidemic was over, he'd end him anyways. There was no reason for him to become friends.

Jonathan must've imagined it. The look in Geoffrey's eyes as he'd bandaged his head and touched his cheek. As if he'd truly seen him, a want surfacing in those blue orbs. But Geoffrey hadn't been in his right mind. He'd almost drowned. Yet he was alive and that was all that should matter to Jonathan. His own feelings weren't important. He was dead after all. Just a corpse still walking this earth for some cruel and morbid reason. He was destined to be alone and treated like dirt.

Jonathan didn't know where his feet carried him as he started walking, leaving the river behind. Just as he stared into the mass grave in Southwark, he realized why. This was where he was supposed to rot this moment. This was where it should've ended. 

Geoffrey sat up startled from another nightmare, wiping the sweat off his burning forehead. He'd been having a fever for the past three days now and it was a constant living hell. Most times he found himself trapped beneath the surface of the Thames with Jonathan standing above him, watching him drown, before turning away. Other times Jonathan would carry him into a house, cover him with a blanket and make him tea. Then he'd sit down and take Geoffrey's hands. Sometimes he'd lean close to kiss him. Sometimes he'd open his mouth to expose razor sharp fangs and bite down hard on his neck, which woke Geoffrey up with a scream in his lungs every time. 

But the strangest were the dreams where he truly thought he was awake. When he was lying in this very bed and there would be a light knock on the door. Jonathan would come in with a smile and talk to him in his deep soft voice, although Geoffrey could never make out any words. He'd sit down next to him on the sheets, his eyes half-lidded and clouded as he'd reach to unbutton Geoffrey's shirt. And Geoffrey wouldn't complain, even with his messed up sense of reality. It sometimes scared him when he knew for certain that he was awake. That even when he thought it was real, he'd let Jonathan climb into the bed behind him, their clothes abandoned on the floor. He'd be sweet and gentle mostly, occasionally with fangs and claws scraping his skin. It was the moment Geoffrey realized he was still asleep, not even having woken up earlier, as Jonathan softly bit his neck. Still, Geoffrey moaned his name as a tongue caringly licked the bite mark and their legs were a tangled mess, the bed creaking beneath them.

"Holy fuck, Geoffrey, you must be having some wild fever dreams." Geoffrey's eyes snapped open and his head turned to Astrid who was sitting on a chair beside his bed, sipping a cup of tea with her legs crossed.

"What?" he just muttered roughly, covering his hurting eyes with one hand.

"Yeah, the blanket's not really hiding it," she tilted her head with an amused smile. Geoffrey's face exploded with shame as he realized what she was talking about. He quickly pulled up his knees.

"What the fuck happened to privacy?" he growled, but Astrid laughed.

"Oh, come on, Geoffrey. Remember how you asked me to dump a bucket of cold water over your head when you had your first erection?"

"That was fucking 25 years ago! Jesus Christ, you're lucky I can't make three steps out of that bed!" he seethed, causing his head to start throbbing painfully again.

"Anyways, who were you dreaming of?" she grinned deviously and Geoffrey groaned. Why wasn't Harrison here instead? He wouldn't have the audacity to screw with him like that.

"Can you leave me alone? I don't remember," he lied.

"Interesting. To me it sounded like you received some juicy leech cock up your ass."

Geoffrey was certain his eyes would pop out of his head any second.

"What the fuck?!" he hissed, glad that his cheeks were reddened by the fever already. 

"Jonathan. You did say his name a lot. And now you're aroused, it's not hard to count two and two together," Astrid shrugged.

"I have a fucking fever, alright?! Anyone from heaven or hell could come down and fuck me over!" Geoffrey grumbled. God, his head hurt too much for a conversation like this.

"And you'd enjoy it," Astrid mused with her lips to the cup.

"What's your fucking point?!" Geoffrey sighed exasperated.

"I'm just teasing you, idiot," she chuckled.

"Also, did you seriously think I didn't know you liked men as well?"

Geoffrey fell back into his pillow, giving up. No, he had not known, and it made him angry to have wasted such a large amount of energy to cover it up every time. Still, she didn't seem to realize he was into men only.

"And Geoffrey, we're vampire hunters. Every fucking soul here has at least once fantasized about getting naughty with a leech. And I really can't blame your subconsciousness for choosing the good doctor," she winked at him.

"Still," she got up with a sigh.

"You probably know this better than me since you always were Carl's favorite and obsessed with rules, but don't let the leech wrap you around its finger." Astrid waited for him to make eye contact as she stood in the door frame.

"They're manipulative beasts, and that will never change."

She left and her words stuck with Geoffrey like a slap to his face.

"Jonny? Are you alright?"

Jonathan could only stare past Clarence out the window as the latter one led him through the living room of his residence. He'd come here with hope, his very last one. But it dwindled frighteningly fast upon the sight in front of him.

"Jonny, I'm glad you dropped by since I have some great news to share, but now you're starting to scare me!" Clarence reached out to shake him by the shoulder, but Jonathan was unable to withdrew his eyes from the freshly dug hole in the backyard. 

He'd spent a long time at the mass grave, far too long for his own liking until he was able to bring the purpose of his existence into focus again. Taking care of London's citizens, of those who were unable to obtain medicine, and those who were difficult to deal with. He'd continue to keep the epidemic at bay as much as he could. The next night he'd sought out Elisabeth for guidance. Only to find her gone... All that was left was a note informing him that she had learned about herself being the healthy carrier of the blood of hate. And that she had decided to leave civilization behind. The pang inside his chest was still there. One soul less that made his existence more bearable.

"Clarence..." Jonathan muttered as the man seemed to get genuinely upset the longer he remained unresponsive. He extended his senses again, but no. They were alone in the Crossleys' house.

"Where is Venus?" he finally asked, watching how a grim frown formed on his friend's face.

"That's what I wanted to discuss with you, Jonny. Venus is not who you think she is."

"What do you mean...?" Jonathan asked slowly, and as he started focusing on his sense of smell, he perceived the rot of a decomposing body like he'd feared.

"She was a vampire! All this time I've been blind, but at some point I was certain. She always insisted vampires weren't real, that it was all just inside my head! And then, the evening you came by, it cleared my mind!" Clarence straightened up proudly and his smile made Jonathan feel sick.

"She has messed with my thoughts all along, everything of that night is a complete blur! She had a clever disguise, but I was able to spot the beast every time I looked at her from that point on."

"Clarence, what have you done..." Jonathan whispered dryly. He knew it. He knew it already. And yet there wasn't a sign of remorse in Clarence's eyes. Nothing.

"I did what I had to, rammed a wooden stake right into its dead heart! For that thing to dare impersonate my wife... I made sure it hurt." His face darkened as he curled his hands into fists. It was his fault. Clarence had killed Venus because he had shattered his mind that evening. Clarence was a murderer because of him. And Venus dead.

His fault.

His alone. For being selfish and wanting to keep his friend. He was a monster.

"I have to go," Jonathan rasped weakly, unable to look Clarence in the eyes.

"Are you sure? You don't seem well, Jonny, you can rest here if you want to," Clarence offered and Jonathan backed away from his touch.

"I need to head to the hospital," he just said and turned, his knees threatening to give in.

He didn't know what to do. Everything felt like a dream, a nightmare haunting him since the moment Geoffrey had left his office. Jonathan had no idea how to cope with the situation. Everything he did, every step he made, it all felt wrong. He was so wrong... Everything about him. 

Jonathan abruptly came to a halt as he noticed the crowd in front of the hospital. His heart stopped in his chest as he watched the nurses shouting up at the rooftop, patients and onlookers alike with their gazes drawn to the night sky in shocked expressions. A flood of hectic murmuring and gasps surrounded him as Jonathan entered the scene, staring up as well to the person standing at the very edge of the rooftop.

"Watch me, puny mortals, as I will soar into the sky in the embrace of night!" Howcroft shouted down to the crowd, spreading her arms.

"Miss Howcroft, this is madness! Return to the ground immediately!" Jonathan heard Ackroyd's voice yell from somewhere. She wouldn't survive the fall. Jonathan knew it was too late. He didn't have a second to think as Howcroft stepped into the emptiness before her. And Jonathan acted on instinct. He was a doctor. As long as he could save a human life, he'd sacrifice everything else for it. Because he could never forgive himself otherwise. He knew after this, there would be nothing left for him. Nothing at all.

The screaming started as soon as Howcroft fell, but it subsided abruptly when Jonathan blinked into the midst of the crowd backing away, shadows clinging to him as he managed to catch the woman just in time. Her eyes were wide and crazed as she stared up at him and a smile formed on her lips.

"Will you teach me to fly?"

Then the screaming erupted again.

Geoffrey rubbed his eyes tiredly as he stared into his half empty drink at a corner table inside the Turquoise Turtle. He knew getting drunk wasn't his best move after recovering from a fever, but what else was he supposed to do. Priwen was in a state of distress with more and more recruits going missing. And Geoffrey had a big fat hunch where they ended up. He didn't know how, but by now he was pretty sure Barlow had a middle man inside Priwen who convinced the recruits to switch sides. Being the face of Priwen while down with a fever hadn't been a good image the last couple days.

As soon as his men would think he was weak, Barlow would win. A confrontation was inevitable. And he'd have to teach his recruits to shoot  humans instead of monsters. He shuddered. There was something else he'd noticed. Geoffrey was about eighty percent sure he'd lost the whistle Astrid gave him when he fell into the Thames. Still. If Barlow had taken it and knew what it was for... Jonathan...

"Hey, McCullum. Long time no see." Someone slapped him on the shoulder from behind and he flinched, almost reaching for a knife in his coat. Thatcher and Blight rounded the table to take a seat across from him.

"Yeah. How's the leg," Geoffrey grumbled with a nod towards Blight. He was not exactly in the mood for conversation.

"A lot better than the doc, I suppose," Blight shrugged bluntly and all alarm bells started ringing inside Geoffrey's head.

"What about him?" he asked and Thatcher grimaced, shooting a glare at his partner.

"Well..." Thatcher sighed while Geoffrey's eyes were trained hard on him.

"We haven't been back to the hospital, but according to rumors he's been expelled... Sort of."

"What?! Why?" Geoffrey's hands cramped around his mug and Blight raised an eyebrow at his sudden attitude change.

"We're not exactly sure, because it does sound rather strange, and Tom's source was Clay Cox, but... Apparently there was a woman jumping from the rooftop and Dr Reid moved with superhuman speed to catch her. Bullshit if you ask me," he explained and Geoffrey felt all the color leave his face.

"Still, maybe you should be careful if you seek him out," Thatcher advised hesitantly. The cracking of glass could be heard before Geoffrey's mug snapped inside his hand and liquid and shards alike spilled over the table. Thatcher winced, but Blight leant over curiously.

"What do you know, McCullum? Help us out here, because Cox swears Reid is a vampire or some shit." He rolled his eyes, but Geoffrey didn't respond. He had to find Jonathan as quick as possible to make sure he was alright. He knew already, he was not. He couldn't be. And he had nowhere to go.

"Can you tell me where he is?" he asked, already suspecting it was in vain.

"Nope, we'd like that ourselves. Especially since he wanted to check on my leg again. Tell us if you find him, though," Blight responded as Geoffrey got up, pushing his chair aside just as Sabrina rounded the corner, cursing at the mess on the table and throwing a heated glare at Geoffrey.

"Also, grow a pair and take your chance!" Blight shouted after him, causing Geoffrey to haste out of the door even quicker.

"Shite..." he muttered under his breath as he stepped into the rainy night. He should check the Pembroke first, just to be sure. He started striding along the docks with wide steps, the cold rain seeping through his clothes in a matter of minutes. He still couldn't believe Jonathan would reveal himself to save a life. But then... It was Jonathan. The saddest, mournful creature perusing the streets of London. Of course he would. Even if it cost him everything. God, Geoffrey had to tell him. Tell him how much he meant to him. Because he knew Jonathan thought himself to be worth nothing. And it hurt Geoffrey far deeper than he was comfortable with.

"You again." The nurse at the reception desk frowned at him as Geoffrey entered the Pembroke, leaving a wet trail over the freshly polished floor. Nothing had seemed out of order once he arrived. Except perhaps for the silence. There were still voices to be heard, but they were shushed, quieting down almost in panic once he passed. The nurse herself seemed quite agitated upon seeing him.

"Dr Reid. Where is he?" She flinched at the mention of his name.

"He's no longer working here, I wouldn't know. If that's all, I'd ask you to leave now," she responded harshly, the muscles of her face twitching.

"What happened?" Geoffrey pressed, noticing how she paled by the minute.

"The administrator let him go. Please leave now before I have to call someone," she threatened him and Geoffrey backed away.

"Alright, alright. No need," he grumbled. He wouldn't find anything here. Certainly no one willing to talk about something that according to their understanding of the world couldn't be real.

Geoffrey remembered something as he passed the gate. How Jonathan broke down in front of his sister's grave. How he'd told Geoffrey he had nothing else left. If he was right... Hope started building up in his heart.

"Oy, watch it, dickhead!" Someone grunted at him as he bumped shoulders with a figure in the dark and almost knocked them over. In the dim streetlight he recognized the scrawny face of Clay Cox.

"Piss off, I don't have time for you," Geoffrey growled, watching how Cox's eyebrows twitched in a fight or flight conflict.

"I heard you talk to the pretty nurse. You're here for the doc, aren't you?" he grinned instead, causing Geoffrey to stiffen up.

"I knew something was wrong with him. The way he looked at me when he approached after I stabbed a fucker to death. Like a fucking starved animal eying its prey."

"What do you know?" Geoffrey hissed, but Cox didn't seem afraid of him, laughing instead and taking a swig out of his bottle.

"I've seen what's going on in the streets. Fucking people eating corpses, their teeth sharp and their claws long. It's funny to think he always played the nice and decent doctor. When beneath there was a beast stalking you all along. God, I want that power for myself... I do hope I meet him again," he snickered. His mind was clearly gone. There was fear hidden behind a crazed layer of admiration in those repulsing eyes. But Geoffrey couldn't care less.

"You know nothing," he sneered, pushing Cox aside to keep moving.

"Still being fooled, huh? You'll think of me when he rips out your throat and eats your flesh!" the man shouted after him and Geoffrey drowned out his laughter. The rain became heavier the closer he got to the graveyard. He cursed as he realized he was without his sword. If it came down to it, he still had his stakes, but he had to be careful.

His worries were unnecessary. The cemetery was eerily silent except for raindrops hitting stone and trees, small rivulets of water trickling down the pavement. It wasn't long until he stumbled across the first dead Skal. And there were more to come as he made his way up along the fence. Drained, torn to bits, with the endless rows of gravestones posing a hellish background. From what Geoffrey could determine some corpses were a few days old, but some seemed fresh. Either he would find Jonathan if he ventured on, or he'd die by the hand of an unidentified Ekon on a killing spree. Against all odds he was willing to take the risk. He knew he should be afraid. If he did find Jonathan, would he still be the same...? 

Geoffrey stopped at the gate to the circular court where he'd met the vampire the last time. Rain glued his hair to his forehead, heavy on his lashes as he could make out a blurred form in front of the tombstone of Mary Reid. He started walking again, slowly, as the shadows seemed to swell around him. Soon the darkness was so thick he could barely see his hands in front of his face. It was unnatural, every sense of his screamed at him to turn back or at least grab a weapon. 

A weeping noise broke through the pattering of the rain and Geoffrey's heart sank inside his chest. He couldn't see him, but Jonathan had to be right in front of him, obscured in shadows, hiding himself from the world. Geoffrey carefully lowered himself, his hand grazing the cold wet stone of the grave, then brushing a shoulder. The corresponding body was trembling beneath his palm, shaken by heart-wrenching sobs. Geoffrey bent his knees until he was able to sit down with his back against the stone, his hand firm on Jonathan's shoulder.

"Jonathan," he spoke and the sobbing stopped as if he only then became aware of his presence.

"Can you hear me?" Geoffrey muttered quietly. The body next to him didn't move any longer, as if entering a shock like a deer in headlights. Geoffrey waited patiently. There was no response, but the shadows around them seemed to retreat. Soon enough he could make out the outline of the vampire next to him, curled up with his arms wrapped around his pulled up knees and his head hidden between his legs. Geoffrey couldn't see his face, but he guessed it was far from the composed expression Jonathan usually wore. His hair was a disheveled mess with the rain smoothing it into all directions and his coat was so drenched with water it had to weigh close to a hundred pounds. He wondered how long he'd been sitting here in the rain... It was irresponsible of him to join Jonathan in his silence after just recovering from hypothermia, but that was on him. He'd stay, whatever the cost. And he knew his efforts were worth it, when Jonathan shyly raised his head after a while.

"You'll be sick again, Geoffrey." Although his voice made a rough and scratchy sound, Geoffrey was way too glad to hear it.

"I know," he shrugged, feeling how the other gazed at him in wonder, before quickly turning away when Geoffrey looked back at him.

"You should leave," he whispered. The dullness in his eyes scared him. Geoffrey's hand still rested on his shoulder. There was so much sorrow beneath the surface, he could almost feel it emitting from his body.

"Not moving until you are," Geoffrey replied gruffly and Jonathan's body cramped.

"My time is up," he whimpered.

"There's no more good I can do. I have no purpose, no reason to exist." He turned his head to look at Geoffrey and his heart shattered into a million pieces. Red tears streaking his pale face, washed away by the rain seconds later, his lips quivering and his eyes... How often had Geoffrey seen those eyes, so full of hopelessness and despair? Hadn't he always wanted to see him smile, to see those pale grey orbs light up when focusing on him...?

"Please..." Jonathan whispered, his words piercing right into his soul.

"End this. Free the world of my existence."

Geoffrey didn't know how or why, but that was the exact moment he lost control over his body and his hands simply grabbed those sad man's icy cheeks to pull him close. He forgot the biting chill of the rain as his lips met Jonathan's and a tingling warmth spread inside him. It didn't feel real, he had no idea how his instincts had allowed him to do this and whether it was the right thing to do. He couldn't hear the rain anymore, just his own heartbeat pounding inside his chest as he kissed the man he'd fallen for. Jonathan stared at him with wide eyes as he moved away, yet his hands remained on his cheeks.

"I... I don't understand... W-Why...?" Jonathan stuttered insecurely and Geoffrey smirked lightly, even though he knew it wouldn't conceal his racing pulse.

"You're an idiot," he simply responded, leaving the poor man quite dumbfounded.

"Come on." Geoffrey got up with a shiver, holding his hand out for Jonathan.

"I know a safehouse not far." Jonathan nodded hesitantly, but finally took his hand. Geoffrey didn't let go as he stood beside him, grabbing his elbow and wrapping one arm around his waist to support him on his shaking legs. Jonathan started sobbing quietly again as they crossed the cemetery towards Whitechapel. Geoffrey led them into the first house to the right of the gates, retrieving his keychain from his coat. He almost had to carry Jonathan up the stairs, as the latter slipped several times, all that vampiric grace and elegance gone in his unstable state. Geoffrey sat him down on the couch after ridding them of their coats. His teeth were clattering violently and he quickly blew hot air into his hands before rubbing them together. He got to the fireplace next, his numb fingers fumbling with the matches and he cursed.

"Let me." Geoffrey flinched as Jonathan kneeled down beside him, he hadn't heard him getting up from the couch. So much for his currently nonexistent grace...

"I'll get us some dry clothes." Geoffrey got up, backing away a little embarrassed. By God, he'd kissed the man not five minutes ago and he fucking wanted to do it again. His heart was still beating impossibly quick as he rummaged through the supply closet inside the bedroom. He searched for quite a while, until he came to the conclusion there was only one set of clean clothes. Geoffrey quickly got changed before returning into the living room with a crackling fire bathing the interior in warm light.

"I... I didn't want to soak the cushions," Jonathan cleared his throat quietly as he stood next to the fireplace like misplaced furniture, dripping onto the carpet.

"So... uhm. There are no clothes left," Geoffrey replied equally awkward. It was silent for a while where they desperately tried to avoid each other's gaze.

"Oh, no worries. I can't freeze after all. And you'll be alright, so I can leave."

"You're not going to leave!" Geoffrey shouted unexpectedly loud, Jonathan visibly flinched.

"Let's dry your clothes in front of the fire, there's gotta be a towel in the bathroom," he quickly added and Jonathan tilted his head thoughtfully.

"If that's alright with you...?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Bathroom is to your left," Geoffrey confirmed. As Jonathan closed the door behind him Geoffrey set up some water to boil for tea. For a moment he was scared Jonathan would just leave through the window, but then he heard him wringing out his clothes over the sink. Geoffrey bit back a laugh as the man emerged with one towel around his waist and another one over his shoulders to cover up his torso.

"You're such a toff," he snorted and he could swear the ghost of a smile hushed over Jonathan's face for a split second. Geoffrey was in fact glad about it, because having him close shirtless would've given him a heart attack. Still, two towels did no good to prevent him from ogling as Jonathan moved a chair to the side of the fire, hanging his shirt over the backrest. Here or there Geoffrey caught a glimpse of pale skin from beneath the fabric, a sharp hip bone portruding, or slivers of dark hair leaving a downward trail from his navel. The light of the fire caught onto his defined stomach and it was hard for Geoffrey to finally avert his eyes as Jonathan turned to him.

"You can sit down, you know?" Geoffrey frowned at him when Jonathan continued to stand next to the couch as if he'd swallowed a stick.

"Ah... You sure? I'm like... only wearing a towel..." He raised his hand to scratch the back of his head, unknowingly revealing one side of his chest to Geoffrey.

"Jesus, it's not like you're gonna rub your balls on it," he rolled his eyes, causing Jonathan to hunch his shoulders in embarrassment. He could've sworn there was a tint of red on his cheeks.

"Geoffrey," he muttered hesitantly as Geoffrey warmed his hands on a cup of tea, the warmth slowly settling inside his body. The fire gave a vivid shine to Jonathan's eyes that he adored.

"You... You're... You mustn't feel obligated to do this... for me," he gulped and clearly wanted to back away, but Geoffrey held him in place by his wrist.

"And why the hell not?" he asked sternly, but Jonathan seemed at a loss of words.

"You-... What you did-... I... You hate me."

"I think it's pretty fucking obvious I do not." Geoffrey narrowed his eyes, setting down his cup to reach for him with both hands.

"B-But... I truly can't follow. All this time... I was so convinced you'd... But then you... kissed me." His eyes were wide and scared, full of panic and hope at the same time. Jonathan gasped when Geoffrey cupped his cheeks with his hands like he'd done back at the graveyard.

"And I'll do it again to prove my point," he muttered lowly as he rested his forehead against Jonathan's.

"I'm a leech, Geoffrey," Jonathan whimpered softly and Geoffrey brushed his thumb over his cheek bone.

"I know that, idiot."

"Why would you want this...?" Jonathan closed his eyes, waiting anxiously.

"Can't really do anything about the fact I like you." He watched him closely, every feature of his handsome face, anything that would tell Geoffrey he was pushing too far.

"But Priwen... Your life's work... You shouldn't put me first," he whispered.

"I'm an adult, Jon, I can do whatever the fuck I want," Geoffrey whispered back.

"And if it is kissing the man I like, so be it."

"Geoffrey..." he sniveled and Geoffrey wiped a single tear off Jonathan's face as it left his eye.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked gently and Jonathan drew a shaky breath.

"Yes," he muttered voiceless and Geoffrey carefully closed in, until his lips were connected with soft ones, sending sparks of excitement through him. Jonathan stayed passive, insecure and obviously afraid, but it was a start. The longer Geoffrey caressed his cheeks, the more he seemed to relax. He kept the kiss innocent and gentle, fearing to overwhelm him. And it was enough for now. In a very long time Geoffrey felt happy. It was strange how unfamiliar it was. He kissed a beast that he once swore to kill. But he cared for him, so deeply it sometimes hurt.

Chapter Text

Jonathan stared blankly into the slowly dying embers of the fire, huddled in his towels. The door swung open and Geoffrey returned from outside, carrying a couple of logs in front of his chest. He cursed as he dropped them into the fire, trying to warm his blue tinted fingers.

"I should've gotten the wood," Jonathan muttered apologetically, but Geoffrey shook his head.

"Yeah, I'm sure London was dying to lay its eyes on a vampire in towels," he snorted. Jonathan kept quiet. Geoffrey turned to him, still crouched in front of the reawakening fire, worry flashing in his gaze.

"Talk to me, Jon." Geoffrey seemed calm, but his heartbeat betrayed him. By now Jonathan had realized the man was nearly as clueless as him when it came to their sudden development. But there was something that stirred inside him when Geoffrey called him Jon. Something warm and tingling he thought he'd lost a long time ago. He didn't know what to say. How to explain to Geoffrey it was no use. That it hurt so much when he kissed him.

"I don't belong anywhere..." he rasped under Geoffrey's patient eyes.

"There is nothing I can offer you. This is a mistake, I shouldn't-... You shouldn't like me."

"Hey, calm down." Geoffrey approached him carefully, sitting down next to him again. Jonathan could feel the heat radiating off his body. His intoxicating scent filling his nose... Wasn't this what he'd dreamt of...? But it was too late.

"Listen, I don't want to sound like a dick, but at the hospital... Couldn't you have used mesmerism?" Jonathan winced at the suggestion and Geoffrey nearly flinched as heavily as him as he backed away.

"I turned my best friend into a murderer because I mesmerized him," he then responded dryly, turning away from the awkward space on the couch between them, wrapping the towel even tighter around his shoulders.

"Crossley?" Geoffrey asked aghast and Jonathan nodded. Guilt ripped through him and his hands started shaking.

"He killed his wife because he thought she was a vampire. I broke his mind. He didn't even show remorse. It's my fault... I don't think I can go on the way I am..." He stared into the fire, noticing from the corner of his eye how Geoffrey's hand moved closer. He braced himself for the contact, warm skin touching his shoulder, but Geoffrey seemed to have noticed his tension and reconsidered.

"You can't return to the hospital," he just mumbled, while Jonathan trained his eyes on the floor. Geoffrey cleared his throat.

"Would you perhaps accept a job offer from Priwen, then?" Jonathan met his gaze in utter confusion, causing the other to smile sheepishly at him.

"W-What do you mean?" he stuttered, his stupid heart beating faster. Maybe it wasn't over for him. Maybe he could be with Geoffrey a little longer...

"Well, we could use your strength, honestly. And as you realized, we don't only have trouble with leeches," he shrugged, inching closer just a little.

"You can't be serious, your men won't accept me among them." Jonathan shook his head nonetheless.

"I'm not saying it will be easy, but I'll get it through their thick skulls. Besides... we... We could spend more time together." Heat visibly rose to Geoffrey's cheeks and Jonathan wanted to reach for him right then and there, hold him close and feel the warmth of his body.

"If that's what you'd like. If not, that's alright, I know it's certainly strange. I- It would make me happy at least. I think," he rambled embarrassed while Jonathan watched his face in the light of the fire. It was no wonder he was drawn to him. His features were rough, but handsome. And he was kind. Beneath that thick hide of contempt and hatred for vampires was a man with a big heart. Geoffrey deserved better than him... Deserved better than to live this nightmare of endless war with the supernatural.

Jonathan could help him. He could fight alongside him, keep him safe. Eradicate every single leech in London to end this fight. The beast inside him raised itself at the proposition. A new purpose...

For Geoffrey. Your human. Your hunter. 

Jonathan blinked the oddly territorial thoughts away, noticing Geoffrey's expectant gaze.

"I... I'll consider it," he finally replied and the smile he received in return almost caused his beast to faint. Why was Geoffrey so perfect...? So gentle, yet so strong. His skin so tender and warm... His smell so tempting, his neck-...

"Jonathan?" Geoffrey tilted his head and Jonathan snapped out of it.

"S-Sorry. I just... haven't had feelings in a while," he cleared his throat and Geoffrey laughed. A sound that he could listen to forever.

"Just so you know, I will stake you if you bite me."

"Geoffrey, I'd never-..." Jonathan's eyes widened, but Geoffrey jabbed him in the side in a friendly gesture.

"I know, Jon. I finally know who you are. And that's why I trust you." His words were sincere, and they filled him with hope, but it was too good to be true...

"You really shouldn't," he frowned worriedly, but Geoffrey got closer to him instead.

"I'd be dead without you. A couple times by now, you realize that?"

"But-... I will never cease to be a threat. If I lose control again-..."

"Jonathan!" Geoffrey grabbed him by both shoulders and he flinched before carefully raising his eyes to meet stern blue ones.

"You're a very smart man, aren't you? You need to snap out of that tunnel gaze and stop being London's saddest and most tragic creature for once," he sighed and ran a hand through Jonathan's hair, dried by the fire and probably sticking into all directions. He couldn't recall the last time someone ever touched his hair. He hadn't realized how much he yearned human contact... He wanted Geoffrey to kiss him again. And then he thought of how he'd killed Mary when she'd hugged him. Jonathan froze and Geoffrey stopped.

"Am I too close?" he asked, but instead of an answer Jonathan's lips started to quiver.

"Jon?" Geoffrey asked alarmed and Jonathan shook his head as the other gave him some space.

"How can I allow myself to be happy after everything I've done?" he whimpered, feeling cold without Geoffrey's touch. He was certain Geoffrey saw him shiver, because he reached for him once more.

"Come here," he murmured softly and Jonathan closed his eyes as Geoffrey's fingers were running over his scalp again, gently easing him closer until he rested his head on his shoulder.

"Maybe you can't be happy tonight. But I promise you, there'll be better nights. You just need time. And you need to accept you're not a monster." Geoffrey's words were bittersweet as he closed his eyes. He wanted to believe him. He truly did. He even imagined them together... Still, there was too much the hunter was not aware of. That Jonathan was not Marshall's prodigy, how far from human he could drift, and Geoffrey's own changed condition that he'd have to come to terms with. It would drive any ordinary person away in an instance.

Yet it was too hard for Jonathan to pull away into the cold. His eyes stayed closed, his screaming and crying thoughts slowly calming under Geoffrey's rhythmic breathing.

As minutes passed Geoffrey got more and more convinced Jonathan fell asleep on his shoulder. That the vampire was relaxed enough to do so this close to him caused butterflies to explode in his stomach. Still, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Here he was, with that magnificent melancholic creature residing on his shoulder and feeling the biggest hypocrite alive.

Jonathan was a person. He'd kissed a person, a man with feelings like his own. Geoffrey's head started to throb. He suddenly felt cramped on the couch, the distinctive presence of a the being he'd sworn to end weighing down on him. The cold touch of a predator right beside his neck. Even if said predator was curled up like a kitten and fast asleep. Geoffrey swallowed hard. It would be some work to get used to it. And he knew the same applied to Jonathan. From natural enemies to tolerating each other to... What were they exactly...? Friends...? Something more...?

Geoffrey started to feel very tired himself, his fingers still absently combing through dark disheveled hair. He caught himself missing that soft purring noise the Ekon used to make whenever Geoffrey showed sympathy for him. But Jonathan was truly broken. Tonight being one of the worst nights of his entire new existence. Geoffrey wouldn't want to be in his shoes. But he could help him with the grief.

He carefully moved to the side, lowering Jonathan's torso onto the couch, and placing a pillow beneath his head. Geoffrey almost had the mind to peek below the towel that had sunken invitingly low around his hips, but he was a decent man. Sometimes. Tonight he was at least, so he covered the sleeping vampire with a thin wollen blanket draped over the backrest.

He froze on the doorstep to the bedroom. His stakes were still inside his coat in the living room. With a clenched fist he closed the bedroom door. An uneasy feeling overcame him as he laid down, images of blood and fangs flashing in his mind, a nervous tremor starting in his hands. But then he thought of Jonathan's eyes. Deep and grey, the reflection of the fire dancing across his dilated pupils. Geoffrey took a deep breath, his pulse calming. He trusted Jonathan. He truly did. He wouldn't need his stakes.

"How dare you..."

A whisper cold as ice made him shiver to his bones. Geoffrey looked up to the faint silhouette veiled in aggressive white light, obscuring any features. But Geoffrey knew. Oh, he knew... A hand reached for him, bright and blurred, touching his cheek.

"Why, my son?"

Sobbing filled the eerie silence. It left him gutted every time he heard it and was reminded of how he couldn't remember what it sounded like when she laughed.

"Does it mean nothing to you? Am I... meaningless?"

"No, Ma-..."

The hand left his cheek.

"You sealed a pact with the devil, Geoffrey." The soft shaky voice merged with the one of Carl Eldritch and Geoffrey recoiled.

"How pitiful..." The conjoined voices spoke and Geoffrey shook his head in an attempt to wake up.

"So weak. Not man enough to end it."

Geoffrey's heart stuttered painfully in his chest as he once more heard the words Carl had uttered after he'd failed to put down Ian.

"So disappointing. Worthless." His mother stared at him with her throat ripped open, Carl's degrading sneer distorting her bloodless face.

"Traitor. Lusting for a beast..."

"Stop!" Geoffrey yelled, but he was powerless against the mumble and hisses from all directions.

"I wish you were born dead."

Geoffrey awoke with a lung rattling inhale, sweat on his forehead and his body trembling uncontrollably. He covered his eyes with his hands, but the images from his nightmare returned. He quickly blinked them away. The sun had risen outside, shining onto the sheets. Geoffrey blamed it on his poor sleep, but his eyes started hurting badly the longer he stared out into the brightness. He shied from the light almost repulsed, making his way into the living room.

His heart stopped when he realized he hadn't checked whether Jonathan would be hit by any sunlight. But the Ekon was still as a rock, although the light reached his sleeping form. Geoffrey curiously observed the moving shadows he seemed to be huddled into. A passive defense mechanism? He'd never seen a leech being able to do that before. He shook his head bewildered, suddenly feeling nauseous. He really needed to go back to sleep.

Geoffrey felt awful as he took a stake from his coat. Like a filthy liar when he grasped it tight in his hands under the covers of the bed. But no more nightmares haunted him once he closed his eyes. No more voices, no more pain. Just his own self-loathing. 

By now it shouldn't surprise Geoffrey that vampires could have nightmares as well. It made sense. It made a lot of sense as he stood above the couch, watching Jonathan turn and writhe, pained noises leaving his mouth. The sun had finally set outside and with his stomach growling Geoffrey noticed it had been almost 24 hours since he last ate something. His rare steak in the headquarter's kitchens to be precise. Geoffrey shook away any strangeness that came with that topic and focused back on the matter at hand.

"Jonathan?" he called out as he gently shook the tortured form. Geoffrey realized he'd made a mistake when Jonathan's eyes snapped open. He knew from his own experience whenever someone woke him from a nightmare, that person wound up with a blue eye. And now he'd been stupid enough to wake a vampire, one that had fought in the war on top of that. He barely had time to react when a clawed hand seized him and threw him to the ground effortlessly. Beneath shadow and eyes that seemed miles away, Geoffrey saw the flashing of fangs. His own reflexes saved him from freezing on the spot. With a practiced roll he produced the stake he'd kept this entire time just the moment life flickered in those predatory orbs. Nonetheless the pointed wood pierced skin and flesh as Geoffrey drove it into Jonathan's abdomen. Quicker than he thought possible the man retreated into a corner of the room, taking the shadows with him and spreading them around him until he could no longer be seen. It was quiet for a while and Geoffrey breathed heavily, his heart hammering in his chest. God, he was stupid. So fucking stupid.

"Jon? Are you alright?" He bit his lip. The shadows seemed to stretch and the entire room appeared darker than before. 

"Stay away..." was the weak response from the corner inbetween a drawer and a cupboard.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't..." He what...? He didn't mean it? Geoffrey could've waited for Jonathan to calm down, just a second more and he would've realized where he was. But Geoffrey had decided to hurt him. Guilt overcame him.

"I didn't want to," he finally said, carefully taking a step towards the other man. The darkness thickened around him.

"Jon, please. I can't see," he murmured softly, knowing the vampire could hear him. Yet he stayed silent.

"It's my fault for waking you like that. Don't blame yourself." That seemed to be the real issue as the shadows crawled back to cover Jonathan again.

"I'm sorry, Geoffrey," he whispered hoarsely.

"We're too different. We can't just stop being enemies."

"No. No, Jon, that's not true." Geoffrey carefully approached him again, picking up the towels from the floor that had been lost in the action.

"We'll get used to it. We'll make it work, alright?" He finally reached the dark corner and it was almost funny to watch a pale arm reach out of the shadows to grab the towels Geoffrey offered.

"What if I hurt you?" There he was again, both towels wrapped tightly around his shivering body, a deep and worried frown carved inside his forehead as he stared up at Geoffrey with big eyes, the wound on his stomach already healed.

"You won't. You need to trust yourself a little more. Besides, I just hurt you, so this is on me," Geoffrey sighed quietly and offered his hand to help him up. Jonathan blinked at it before warily reaching for it with his own, hesitating just before Geoffrey could grab it.

"You had every right to," he muttered dejectedly.

"We will both have to adapt," Geoffrey replied, closing the distance to finally get him to his feet. They stood across each other, their hands still touching. Jonathan was as still as a stone pillar, his wide eyes on Geoffrey's face. And Geoffrey watched him back. 

"Can I hug you?" he asked and Jonathan blinked twice. He took that as a yes and pulled the vampire in. He held him close, placing his head on his shoulder and sliding one hand up his cold back, below the towel. Jonathan gasped with a shudder, a sound that would've made Geoffrey think of entirely different scenarios, but for now he just held him. And he had the feeling Jonathan needed it.

"Your clothes dried by the way. Not that I have any issues with the towels," Geoffrey chuckled. He probably imagined it, but it almost felt like the skin beneath his hand wasn't as cold as before. His heart skipped a beat when he felt Jonathan's shaking arms carefully wrapping around Geoffrey's torso.

"We'll figure this out, alright? I promise," Geoffrey hummed and the body in his arms slowly lost its tension.

"Thank you, Geoffrey," Jonathan whispered after a while and slowly let go.

"I-I'll get changed then," he stuttered awkwardly as he made an effort to retrieve his clothes he hung up the prior night. Just before he ventured into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, Geoffrey pulled at the towel around his hips in a very childish manner. The following squeak was nearly as rewarding as the view he got for a split second before the door was slammed shut.

"Oh hooray, the leech boy is back!" Astrid clapped her hands in fake enthusiasm while Geoffrey glared at her from his desk, Jonathan standing awkwardly behind him.

"We ought to train the recruits better, no one saw him coming in through the window," Harrison threw in nervously.

"Great. Here I finally give in to your plan to let J-... Reid work with us, and that's all you have to say?" Geoffrey crossed his arms in front of his chest with a scowl. Jonathan lowered his gaze at the correction of his name. He understood it was necessary to maintain distance in front of others, yet it left a slight pang in his heart.

"W-Well, it's great to have him on our side. It's just sudden," Harrison cleared his throat.

"So the rumors are true then?" Astrid chimed in with a smile directed straight at him.

"Everyone at the hospital knows he's a leech?" Jonathan didn't reply. He knew it had been a mistake to come. To accept Geoffrey's offer. No one, but Geoffrey wanted him here.

"Unfortunately, yes. So he's staying with us. He'll get his own room in the basement and the one beneath the theater to produce medicine." Geoffrey turned to him and Jonathan raised his head surprised. The fond smile made his heart flutter, along with the thought he could uphold his work as a doctor, distribute medicine, though anonymously, maybe make deliveries to Dorothy's dispensary. It wasn't over... He could still help... He could still be useful.

"Really?" Jonathan asked wide-eyed, fidgeting nervously and Geoffrey rolled his eyes, seemingly amused.

"Really."

"Wonderful. So we're adopting a leech and pretend to be a big happy family. You can be the mom, Geoffrey."

"Seriously, Astrid, knock it off for a while, will ya?" Geoffrey sighed exasperated, but the woman kept grinning cheekily. Jonathan truly didn't know what to make of her. For once he knew she wasn't scared of him, but otherwise... She seemed unpredictable. Yet she was fond of Geoffrey, that he was certain of.

"Geoffrey, you'll have to make an official announcement. We can't have people freak out because of his presence. No offense, Dr Reid," Harrison reminded Geoffrey with an apologetic look into Jonathan's direction. He seemed like a genuine and reasonable person at least, although he clearly was frightened.

"Yes, you're right. Any news on Barlow or the informant he smuggled in?"

"No, but the Sheens and some of the older guards are on it." He shook his head.

"Still, I fear not everyone will be happy about Dr Reid joining us. It could drive more recruits away," Harrison added with a concerned frown.

"Then maybe I shouldn't-..." Jonathan got interrupted by Astrid's cheerful voice.

"Don't worry, Jonnyboy, there's a very simple solution."

"Please don't call me that," he finally voiced his discomfort, but she just laughed.

"I'll call you whatever I want, leech. I have no doubts you're a very sweet and thoughtful man with a dazzling personality and morals, but you're a bloodsucker, so don't take it personally."

"Sure," he nodded dejectedly.

"That was unnecessary, as long as we're in private there's no need for degrading comments," Geoffrey scolded her warningly.

"Still, this is the only way," Harrison uttered uncomfortably, sending a pitiful look Jonathan's way.

"He will never be accepted as an equal member of Priwen, so our only choice is to deliberately present him as something of lesser value. Something that is under our control at all times and poses no danger to our own men."

"Priwen's bloodhound, what do you say, Dr?" Astrid asked expectantly and Jonathan's shoulder's slumped under the three pairs of eyes on him.

"I guess there's no other choice. I'll be your bloodhound," he accepted quietly.

"Splendid. Now, a proper dog needs a muzzle and a collar, especially when it's feral.

"He's not a dog!" Geoffrey got up from his seat upset, but Astrid didn't falter under his stern gaze.

"He just said so himself. Besides, how are you gonna sell it to your men that you've tamed the beast, when he's not constrained in an orichalcum collar? We need to display our power to make them buy it. And that includes locking up his fangs as well as any leechy movement."

"No, this is simply humiliating. I know he's a leech, but this goes too far," Geoffrey replied and Jonathan admired him for defending him like that. Geoffrey was a leader through and through, and now he cared for him. He cared too much...

"Geoffrey, it's alright." Jonathan stepped forward.

"There's no other way. And as long as I can use Priwen's medical equipment for my work, I'll do whatever you want from me. I'd rather have people spit on me than fear me."

"There's a good leech." Jonathan lowered his eyes to avoid Astrid's gaze.

"But we'll remove the orichalcum," Geoffrey grumbled. He sounded so protective, it was almost endearing. If it wasn't for Geoffrey... Jonathan wouldn't know where he'd have ended up.

"That can be arranged," Harrison nodded tensely.

"Alright. Astrid, assemble a meeting with the seniors to inform them first, before we dump the news on the masses. Harrison, call back every patrol out tonight, so everyone is gathered at the theatre in about three hours," Geoffrey ordered and his subordinates nodded.

"You better think of a good speech, Geoffrey," Astrid winked at him, before leaving through the door. Harrison hesitated.

"I'm so sorry for everything you've lost, Dr Reid," he muttered earnestly, shutting the door behind him.

"Listen, Jon, if you don't want to do this..." Geoffrey turned to him worriedly after they were left alone. Jonathan tensed up as Geoffrey reached for him. He wanted it. He craved the hunter's touch, but at the same time it was so shockingly unfamiliar.

"It's alright, Geoffrey, truly. I don't resent others for looking down on me, it's only natural. I'm responsible for everything that happened after all."

Geoffrey slowly approached him, seemingly not exactly knowing what he wanted to do, so he placed his hands on Jonathan's shoulders.

"I don't want you to think so lowly of yourself. To me, you're an equal. How you feel matters to me." His eyes were soft, so soft... Jonathan couldn't help but smile lightly.

"That means a lot to me," he hummed and closed his eyes. Geoffrey's body was warm when he hugged him. His only light in a world of darkness. And he never wanted to stray from it again, drawn to it like a moth. But there was a fear inside him. A fear that this fragile connection between them would give in too soon. That Geoffrey's conflicted morals would haunt him, that Jonathan was unable to control his instincts one night...

"I'll get you everything you need. Every piece of equipment, every ingredient, the recruits don't even have to know the medicine is coming from you," Geoffrey chuckled and Jonathan almost melted in his arms.

"And I'm looking forward to us hunting leeches together. Just you and me and no one else," he added with a contented sigh as Jonathan hesitantly returned the hug. It all felt too good to be true. But Geoffrey's light was captivating. He didn't know where this path would take him, but as long as he had a tiny piece of hope left inside him, he'd stay at Geoffrey's side.

Chapter Text

The red of the curtains blurred in front of Jonathan as his eyes refused to stay focused. He wasn't ready for this. He wanted to run away. Alone, with Geoffrey...

But Geoffrey stood on the other side of the curtains, sternly announcing the news to the gathered crowd. Traces of orichalcum powder burned into his neck as Astrid pushed him forward through the curtains, the heavy collar making his shoulders slump. He felt like an animal. And to everyone in the room, he was one. Except for Geoffrey. Yet Geoffrey couldn't allow himself to show any affection or softness towards him.

Jonathan didn't dare to look up. He didn't want to see the faces of hatred and cruel satisfaction, see Geoffrey look at him with that cold glare he knew all too well. Geoffrey was a good actor. So good, Jonathan doubted everything for a second. As if all was an act, just to have him right here, confined like a rabid beast that ought to be trained, and killed once it misbehaved. The iron muzzle attached to his jaw was so tight he felt his own heart pounding through the back of his head. But then he remembered their kiss, he remembered Geoffrey's eyes, his hands on his skin. Warm and strong arms holding him close, not minding the coldness. It would be alright. He could stand through this.

Surprised shouts, mixed with cheers and dissatisfied grumbling were finally silenced as Geoffrey raised his hand to regain the attention of all those gazes that pierced right through Jonathan in hatred, wonder and disgust alike.

"Dire times are ahead of us. And dire times require extreme methods." Geoffrey's voice echoed through the theatre as he started to pace on the stage, his hands behind his back. Jonathan followed him with his eyes. How upright and proud he stood, emitting so much confidence the hall almost felt too small to contain his presence. Jonathan had no more doubts about the sheer number of men that had followed him into this hell, chosen this life of bloodshed and horror. Who wouldn't be able to follow Geoffrey, seeing him like that...

"The leech is under my personal watch at all times, no one will have to worry about safety. And I understand those of you who do not agree with this measurement, but let me assure you; I'm not one to throw away any of your lives that could be saved this way." Geoffrey's eyes wandered over the crowd and the ones who still grimaced averted their gaze.

"How can you assure us it's tame?" A voice shouted, supported by approving murmur.

"Look at it!" Astrid stepped onto the stage beside Geoffrey, pushing Jonathan closer to the front.

"It can't bite, and its spirit is utterly broken. The orichalcum disables any leech tricks and I will distribute these among squad leaders soon," she announced and held up her modified whistle. The sight alone made Jonathan wince, reminding him of the sewer carnage and the pain as he'd believed to have lost his mind.

"Now, observe and behold!" Astrid smiled and as she raised the shining whistle to her lips, Jonathan noticed Geoffrey's mask dropping for one fraction of a moment. His eyes widened and as they fell on Jonathan they were filled with terror. 

The penetrating shrill sound of the whistle caused his knees to give in. Jonathan shut his eyes tightly and desperately clutched his hands over his ears, but to no avail. His yell was muffled by the metal. The next second it was over, but he didn't dare to get up, nor open his eyes, the world closing in around him. The voices, laughter and clapping he heard seemed miles away and fuzzy, as if he was underwater. The only clear sound was a deafening Tinnitus that spread painfully quick and worsened his headache. 

"Astrid, what the fuck?!" Geoffrey hissed after he'd rounded up his speech and dismissed the crowd, glaring at her while waiting for the last people to leave so he could help Jonathan to his feet.

"Sorry Geoffrey, but believe me, I saved you a lot of trouble in the long run," she shrugged. Then she frowned as she watched him pick up Jonathan by the arms and supporting him by the waist.

"Are you upset that I hurt him?" Her eyes had an amused, yet dangerous glint to them as she tilted her head questioningly. Geoffrey almost swallowed his words.

"No," he responded coldly.

"I'm simply pissed you pulled something like this without agreement."

"Where's your whistle by the way, could've performed this on your own?" Astrid narrowed her eyes and Geoffrey sighed.

"Lost it in the Thames. Remember? When he saved my fucking life?" He scowled as he nodded his head towards Jonathan. Something in the way her face fell told Geoffrey she felt a lot guiltier about this matter than he'd originally thought. Because she knew as well as Harrison, if not for Jonathan they would've been too late, maybe found his corpse ashore a week later, if not falling for Barlow's trap altogether. Geoffrey sighed a little softer. He hadn't wanted to rub it under her nose like that. But something about Jonathan caused his temper to heat quicker than usual.

"Get Harrison and assign new patrol routes. I'll take care of Reid," he muttered. His heart twinged as he felt Jonathan's body shaking beside him, his eyelids fluttering. At least he could walk well enough for Geoffrey to pass the curtains and make their way towards the lower level that consisted mostly of unused rooms filled with dusty theatre props and spider webs. A few weeks ago the electricity had given up as well, but they didn't need the space anyways, so no one took care of it and the basement stayed abandoned. Geoffrey grabbed a lantern from the shelf in the dark entryway and lit it. They took a few turns through the narrow hallways, past the room where Swansea had been tortured and into a small storage room that he'd told Harrison to clear out and place a sparse mattress in the corner. Just in case Geoffrey locked the door behind them, before placing the lantern on the drawer and carefully setting Jonathan down on the moth-eaten mattress.

"Let's get you out of this thing," he grumbled disapprovingly as he fetched a small key from his pocket to open the lock of the muzzle. Carefully, he removed the straps before letting it drop to the ground with a clatter. Jonathan stared at him with glassy eyes.

"Jon... Can you hear me?" Geoffrey whispered as he reached for his cheek with one hand. Jonathan blinked once, twice, his lips trembling faintly. No, he could not.

"It's alright," Geoffrey muttered, running his thumb over his cheek before making an effort to remove the iron collar. As it sprang open, he froze in shock. It had left deep red lines on Jonathan's neck, and skin that looked burned. Heated anger flared inside Geoffrey. Had he not asked for the orichalcum to be removed? What Jonathan must've felt this entire time... Pain, humiliation, worth less that the dirt beneath his shoes. 

He sat down beside Jonathan quietly. Then he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close gently. Jonathan let him, and as his face rested against Geoffrey's chest, he started shivering.

"Shhh, it's alright. I'm here," Geoffrey hummed, because it felt right. One hand rubbed Jonathan's upper arm soothingly, the other was tight on his back, refusing to let go.

"It's alright," Geoffrey repeated and buried his nose in Jonathan's soft hair. He hadn't known vampires could smell of anything besides blood, but Jonathan smelled like fresh rain, cold winter nights and a touch of mint. Geoffrey kissed his hair, closing his eyes. It felt right to him as well, when he carefully lowered the two of them into a lying position, holding Jonathan even closer. Despite their heavy coats being in the way and a couple of stakes poking into Geoffrey's back, he continued to run his hand through Jonathan's hair and kiss the top of his head.

They stayed like this for a while, Jonathan had closed his eyes, his facial features relaxing and Geoffrey was certain he'd fallen asleep. He smiled absentmindedly as he carefully got up, his hand brushing over his cheek once more. He'd do anything in his might to make Jonathan feel as comfortable as possible. And he wouldn't let anyone hurt him.

"Rest well," he muttered softly, placing the spare key to the room on the drawer as he picked up the still burning lantern. When he left the room and closed the door behind him, he hesitated. But then he made up his mind and locked it. He trusted his men, but not enough that none would try to locate Jonathan to kill him in his sleep. Besides, Barlow's man was still among them. Geoffrey shuddered. He had to catch the rat as soon as possible.

"Geoffrey, I need to talk to you." Harrison had awaited him in front of his office, following Geoffrey in as he unlocked it and went to sit down behind his desk.

"Spill it," he grumbled, sighing at the amount of paperwork in front of him.

"Geoffrey..." Harrison warily shut the door behind him, stepping up to the desk and waiting until Geoffrey raised his gaze.

"Have you asked Dr Reid about the blood samples he was supposed to research?" he grimaced as Geoffrey's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"How do you know about this?" he hissed agitated and Harrison flinched.

"I-... I did some research about the bite a while back and stumbled across files concerning King Arthur. Our archive is incomplete, but the brotherhood's-..."

"You went to see Talltree..." Geoffrey concluded without further information and groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands.

"Yes..." Harrison responded with a guilty look.

"I know King Arthur was an Ekon. And I know you drank his blood during your fight with Dr Reid."

"Great. So tell me then, will I turn into a fucking leech or not?" he grunted with a scowl and Harrison frowned.

"I'm... I don't suppose I can tell you that, but it's been quite a while, so personally I wouldn't think so, no..." he murmured nervously, before raising his head to look at Geoffrey.

"So, does Dr Reid have any insights on the matter?"

"Nah," Geoffrey sighed defeated. He knew Harrison would keep the situation to himself. Still, it bothered him that it was still unresolved.

"Haven't had the chance to ask him."

"Listen..." Harrison looked even more uncomfortable than before.

"There's something I haven't told you, but I thought you might want to know." He bit his lip anxiously and Geoffrey ignored the way a chill went down his spine. This couldn't be good.

"This stupid bloody steak of yours... I once served it to a couple of the boys, just the way you eat it."

"So?" Geoffrey pressed as Harrison took a break.

"None of them could stomach it. In the end they insulted me of being a horrible cook and that it was far from edible. And they're right, Geoffrey. You shouldn't be able to eat it this many times a week without getting sick." His gaze was filled with worry and... fear.

"I... Do the others know I eat it?" Geoffrey mumbled with a lump in his throat.

"No... No, but you should be more careful. Still, I suggest you try eating something else." 

A heavy silence fell over them and a very loud thought hung between them in the air. Geoffrey didn't dare to speak it out. But then Harrison softly cleared his throat.

"Geoffrey, I want you to know," he muttered quietly.

"Whatever happens, I'll be there for you. I want to help you finding an answer to this. And if it comes to the worst... I won't turn my back on you." He didn't voice exactly what the worst meant, but Geoffrey knew. And the tension left his body. He didn't deserve Harrison. The man was too kind for his own good.

"Thank you," Geoffrey responded equally quiet. Then the other suddenly gave him a sheepish look.

"Your teeth are normal, right?" he asked with a tone to his voice where Geoffrey couldn't tell if it was a joke or not.

"Yes, they're pretty fucking normal," Geoffrey grunted.

"Sorry."

Harrison smiled despite Geoffrey's glare.

"I'm glad you worked things out with Dr Reid."

"Well-..." Geoffrey really didn't know what to say to that. He suspected he'd been too obvious with Jonathan. Too protective, too kind. But he couldn't bring it over his heart to hurt the other man.

"Yes. He saved my life. Changes a lot of things," he finally decided to say and it was a good excuse for suddenly being friendly towards a leech.

"Thought so. You have a soft heart after all," Harrison grinned and Geoffrey started to grumble in denial.

"No, just want to do what's right."

When Geoffrey went to sleep at dawn, he thought of Jonathan down in the basement. If he could only be with him, lie next to him and hold him. He wondered if he was alright, suddenly fearing someone might've broken down the door with the intention to kill him. But Jonathan would've woken up if someone tried that, wouldn't he...? He closed his eyes uneasily. What if his hearing hadn't recovered yet? What if it still hurt? What if everything hurt, lying alone in the dark in that tiny windowless room on a rotten mattress?

He fell into dreams not of white curtains, but red ones. A stage where Jonathan was chained and inside a cage. Astrid stood next to him with her whistle while Geoffrey himself presented him to the cheering crowd. He felt sick. And just when he thought it would be over, his mother's voice would return inside his head, screaming and crying, and wishing him dead. 

Jonathan awoke to shushed voices passing his door. He got up without a noise and moved swiftly to the door, his recovered ears focusing on the two humans beyond.

"-one more this week."

"And McCullum has no idea where they end up?"

"Trust me, he'll be as surprised as the rest of Priwen. Then it's time for the big reveal and we strike." The voices grew fainter and Jonathan's eyes widened. Barlow's spy? Or rather spies plural? He gripped the door handle just to find the door was locked. He froze, the steps and the voices fading. Had Geoffrey locked him in here...? Why would he do that? And what was Barlow's plan? Jonathan let go of the handle and a panic overcame him. 

He sat down on the mattress again, his eyes falling onto the collar and the muzzle. His beast recoiled at the thought to be prisoned again like that. And he realized he was hungry. So hungry...

Break down the door, find the spies. They'll make for a good meal... The beast taunted him, and Jonathan shook his head. But it wouldn't give up.

You let them treat you like an animal?! Your precious Geoffrey locked you in here! His blood... Oh, once he comes by... Once he will be sweet and close to you, his neck inches from your fangs...

"Shut up!" Jonathan hissed and his claws were drilling holes into the mattress. Then he heard steps approaching and he flinched. He even knew it was Geoffrey before he could smell him. Those heavy steps, confident and wide, it could only be him. And Jonathan closed his eyes when his scent reached his nose. The door handle turned, then a key was inserted from the outside and the next moment Geoffrey entered quickly and closed the door behind him.

"Jon? You alright?" he muttered softly, and his voice did calm him, but his beast was still causing havoc.

"I..." he rasped, his fangs felt heavy in his mouth. 

"You locked me in..." Jonathan looked at the floor, hiding his claws behind his back as he clenched his hands tightly. Geoffrey sat down beside him and he gulped. His gaze wanted to travel up to his neck, but he resisted. So close... His body so warm, his scent so alluring... Jonathan's mouth watered.

"Oh?" Geoffrey sounded surprised.

"I did to prevent others from barging in here, but I placed a key for you on the drawer." 

Jonathan looked up bewildered, but yes, there was indeed a key lying innocently right in front of his nose. Had the hunger clouded his mind so badly? Still... With surprise he felt how it regressed a little. How his beast was soothed by Geoffrey's words, suddenly very small and harmless.

He locked the door to protect you, it purred. 

You must protect him as well.

Find the spies. Kill the spies. Rip them into tiny pieces of meat and tendons, and snap their bones between your claws!

Of course his beast couldn't be wholesome. No, definitely not while he was this hungry.

"Jon?" Geoffrey reached for his hand and the heat of his skin was so captivating Jonathan took a moment to answer.

"S-Sorry. I didn't notice the key. I..." His voice trailed off as his eyes finally fell on Geoffrey's neck. The soft pulsing of arteries... He could hear the blood flowing through his veins... Geoffrey's hand suddenly cramped around his.

"You're hungry," he stated and Jonathan winced.

"Yes." He quickly averted his eyes back to the ground, but Geoffrey didn't distance himself. Neither did he let go of his hand.

"It's alright. I already thought you'd be. So, how about we go out and get you some dinner?" That smile... How could he smile knowing Jonathan craved his blood? His heart fluttered. Geoffrey didn't hate him for his hunger... It was too strange to feel real yet. As he watched his face, he noticed dark rings beneath his usually clear eyes. 

He's not feeling well. You need to make his worries go away. Kill-...

"You'd really... go hunting with me?" Jonathan muttered aghast, ignoring the beast once more, interrupting it in fact, and Geoffrey chuckled.

"I'm a hunter, so yes. And you're looking a little too pale for my liking." He raised his hand to touch his cheek. Jonathan's eyes widened as Geoffrey inched closer.

"I-... I'm sorry, I don't think that's a good idea!" Jonathan whispered shocked as he realized Geoffrey was leaning in to kiss him.

"Oh," Geoffrey drew back flustered.

"Yeah, sorry, got carried away." The blush on his face was endearing.

So sweet... Sweet like his scent. Ask him. He can kiss you if he lets you bite him!

Jonathan tensed up at that very distracting thought. He had to get hunting quickly. And in the secluded alleys of London he'd tell Geoffrey about the spies.

"Do I need to..." Jonathan didn't have to end his question as Geoffrey's gaze followed his to the collar and muzzle still on the floor.

"Ah, no. There's a backdoor that connects to the sewers. Only I have the key."

"What if someone sees us like that?" he asked, but Geoffrey shook his head.

"It's unlikely to encounter anyone else down here. But just in case I'll put out the lantern."

"You... can't see in the dark, can you?" Jonathan wondered with suspicion, but Geoffrey seemed to know what he was implying by the fear that suddenly flashed in his eyes.

"No. No, I can't. But you can and the door is just at the end of the corridor. I'll stick close to you," he smiled nervously, the fear seemingly gone. Still, something was obviously bothering him. The way his eyes flickered uneasily, his hands fidgeting restlessly.

"Geoffrey..." Jonathan muttered as the other blew out the lantern and turned towards the door. His night vision allowed him to see Geoffrey's face even in utter darkness. He carefully took his hand. 

"You look exhausted. Are you feeling alright?" Geoffrey smiled bitterly as he opened the door, his eyes unable to find Jonathan's.

"Let's talk later. Now, lead the way," he mumbled softly and Jonathan obliged. It was difficult to focus with Geoffrey's overwhelming smell this close to him, but his senses calmed down once they were out of the stuffy basement and inside the sewers below the West End.

"Ugh. And there we have proof expensive shit still smells like regular shit," was the mocking remark Geoffrey uttered, pinching his nose. Jonathan rolled his eyes, he had grown so accustomed to the sewers, the stench was nothing more than a nuisance at the back of his head. He noticed with a slight tingle in his stomach that Geoffrey was still holding his hand.

"I hear Skals nearby. Three, no four. We can intercept their way at the next crossing ahead of us," he suggested, his beast already jumping up and down in excitement at the thought of slaughter.

"You know the sewers well..." Geoffrey frowned and let go of Jonathan's hand after all to check his sword.

"Yes..." Jonathan muttered quietly and an awkward silence fell between them. They started moving towards the splitting point of the tunnel, shrieking noises closing in from the distance.

"They sensed us. Draw your sword," he informed Geoffrey who nodded. Jonathan turned to him once more. He didn't want him to see him like that. How he fed on those foul creatures, how he'd tear through them with fangs and claws. But he couldn't ask Geoffrey to look away, could he? Besides, he'd probably seen his fair share of feeding leeches. Still, the very thought made Jonathan feel uncomfortable. It was disgusting and horrifying. He was disgusting, a vile beast. How could Geoffrey ever look at his face again with the desire to kiss him...?

"Jon. Don't worry." Geoffrey's reassuring voice reached him from behind, as if he'd read his mind. Jonathan didn't have time to respond as the first Skal emerged from the darkness and launched itself at him.

Kill. Blood. Drink. 

And the world vanished beyond a red haze as he gave in to the beast breaking through the surface and burying its fangs deep inside the wiry neck. Like bright red glowing dots the Skals seemed to dance around him while Jonathan erased their lights one after another. He didn't even notice the claws dragging across his back, digging into his arms as he gripped their flailing bodies. Blood warmed his dry throat, sating the beast more and more, yet not enough. It didn't take long until there was only one light left. The brightest, purest of them all.

So sweet... So delicious... So pristine and perfect...

Jonathan moved slowly, the warmth of the light drawing him closer almost as if in a trance. Then he realized what the light was. Or rather who. His eyes widened as the red fog around him dissolved and to him came an image that frightened him to the bone. How had the bloodlust taken him so far...? So far that Geoffrey stood across from him now, his face ashen, the tip of his sword pointed at Jonathan's chest. All warmth left him. How could Geoffrey ever trust him again? Why couldn't he control his hunger? Why... Oh why did he have to be a monster?

"Jonathan...?" Geoffrey asked warily, as if he'd noticed his sight had cleared. Maybe he had. Maybe his eyes looked... different when he was hungry. He hated the thought.

"Yes..." Jonathan whispered voicelessly.

"I'm so sorry..." He wanted to cry. Lie down on the floor unmoving, waiting for Geoffrey to shout at him, call him a filthy leech and... and maybe end it all. To his surprise Geoffrey sheathed his sword and made a wide step towards him, causing Jonathan to flinch back.

"Jon, I'm not gonna hurt you," Geoffrey frowned, his voice soft as ever. Jonathan froze, overwhelmed by the situation.

"Are you still hungry?"

"No..." he replied after a while, averting his gaze. It couldn't be real. He'd almost attacked Geoffrey, how could he not hate him...?

"Come here then and let's get out of this awful place." He offered him his hand, but Jonathan could only stare at it. A trick... It had to be a trick... The look on Geoffrey's face was suddenly hurt.

"It's not a trick..." he muttered dejectedly, but did not withdraw his hand. Jonathan realized with a shiver he'd said it out aloud.

"I... I almost-..." He took a step back, desperately wanting to merge with the dark shadows in the corner.

"No!" Geoffrey seemed upset as well when he stepped forward and simply grabbed his bloodstained hand.

"This is my fault as well! I knew you were hungry and I didn't give you enough space!"

"You..." Jonathan could only stare at him. He had to look horrible. His clothes and face covered in blood, his fangs still long and his claws sharp. Yet Geoffrey didn't seem to mind as he intertwined their fingers.

"Besides, you held back all on your own. And as far as I know, that's nearly impossible for a leech. So, you gonna make me endure the smell of the West End sewers any longer?" He raised one brow and Jonathan finally let himself be pulled out of the dark corner.

"Can we... go to the park?" he asked quietly and Geoffrey chuckled against all odds. 

"Romantic, are we? Well, as romantic as it can get with Vulpes howling in the background. That's my memory of the place at least." Jonathan's heart sped up.

"I-... I cleared it out recently. No more Vulpes."

"Then there's nothing to hold us back. Let's get to the exit, there should be a basin where you can wash your face and I can clean my sword. Sounds good?" Geoffrey smiled. He smiled at the bloodied monster in front of him as if he was the fairest and purest being to walk the streets of London.

"Yes," he whispered and let himself be guided by Geoffrey's hand, away from the dark tunnels and his dark thoughts.

Chapter Text

The night was clear and the air crisp when Geoffrey and Jonathan exited the sewers at the West End park. The moon threw its pale light onto the grass and bushes, and a soft breeze blew the few remaining leaves off a tree above them. Yet the bitter cold was unable to pass Geoffrey's skin when his heart was jumping inside his chest and his stomach tingled, taking Jonathan's hand to walk with him.

"It's so peaceful," he muttered, watching the other man's face in the light of a dim street lantern. He looked a lot better than before, healthier, and his shoulders were squared instead of slumped. Jonathan felt comfortable, didn't he? There was no tension in his body, no sign of fear or insecurity. Geoffrey's heart skipped a beat.

Still, it would be a lie to claim he had not been shocked. He had seen Jonathan's grey eyes change into the ones of an animal once he'd tasted the blood of the Skals. Geoffrey only had the chance for one strike at a creature with his sword, before his enemy had been seized by swift and deadly claws, pulled into the darkness. There he'd listened to the sounds of crunching bones and ripping meat, while the pool of blood slowly reached up to his boots. Geoffrey had never seen him feed. He never saw him fight without holding back. And he had to realize that Jonathan had to be far more powerful than he ever anticipated... A ravenous creature of blood and shadow, a being so unfairly strong, a thought had struck him. If Jonathan was not Marshall's prodigy... What was he?

Geoffrey had been afraid. And in a moment of panic he'd raised his blade against the man he trusted. The man he loved. And once Jonathan's eyes cleared, he'd felt like shit. He felt a traitor to the affection he'd shown before. A traitor...

Traitor.
I wish you were born dead.

"Geoffrey?"
Geoffrey flinched when he was pulled out of his derailing thoughts by Jonathan's soft voice. He halted beneath the arching branches of a tree across the path, squeezing Geoffrey's hand.

"You look troubled," Jonathan stated and Geoffrey raised his brows. Had he been so obvious...?

"I'm fine. Still pissed at myself I pointed a weapon at you." Before Jonathan could open his mouth to reply, Geoffrey spoke again.

"And no, don't start this discussion again, I know you want to take the blame. But this is how I feel about it, alright?" he grumbled, causing Jonathan to shut his mouth again and nod instead.

"I can't believe how lucky I am," he hummed to Geoffrey's surprise, and raised their holding hands between them.

"That you accept me despite not being human... After what you witnessed just now. You didn't turn away." He smiled... A smile that took Geoffrey's breath out of his lungs. Especially when those velvety lips grazed the back of his hand in a gentle kiss.

"Y-You!" Geoffrey jumped back startled. He didn't know why, but that gesture had felt overwhelmingly intimate.

"U-Uhm, I'm sorry, I should've asked!" Jonathan immediately panicked, ruffling his hair and looking all flustered. Geoffrey knew he couldn't hide his fierce blush in the darkness anyways, so he closed in on Jonathan to cup his face with his hands.

"You started this, alright?" he grunted, giving him no chance to reply before planting his lips right on cold, but soft ones. Jonathan gasped, but for the first time when kissing he pulled Geoffrey close, his arms wrapping around his back, and elegant hands tightening around the fabric of his coat. It was way too soon that Jonathan broke the innocent touch of lips and let himself slouch in Geoffrey's arms. He suddenly felt like he was holding a really big cat rather than a man.

"I wouldn't know what to do without you," he mumbled into Geoffrey's collar, while Geoffrey started to stroke his back. He realized he was indeed holding a very big clingy cat, when a purring noise resounded from the body in his arms. It made him laugh. Geoffrey would never admit it, but he'd missed the sound. He missed to know that Jonathan was doing alright... That he was feeling like he belonged somewhere.

"I'm honestly sorry, this is so embarrassing!" Jonathan (with the exact same movements as a cat) wriggled himself out of Geoffrey's arms to cover his face with his hands.

"It's cute." Shite. He'd said that out loud. His thoughts had been too loud for his own good.

"C-Cute?" Jonathan stammered, and Geoffrey was at an awkward loss of words himself.

"Y-Yes. Yes, it's fucking cute, alright?" he snapped, causing Jonathan to chuckle lightly. My God, Geoffrey's heart was pumping as if he was running a marathon.

"Come on, I know a nice place to sit and talk." Jonathan reached out with his hand, and Geoffrey took it. Jonathan led the way and they soon reached a secluded spot in the park close to a softly gushing fountain. As they sat down on a bench, Jonathan reached out to touch his cheek with the back of his hand. The purring subsided to Geoffrey's dismay.

"You're way too cold!" Jonathan uttered surprised, and without another word started to unbutton his coat.

"Wha-... No, it's not cold." It was rather cold. And now that the warmth in his chest and stomach had been spent, the night air did indeed seep through his more or less thin clothes.

"Didn't I tell you once to wear gloves? It's winter! And how about a decent sweater?" Jonathan nagged and, before Geoffrey could protest, rid himself of his own coat and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Jon, this is stupid," he complained, but Jonathan made sure to tuck the thick fabric tightly around him, and Geoffrey came to the surprising conclusion that he did not mind at all being taken care of.

"No, you're stupid for risking to catch another cold!" he huffed and Geoffrey rolled his eyes.

"Geoffrey..." Jonathan suddenly sighed worried.

"I... You're not doing alright, are you?" he asked quietly. Geoffrey responded too late.

"I'm fine." Jonathan's hands were on his cheeks the next second, his face just inches away.

"No, you're not. You look so tired... restless. Tell me." Long gentle fingers were combing through his hair, causing Geoffrey to close his eyes. The extra layer of fabric did its job to contain his body heat. He really just wanted to lean into Jonathan and fall asleep, away from his duties and prying eyes.

"I'm fine..." he hummed into Jonathan's coat nonetheless.

"You're stubborn," Jonathan sighed, but it didn't sound impatient. It sounded warm and caring. Geoffrey knew he should finally ask him if he had any results concerning his blood. He really should.

"I..." It's nothing compared to what you go through...

"I'm wrecking my mind over Barlow and his schemes. Most of my men are loyal, yes, but I can't trust the new recruits. Any of them could be Barlow's informant," he grunted instead, noticing to his surprise how Jonathan's body stiffened.

"About that..." he uttered lowly, and Geoffrey opened his eyes again to watch his face turn dark.

"I'm certain I heard two men conversing earlier this evening. About Barlow and a big reveal. And that you had no idea what was going on."
Geoffrey bit his lip at those words. Shite, there went his leadership qualities if he couldn't even patch up a security hole in his own rows.

"They walked past your room?" Geoffrey inquired. Of course. He was so fucking stupid. It all made sense, the power outage, the basement being abandoned... It was fucking perfect for shady meetings and plotting revenge on him.

"Yes. Geoffrey, are you absolutely sure you're the only person with a key to the sewer connection?" Jonathan looked at him sternly and Geoffrey suddenly felt cold again, his drowsiness washed away.

"Very much so. I do have a spare key locked in my desk, but-..."

"Have you checked if it's still there?" Jonathan's eyes were wide and afraid when Geoffrey shook his head.

"Geoffrey, this is it! Barlow's men can infiltrate the theatre at any time! If the spare key is truly gone, who could've taken it?" He had grabbed Geoffrey by the shoulders, while Geoffrey started to frown deeply.

"That's the thing..." he muttered bitterly.

"Only Astrid and Harrison have access to that drawer." Jonathan let go of him. Geoffrey knew what he was thinking. Hell, there was only one thing that came to mind now. Yet he wouldn't believe it. There just was no way. It wasn't worth wrecking his head over it.

"There has to be another explanation."

"I'm sure there is..." Jonathan didn't look convinced and Geoffrey balled his hands into fists. This issue had been going on for way too long. But Astrid and Harrison...?

"I'll track those spies down. I don't think they realized I could hear them, if they had any idea at all I was in the basement with them." As Geoffrey turned to him Jonathan stared into the distance with a faint glare. He carefully reached out to place his hand over his, but Jonathan didn't seem to notice.

"Should I ever meet Barlow again... If he ever dares to hurt you once more..."
Geoffrey's pulse quickened as for a short moment, he saw the beast in Jonathan's eyes, a primal wrath raging beneath the surface and demanding blood. Geoffrey squeezed his hand and that look was gone. Jonathan blinked a little bewildered as if he'd only now returned to reality. Geoffrey wondered sometimes if he'd act or say the same things were he still human.

And then he was asking himself... Would he have fallen in love with the human Jonathan as much as he had for the vampiric one with his pale cold skin, his graceful movements and sharp toothed smile? Did he... like the thought that he was dealing with carnivorous instincts in a human form? A beast that purred when he was close, and showed its fangs when he was in danger? No... he couldn't imagine Jonathan being different from that. He didn't want him to. Geoffrey fell for him the way he was. And he'd come to peace with that at least.

His nightmares, his doubts, the shame and the gnawing feeling of betraying his former self, his life's work... When he looked at Jonathan, he was so sure that happiness was just right there within his grasp. And Geoffrey would be a stupid man not to reach for it.
So he did. Jonathan's eyes widened surprised as Geoffrey pulled him close once more.

"Do you... really want to kiss me again?" Jonathan stuttered aghast as if Geoffrey would in any way be disgusted by that thought.

"You want me to answer that? Fucking hell, there's trouble coming for us miles away, so I'm gonna go for the chance, because there ain't many." He raised one brow, waiting for a consensual response. Jonathan smiled lightly.

"I guess you're right. We deserve a short break." When his eyelids fluttered close and Geoffrey was done admiring his long lashes throwing shadows on his flawless cheeks, he leaned in. As much as he adored the feeling of Jonathan's lips against his, he wanted more. He wanted a tongue to moisten his cracked lips, to enter his mouth and lock them in place for all eternity. A sudden wave of heat gripped Geoffrey as he pushed Jonathan against the backrest of the bench, their chests heaving against one another. His fingers were getting lost in Jonathan's hair, his beard, roaming along his neck to his shoulders, playing with the thought to vanish beneath his bloodied, yet somewhat neat, shirt. But when Geoffrey finally opened his lips, his mind in a haze, Jonathan unexpectedly pushed him back.

"Geoffrey..." He was panting for some reason and Geoffrey could swear his face was flushed.

"I-I... As much as I'd like to french kiss you, I just fed on Skals, this isn't a good idea!" He swallowed and a nervous look passed his face.

"Don't care," Geoffrey grunted, but he didn't push. Jonathan looked utterly disheveled and... his limbs were trembling a little, not in fright or restlessness, but rather... lust? The realization hit Geoffrey as much as it sent a surge of excitement through him. What if Jonathan experienced arousal for the first time as a vampire...? And he seemed to be right by the way Jonathan startet to stammer again.

"Geoffrey, I-... My body feels definitely odd right now... I don't get it, it's like hunger, but-..." He suddenly backed away scared, his eyes wide, and yet trained on Geoffrey's face, his lips, and his neck.

"But not for blood?" Geoffrey asked carefully, his hands yearning to touch him again, but he restrained himself.

"N-No, I don't know-... But it's the same feeling when I'm about to... give in to the beast," he whispered almost unintelligible. Geoffrey knew he couldn't lie to himself as those words sent his blood rushing downwards.

"Jon, we'll figure it out, alright? In time, and somewhere safe and secluded, and only if you're comfortable with it."
Geoffrey's heart pretty much stopped as Jonathan's gaze was painfully slowly drawn to his crotch. God, this was awkward. There was no use in trying to hide his half-hard dick either when Jonathan could simply watch his blood flow. Fucking leech senses...

"Uhm, you're... You're not disgusted by the thought that... When we continue our intimacy, I might-... I might..." Jonathan obviously couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, covering his mouth in embarrassment and turning away.

"No... Not at all," Geoffrey cleared his throat, and the awkward silence did its job to clear any remaining heat between them.

"I'm awfully sorry! I... I don't think I can provide any physical... needs yet," he apologized hectically, but Geoffrey shook his head.

"Jon, it's fine, really. We'll take it slow so you can get used to it. Don't mind me being stupid fucking horny, I can wait."

"Thank you," Jonathan sighed with a long exhale.

"I do feel bad, though. I'll fully understand it if you seek the company of another man who will be able to satisfy you." His eyes were honest, but Geoffrey knew there was only one right response to this.

"Jon." He grabbed both his cheeks.

"It's alright. I'll wait for you. How will I ever be able to enjoy myself with another man, when the perfect one sits right in front of me?" Cheesy. So very cheesy... Geoffrey's insides cringed, but goddamnit, he knew Jonathan was a romantic.

"Don't say that. I'm not perfect, I'm-..."

"To me you are. You're all I'll ever need. And if you'll never want to do anything beyond kissing, I'm fine with that too." To Geoffrey's own surprise it was a sincere answer. Because Jonathan was worth it. He truly was, and that frankly told him a lot about himself. Jonathan's smile was sincere as well, and a little shy. He covered Geoffrey's hand with his own.

"It's so strange... I surely never expected to find a connection like this not in life, but after my death. And despite all... I'm glad I did." He closed his eyes. The way he said the word connection Geoffrey knew he meant something else. Something he didn't dare to say yet.

"You've suffered enough. So I'll be there for you," Geoffrey cleared his throat. God, he was not used to his heart throwing a tantrum in his chest like that.

"You suffer too, Geoffrey. And I made you suffer as well," Jonathan sighed wistfully and Geoffrey tensed when tender fingers settled on the scarred fang marks adorning his neck beneath his scarf.

"It's been a rocky road for sure..." he chuckled, the chill of Jonathan's touch driving away those haunting pictures of their fight in the attic.

"Sorry, my hands are cold!" Jonathan quickly withdrew his arm, but a tingling sensation remained on Geoffrey's skin. He snorted.

"I'm wearing two coats at the moment. You could stick your hand everywhere and I'd enjoy it." Those words paired with a dirty grin caused Jonathan to cover his mouth.

"I... can imagine," he coughed and Geoffrey laughed.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure?" Jonathan raised one brow while Geoffrey looked up to watch a leaf sail to the ground in the wind.

"This beast that takes you over. What is it exactly? I know some Ekons can perceive the presence of their sire. Is it something similar? Just curious." He was a bit afraid it was a sensitive topic, but Jonathan just tilted his head and seemed to think about a coherent answer.

"Hmm, it's rather difficult to explain, but it's more a part of myself than an entity of its own. Well, it's a part of me, but not me if that makes sense." He frowned deeply. That was cute as well. And the thoughtful face was undeniably handsome on top of that.

"How do I put it? The beast is thoughts, mostly. My own thoughts, but I have no idea where they come from and how they could've possibly entered my head," he tried to explain, his hands gesturing wildly. A doctor thing maybe? Or a Jonathan thing? Adorable either way. Shite, he was absolutely lovestruck.

"Like a voice that tells you what to do? A thought that you can hear in your mind?" Geoffrey asked.

"Yes, but more active. Like an instinct. One that takes over my body if I'm not careful enough."

"So the beast is your bloodlust, is that right?" Geoffrey tapped his chin, hoping he didn't go too far. Jonathan hesitated, but he didn't seem bothered by the question.

"Yes and no. A few months ago I'd have said definitely yes, but not anymore. I thought the beast's sole interest to be blood, but-..."

"I think I get it!" Geoffrey sat up straight, grabbing both Jonathan's hands to the latter one's surprise.

"Those territorial instincts you have. The protectiveness, the thoughts you told me about, the purring even... We blamed it on some strange vampire magic, but it was just-..."

"The beast expressing its feelings for you," Jonathan finished his sentence wide eyed.

"The moment I bit you during our fight... in a very abstract and cynic way... it fell in love with you."
There it was. Love. Warmth spread inside Geoffrey.

"And you?" he barely whispered.

"Me...?" Jonathan locked eyes with him before his lips curled into a light smile.

"I know you'll hate me for saying this, but... I guess I started thinking about you the first time we met."
Butterflies were exploding inside Geoffrey's stomach. Jonathan couldn't be serious... The posh and illustrious doctor from the West End, laying his eyes on a rough and scowling Irishman that spat at him during their first meeting...?

"To be fair, the beast took a lot longer. And is still struggling from what I can tell," Jonathan chuckled.

"To be even fairer, it took me way longer than the beast. Heck, I treated you like proper shite!" Geoffrey shook his head in disappointment.

"And look where we're now. Holding hands on a park bench," Jonathan mused nonetheless.

"I would've bet everything against you being into men to be honest," he added cheekily and Geoffrey huffed.

"Yeah, well, worked hard to cover it. You on the other hand make people want to drop their panties left and right."

"W-What?"
My god, he loved the shocked expression on his face. Geoffrey laughed out loudly.

"Or so Talltree told me. Half of the West End is ogling the fancy doctor sweeping gracefully through the city."
Jonathan blinked at him, his eyes surely about to pop out of his head.

"Aren't you one oblivious bastard," Geoffrey snorted.

"A social disaster. Talltree's words," he sighed in defeat.

"Of course the fucker knew I preferred lads. And well..." Geoffrey grinned deviously.

"Beasts too as it seems. Though I'll need to explore that on the way."

"I think you will soon." Jonathan gave him a lopsided smirk.

"Bold." Geoffrey raised his chin. Their eyes met. He realized that he should treasure this moment. Remember every detail as best as he could and store it in the depth of his mind and heart. For he knew it could be the last peace he'd get in a long while.

Chapter Text

"Jon?" Geoffrey asked as he stared into the night above him, counting the many stars.

"Hm?" Jonathan looked down at Geoffrey instead, his head in his lap, his fingers getting lost in his coarse hair. He had something more beautiful than the stars right here with him.

"How long do you think we can slack off like this and not give a shite about anything?" he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest to keep himself warm. Jonathan carefully let his hand pass over his cheek, barely touching, so Geoffrey wouldn't have to feel the coldness.

Forever, he wanted to say, because it was true. If they wanted to, they could run off. Leave everything behind. Leave London and Priwen to their doom, leaving his mother, Clarence, Dorothy Crane, Charlotte... He'd already been leaving them, hadn't he? Jonathan had already fled. 

Why bother about anything else? Geoffrey. Geoffrey is yours. Just Geoffrey... The beast whispered into his ear like a treacherous snake.

"I don't want this moment to end," he sighed wistfully instead. Geoffrey grumbled in response, grabbing Jonathan's timid hand and pressing it down on his cheek with his own.

He doesn't fear the cold, he doesn't fear you! Shall he ever die in your arms there will be a bloodshed the world has never seen before!

"Five more minutes?" Geoffrey suggested peeking up at Jonathan and the latter one snorted.

"Five more minutes then."

"Jon?"

"Yes?" Geoffrey's skin was soft beneath his palm, and as he traced down further he felt the scratchiness of his stubble. He could neither imagine Geoffrey with a full beard, nor without his stubble. The rough look suited him so well, one of the reasons he could barely avert his eyes during their first meeting in Edgar's office. And beneath the hard shell was a man who yearned for his touch, trusted him... and loved... him?

"I'm human, right?"

The question threw Jonathan so off guard he completely forgot about what he'd been thinking just now.

"Be honest." Geoffrey's piercing eyes looked up at him again, and he noticed fear. Jonathan didn't want to see fear... Not in those eyes...

"Geoffrey... You are human."

"Why do my wounds heal so fast, then? And why do I get sunburns?" he muttered quietly. Jonathan sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead.

"I analyzed your blood. I've never seen anything like it before, but your blood and the blood of King Arthur are not competing for your body. It won't turn you, but it remains in your system. You kept your human form, you're not undead, but you have traits that an ordinary human couldn't possibly possess."

Geoffrey nodded thoughtfully, and he didn't seem upset. But he grabbed Jonathan's hand again to place it between his own.

"So, my wounds heal faster and I shouldn't expose my skin to sunlight for too long, that's it? Small price."

That wasn't it. He could see it in Geoffrey's face.

"No night vision? Heightened senses?" Jonathan asked, but Geoffrey shook his head.

"No, but-..." he frowned. Deeply so, and Jonathan didn't like it. Geoffrey had kept quiet about something.

"Tell me if this is concerning, I can eat ordinary food, but I crave nothing more than a barely cooked steak by Harrison when I get up in the evening."

"Is that so?" Jonathan almost sighed in relief. He'd expected something worse. Like signs of mesmerism abilities or perhaps desire for actual blood.

"Yeah... Harrison served it to a couple of lads once and they couldn't even keep it down, so... I guess I'm not getting sick when eating it, although I should."

"Small price, you say? The changes of your metabolism are in fact huge if you can digest food unfit for everyone else."

"Guess so," Geoffrey grimaced, still holding Jonathan's hand, and inspecting it under the moonlight. The warm touches to his palm, the back of his hand and his fingers almost let him sink into a day dream. One where they were both lying in the grass under the stars, their bodies entangled with ever present warmth.

"Well, you have ancient vampiric blood in your veins now. We should be thankful you're not after human blood." If he thought those words would cheer Geoffrey up, he'd thought wrong. Geoffrey paled instead, clutching Jonathan's hand tightly.

"If that should ever happen to me... I don't think I want to live anymore," he whispered aghast and something tightened inside Jonathan's chest.

"This blood in my veins..." he muttered on, then suddenly his eyes snapped to Jonathan's.

"Can't you get it out?"

"What...?" Jonathan blinked at him cluelessly.

"King Arthur's blood! You've got your weird leechy powers, if you bite me and direct his blood out of my system-..."

"No!" Jonathan shouted horrified. Geoffrey looked like he wanted to get up, but he stayed lying in his lap, waiting for his response.

"First of all, I'd never bite you! Never again! And beside that... I don't know if your body can withstand such a change, even if I'm able to extract the blood..." It was an excuse. If he really wanted to, he could do it. And Geoffrey's body was sturdy, his chances were good. But then... One day he'd lose Geoffrey. He'd watch him grow old, and in the blink of an eye, he would be gone.

Jonathan snapped out of it when Geoffrey reached up with his arm to caress his beard.

"I trust you, Jon. You won't let me die."

He should tell him. He should tell him now what else the blood of King Arthur was responsible for.

"Geoffrey-..." Then he heard it. A heartbeat approaching from the other side of the park. Jonathan raked his head to smell the air.

"What's going on?" Geoffrey asked warily and slowly lifted himself up.

"Someone's coming this way," Jonathan frowned. He could tell it was a person he'd met before, but it was too faint to tell who.

"Like, exactly this way?" Geoffrey narrowed his eyes.

"Straight towards us," Jonathan confirmed and now realized it was Louise Teasdale as her shape appeared around the corner.

"Ugh, wasn't looking for more company tonight," Geoffrey groaned.

"Too late to run now," Jonathan muttered as Louise spotted them and hesitated for a moment. Maybe she had recognized his face as he'd turned to Geoffrey, since she then eagerly strode towards them.

"Can't you build a shadow wall around us or something?" Geoffrey hissed, his eyes nearly vanishing behind the collar of his coat. Jonathan almost laughed. The other man looked like an angrily puffed up owl who didn't want to be disturbed in its nest. 

"So what are you two lovebirds doing on my favorite bench?" Louise had reached them and crossed her arms as she stared down on the two.

"What are you saying, lass?!" Geoffrey blew up immediately, but she only rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I wonder, is it the latest fashion to wear two coats at once?" she snorted and Geoffrey started to curse, throwing a glare at Jonathan.

"Well, he was cold, so I offered him mine. I would've done that for anyone," Jonathan cleared his throat. Louise raised one eyebrow and Jonathan tensed up. What if she knew? And not just about their relationship... How far had the news of the Pembroke incident traveled? Was Louise someone who believed the story of the renowned doctor turning into shadows to catch a woman jumping from the rooftop? To his surprise she shrugged, and he imagined Geoffrey hiss again as she simply sat down between them.

"And you're not cold at all, Dr Reid? The temperature is below the freezing point, yet you sit here in the moonlight with your, well, I suppose it used to be white, shirt."

"Oh!" Shit, he'd completely forgotten about the blood stains. How utterly stupid. How on earth should he explain that? Maybe he could make up a story about robbers...? Louise suddenly laughed.

"Don't wreck your head, Doctor, I can almost hear your thoughts. I'm assuming you had dinner just now." Jonathan widened his eyes so much, it almost hurt. She knew. She knew. Everyone probably knew. He could never return to the streets of London.

"Oh relax, you look like I kicked you in the stomach!" She elbowed him in the side, still smiling for some reason.

"H-How...? If you don't mind me asking?" he cleared his throat awkwardly, very much distracted by Geoffrey's gloomy aura, the latter one still sulking wordlessly.

"How I found out? Well, always suspected it to be honest. I mean, you killed the fucking monster that held me captive." 

"Uhh, I fought in the war? People always think I'm utterly helpless as a doctor," Jonathan chuckled nervously, but Louise didn't seem impressed.

"I guess that's your excuse for everything, huh? A little less than fifteen seconds. That's how long it took you to kill him. Thought you were something worse altogether when you appeared in front of my cell. But then you just spoke some reassuring words, took a look at my wounds and led me out of the sewers." It was a strange feeling Jonathan suddenly experienced. He didn't have to hide any longer what he was, and still Louise sat calmly next to him. Did she trust him? Or did she feel like she owed him for saving her?

"You... Do you know anything about the people I'm acquainted with?" he then asked quietly, and Louise watched with a frown before she realized.

"The Pembroke? Yeah, I heard about that as well. Though I can reassure you, the news reached the West End via a drunken Clay Cox. The Pembroke staff itself keeps eerily quiet, but there's a lot of whispering going on in the streets. And I noticed the church being more crowded than usual. Don't know if that has anything to do with you, though."

"How's the Pembroke doing?" Jonathan frowned in concern.

"They're not doing great, but when have they ever? Heard you're sorely missed though. Don't care what people saw or didn't see, I just wish Dr Reid was back, or something similar to that."

"Truly?" 

"Yes, give it time and you might be able to return some day."

"That's great and all, but can you leave us alone now?" Geoffrey grunted from the side.

"No? Like I said, this is my favorite place at night, but you can fuck the Doctor in the bushes over there, I won't mind," she retorted shamelessly.

"Ah, we're not-..."

"Oh, stop pretending," she interrupted Jonathan, rolling her eyes again.

"I do wonder, though, that simpleton who kidnapped me wanted me to be his bride. But can vampires even fuck, Doctor?" Louise tilted her head and Jonathan leaned away, starting to stutter unintelligibly.

"Right, why would I ask you. You would know, wouldn't you?" She turned to Geoffrey instead who withstood her stare.

"No, I wouldn't," he glared. Now they both looked at Jonathan expectantly.

"U-Uhm, well, I mean, I guess it should be possible since vampires are creatures based on blood? I-... I'm just not certain when it comes to supernatural things..." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"What's there not to be certain about? You're a supernatural being in case you haven't noticed..." Louise grinned.

"I just-... haven't had the time yet to... experience this kind of... topic." God, he was feeling uncomfortable. And Geoffrey was no great help in that matter, going from his facial expression, he seemed to enjoy it.

"Still, can't imagine it. Your body is dead, isn't it? How can you possibly get an erection? And what on earth do you ejaculate?" 

"Alright, that's none of your business, lassie," Geoffrey interfered quickly upon seeing Jonathan stuck like a deer in headlights.

"Fine." She stood up and smoothed her winter coat.

"You better sort it out, though, I want answers next time we meet."   

"Guess we'll be looking for another bench then," Geoffrey huffed as an answer and shook his head.

"Yeah, just don't get caught by your guys. Saw them skulking about the sewer entrance recently," Louise shrugged and Jonathan and Geoffrey both froze.

"What?" he repeated sharply and Louise frowned.

"Thought they were part of your gang that's patrolling the streets for these... creatures." She gestured with her hand.

"Had similar clothes at least."

"When did you see them?!" Geoffrey got up from the bench, Jonathan's coat falling to the ground. Louise backed away.

"Just yesterday evening, carrying a couple of huge crates. There were two of them. So I take it they're not your friends?"

"Which direction did they walk?" Jonathan asked as it was dawning on him that the two men Louise had seen might be the ones he'd overheard talking.

"Well, I didn't follow them," she sighed exasperated.

"But probably up north." Jonathan got up and retrieved his coat before putting it on. Geoffrey glared at the ground.

"Thanks, Ms Teasdale. You can have your bench back. We need to take a look," he said and placed a hand on Geoffrey's shoulder.

"Sure. I can survey the sewer entrance if you want."

"No. Those guys are dangerous, don't drag yourself into this mess," Geoffrey objected, but Louise narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm an adult, I can do whatever I want. I come here almost every night anyways," she responded sourly.

"We might not be there to help you," Jonathan added pleadingly, but Louise smiled again.

"Noted. Got a knife."

"Alright then, lass. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Geoffrey sighed and turned to walk off.

"Take care, Ms Teasdale," Jonathan nodded at her.

"Call me Louise, Doctor!" she shouted after him.

"What a chance encounter," Jonathan muttered as he caught up to Geoffrey who marched up to the sewer entrance with a grim face.

"Indeed. If those fuckers were carrying crates, where do you think think they might've gone?"

"A warehouse perhaps?" 

"My thoughts exactly. You don't happen to know one north of the sewers?" Geoffrey turned to him, and his face was hard and cold, his eyes glinting with anger. Their night was over. No more touches, no more romantic words, no more lips on his own. Now they had to face reality.

"Yes," Jonathan responded. 

"At least there used to be when I was a child. It closed down when I was still..."

"So it's abandoned?" Geoffrey asked thankfully so he wouldn't have to finish his sentence.

"Not anymore if Barlow's men frequent it. Are you sure you want to investigate now? What if it's their hideout and we walk right into a trap?" Jonathan wondered in worry, stopping in his tracks, but Geoffrey kept walking.

"Well," he grinned darkly, turning around to him.

"Got London's most dangerous predator on my side, don't I? What's there to fear?"

"Fair point, but don't call me that," Jonathan sighed, leading the way. The more they closed in on the outer streets of the West End, the darker it got. Less and less lanterns illuminated their path, and a thick layer of clouds had covered the moon. Geoffrey blew air into his hands and rubbed them together. Jonathan barely held back to offer him his coat again, but he knew it would just earn him a glare and perhaps a slap.

"That's it?" Geoffrey growled as they halted in front of a run down facility with rusted double doors marking the entrance behind a gate to the yard.

"Are we alone?" he then asked and Jonathan enabled his blood vision, the world around him becoming dark and grey, except for the bright distracting glow of Geoffrey's heart. Before the beast could even dare to utter its opinion, Jonathan snapped back.

"Seems like it. Though the walls are thick, we should be careful."

"Sure, sure. Let me bust open the gate."

"Geoffrey-..." But Geoffrey had already broken into a sprint to throw himself shoulder first into the obstacle. A loud rattling filled the air as he bounced back with a curse, nearly losing his stance, and rubbing his mistreated shoulder.

"Sturdier than it looks..." He seemed to ready himself for a second attempt, but Jonathan grabbed his arm to make him stop.

"You're only going to hurt yourself, the chain around the handles isn't nearly as old as the gate itself. Besides, that wasn't exactly subtle..." He lectured him and Geoffrey crossed his arms in a defying gesture. Jonathan shook his head and stepped forward. He grabbed the massive chain attached to a lock with both hands, twisting it until the iron gave in and presented the now loose ends to Geoffrey with an admittedly smug grin.

"Can you at least make it look difficult?" he groaned, bumping his shoulder, as he went to open the doors. Jonathan dropped the chain amused and followed him inside.

"Can't see a fucking thing..."

"I don't suppose the power's still working, but-..." The light bulbs hanging from the ceiling sizzled as Jonathan pressed the light switch on the wall behind them, and surprisingly lit up the warehouse.

"Now that's interesting." Geoffrey stared at the emptiness before them, abandoned metal shelves, boards and waste adorning the corners of the hall. He then turned to Jonathan.

"Why would you lock an empty warehouse? And make sure it has power on top of that?"

But Jonathan didn't hear his last words as his senses caught onto something. He felt dizzy for a moment.

"Jon? What's-..." Jonathan quickly stepped forward to cover Geoffrey's mouth with his hand.

"There's someone below us," he whispered close to his ear and Geoffrey tensed.

"A heartbeat, weak. And also-..." Jonathan paused. The smell almost got stronger with every second. 

"Blood. Lots of blood."

"Keep it together then." Geoffrey placed both hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes sternly.

"Y-Yes. Yes, sure." Jonathan shook himself.

"There must be a hidden trap door here somewhere. I'm convinced whoever's down there won't make it through the night."

"Right. Either we save a poor fucker's life, or we got one of Barlow's maggots in our hands." Geoffrey strode off and scanned the floor. Jonathan noticed him flinch as he made use of his shadow jump to dash all over the place.

"Found it!" He yelled from a far corner of the hall. Geoffrey hurried over to him.

"Why do I even bother," he grumbled under his breath.

"Listen, Geoffrey. Once I open this, the smell of blood will attract nearly all Skals in the area." Jonathan hesitated as he bent down to grab the handle of the metal hatch.

"I'll handle it," Geoffrey responded, checking his stakes before unsheathing his sword.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Goddamnit!" Geoffrey turned to him with an angry face.

"I'm not some damsel in distress! So you better go down there and save a life. I'll take care of the Skals!" Something in his eyes told Jonathan that he was dead serious. And that he would be in for more than a very sour glare should he reply again.

"Alright." Jonathan nodded, lifting the heavy lid with a jolt. In his eyes the air turned red as the scent of fresh human blood hit him like a gust of wind spreading throughout the entire hall in the cause of seconds. Time stood still.

"Jon!" He almost snarled at Geoffrey when the latter one shook his shoulder. Yet he was pulled back into reality quickly enough.

"Will you manage?" Geoffrey frowned at him and Jonathan swallowed. Yes. He had to. He was a doctor.

"I will," he responded roughly, before descending the ladder into the basement of the warehouse, already sensing the incoming Skals. He could trust Geoffrey. He was a skilled fighter, the leader of Priwen, London's most infamous vampire hunter.

Jonathan had to cover his mouth and nose as he reached the ground of the rather small underground room. A single lightbulb flickered from the ceiling, the walls were crammed with shelves full of crates and boxes. And blood... Lots of blood in buckets, bottles and shining through translucent bags. Deep red and thick and delicious... His eyes fell onto the body with the beating heart right in front of him. A young man strapped to an operation table like the ones Jonathan knew from Pembroke. 

He stared up at him with pure horror in his eyes. Jonathan hated himself for hesitating this long. Especially with the dead body on the table beside the man. The pale, greyish skin of a corpse and a slit throat... still dropping blood into the bucket beneath. Like a pig bleeding out for the butcher to work with. One leg was missing, cleanly chopped off.

"It's alright, I'll help you!" Jonathan moved to the man hastily, who uttered a muffled scream through the gag in his mouth, desperately trying to break free from his constraints. He was weak, but he didn't seem injured. Jonathan could only guess how long he'd been here without food or water. The closer he got to the trapped man the faster his heart started to race, his body turning its remaining strength into adrenaline and pearls of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Jonathan feared he'd have a heart attack once he'd touch him.

His hesitation led to the beast raking its head again. Turning his gaze to the bucket of blood beneath the corpse... Making him inhale the tempting smell...

Dead anyways... You didn't even kill him. Will you let it go to waste? Geoffrey will be in danger alone... What if you're not strong enough to save him...?

Not a second later he heard a battle cry from Geoffrey, paired with the shrieks of Skals launching at him. Then the sound of claws clashing on metal, blood splattering and dying screams of rotten creatures. It was enough to clear his head. Jonathan removed the gag without further ado and worked on the shackles around the man's wrists and ankles. With every time Jonathan's fingers brushed his skin he screamed as if burned alive.

Once he was freed, trembling almost seizure like, he stared at Jonathan with glassy eyes, tears running down his ashen face.

"Please... Just make it quick..." he rasped. Jonathan carefully knelt down beside him.

"I'm a doctor. And I will see to your health," he responded calmly. The noises upstairs grew less frequently. And Geoffrey's heart was still beating with life.

"Y-You're a leech. The blood hound. And your eyes-..." His breathing quickened so extremely, he barely got it under control.

"I know what a starved leech looks like."

"What's your name?" Jonathan asked softly, holding back from reassuringly touching his shoulder like he'd do with a patient.

"Oliver... C-Cliffard..." the man stuttered and Jonathan noticed how young he was. Early to mid twenties perhaps, a shaking boy, terrified to death.

"Listen, Oliver. I will get you out of here safely. Can you stand?"

It took him a while to answer, but Jonathan distinguished a nod from the jerky movements of his body. Suddenly the smell of Geoffrey's blood filled his nose. Oliver screamed again when Jonathan got up quickly. He spared the boy a pitiful glance, slowly raising his hands.

"Don't worry. McCullum is up there, but he needs help. You'll stay here and we get you once the fight is over. Can you do that, Oliver?" he asked and the boy's features seemed to relax slightly at the mention of Geoffrey's name. Jonathan didn't wait for an answer when the smell intensified. Shadows covered him as he climbed up the ladder faster than any human eye could comprehend, finally reaching Geoffrey who cut down the last of the Skals, breathing heavily.

"Geoffrey!" Jonathan caught him as Geoffrey swayed to the side, holding his arm.

"Fucking hell!" he hissed, hitting Jonathan's reaching hands.

"It's nothing! Really, just a small cut!" He grabbed a piece of his shirt and ripped it apart, trying to wrap it around his injured arm.

"Hold still," Jonathan ordered, wrenching the piece of fabric out of Geoffrey's bloodied hand and taking a closer look. To his surprise the beast kept quiet as he inspected the bleeding cut on his upper arm that had split his coat's sleeve.

"I'll take care of it properly once we get back, but it will do for now," he muttered as he tightened the piece of Geoffrey's shirt around his arm to stop the bleeding.

"No need. It'll heal in no time anyways," Geoffrey rolled his eyes, clearly giving his very best to hide the pain.

"Geoffrey!" Jonathan shouted at him, but Geoffrey avoided his gaze.

"I don't know if that's what bothers you, but I don't think you're weak! You just finished off a dozen Skals. So stop rejecting my help!"

There was a thump and a wailing noise from downstairs. 

"Barlow's guy? Or ours?" he asked Jonathan and stepped towards the trap door.

"Ours. Too weak to walk, we'll have to carry him back," Jonathan confirmed and Geoffrey nodded.

"He's scared of me. I think it'll be best if he sees you first."

"Alright. No problem." Geoffrey gritted his teeth in pain as he made his way down the ladder. Jonathan followed shortly after.

"Cliffard!" Geoffrey shouted surprised.

"Jeez, we thought you were gone for good."

"I-... I'm not!" Oliver cried out with teary eyes from the floor, unable to stand up.

"J-... Reid, get him up the ladder," Geoffrey cleared his throat.

"He won't hurt you," he assured the boy, as he looked upon Jonathan fearfully.

"I just want to go home..." he whimpered and shut his eyes tightly. Jonathan lifted him up carefully.

"Let's leave this godforsaken place." Geoffrey turned to the dead body with a mournful look.

"Trent went missing last month. I'll make sure Barlow pays for this." He rammed his fist onto the operation table. Oliver flinched heavily.

"We'll find out what happened. I promise." Jonathan allowed himself a soft glance in Geoffrey's direction. The latter one seemed to calm down slightly.

"Yes. It's time to end this."

Chapter Text

"Well, aren't you a cocky leech!" Geoffrey huffed mockingly as he entered his office just to find Jonathan lounging in his chair at his desk. To avoid complications, Geoffrey had taken it upon himself to deliver Cliffard to the medics while Jonathan had entered his office via the window, unnoticed. He had been assured the boy would recover quickly once given a couple proper meals, and Geoffrey was rather eager to question him the following night.

"Do you have an appointment, good sir?" Jonathan joked, resting his elbows on the desk and raising one eyebrow at Geoffrey who approached him.

"Yes, in fact. I was summoned to satisfy the master of this place. All night long," he grinned back, unbuttoning his coat. Instead of getting flustered, Jonathan chuckled. In the blink of an eye he stood before Geoffrey, shadows still clinging to his form before dissolving into thin air. Geoffrey was very proud of himself to not have flinched at the sudden movement.

"And what do I owe you for the night?" Jonathan hummed, a large gentle hand wandering up from his shoulder to settle on his neck. All alarm bells started ringing in Geoffrey's head. He had not expected Jonathan to flirt back. Not at all. This was definitely new. Still, Geoffrey wouldn't lose this game.

"Hm..." He closed his eyes as he took Jonathan's other hand, raising it to his lips. He felt the man shudder upon the innocent touch.

"Just a kiss," he then smiled cheekily, winding his arms around Jonathan's back. Geoffrey moved closer to him purposefully slowly, stopping as their faces were mere inches apart. Jonathan's hands tightened around him as he breathed in.

"A real kiss," Geoffrey muttered lowly, his chest pressed up to the other man's when he teasingly whispered right into his ear.

"I want your hands, your tongue and even your teeth."
Jonathan's body tensed, his muscles hardened beneath Geoffrey's hands and his chest started heaving. When Geoffrey looked up into his eyes, he shivered. They were dark and hungry. Tainted by lust and an animalistic shine. The quiet growl in his throat was so low and soft, Geoffrey almost missed it. He'd woken up the beast. What the hell was he thinking?

"Geoffrey..." Jonathan then rasped, blinking with what seemed to be great effort, but his pupils remained dilated, and the hand on Geoffrey's back started twitching. The adrenaline did no good but to spur Geoffrey's excitement further. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything at the moment but the man in front of him and how desperately he wanted him.

"Want to continue this in my bedroom?" Geoffrey carefully placed a hand on Jonathan's cheek, his eyelids drooping as he watched him. He knew they wanted to take it slow. But right now... with Jonathan looking at him like this...

"I-... I have no control..." Jonathan shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth. Geoffrey realized with a jumping heart that his fangs were threateningly long and sharp. Was it due to his arousal? Geoffrey couldn't exactly help it as his gaze wandered downwards. And sure enough, the case was closed, vampires seemed to have no issues with getting an erection.

"You want to stop?" Geoffrey asked as Jonathan's entire body started quivering. He didn't want to stop, but if Jonathan wasn't comfortable...

"I'm... I'm so sorry-... But it's too dangerous..." Geoffrey let go and took a step back to give him some space. Still Jonathan's eyes lingered on him as if he wanted nothing more than to devour Geoffrey right on the spot.

"I... I guess I should... leave..." He shook himself and wanted to turn, but Geoffrey was quicker.

"You don't have to, Jon. We can figure this out, together." Jonathan threw him a nervous glance.

"Are you sure?" he murmured quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm horny every time you enter the room, so I'm truly the one who lacks control here. Sit down and take a deep breath." Geoffrey pointed towards his desk, and Jonathan nodded overwhelmed.

"Y-Yes. Can you... talk about something?" he cleared his throat as he sat down again, closing his eyes.

"To distract you from your body part that very much wants to be introduced to me?" Geoffrey still felt in the right place to make a dirty comment. Jonathan sighed, running a hand over his face.

"You noticed?" he groaned, and Geoffrey laughed.

"Didn't even need your blood vision to see that one..."
Jonathan peeked at him through his fingers instead of replying.

"I see you need a change of topic." He started to walk towards the desk, but then stopped in his tracks.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Geoffrey asked and Jonathan quickly averted his gaze.

"I'll... I'll just hold my breath," he responded, his lips tightly shut as he stared at the ceiling. Geoffrey didn't know why, but somehow his heart was racing in his chest at the thought that he seemed so desirable for Jonathan. Before he'd assumed it was always him pushing too far, wanting too much, uncertain whether Jonathan really wanted him too. Now he was sure... Unfortunately he had other things to take care of as well.

"Just taking a look at my drawer," Geoffrey mumbled with a frown, fetching a small key out of his pocket. Unlocking the drawer, he knew what was awaiting him. Still he was disappointed to no end when the sewer key was clearly gone.

"Shite," he cursed under his breath. And since the drawer hadn't been forced open... It had to be either Harrison or Astrid who took the key. An interrogation it was then. Against his own commanders, his two best friends.

"I'm sorry, Geoffrey. But we'll get behind this." Jonathan tried to comfort him as Geoffrey struggled to close the drawer again.

"I don't want to think about it at the moment. I don't want to think about anything." He slumped together and sat down on the floor with his back against the desk.

"Shall I take care of your injury?" Jonathan offered and Geoffrey sighed.

"That's a start I guess. Still... Think you can handle me shirtless?" he chuckled weakly.

"As long as you're a good boy and don't make any moves," Jonathan retorted and got up from Geoffrey's chair.

"Call me a good boy again and I might stake you," Geoffrey snorted, accidentally pulling himself up with his injured arm, causing him to hiss in pain.

"Careful now. Where to?" Jonathan seemed hesitant to touch him yet, but followed him through the room. Geoffrey unlocked the side door of the office leading into his private windowless chamber. He lit an oil lamp and placed it on the nightstand next to his narrow bed. At the other end of the room he had his own personal closet of medical supplies which gained Jonathan's interest in no time. He rummaged through it, picking out a bandage, thread and needle and disinfectant, while Geoffrey got rid of his shirt.

He'd deny that he arched his back on purpose when Jonathan turned around to him, but of course he did. Geoffrey knew after all his body was quite something to look at. In the dim light of the lamp he could see Jonathan's gaze traveling up from his stomach to his chest. And something else.

"You're still hard?!" Geoffrey blurted out with a choked laugh.

"I-... No, I'm not!" Jonathan denied, quickly covering his crotch with one hand.

"Sure," Geoffrey rolled his eyes. Instead of responding Jonathan sat down next to him to focus on the cut on his upper arm. The disinfectant made Geoffrey's eyes water as it burnt its way through the injury.

"I guess you're used to this, but it's going to hurt a bit," Jonathan warned him while he readied the thread.

"Gonna sting me with your needle?" Geoffrey couldn't resist to joke and Jonathan shook his head in disapproval.

"You'll get us in trouble, Geoffrey." The needle effortlessly closed the injury in a matter of minutes. Jonathan reached for the bandage and wrapped it firmly around his arm.

"What if it's a vampire thing?"

"What is?" Jonathan didn't look up, now taking the clip he'd kept between his teeth to fasten the bandage.

"That it's not going away," Geoffrey clarified and Jonathan awkwardly cleared his throat.

"That's not making any sense," he replied quickly.

"Is being a vampire making any sense to you?" Geoffrey deadpanned.

"Touché. I still hope you're wrong, though. Mind you stop staring?" Jonathan scolded him, crossing his legs, which turned out to be only a semi effective maneuver.

"I was just thinking," Geoffrey grinned.

"The lass had a point. What do you ejaculate?"

"Geoffrey, really?! Now?" Jonathan puffed up like it was the biggest scandal of the century. Typical toff.

"It's an opportunity, isn't it? If you're up for it. Just offering you a hand, nothing more," Geoffrey shrugged. It wasn't that big of a deal, not for him at least. It was the bare minimum that would ensue whenever he was lucky enough to encounter a drunken bloke with the same thing in mind. Although that hadn't happened in a long time. And of course it was different.

"It's just..." Jonathan hesitated.

"I've never... been touched by another man," he admitted quietly and Geoffrey's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Never? Not once in your life?" he asked unbelieving.

"Well... I did get caught with another boy long ago, got expelled from school, nothing ever since." Jonathan turned his face away.

"No woman either?"

"No, never. Always knew that." When Geoffrey reached out for a reassuring touch, Jonathan looked at him with a pained expression.

"I had a close friend in university. When I told him how I felt..." He grimaced and it hurt Geoffrey as well to see him that way.

"My father had to pay the police a hefty fine to let it slide. I got out of the situation with a black eye. I figured it was best to leave romantic interests behind for good if I wanted to become a doctor."

"Fuck me, that's some proper shite. Sure, a fancy toff like you can't walk into a shady bar to ask for male company. Not with anyone finding out at some point..." Their shoulders were touching as Geoffrey leant back against the wall.

"You did that?" Jonathan asked him with a curious glance. Geoffrey shrugged.

"Not exactly proud of it, but yeah. Some unhappily married, drinking themselves into oblivion. Others just too drunk to care. A couple of these encounters ended violent as well. And the paranoia was hell on top of that." Geoffrey almost winced at the memory of a man who had seemed willing at first and then tried to smash his head in with a bottle.

"I guess we're really lucky, huh..." Jonathan smiled sadly at him, their fingers intertwining as their hands met on the sheets between them.

"You do realize you died as a virgin?" Geoffrey couldn't help but notice, and Jonathan let out a laugh.

"Luckily I was given another chance to change that," he mused. Good lord, how was he able to flirt like that with zero experience? Geoffrey blamed it on vampiric charme for now.

"Lucky indeed," he grinned, his hand letting go of Jonathan's to hook around the belt loops of his trousers.

"It's fine if you don't want to, Jon," Geoffrey repeated upon Jonathan's nervous gaze.

"No... No, I want to. I think I'll manage, if... if it's not getting too heated?" he tried to explain, and then quickly looked away.

"Also... Is it okay if we... put out the lamp?"

"You're definitely too sweet to be a real vampire," Geoffrey laughed and reached for the oil lamp to blow it out. It was probably better this way. With one sense less he might keep things under control. He wondered though, did Jonathan not want him to see him? Was he that embarrassed?

"It's not fair with your night vision, though," he remarked.

"I'll close my eyes, watching you doing this to me half naked might be fatal in the end..." Jonathan chuckled shyly, suddenly gasping, when Geoffrey placed his hand on the bulge in his pants.

"Relax, Jon. I'll take care of it," he muttered softly, as he nimbly unbuttoned his trousers, slipping one hand beneath the waistband. His fingers followed the trail of black hair from his navel further down, not making their way beneath his shorts yet, but instead massaging the hardened flesh through the fabric for a while. Jonathan started moaning quietly, shaking just barely.

The longer Geoffrey groped him, the more he felt his own arousal spreading inside him. When he couldn't take it anymore, he finally tugged at Jonathan's shorts to pull him out, causing him to catch his breath. Geoffrey carefully curled his hand around him to feel him for the first time, reveling in the small noises Jonathan uttered upon his touch. He came to the exciting conclusion that the other man was not exactly small as he started to stroke him and explore his form. And to his surprise, his skin didn't feel cold. In fact he discovered it to be almost hot instead. That was fairly interesting... Oh, he wished he could see him... Jonathan's face as well... He wished he could kiss him...
The sound of ripping fabric told Geoffrey Jonathan had been holding onto the sheets as if his life depended on it.

"Geoffrey... I'm... I think I'm close," he whimpered, his hips starting to move as well as he bucked into Geoffrey's hand.

"I got you," Geoffrey murmured, tightening his grip, spreading the wetness at the tip with his thumb. Jonathan uttered such a sinful moan, it almost sent him over the edge. He'd take care of himself later, shivers were running through him as a clawed hand grabbed his shoulder quite forcefully to pull him close. The warm erection seemed to twitch beneath Geoffrey's hand, and suddenly there was a low growl in very close proximity to his throat, just the same moment something hot and wet spilled over his hand. Geoffrey felt him soften in his hold after a couple more strokes, but he noticed the same tension in his body from before.

"Jon?" Geoffrey carefully whispered into the dark, but the growling didn't stop. Claws were dancing over Geoffrey's back as he was pulled even closer into Jonathan's lap. At once he felt teeth grazing his neck and he froze. For a split second he expected a bite. Fangs tearing into him, a beast devouring him until he was no more, not even able to defend himself.

But the teeth were gentle. As were the claws on his skin. Geoffrey's eyes widened. He could hear his own heart pulsing wildly in his chest. The growl didn't sound threatening, but it was unlike the purring he was used to. There was a feral tone to it, and at the moment Geoffrey wasn't even sure if Jonathan was quite conscious. Or if he sat in the lap of a bloodthirsty beast showing affection. Either way... Geoffrey was not at all against the thought.

His own hardness was pressed against Jonathan's thigh and he couldn't help but squirm his hips for the friction. He moaned quietly in relief, wrapping his arms around Jonathan's back. The fangs lovingly nibbling the tender skin of his neck sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, and he gasped Jonathan's name when a wet and rough tongue lapped its way up underneath his jaw. Geoffrey held onto him tightly as his motions spiraled out of control. He knew he'd feel awful later for shamelessly humping Jonathan's thigh like a horny teenager, but at the moment his thoughts were a messy mixture of fangs, claws and Jonathan's name. He pressed their chests together as he climaxed, his head resting on Jonathan's shoulder. The growling quieted down, and soft hair tickled Geoffrey's cheek when Jonathan laid his head next to his. The claws vanished from his skin as he gently caressed his back, peppering his neck with soft kisses. Geoffrey closed his eyes. The situation felt so strangely familiar... And then he remembered his dream of the white curtains. It came with a certain satisfaction that he realized he hadn't dreamt it since he'd kissed Jonathan. He didn't need it anymore. He now had everything he desired in his real life. It made him smile.

"You can't seriously tell me you've never tended to a lover before, Jesus fucking Christ..." Geoffrey moaned worn out, and was rewarded with a low chuckle.

"I'm sure you noticed my instincts taking over for me... I'm sorry if I startled you," Jonathan apologized, but Geoffrey shook his head.

"Knew what I was getting into. Fangs and claws included. Wasn't prepared for the beast to be that tame, though," he grinned.

"I'm as surprised as you. Still, I was very close to biting you, I barely held back," Jonathan sighed.

"And sorry, for uh... the bedsheets. I think I tore them apart."
Geoffrey laughed at that.

"I'm sure that was not the last time that happened."

"Do you happen to have any tissues?" Jonathan asked, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Yeah. Uhm, just to be sure, it's not blood, is it?" Geoffrey asked warily.

"Ah, no. Don't worry, it's not," Jonathan assured him.

"Great. Means I can suck you off." Geoffrey flashed him a dirty grin and Jonathan flinched under the suggestion.

"You're horrible!"

"I know." Geoffrey almost knocked over the lamp as he reached for it, letting Jonathan take it from him as he failed to light it in the dark.

"Alright, tissues are in the cupboard, I'm gonna need a new pair of pants. You can either turn around or watch, your choice. Tissue supply is limited, though," he winked at him and got up.

Jonathan could hardly fall asleep once he had returned into his storage room in the basement. He'd almost given in to Geoffrey asking him to stay. To share a bed and fall asleep together... Like a dream come true. But Jonathan chose to stay rational. At some point people would notice him sticking to Geoffrey all the time and besides that... After what they had done he wasn't sure he could resist wanting more. Just because no one got hurt this time around didn't mean that would always be the case. And Jonathan despised losing control like that. Although Geoffrey hadn't seemed to mind... Why, though? Wasn't it... strange? Disgusting? Scary?

He likes it. He wants you to lose control. He wants your fangs and claws, the beast chuckled maliciously. Jonathan shook his head, turning on the mattress. He felt all giddy inside. He wanted more. He wanted so much more. Now. Forever. Closing his eyes, he felt weariness overcome him. They had to take care of Barlow first. That had to be his priority. 

Locate the spies, make them take you to Barlow. Gut him and drink his blood. Job finished and you can have Geoffrey, the beast hissed eagerly. Jonathan hoped it would be that simple. And perhaps a little less brutal, although... gutting Barlow did sound somewhat enticing.

Rip out his heart as well! Crush it with your hand when it stops beating!
That could indeed be arranged. If it came down to it...

How about severing his limbs? One by one... while he's still alive. Jonathan quickly shut off the murderous thoughts, turning to the other side once more.

He was woken up by loud clattering outside of his room. He wasted no time to get up, hesitating as his gaze fell onto the muzzle and collar on the table. It would be unwise to drop the disguise now, so he forced himself to apply them. The remaining orichalcum beneath the collar left a burning sensation on his skin, but he got used to it after a while.

Utterly silent he stalked through the narrow tunnel towards the open room where he'd heard the noise. When he entered what seemed to be a pantry, his gaze fell onto the canned goods on the floor, still being hastily picked up by a much livelier Oliver Cliffard. The boy didn't seem to have noticed him and Jonathan thought about the best way to announce his presence without scaring him to death, when Oliver raised his lamp to stare right into his face. A high pitched scream followed, the lamp was dropped to the ground where it shattered to pieces. At least for Oliver it was now completely dark.

"I'm so sorry! I was still hungry, please don't kill me! I don't taste good, I swear!" he cried out and Jonathan sighed. A strange sound distorted by the muzzle.

"I'm not going to kill you. In fact, you should eat a lot to recover properly," he decided to calmly explain. Oliver's eyes were searching aimlessly in the dark like a trapped animal knowing its life was about to end. Jonathan turned to grab another oil lamp at the top of a shelf behind him.

"Could you hand me your matches?" he asked and Oliver hectically fumbled for them with shaking hands, squeaking when Jonathan reached for the small box and their fingers touched. He ignored the distressed noises and lit the lamp before handing it to Oliver still sitting on the floor. He took it with an unbelieving expression, staring up at Jonathan in something between awe, horror and fear. And perhaps a tad of curiosity?

"Do you need help to stand up?" Jonathan asked when the awkward silence dragged on and the boy still ogled him like he was the eighth world wonder.

"You're... not very leechy," he then said with a frown.

"Thank you?" Jonathan frowned back. Yet he had the feeling the kid started to understand. That he was more than a monster. More than Priwen's tool.

"Has the commander really tamed you?" was the next question and Jonathan cleared his throat.

"Uh..."

"But you wouldn't be wearing a muzzle then. Does that mean you might still bite people?!" Oliver shrieked and scrambled back against the shelf behind him, causing the neatly sorted cans to drop and roll over the ground once more at the impact. Jonathan sighed again, bending down to pick them up.

"So you're under the impression I can't take it off if I wanted to?" he hinted, making Oliver crawl away as he approached to put the cans back.

"Then... I don't understand. Why would you let him do this to you willingly? Why would you work with Priwen in the first place?" He blinked in confusion, the frown on his forehead deepening.

"It's complicated. But I don't really have a choice," Jonathan responded, keeping his distance this time.

"So... you're not going around biting people?"

"No, I'm not." Jonathan felt a little bad for the coldness in his voice, but the kid was somewhat slow on the uptake.

"How? You're a leech! I still don't get it!" Oliver fussed, at least finally getting to his feet.

"You should find something to eat." Jonathan took a closer look at the shelf next to him. Pickles, sausages, corn and beans. He grabbed a jar of sausages and offered it to Oliver, who inched closer warily.

"Take it. I seriously don't bite," Jonathan assured him, and the boy eventually took the jar without dropping it.

"Th-Thank you... sir?" He gaped at Jonathan, seemingly unsure what to call him.

"Dr Reid."

"But you can't be a real doctor!" He could've predicted that reaction for sure.

"I was and I am still."

"You're a weird leech," Oliver stated, rubbing his chin.

"Geoffrey said so too."

"Geoffrey?! You're on first name basis with the commander?!" Oliver shrieked and Jonathan was quick enough to catch the jar of sausages slipping out of his hands.

"Not a word to anyone," he warned him sternly and Oliver gulped, quickly taking the sausages back.

"Or I might bite you after all."

"Yes! Sir, Dr Reid! Not a word!" the boy shouted and straightened up. Then he distracted himself with trying to open the jar.

"But... are you friends with McCullum then? Oh God, he befriended a leech and has to hide it!" Oliver eyed him up and down again, his fingers unsuccessfully wrenching at the lid of the jar.

"Give me that." Jonathan snatched it back without another word, making Oliver jump. He unscrewed it for him and handed it back.

"Oh, finally..." The boy was rather quick to stuff his cheeks.

"So am I right?" he then asked with his mouth full.

"I'm going to ask some questions first." Jonathan crossed his arms, making Oliver tense up.

"Do you remember where and when you were abducted? And most importantly, do you know who was involved? What motives did they have? What is the purpose of the warehouse?"

"Slow down, Dr leech-..., Dr Reid!" Oliver coughed as he swallowed too quickly, backing up slightly.

"I was out on a patrol with two seniors. I didn't know them, so I don't have any names. We went outside, they put a sack over my head and next thing I know I wake up in that horror basement with a dead body next to me."

"He was already dead when you got there?" Jonathan frowned in disbelief.

"No..." Oliver shuddered, his appetite apparently receding.

"But you couldn't quite call it alive either. There was..." The kid seemed to struggle and Jonathan felt guilty for interrogating him like that. There were nicer places and less threatening men than him to have this conversation with. But Geoffrey most likely had his hands full with his commanders and the sewer key, and Jonathan didn't want to miss any possible spy action in the basement. Oliver sat down on the floor again, pressing the half emptied jar to his chest.

"There was a butcher. A huge man, even taller than you and the commander! I... I don't think he was human?" He carefully looked up at Jonathan who sat down across from him. He didn't understand. A vampire...? Where was the connection to Barlow? The description of a large man fitted a Vulkod, though.

"Alright, Oliver-..." Jonathan softened his voice a little to make up for his earlier rather harsh approach, but the boy interrupted him nervously.

"Uhm, sorry, but-... Could you take the muzzle off when you're talking to me? You're scarier with it than without," he muttered nervously.

"Oh... Of course." Jonathan reopened the head straps gladly, and even more so when he realized the boy wanted to see past the facade, past the play that featured him as Priwen's weapon.

"You look like a human!" Oliver blurted surprised, quickly covering his mouth.

"What did you expect?" Jonathan smiled, surely noticing the piercing gaze in search for his fangs. He widened his smile to show his perfectly short canines.

"Uhm, sorry, I guess." The boy averted his gaze.

"Don't be. I'm sure you have every right to hate vampires among all those here who lost their family to them. I understand any hatred towards me."

"That's sad, really. Being a weird leech," Oliver pouted at the floor, starting to munch on a sausage again.

"Yes. But there are people who know who I truly am. I'm sorry to ask again... but you need to tell me more about this butcher." Jonathan changed the topic and as expected Oliver winced. It took him a while to continue.

"His face was covered by a mask, and he wore a white apron, just like a butcher. His hands were the size of car tires," the boy recounted with horror in his eyes.

"The man next to me... A couple of hours before you found me, he slit his throat, but-..." His hands started shaking.

"But not so he'd die immediately. He suffered. He was gurgling and spitting and crying for at least twenty minutes before he finally died. And then the butcher came back. I thought he was going to slaughter me like a pig! But instead he aimed at the dead man's leg with a knife huge as a sword! I was next! I knew I was next! I passed out. And instead you came and got me out." Oliver wiped the sweat off his forehead, squinting at his quivering hand.

"How long were you there?" Jonathan asked calmly, giving the other some time to collect himself.

"How long...? I don't know. I drifted in and out of consciousness. The dead man, Trent, he'd talk to me. Tell me everything would be alright. That he'd buy me a drink once we got out. Why weren't you there sooner?!" Scorn suddenly flashed in his eyes and Jonathan did feel a pang in his chest. Him and Geoffrey should've taken care of the matter earlier. Sure, without Louise, they wouldn't have found the warehouse, but... While him and Geoffrey had been looking at the stars together, an innocent man had been brutally murdered in cold blood.

"I'm sorry. We're working to clear this up. And we need your help to do so," Jonathan apologized, but Oliver avoided his gaze.

"Can you tell me anything else about this butcher? Or the men who betrayed you?"

"I... I can't remember now. I don't know how I'll ever be able to sleep peacefully again. But-... if I met those men again, I'd recognize them."

"That's going to be very helpful. Listen, it's dangerous to wander around alone, especially in the basement. If the spies learn you're alive, they'll try to take you down." Jonathan watched Oliver's eyes widen upon the realization.

"So I'm not even safe here... What am I supposed to do?!" he asked upset.

"I'll take you up to Geoffrey's office. We'll figure out the rest there." Jonathan got up and offered him his hand. Oliver nodded and after some hesitation he let himself be pulled to his feet.

"Do you want anything else to eat? Might be stuck in that office for a while." Jonathan scanned the shelf again, taking another jar of sausages, when a jolt went through him.

"Dr Reid?" Oliver asked warily, his voice pitching as he watched Jonathan frozen in motion.

"That crate..." he muttered, leaving the jar alone and pulling out the wooden object instead.

"Doesn't it look familiar to you?" He showed it to Oliver who inspected it under the lamp.

"It's the same from the warehouse! They were all over the place in that basement!" he exclaimed in shock.

"What on earth is the meaning of this?" Jonathan looked inside, but it was empty. He proceeded to search the other shelves for identical crates, reminding himself to not blink around in the room to avoid startling Oliver. He found three crates in total, all of them empty. Jonathan took a step back, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"So these get moved back and forth between the warehouse and here. Since they're empty someone will come to pick them up, given that the ones responsible weren't informed yet of the warehouse incident. Seems like I must drop by there again," he muttered more to himself, but Oliver turned to him in terror.

"You want to return?! But you rescued me, so they'll know you were there! It's going to be a trap for sure!" He seemed genuinely worried. That was indeed a rare sight for Jonathan.

"I'm a leech. I think I can handle it," he reassured him.

"I'll put the crates back and then we'll take the matter up to Geoffrey."

Chapter Text

"So." Geoffrey crossed his arms with a stern look, sitting behind his desk and eyeing his two commanders stood in front of him.

"We are in a crisis. Which wouldn't be nearly as fatal, if I could rely on the fact that I can trust those by my side." Although he was in a lower position, he stared the two down as hard as he could. Astrid had her eyes set straight to the floor, her body rigid and tense. Harrison was shivering slightly, his gaze nervously flicking up to Geoffrey like trapped prey, fearing what was to come. Geoffrey's stomach sank. He could imagine neither of the two betraying him. But taking the missing key into consideration... He sighed deeply and massaged his temples.

"The spare key to the sewers. I stored it in this very drawer. Barlow's goons use it to infiltrate our headquarters. Which makes me wonder..." Geoffrey got up slowly. Astrid's eyes widened. Harrison shut his tightly. Whatever happened the next moments, whether one of them would confess or run... He wouldn't know what to do.

"Who of you unlocked the drawer and turned it over to Barlow?" His voice was low and quiet, he knew he wouldn't have to shout. Astrid pressed her lips together tightly, then raised her head to say something, but Harrison beat her to it.

"Geoffrey, I'm sorry..." he whimpered and Geoffrey's eyebrows shot up as his and Astrid's gazes were drawn to the shaking man, whose knees started to wobble and then gave in as he slumped to the floor.

"I was told to hide the key under a shelf in the basement pantry! They're watching my sister's place! If I said a word they'd-... I didn't know what to do!" Harrison cried, covering his face with trembling hands, violent sobs rocking his body.

"My God..." Astrid ran a hand through her hair and knelt down next to him. Geoffrey stayed where he was. He'd met his sister a couple times. Her husband hadn't returned from the war and now she relied on her brother to help her and her daughter Lily through these harsh times. A weak point. Perfectly laid out for Barlow on a silver plate. To manipulate someone this high up in Geoffrey's ranks... a child's play. And he hadn't even noticed. For weeks he'd taken Harrison's uneasiness for his usual anxiety. And he'd paid more attention to himself and his feelings for Jonathan, than spare one thought on how his friends were faring. This was his fault again, wasn't it? If he'd just taken half a minute to ask Harrison how he was doing... All of this could've ended differently.

"Please, Geoffrey, forgive me..." Harrison wailed, but Geoffrey couldn't respond. He was the shittiest leader the world had ever seen. He should've known. How on earth could he suspect that one of his closest friends had betrayed him when blackmailing was so obvious...?

"We've got to do something about this." Astrid pulled Harrison up by the arm.

"How well guarded is your sister's house?" Geoffrey finally said something.

"I... I don't know! Five men at least! They're always there, Anna doesn't know what to do! They let me visit her once a week so I can make sure she's alright, but she tells me they keep barging in, sitting down at the dinner table or even going up to Lily's room!"

"So it wouldn't take a second for them to draw their guns as soon as they notice something is off." Astrid glared at the floor, frowning deeply.

"There's just no way... It's over for them..." Tears were rolling over Harrison's red cheeks, having to support himself on the desk to not collapse on the floor again. After a long pause of stifling silence, Geoffrey opened his mouth again. He had to stay calm. For his friend's sake.

"Does Anna know about vampires?" he asked. Confusion flashed over Harrison's face, but Astrid's eyes glinted knowingly.

"Y-Yes...?"

"Thinking about sending our leech boy?" Astrid smirked and Geoffrey nodded slowly.

"He's got the best chances of staying unnoticed. I'm not sure how to convince Anna that he's no threat. At least she won't lose it completely if she's informed about the existence of vampires."

"He would... He would do that for me...? But h-how...?" Harrison's eyes were big and round as he looked up to Geoffrey in despair.

"He's our bloodhound, he's gonna listen to our orders like a good doggy," Astrid grinned, noticing Geoffrey's mild glare upon which she raised a brow.

"I'm certain he will. He wouldn't want innocent people to suffer. I'll fetch him so we can discuss the matter in detail." Geoffrey placed a hand on Harrison's shoulder and to his surprise the other man took it as if holding onto his last hope.

"Geoffrey... This is all my fault. All of our dead and missing recruits... I deserve punishment." His voice quivered, his eyes were distant, but his grip was firm.

"No." Geoffrey shook his head.

"We're in this together. You're my most valuable man, Jasper. I've got you, alright?" He patted his shoulder when Harrison's lanky arms wrapped around him to bury his head against his chest.

"Thank you, Geoffrey," he wept quietly and Geoffrey sighed with a sad smile.

"Everything will be alright, you hear me? We're gonna sort this out." He knew he shouldn't make promises he couldn't keep. By the end of it all, Harrison's sister and niece could end up as cold corpses in a house painted with blood.

Geoffrey ran into Jonathan along the hallway towards the basement, trailing behind was the scrawny boy Oliver, who at least seemed a lot better than the previous night.

"Jon-... Reid!" he corrected himself quickly in the presence of the recruit who glanced back and forth between them curiously.

"Geoffrey, we've got some disturbing news." Jonathan looked at him alarmed and Geoffrey realized a second too late that the other had addressed him by his first name. So much for staying inconspicuous, but they had more pressing matters at hand.

"Same here. The mystery of the missing key is solved, but we gotta act quick." Geoffrey reached out to grab Jonathan by his arm to pull him out of Oliver's hearing distance.

"Barlow's men are targeting Harrison's sister and niece. We'll have to get rid of them before the situation escalates," he muttered. Jonathan's brows shot up.

"Christ! I hope nothing's happened to them already with the ruckus we've caused last night," he grimaced.

"Yeah. We'll go immediately. What's new on your front?" Geoffrey asked, pacing back towards his office again, the other two following him hastily.

"The men who kidnapped Oliver are still bound to be around. He'll recognize them once he sees them. And there's one more thing... The crates from the warehouse... I found them in the basement as well."  
Geoffrey stopped dead in his tracks.

"What?!" he hissed. There was so much going on at the moment he felt a headache creeping up inside his skull.

"I don't know what it means, but I'll take a closer look at the warehouse again. There are just too many unanswered questions. The possible connection to Ascalon bothers me the most. And I can't comprehend the meaning behind the packed blood and meat there. You don't suppose they're feeding Skals?" Jonathan spoke so quickly Geoffrey barely caught up with him. There was no time to process everything before they entered his office again, Astrid and Harrison turning towards them.

"Listen up!" Geoffrey raised his voice and straightened his back. There was no time to get overwhelmed.

"Jon and I will take care of Anna and her daughter. Astrid, there's a plan of tonight's patrol routes on the desk. Take Oliver with you and try to identify the moles as discreetly as possible. Harrison, you're responsible for the headquarters as long as I'm gone. We'll meet back here if everything goes smoothly," he announced harshly.

"All's well and orderly, Geoffrey, but you're aware you're jeopardizing _Jon's_ image by letting him run around without a muzzle?" Astrid crossed her arms defiantly and in a matter of seconds Geoffrey felt his blood pressure rise to the ceiling.

"We've got an emergency, Astrid. Shove your comments up your ass!" he hissed and her right eye twitched, the only hint she barely avoided to flinch like Harrison did.

"So, each to their tasks. How far is it to Anna's?" Geoffrey turned to Harrison, his hand firmly placed on Jonathan's shoulder since the latter one had already tried to back away. He needed him right by his side. And for once Geoffrey wasn't afraid to show it.

There was no plan. Geoffrey had no idea how he had imagined this to end. But it made sense as he looked down at his bloodied hands, shaking under the flickering light of the shabby family home. Deep down he knew... If they wanted to save Anna and her daughter, those men had to die without having the time to pull the trigger. An impossible task. Even for an Ekon. But Jonathan...

Geoffrey didn't look up. He wondered why his ears were ringing until he realized Anna stood right next to him on the blood logged floor, screaming her lungs out.
Jonathan had given him a strange look before he'd simply opened the door to the occupied home.

"They're in the living room. Seven people. Anna and Lily right between them." His gaze was odd... pained and dull. Geoffrey had realized too late it was self loathing. For what Jonathan knew he had to do. For what Geoffrey had deemed impossible.

"Jon, what are you doing..." Geoffrey whispered horrified as he had followed the other inside. Barlow's men had not even a second to startle at the appearance of the vampire, raising out of their chairs and from the couch, drawing their guns... Shadows fleeted from Jonathan's form, spreading through the room like huge tendrils crawling along the floor and walls. The men looked like they wanted to scream as it reached them, drove into them, through them, and caused their hearts to burst one after another.

Geoffrey had never seen anything like it before. He didn't know whether it was their hearts or their flesh that burst. It might've been every artery, every vein in their bodies that had listened to Jonathan's command to betray their corresponding organism and set a violent end to life. The floor was red in a matter of seconds, five bleeding bodies hitting the ground, and in-between the massacre a woman clutching a little girl.

Geoffrey was unable to move. And neither was Jonathan. Not even when Anna picked up a shotgun from one of the dead men and aimed at his heart. Several things happened at once. Jonathan's tortured eyes faced the barrel of the gun as Anna let go of her daughter to pull the trigger. The little girl slipped on the bloodied floor, stumbling over a corpse... and Geoffrey just stood there... Watching in horror how Anna's finger moved, how a deafening shot echoed through the room. Jonathan's yell as he was hit and hauled against the wall with an ugly cracking sound. Metal hitting metal as the lead from the shell spread, bouncing off the kettle in the kitchen.

Two screams in short succession erupted. Lily cried out as a rebound splinter bore itself into her arm, then her mother dropping the gun in horror and collapsing next to her daughter. Geoffrey's legs moved on their own. But not to them... No... they carried him to the man on the floor coughing blood. Geoffrey's trembling fingers touched his torn open chest. His mouth felt dry.

"Don't... I'll be fine... The girl!" Jonathan rasped, pushing himself up with a hiss. Geoffrey's mouth still wouldn't open.

"Don't come any closer!!" Anna screeched in horror, her voice breaking and her eyes ripped open wide upon seeing Jonathan approaching on shaking legs. She held her crying daughter, dark blood pooling from her arm.

"He's a doctor. He can help," Geoffrey finally said, but his words were too quiet.

"Please! Let me remove the splinter! Your daughter's life depends on it!" Jonathan pleaded, bloodied hands clumsily digging through his coat.

"Geoffrey!" Anna stared right at him.

"Kill it! Now!" she cried, desperately trying to carry Lily away from Jonathan, but her legs gave in beneath her.

"Anna, listen! We came to help, he's with me!" Geoffrey struggled to find the strength back he'd been missing the last couple of minutes. He was ashamed of himself. He could've done something... anything...

"No! That thing is a monster! Get it away from Lily!" Anna screamed at the top of her lungs. Jonathan had retrieved a set of pliers and bandages from his pockets, trying to gain control over his shaking fingers.

"Do you want your daughter to die?!" Geoffrey roared back at her, noticing the glassy look in the small girl's eyes. Anna didn't respond. Instead she yelled and spat, kicking and clawing at Jonathan as he carefully tried to close the distance once more.

"Geoffrey!" He turned to him and Geoffrey knew what to do. In a quick few steps he seized Anna by the arm, fingernails immediately digging into his skin, drawing blood. He took a punch to the side, a kick to the shin, but finally managed to hold her wrists in a vice grip. It felt so awful Geoffrey wanted to throw up. To make a mother watch how her child lay motionless on the ground, unable to do anything but observe how Jonathan knelt down next to her.

"Geoffrey! Why are you doing this?!" Anna screamed and sobbed, Geoffrey gritted his teeth as he received more and more violent kicks. His grip started to slip. He didn't want to do this. Blood from the ground sloshed towards the direction of Jonathan cowering before the small girl as Anna kept on struggling relentlessly.

"Geoffrey!" Jonathan shouted alarmed, quickly freezing the blood mid-air and redirecting it away from them. Geoffrey saw the wild terror in his eyes, deep black pits of pain begging him. Geoffrey shut his eyes tightly as he locked one arm around Anna's neck. Then he squeezed. His eyes stayed closed, listening to the woman gasping for air, gurgling and retching, until all tension left her body and she slumped in Geoffrey's arms. His eyes burned as he opened them again. Why did everything feel... so wrong? He watched Jonathan holding his own wrist in a tight grip to stabilize the plier's movement. Geoffrey's heart raced painfully inside his chest. The girl's form was coated in blood as Jonathan had finally removed the splinter and quickly fumbled with the bandages, trying not to get any blood on them. Now that Anna was quiet, Geoffrey could hear his lacerated lungs rattling, the deep growling at the back of Jonathan's throat. More and more blood seeping from his chest to the wet floor. With every movement of his, shadows seemed to escape from his body, claws nearly shredded open the freshly applied bandage on Lily's arm, and Geoffrey stared into those black eyes again when Jonathan turned to him. 

"I need to get out of here," he cried out hoarsely, but Geoffrey couldn't move. Everything felt wrong. He'd known Jonathan was no ordinary Ekon. Still... He was so much more. So much more blood and darkness. Something primal created by hate and hunger. Something that could destroy London overnight. Something that could never be stopped once the darkness broke free. 
Without waiting for an answer, Jonathan scrambled past him and out of the front door in a rush of shadows. Anna felt heavy in Geoffrey's arms. And the longer he looked at the little girl in the middle of the slaughter, the more his head started to hurt.

The wind of the late autumn night was cold and cruel as Oliver followed the tall woman, McCullum's third in command, through the abandoned alleyways. His insides clenched the farther they strayed from the warm safety of the theater. A strange feeling, it bothered him more to be away from the weird leech doctor, than being close to him. He had saved him after all, hadn't he...
He'd thought all leeches to be vile and evil beasts. An image hammered into his mind ever since his parents' gruesome death. But the leech doctor- Dr Reid... There was something about him. Something human. Something that even the commander had seen. Oliver wondered what their story was about. For all he knew Dr Reid had been Priwen's arch enemy since he first turned up in the streets of London. What might've happened between them that the vampire's eyes had softened when he spoke of McCullum? Oliver would perhaps never understand. If Dr Reid would mind talking to him again? He'd been rather rude after all. Still, a friendly leech who refused to bite him and had the patience to deal with his curiosity? Oliver had so many questions...

"Come along, Cliffard. No dallying around." The woman turned to him, waiting for him to catch up. Instead of a reply, Oliver pursed his lips. Of course he had no idea about the patrol routes, but it stroke him as odd that they hadn't encountered anyone so far. The paths they took through the district were rather specific. Was there a special meeting point for all the patrols? Oliver trotted along doubtfully, his stomach felt heavy as a stone. Under a street lantern in the distance he could make out two figures. They seemed to be waiting. Oliver stopped dead in his tracks.

"Cliffard!" Astrid sighed, walking up to him and grabbing him by the arm. Oliver stumbled over the pavement as he was dragged along. He still had hope. That he maybe wouldn't recognize the faces. Or that Astrid would draw her gun to take the men into custody. But then why...? Why did it feel like he was walking towards his end? Why did he suddenly wish for the commander and the leech doctor to be here by his side? Astrid's fingers tightened around his arm. Oliver was neither the strongest, nor the tallest amongst his age. Quite contrarily so. But he was fast. And he always knew when he was supposed to run. 
He inwardly counted to three. Then he gritted his teeth and with a quick twist of his wrist he untangled himself from her grip. The muscles in his legs spasmed as Oliver broke into a wild sprint back where they came from. Maybe... Maybe he could reach the theater with a headstart. Maybe they weren't as fast as him. 

A gunshot resounded through the air and Oliver knew, even before the bullet hit him, that it was over. His fate had been doomed ever since he'd left McCullum's office.

Geoffrey found Jonathan by the docks a couple of hours before sunrise. He sat at the edge of the water, staring out into the foggy distance beyond the river. This was Jonathan. His Jonathan. Geoffrey tried to ban the images out of his head, the tendrils of shadow, the bursting bodies.

"How are they doing?" Jonathan asked quietly before Geoffrey sat down next to him. He had washed himself clean of any blood, his hair still dripping water, his hands shining wet.
"The girl will make it according to the medics. Harrison is taking care of Anna."

"I'm sorry I left you alone in this mess..." The vampire let out a shaky breath and finally turned to face Geoffrey.

"No, it's alright. Blood everywhere, you were injured and-..."

"Why are you looking at me like this?" Jonathan interrupted him and Geoffrey froze mid-sentence. How was he looking at Jonathan? He didn't know. He knew that his hands were clammy for some reason, he knew that his heart was pounding. But why?

"You're scared..." Jonathan finally muttered and Geoffrey could see his own fear in those pale blue eyes. 

"No, Jon-..." He was scared. Geoffrey breathed in with a hiss. He was scared. Of the man he loved. Jonathan slowly reached with his hand for him, and Geoffrey flinched back without any control over his movements. One look at him assured Geoffrey, that this reaction had hurt more than the shotgun shell to his chest. He swallowed hard. Then he grabbed Jonathan's cold hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I need to know what you are, Jon. I need to understand everything of you. I want to understand everything." His words were met with silence as Jonathan gazed into the water below them. If only Geoffrey could know what went on inside his head at the moment. What he was supposed to do. What he could do to close the rift that tore open between them the moment they had entered the house. Geoffrey squeezed his hand once more and Jonathan opened his mouth.

"Does the name Myrddin Wyllt mean anything to you?" 
Geoffrey's heart stuttered in his chest.

"Merlin?" he whispered with a frown. Was Jonathan telling him that-...

"He is my maker." For a moment he held Geoffrey's wide eyed gaze. Then his eyes drifted back to the blackness beneath them.

"What happened earlier... I didn't know myself I could do such a thing. I just felt it. I can't blame you for being scared, Geoffrey. I am scared myself." He tried to remove his hand from Geoffrey's, but the latter one only tightened his grasp.

"You did what was necessary," he replied.

"And look how that turned out..." Jonathan threw him a horrified glance.

"They're both alive. That's what matters." Geoffrey replied agitated, reaching for Jonathan's chin to make him look at him. Jonathan shut his eyes at first. Geoffrey remembered to have held him like this in the attic, and in the abandoned house when he was immobilized by the Vulkod injury. But now they weren't enemies any longer. And Geoffrey wouldn't take it if they ever became enemies again.

"Look at me, Jon!" Geoffrey let his hand graze softly over his cheek.

"Look at me. I won't let the fear be stronger than us." When Jonathan finally opened his eyes, there was no bottomless black pit, no darkness so deep it could swallow the world whole. Just Jonathan. The sad doctor from the West End. Not something that was the prodigy of a demi-god.

"I was always afraid to tell you. You were the only one who never feared me..." Jonathan raised one shaking hand, placing it over Geoffrey's still on his cheek.

"Let's get you home, Jon. You need to rest." Geoffrey let his hand glide through Jonathan's wet hair, before he grabbed him by the arm to pull him up. There was a short moment where he could've kissed him. A small window of time that opened for him. But Geoffrey had missed it. They were standing beneath a street light at the docks, Skals screeching in the distance as the wind picked up. Whatever this was, they had to fix it later. Sit down on Geoffrey's bed, talk about it, fight it off in each other's embrace. But right now there was Barlow. And with him still in the game, neither of them would find any rest.

Chapter Text

Jonathan walked silently by Geoffrey's side. Something was broken between them, he knew the moment he'd stared into Geoffrey's eyes after the slaughter. He had broken something. His left hand twitched. Right now Geoffrey made an effort to pretend nothing had happened. As if he hadn't witnessed Jonathan's full capabilities. Yet his heart rate was accelerated, and his jaw tense under the dim lights.

Fear... So much fear...
Even Geoffrey fears you now.

Jonathan shook his head. He could fix this. He had to fix this. And he trusted Geoffrey.

"Remarkable..." It was quiet, but he still heard Geoffrey muttering to himself.

"Myrddin Wyllt... Thought the brotherhood made it all up..." He stared hard at the pavement before throwing a glance towards Jonathan. Then he wheezed out a chuckle and shook his head.

"To think I attempted to best you... Jesus Christ, you probably are the sole unchallenged predator walking this entire continent..."

"Well..." Jonathan carefully raised his hand to scratch the back of his head.

"I didn't choose to be, did I?" He offered an innocent smile. One that Geoffrey returned. Jonathan's beast raked its head, readying itself for a purr. Jonathan pushed it back down.

"Suppose not. Actually I think we can be glad it's you and not someone like Cox or Barlow," Geoffrey grimaced with a sigh.

"True enough, though... You could've been with the human me then." Keeping the smile up suddenly became a hard task. But then Geoffrey reached out to tug at his sleeve.

"I don't need to be with the human you." He stopped walking and Jonathan turned to look at him in wonder.

"I fell for you, Jon. And it doesn't matter to me what you are. It matters who you are." He gazed into honest blue eyes, clear and deep like the sea. Jonathan's knees felt very soft for some reason as Geoffrey intertwined their fingers. His internal struggle with the beast continued, but soon he gave in. Geoffrey let out a laugh as he noticed the purring sound escaping Jonathan's throat.

"I guess you can call me the beast tamer, huh?" he grinned and Jonathan was rather glad he was unable to blush. He lifted one hand to cup Geoffrey's cheek. But before his fingers could so much as graze the stubble on his chin, he jerked back. Geoffrey's eyes widened.

"Someone is close..." Jonathan whispered, extending his senses. Geoffrey quickly let go of him with a sour expression.

"Someone familiar?" he asked, one hand already reaching for his sword.

"Yes... I think it's Astrid..." Jonathan muttered in confusion and Geoffrey's brows shot up.

"She's supposed to be with Cliffard. There are no patrols out here. Are you sure?" he frowned, intensely eyeing the dark alleyways opening up away from the waterside. But not even Jonathan could see her, just sense her presence at the edge of his perception, hear her heart beat in a slow and steady rhythm. Then he suddenly smelled blood. The heartbeat was accelerating.

"She's hurt. We should hurry," he informed Geoffrey, before quickly marching towards the closest alleyway. Geoffrey followed close behind, cursing quietly to himself.

"Is she under attack?" he asked hastily, but Jonathan shook his head, passing a rundown entryway to one of the many abandoned cottages.

"There's no one else. I'm not sure why-..."

"Astrid!" Geoffrey overtook him as the outline of a figure became visible in the foggy courtyard of a housing block. It was for a split moment that Jonathan saw her expression. Eyes widened in horror and a spiking panic in her hard features, before she quickly covered it with her usual mask of calculating coldness. Had Geoffrey seen it too?

"Jon noticed you're injured. What happened?" Geoffrey didn't leave her any time to respond as he already grabbed her by the arm. She gritted her teeth, quickly pulling away from him.

"I'm fine, just a graze shot. You squeezed the wound!" Astrid scolded him. Blood oozed from under her jacket, covering her wrist and dripping to the floor.

"You need that bandaged. Let me help." Jonathan opened his coat, but Astrid stepped back.

"Thanks, I'll handle it myself, leech boy." She looked at him in disgust. Jonathan sighed. He'd never warm up with Astrid, he knew that much, but he'd never cease trying to make a peace offer. Though he also knew that right now, something was off. Was it the blown pupils? The fast pulse, the fresh wound?

"Astrid, what the hell happened? Why are you here and where's Cliffard?!" Geoffrey barked out upset, causing her to avert her eyes. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke.

"He's dead. Skal food by now. Barlow's goons ambushed us and I fucking failed to save him, alright?! I'm fucking sorry!" Astrid yelled and it was a rare moment where Jonathan spotted genuine emotions in her face. At the same time his heart sank inside his chest. He saw Oliver's curious eyes in front of him. So much hope... Just having barely escaped death and now he was rotting in the streets. The boy deserved better.

"Shit!" Geoffrey ran a hand over his face, before turning back to her.

"Listen, Astrid, it's not your fault." He reached out to reassuringly tap her shoulder. She hesitantly leaned into the touch. Jonathan felt something curl inside his stomach when his eyes met hers. The beast almost forced a hiss to surface.

"It is my fault. I wasn't careful enough, they knew we were coming and I had to make a run for it," she sighed exasperated, still holding her injured arm and kicking at the dust on the ground.

"You weren't running."
Only when Jonathan noticed the two pairs of eyes set straight at him, he realized he'd mouthed his bewilderment out loud.

"Jon?" Geoffrey frowned at him, his hand staying on Astrid's shoulder.

"I sensed you. And I only perceived your blood after you entered this yard." Jonathan straightened up, his eyes not leaving her tense figure. Something was off. He'd known it.

"I was on my way back to the theater, genius! And the wound just reopened, that's when your leechy instincts caught onto me." Astrid's nostrils flared as she glowered viciously at him, while Geoffrey's gaze wandered back and forth between them indecisively.

"Show me the wound then. I'll bandage it and all of us return to the theater," Jonathan offered once more, but Astrid let out a cold laugh.

"I'd rather die than being touched by a fucking animal!" She spat on the ground and Geoffrey let go of her as if he'd suddenly burned himself.

"Astrid, for fuck's sake, be reasonable! You'll only lose more blood!"

"Well, in contrary to you, Geoffrey, I'd cut off his fucking head if he even laid a finger on me!" Astrid turned away with a sway of her disheveled hair, walking off in wide steps.

"God damnit, what's your problem!? At least let me bandage it then!" Geoffrey shouted after her, trying to catch her by her jacket, but she shrugged him off.

"I'll let the medics see to that, thank you very much. Why don't you enjoy the starry night with your lethal pet? Meet you in your office later."

"Fucking hell!" Clutching his fists Geoffrey turned back to Jonathan with a heavy scowl. Jonathan watched the hunter carefully. He still wasn't quite sure how close Geoffrey was to Astrid. How much it would hurt him if they uncovered her lie.

"She's hiding something," Jonathan muttered, and according to his expectation Geoffrey pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Why would she? She's just completely stressed out. Understandably so, I feel like utter shite whenever someone dies on my watch. Poor kid..." he growled, turning his head away. Jonathan held back the words he'd gathered inside his head. That he didn't trust Astrid. That he didn't like her and now that she had done something suspicious, he was actually glad. But for Geoffrey... What if he refused to understand? Jonathan had a feeling he'd reject any accusations.

"I'm fucking starving, let's get back," Geoffrey grumbled defeated, jutting his hands inside his pockets, leaving no invitation for Jonathan to take his hand again. The night wind suddenly felt a lot colder than before.

Thick grey clouds had covered the stars once they reached the theater. Geoffrey entered through the main entrance, while Jonathan slipped through an open window into the abandoned kitchens on the ground floor.

"What are you planning to do?" Jonathan asked quietly, standing somewhat awkwardly in the corner while Geoffrey slammed the freezer box shut.

"Maybe give up my fucking post due to incompetence, what do I know," Geoffrey hissed with his back turned to him as he dropped something into a pan. The moment Jonathan heard those words he realized Geoffrey was blaming himself for Oliver's death, rather than Astrid. He carried so much weight on his shoulder already... Jonathan carefully closed in on his... Well, what exactly was Geoffrey to him right now? His lover? His partner? Or simply his hunter? His insides felt warm thinking of Geoffrey connected to those words. Geoffrey's figure was rigid when Jonathan placed both his hands on his shoulders. He wanted to say something, anything, but his voice got stuck in his throat when the smell of burnt human meat reached his nose.

"Geoffrey..."
Geoffrey noticed how Jonathan's fingers tightened around his shoulder bones. So much that it started to hurt...

"This is human meat."
Geoffrey froze in his movements, failing to process the sentence Jonathan had just uttered in a shaky, but clear voice. This is human meat. He stared at the steak inside the pan, the quiet sizzling of the oil turning unbearably loud. He still didn't get it.

"What... are you talking about..." he murmured very slowly, suddenly wondering if Jonathan had come up with a sick joke. His hurting shoulders said otherwise.
As if he'd been struck by lightning, Geoffrey jumped back, dropping the spatula. He startled Jonathan in the process, who was veiled in shadows for a quick moment before reappearing next to Geoffrey.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Geoffrey repeated his question louder, looking into wide, scared eyes. Funny... How this being made of blood and strength could possibly show fear. This being? Had Geoffrey lost his mind to have thoughts like that about the sweetest man he'd met in his entire life? This is human meat. Everything inside Geoffrey's head turned into a screaming blur.

"The crates in the basement..." Jonathan's eyes were still too wide.

"The same in the warehouse. It's the meat..." His voice was so faint, Geoffrey had trouble listening, understanding even more so.

"No." He took another step back with a pressured laugh. A cold panic erupted inside him like waves crashing against solid rock. Geoffrey shook his head, but the waves wouldn't stop.

"How long have you been eating this...?" Jonathan's question was anything but helpful at the moment. Geoffrey slapped his face with his hands repeatedly. He had been eating human meat. All this time. And not just any meat. A picture rose to his mind of Trent's cut up corpse inside the warehouse. His throat closed up. He continued slapping until he couldn't feel anything.

"Geoffrey, look at me. You have to stay calm now." A cold hand took him by the arm. Calm down. Jonathan had to be joking. How could he possibly understand...? Geoffrey freed himself and turned away without another word. He had to be alone. Right now. Before he broke something that couldn't be fixed.

"Please, Geoffrey! We need to talk!" Jonathan made another attempt to grab him, but this time Geoffrey pushed him back forcefully.

"Don't touch me, damn it!" he snarled and Jonathan backed away with a hurt look. Why couldn't he understand?! Geoffrey didn't want to snap. Not here, not now. He wanted to thrash his office, the basement maybe. Everything, maybe. But not Jonathan.

"This is Barlow's work! I'm convinced he's working with Ascalon to play this sick game! I understand how you feel, Geoffrey!" Why couldn't he shut up? Oh why did he have to keep talking?

"You understand?!" Geoffrey turned back so quickly it almost gave him a whiplash. He could hear his heart beating hard in the back of his skull.

"You understand nothing, Jon! Nothing! How it feels to become what you hated your entire life!" he roared, thrusting his index finger into Jonathan's chest.

"You're not turning into a vampire, Geoffrey! If I had known about your change of diet-..." Jonathan moved up his hands in defense and all hinges holding Geoffrey's tongue in place got loose at once.

"You fucking researched my blood! You should've known!"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't know!" Jonathan raised his voice as well, booming through the room.

"You could've told me... You could've told me I'd turn into a fucking man-eating monster!" Geoffrey shouted, knocking Jonathan back with his arm once again. Why wasn't he fighting back? Why didn't he show some of that strength he'd so generously displayed earlier this night? Was it because he thought Geoffrey fragile? Weak? Like he had to be handled with silk gloves?

"And I swear to you, Geoffrey, you're not turning! We will find a solution, but you need to calm down first!" He grabbed Geoffrey's attacking hand to hold it in an iron grip.

"No! It doesn't matter anyways! Why can't you see it, Jon?! I can't be like this! I can't be this vile... thing feeding on humans like a fucking beast and still pretend to be human!" Geoffrey's voice broke and Jonathan let go of him in an instant. It was quiet for a stretching moment before Geoffrey realized what he'd said. He'd realized and he didn't care. It felt like someone else was living inside his head.

"Am I... Am I this thing to you?" Jonathan's eyes were set hard on the floor and Geoffrey was glad for that. He feared that he wouldn't feel anything if he looked into his sad grey orbs in this moment. Bitter rage was slowly rising inside Geoffrey's chest. It was too late, he'd wanted to get away, but now he had to unload all of it. Unto Jonathan of all people... He wanted to be alone so badly. And now he wanted to hurt Jonathan as much as he'd been hurt.

"You're a leech. You're not intended by nature. However hard you try to be human, you will never be," Geoffrey muttered lowly and Jonathan sucked in a sharp breath. Why did those words feel like a Deja Vu? Why didn't it feel like an eternity anymore when he'd hated Jonathan for what he was? Right now Geoffrey hated everything. Himself, Jonathan, Barlow, Ascalon, the blood in his veins, the meat in the pan. His worst nightmare had come true. He realized he had to find a way to end it. To end it all. There was no reason to care anymore.
Jonathan.
Jonathan was his reason, wasn't he? Had been this entire time. But now... Facing the truth, reality, the meat... How could he possibly go on...?

"So you lied to me...?" Jonathan's shoulders were drawn in, his body quivering. Was he angry? He had never seen Jonathan furious with him. Never had he taken anything personal that Geoffrey had thrown at his head. His wish to make peace had always been his first priority.

"When you said you didn't care what I was?"

"I lied to you and to myself." Geoffrey watched how Jonathan's face hardened. If only he'd lash out... If only he'd hurt Geoffrey back.

"How could I ever love something that's not human," he murmured monotonously and Jonathan took his hand once more. His grip tightened so much, it felt like his finger bones were about to give in any second.

"You don't mean that!" Jonathan rasped, shaking his head repeatedly.

"Our deal is over, Jon."

"Deal? What Deal?!" The growl that left Jonathan's throat assured Geoffrey he was pushing him closer to the edge.

"Your existence has no purpose anymore, remember? You can't return to the Pembroke. You can do no more good. Now I'll be as kind to give you the chance to piss off." Geoffrey lifted his head, finally meeting Jonathan's irritated gaze. He couldn't care less. Everything... seemed so pointless.

"You're not yourself right now! Geoffrey, snap out of it, for God's sake!"

"Let go of me. It doesn't matter anymore. I just need this to end." Geoffrey shrugged, attempting to tug his hand free, but Jonathan didn't budge.

"Let go." Geoffrey stared at him long and hard. Diving deep into darkened eyes and distorted features.

"No!" Jonathan hissed, baring his fangs. Geoffrey chuckled coldly.

"I don't care either way. Then how about you end it? Saves me some work."

"Geoffrey, what on earth are you on about?!" Geoffrey couldn't lift his eyes off the fangs. Why not? Did it matter in the end how he would leave this place? There was no heaven for him. No white curtains. Nothing but disgust and regret.

"I told you. I won't live like this. So do me the favor and be a proper leech for once."

"You want to give up just like that?! You want to let them win?! Wake up, Geoffrey!" Jonathan grabbed him by the shoulder with his other hand to shake him violently.

"Call it what you want. But either leave or end the life of whatever creature I have become." He was growing tired. Oh, so tired of the hands he loved, the face he marveled, the voice he adored.

"I will do neither," Jonathan snarled lowly, cold hands slowly crawling up Geoffrey's neck to settle on his cheeks.

"Don't you see? I will never let you go, never! I'm not mad at you because you're trying to hurt me, I'm mad because you want to give up! And in contrary to what you might believe, I never considered you weak, Geoffrey! But right now... This is pathetic." Jonathan's voice had started to sound different. Throaty and ragged, echoing strangely. Geoffrey realized the beast was speaking along.

"And what are you then? Clinging onto me this desperately..." Geoffrey narrowed his eyes, vigorously peeling Jonathan's hands off his face. He'd had enough of this back and forth.

"You think you can escape everything by wanting to end your life?! Honestly..." Jonathan suddenly straightened up, taking a step back. Geoffrey had done it. Jonathan was seething. But not in the way he'd anticipated. No, he was staring down at him coldly instead.

"If you're this much of a quitter, I doubt you can pull through with it." The next second he turned away, striding out of the kitchen and leaving Geoffrey standing in front of the hearth. His entire body felt weird. The sudden silence felt weird. It took him ages to move, but when he did, he doubled over at the sink, choking and retching. If only he had a way to switch off his thoughts. Be surrounded by darkness, no feelings, no words, utter silence inside his head.
But he could hear them all at once. His mother, Carl, and Jonathan as well. Crying, laughing, screaming.

When turning around the corner towards the basement, Jonathan almost ran right into Harrison, who stumbled back with a shriek. His senses were so overstimulated Jonathan hadn't even noticed him. They stared at each other startled for slow passing seconds, before Harrison started to stutter.

"W-What-... Is everything alright?"

"No!" The word burst out of Jonathan like a loaded shotgun and Harrison jumped.

"Geoffrey has fucking suicide thoughts, but I'm just a worthless leech, so I'll leave it up to you to check on him." His voice was rather harsh, but he couldn't care less at the moment. Harrison paled immediately, his heart rate picking up, before he rushed past Jonathan without another word. His fangs were throbbing uncomfortably in his mouth. He needed to calm down, same as Geoffrey. He knew Harrison was trustworthy to not let Geoffrey hurt himself, but Jonathan highly doubted that anyways. He just had to clear his head. And then they'd look for a solution. Still, he was too worked up to think rationally. Just how... How could so few words rattle his mind like this? Make him reconsider if what they had was real...

Before Jonathan knew it, he stood inside the pantry. The same pantry him and Oliver had sat together and talked, the same he'd seen the crates. Jonathan knew what he had to do. End this. But in a different way than Geoffrey had come up with.

Claws and fangs. Shadow and blood. Barlow and Ascalon. They will take Geoffrey away from you.

It was dawning already when Jonathan pushed open the rusted gates of the warehouse at the upper edge of the West End. Faint early light cut through the fog, leaving a burning sensation on the back of his neck. The pain was refreshing. Jonathan wanted to hurt. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at him from the darkness at the other end of the hall.

"Fresh meat." A scratchy voice filled the air, accompanied by a sniffing sound. Jonathan stood still in the dim light, only reaching a short distance into the hall. He knew what he'd come for. His dead heart pounded inside his chest, his tongue traveled over his fangs.

"Blood and meat - so tender and sweet.
Squealing, wriggling, shrieking thing -
crunching, crushing, grinding, zing!
And in buckets and crates you go..." The voice sang, as heavy steps closed in on Jonathan. He could see the blade of a knife glinting, and heard a body being dragged over the floor. A large Vulkod with a bloodied apron grinned down on him. A giant butcher's knife in one hand, the other wrapped around a leg. Jonathan knew. He knew but his eyes still wandered over to the hole in the chest to the face of the corpse. Oliver looked like he was sleeping.

"You're next in line, meat bag." The Vulkod showed him a row of crooked yellow teeth.

"Not as tender and sweet, but I will crunch and crush and grind you all the same." The moment he dropped Oliver's body, Jonathan had already lowered his stance, shadows dancing around him.

"How peculiar..." The reach of the Vulkod felt so slow, it was as if time had stopped for Jonathan. It didn't take him a second to hack his claws into the thick skin before he was up at the Vulkod's neck.

Bite! Drink! Kill!

A flow of red washed over Jonathan's mind as his fangs ripped and tore at cold flesh until putrid blood filled his mouth and slid down his throat. The Vulkod's voice was a mere background noise, whether he was laughing or screaming, Jonathan couldn't tell. He felt the blade cut into his leg, his back, and his arm, but he didn't let go. The blood made him strong, regenerating his body faster than it got sliced by the butcher's attempt to cut off his limbs. And yet the pain was striking him like lightning. And each time he could see Geoffrey staring at him blankly, his eyes dead, mouthing the words that drove Jonathan insane.

"What does it matter now? I just want this to end."

Jonathan's head cleared only when the Vulkod lay on the floor, gurgling through his torn throat, his gradually fogging eyes not leaving Jonathan.

"So hungry... You will be a better butcher than I ever was." His heaving chest stilled, one last rattling breath wheezed through his lungs. Blood dripped from Jonathan's hands to the floor, sunlight sizzling hot behind him. He stared at the red liquid covering his shoes.

"Dr Reid." A clapping sound made him turn around, quickly moving away from the entrance into the shadows. A silhouette appeared in the opened gate.

"So we meet again. As I told you." Jonathan couldn't see his face against the light, but he heard Barlow's ugly grin all the same.

"I must admit, taking out the butcher requires extraordinary work." A familiar voice resounded from behind Jonathan as he perceived the sound of a hatch closing. When he turned again, he was eye to eye with Lord Redgrave.

"It wouldn't be the first time you rid us of our most loyal subject. But it seems you're at the end of your wits now, Dr." He gave him a thin smile.

"This isn't over until I wipe you from the face of this earth," Jonathan replied with a hiss, but Redgrave only chuckled.

"In that case you might start with my human assistant. I will meet you downstairs soon." As quick as he'd emerged, the other vampire disappeared through the hatch once again. Jonathan turned to Barlow with a frown, who approached him unbothered, stepping first over the body of the Vulkod, then over Oliver's.

"Whatever scheme you and Ascalon are planning, it's over now!" Jonathan growled, his confusion growing with every step Barlow took.

"Oh no, my good Doctor. It seems you don't understand. We're done planning. Everything worked out perfectly. I hope you bid your dear McCullum farewell. It is now my time to take over Priwen. What a shame, to see him wither like this in the end..."
Jonathan decided there was no point in wasting further words. As soon as he'd ripped off Barlow's head, he'd return to Geoffrey and take him in his arms whether he'd fight him or embrace him back.

His hands had almost reached Barlow's throat, when the sound started. And then another. It was as if an invisible wall pushed Jonathan to the ground. The shrill noise swelled, he could make out more figures entering the hall from outside, each of them accompanied with more pain and a screeching sound that made his ears bleed. Jonathan screamed as he writhed on the floor, pressing his hands to his ears, but it was useless. Barlow smiled at him as he crouched down, dangling a silver whistle right in front of his face. His lips moved, but Jonathan couldn't hear anything. His vision darkened, and soon, there was nothing left.

Chapter Text

A quiet dripping sound filled the eerie darkness Geoffrey found himself in. The air was humid, too warm, it felt moldy and rancid, yet he knew he was in no room. The echo of the liquid drop hitting the ground filled his ears again. Geoffrey blindly reached out with his hand, retracting it quickly when something cold and wet hit his skin from above. He took a step back, realizing he stood ankles deep in water. A hand brushed his shoulder and he turned startled, wanting to draw his sword, but his fingers closed around nothingness. The hand brushed him again, and with it something larger. Something cold and stiff and... meaty. The air thickened with a metallic smell and adding to the dripping sound was the creaking of a swinging rope with a heavy weight attached to it.

Geoffrey started moving. Slowly at first, until his arm caught unto a sticky substance on something stringy and solid. Another rope began to swing. Rubbery fingertips trailed through Geoffrey's hair. And even though he couldn't see anything, he burst into a run. Anywhere, nowhere. He kept hitting bodies on his way, setting more and more ropes into motion. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, crunching under every step, the water that was not water kept splashing up to his thighs. Small round objects cracked beneath his weight, and Geoffrey knew he was walking on bones and skulls.

Geoffrey...
Geoffrey...

Whispers cut through the darkness like gusts of wind from all directions, resonating through his entire body, spurring his heart into a panicked thudding. He ran even faster, shielding his head with his arms as he barreled through the meat hanging in the air.

You let us die...
You killed us...

He knew those voices. He used to know them. They had trusted him. Geoffrey's eyes widened when a light appeared in the far distance. Flickering through the swinging bodies and illuminating the ground in a glowing red. The whispering turned into laughter.

Run, run, run.
That's all you can do.
Coward.

Geoffrey shook his head as he got closer to the light. So familiar... So near... Like home. Soon he could make out a door. A single wooden frame, a bright glimmer passing through from the other side.

How can you keep going?
You want it to be over.

The door handle felt warm under his fingers. It swung open and as he stumbled over the threshold, he was blinded by the light. The voices stopped at once as the door shut behind him.

After a couple of seconds he could make out a bright room with white walls, a bed with white clean sheets. And a large opened window with white curtains being softly lifted by a gentle breeze. A woman was sitting on the bed with her back to him, humming a quiet melody, thread and needle in one hand. Geoffrey fell to his knees. The woman stilled in her movements, lowering her arms. She didn't turn as she spoke.

"You've reached the end, Geoffrey. You have no more paths to go."
Geoffrey's breath caught in his lungs when she did turn after all. He'd been convinced he'd forgotten his mother's smiling face, subdued by the tortured expression during her moments of death. But now he remembered her soft features, her warm eyes, the small gap between her front teeth.

"Lie down, my son. Lie down and forget. It is time to pass on." She gestured to the blanket next to her and Geoffrey moved like in a trance, leaving bloodied footprints on the clear wooden floor.

"You don't need to be strong anymore. You can let go now." Although those words sounded reasonable and harmonized with his own thoughts, something inside Geoffrey sent a shiver down his spine.

I never considered you weak, Geoffrey! But right now... This is pathetic.

Who... and when? But the thought vanished as quickly as it came once he sat down next to his mother. Setting her embroidery work aside, she wrapped her arms around him. Geoffrey closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ma. For everything," he muttered roughly, but she chuckled quietly and ran a hand through his hair.

"You did what you could. You deserve to rest."

"Will I see you again?" Geoffrey asked slowly, the words forming on their own, and his mother nodded, before taking his hands. Then she slowly got up and guided him through the curtains to the open window. The outside was a blinding whiteness, but it felt comfortable, safe, the wind ruffled through his clothes almost playfully.

"Will it hurt?" Geoffrey asked as his eyes got lost in the endlessness.

"No. There will be no more pain for you, my son." His mother placed a hand on his back reassuringly.

"You only need to let go."
Geoffrey carefully stepped on the windowsill. It felt so easy, as if he weighed nothing.

Don't you see? I'll never let you go, never!

That cold shiver again, merely a tingling feeling. But Geoffrey stayed rigid. Letting go... He wanted to, didn't he? He wanted to let go of everything. And he also had to let go of him.

As soon as the thought rushed through Geoffrey's head, he heard the door to the outside being opened again. The air was filled with the voices of corpses, the smell of rotting flesh, and the rumbling of the darkness that threatened to smother the safe atmosphere of this room. A new pair of bloodied footprints joined his own. Jonathan closed the door with a heavy exhale, blood dripping from his coat, his hands, his face and his hair. The hand on Geoffrey's back cramped, but he couldn't lift his eyes off Jonathan. The latter one wordlessly extended his arm, offering him a red, clawed hand.

"Do you care so much about what you are, Geoffrey?" Jonathan's voice rang through the room. The brightness beyond the window dimmed.

"I still believe you, when you told me you don't care what I am. So let me tell you the same."
Geoffrey stared at the hand. The blood would stick to him as well. The voices would be back, the darkness would engulf him once more. When he looked to the side, his mother was gone. He hadn't even noticed her hand leaving his back, her warmth passing. The room suddenly felt cold, the window behind him promising salvation, the only way out.

"Yes, the pain will be over once you take the jump. Perhaps you might even see your mother again."
Shadows crawled forth beneath the door behind Jonathan as he spoke, spreading across the walls, the ceiling, but never reaching the curtains, nor the light of the window.

"Of course it will be painful to come back with me into the darkness, to endure it, fight it, and embrace it as part of yourself." Jonathan's hand was unwavering.

"But we would be there together. And that is the only thing that truly matters."
Geoffrey gazed into those pale eyes. Those orbs of brimming emotions that had captured him from the very first moment. His own eyes suddenly felt too dry. Through the blood on his face, Jonathan smiled gently at him.

"It is your choice, Geoffrey. Yours alone."
Geoffrey carefully stepped down from the windowsill, his eyes not leaving Jonathan's. The light outside suddenly felt cold and dead... uncaring and indifferent towards his fate. And now the shadows were welcoming him, promising him equally pain and life. Slowly Geoffrey raised his own hand, reaching for Jonathan's. The crawling tendrils on the ceiling started dripping blood, staining the white walls, the sheets and the floor. And once their fingers intertwined, Geoffrey found his own body covered in blood. Jonathan's smile widened. Then he opened the door to the hell outside once more.

"Geoffrey?! Geoffrey!" A teary voice broke through the fog as Geoffrey slowly opened his eyes with a lot of effort. The ground beneath him was freezing and wet, his body felt numb, but his heart was vigorously pumping blood through his veins.

"Jon?" he muttered quietly. A wailing figure closed its arms around him. No, Harrison.

"You stupid fucking idiot! How could you do this?! How dare you?!" he screamed and cried, while Geoffrey had trouble catching up. The noise hurt his ears. What did he do again...? Looking up, he saw the remnants of the Southwark bridge above him. Oh, right. He faintly remembered to have climbed to the very top. He'd felt the wind, the water. He'd been reminded of the first time he fell. And again... Geoffrey chuckled out loud in irony, staring past Harrison's red, angry and confused face into the grey sky. Again Jonathan had saved him, in a way.

"Geoffrey, talk to me! What happened?! Dr Reid stormed off, and when I ran after you, I saw you jumping! If I hadn't dragged you out-... Fucking hell, Geoff!" A hand slapped his face. Hard. Taking him out of his thoughts.

"Talk to me!! I told you I'd stay on your side whatever happened, didn't I?! How could you do this?!" Harrison's voice broke while Geoffrey slowly tried to sit up.

"I'm sorry..." he muttered hoarsely. His mind was a mess. If he had followed his mother out of the window... Into the blinding whiteness...
Harrison pulled him close again.

"Whatever happened, Geoff, we'll find a way to fix it," he murmured shaking and Geoffrey closed his eyes once more. Maybe hoping to see Jonathan. Remembering the things he'd said to him hurt even more than his burning lungs.

"It's the meat," Geoffrey finally whispered.

"I need to find Jon. Where did he go?" he asked, trying to get up, but his knees gave in and he had to support himself on Harrison's shoulder. His wet, heavy clothes almost dragged him back to the ground.

"What are you talking about...? Geoffrey, let's get you back first, before you catch a cold!" If Harrison was trembling beneath his weight or out of fear Geoffrey couldn't tell. Both, probably. Most likely. What would he have done if he'd seen the other man jumping off that bridge...? He'd have given him a proper lecture. But Harrison now... He really put an effort into staying collected. Yet his face was streaked with tears and his eyes flickered around wildly, but never leaving Geoffrey. As if he was scared he'd dissolve into thin air any second. What had he done... Not to himself, but to the people who loved him...? Geoffrey's grip on Harrison's shoulder tightened. How did he end up so close to the edge?

Hasted steps echoed up to the shore of the Thames and through the thin morning light Geoffrey saw Astrid sprinting towards them. Harrison's body tensed as she came to a halt in front of them, her eyes wild as she panted out of breath.

"Geoffrey!" She raised her hand so quick as if to hit him, his cheek still prickling from Harrison's slap, but she stopped her arm midair.

"Why... Why on earth-...?!" Her hands grabbed his collar, ripping him away from Harrison's support. Geoffrey let it happen, still paralyzed by the coldness of the river. He hurt her too, hadn't he... And Jonathan...
Astrid suddenly shook her head.

"You'll explain yourself later! We need to get away, now!" she hissed, taking them both by the arm. Harrison frowned deeply.

"What do you mean, get away?" His gaze wandered back and forth between Geoffrey and Astrid.

"Barlow. It's over, the theater has been taken." Astrid glared at the ground restlessly, her fingers turning white around Geoffrey's elbow. Geoffrey jerked his head so quickly, Harrison jumped.

"How?! When?" he rasped, a heavy headache starting to hammer at the inside of his skull.

"Now! It was over quickly, some shots were fired, but they had the upper hand from the beginning. I got away! We need to leave now, they're looking for us!" Astrid explained rushed, tugging at him again. Where did she want to go...?

"No! I can't leave! My sister and niece are in there!" Harrison wrenched his arm free to take a step back on unstable legs.

"It's too late! Don't you get it, Jasper?!" Astrid raised her voice. Then she turned to Geoffrey, muttering almost feverishly.

"There's a boat. We can take it. We leave, we go far away... Please, Geoffrey..."
As Geoffrey looked in her eyes, he saw something he'd never seen before. Despair, fear and insecurity... Something that was much darker than care and love. At once he heard Jonathan's voice inside his head.
She's hiding something.

"What the fuck are you on about?! Astrid, what the hell happened at the theater?" Now he also heard something he'd never heard before; Harrison screaming furiously.

"First you let that poor kid die, now the headquarters fall the moment we're gone?! Explain this, Astrid! Explain to me why Anna and Lily are in there with Barlow and his rats again!" His eyes glinted with panic and anger at the same time as he faced Astrid, holding her equally enraged gaze.

"So it's my fault now?! I almost died twice in the last couple hours, while Geoffrey tries to fucking kill himself, and you? You gave Barlow the sewer key in the first place! And you hide behind the desk like the coward you've always been!" she yelled back. Geoffrey felt dizzy. He had to stop this.

"I'm the coward?! You're third in command! How are you the only one escaping the theater? How are you not holding it right this moment?!" Harrison gestured wildly, his face so distorted Geoffrey almost didn't recognize him anymore. Astrid opened her mouth to reply, but Harrison was faster.

"And why have none of the patrols seen you with Oliver? None of them have even spotted you from afar! And then you return from the Docks without him?! Start making some sense, Astrid! I'm not moving a finger until you clear this up!"
Geoffrey froze, carefully looking up into Astrid's hardened face, her eyes set to the ground. It was quiet for a moment. Harrison was breathing agitated, while the world around Geoffrey was still spinning.

"You don't get it," Astrid finally muttered bitterly.

"How much you mean to me. For me, there's nothing more important than the two of you." Her words sank deep. Sank even deeper when he realized Jonathan had been right.

"You made a deal with Barlow..." Geoffrey croaked, his voice sounding awfully scratchy. To his horror Astrid didn't reply.

"W-What-... Why, what for?!" Harrison whimpered, his rage suddenly gone as he started to shiver violently.

"He told me about the blood of King Arthur." Astrid's eyes became distant.

"You were never supposed to find out. I knew you'd try to take your own life once you realized."

"What?! I don't understand, what is this about?!" Harrison cried, but Geoffrey couldn't lift his eyes off Astrid.

"You knew..." It suddenly felt hard to breathe.

"You knew where the meat came from...?"

"No-..." she whispered hoarsely. Geoffrey didn't know if he could believe her or not. In front of him he saw someone else. Not the girl he grew up with, not the woman he trusted and loved as his friend. But someone changed.

"And what did you promise him in return? Priwen?" Geoffrey felt like he was standing next to himself as he talked. How did his voice sound so calm? Shouldn't he be screaming, raging, crying? His heart beat heavy inside his chest.

"No..." Astrid replied once more.

"The leech doctor."

"You made a deal with Barlow after he tried to kill Geoffrey on that bridge?! And what is this about meat?? Geoffrey, why did you jump?!" Harrison wept, tears running down his cheeks once more as he stared at the two in disbelief. Geoffrey turned to him slowly, the words just flowing by themselves.

"The steak you used to make me... Barlow supplies our pantry with the meat Jonathan and I found in the warehouse." It didn't take a second for Harrison to start wheezing heavily, sounding like he was about to hyperventilate.

"Where is Jonathan?" Geoffrey asked Astrid in a cold tone. She took a sharp breath.

"I don't know. I only provided the whistles. Barlow screwed me over by taking Priwen. Geoffrey... We can still head to the boat. The three of us." Astrid slowly reached for his hand, her breathing uneven, sweat forming on her forehead.

"I don't believe you!" Harrison screamed high pitched.

"You're insane, Astrid! What else did you do?! Did you kill Oliver yourself? Did you help abducting the recruits? Did you know all the time my sister's life was in danger?!"
Astrid turned away from Geoffrey. And as she did so, her face turned into an expression of wrath.

"And what was I supposed to do?! Let Geoffrey kill himself?"

"Geoffrey ate the meat before you even returned from Scotland! You're lying!" Even though he was smaller than her, Harrison got right up into her face.

"Barlow threatened to cut the supply! I don't know why he was delivering the meat in the first place! His only request was the leech!" Astrid hissed vigorously, but Harrison didn't back down.

"Oh, really?! I rather think you asked Barlow to get rid of Reid in return for Priwen! Don't think I'm blind, Astrid! You wish Geoffrey was yours and yours alone!!"
Astrid ripped her eyes wide open, suddenly drawing her knife from her hip in one swift movement.

"Back the fuck off, Jasper, before you'll regret it!"
But for perhaps the first time in his life Harrison didn't jump, didn't shriek, didn't back away. Instead he stayed where he was, ignoring the blade pressed against his chest.

"If you truly cared about Geoffrey, you'd know he's not even interested in women. But you only care about yourself, Astrid. You're obsessed." The following silence struck hard. Everything Geoffrey had believed to be a constant in this world was whirled around once more, threatening to make his head burst.

"But a leech?!" Astrid spat. The knife dug through Harrison's coat.

"A fucking leech?! A thing that is not even a man?!" she laughed madly.

"And he prefers this thing over us, Jasper! He loves it more than he ever loved us! It has him completely wrapped around its little finger, hypnotized him, mesmerized him! This has to end! This life! This life of blood and darkness! We can leave it behind, start anew! Buy a cabin up in Scotland, find ordinary jobs, and everything can be like before this madness started!"

"What happened to you, Astrid...?" With a click Geoffrey saw how Harrison had drawn his revolver, pointing it back at Astrid. His expression was too flat, mournful in the way one grieved for someone dear that long since passed.

"Don't make me hurt you, Jasper..." Astrid's hand around the knife quivered, her other hand curled into a fist, tears escaping her eyes. Geoffrey felt like a passive bystander. He should do something... anything. Anything to stop this absurd scene unfolding in front of him. But he didn't move, stood still as if a physical force held him in place.

"I know you always liked Geoffrey more than me. But don't you see it's too late now? You lost, Astrid. No one's coming with you. You need to go." Harrison tightened his hold on the gun, giving her a light shove in the chest. But instead of moving back, Astrid reached for Geoffrey, approaching him once more. Harrison quickly positioned himself between them, still aiming at her.

"Stay away from Geoffrey. You've done enough harm," he threatened her, his trembling hands betraying his stable voice.

"You're in the way, Jasper," Astrid whispered voicelessly, pushing on despite the weapon pressed between her collar bones.

"Only I can save Geoffrey."

"Turn around and go, Astrid. This is your last chance!" Harrison gritted his teeth, his feet planted firmly into the gravelly ground before Geoffrey.

"I won't give him up, Jasper. You're in the way." Astrid narrowed her eyes. The tension in the air crackled, about to burst.

"Leave! Now!"

"Make me."

Before Geoffrey could even grasp what happened in front of him the next moment, it was already too late. A gunshot, a bullet winding its way through flesh, a scream, a blade slashing wildly, cries of pain. Hadn't he seen enough blood...? So much blood? Wasn't there anything else in his life? Not anymore. Nothing else.

Geoffrey's body moved on its own as he knelt down next to Harrison, frantically trying to cover the cut on his throat with his hands. They were red in a matter of seconds. Harrison spat blood, his teeth shining red, his eyes becoming glassy as they tried to focus on Geoffrey. A clammy  hand grabbed his, feeling up his arm to finally cradle his cheek.

"Find... Jonathan," Harrison coughed, spasm rocking through his body.

"I know... you two-... can do it."
Geoffrey wanted to say something, but his lips were sealed. Instead tears rolled down his cheeks, falling to the ground, on his best friend.

"Geoffrey..." Harrison's hand fell and Geoffrey's heart stopped. Jasper Harrison. His Jasper... Always there. His whole life. And now he was gone. Now he lay on the shore of the Thames in a puddle of his own blood, his mouth opened, his body limp and inanimate. A corpse. His best friend was a corpse. The tears obstructed his sight. Yet his hands curled around Harrison's face, as if trying to squeeze the life back into him, to make those kind brown eyes shine again, to hear his soothing voice once more.

Sounds escaped Geoffrey's throat he'd never heard himself make before. This was a different pain. This was so different from when he stood in the kitchen with Jonathan telling him the meat in the pan was human flesh. This hurt so much worse. And Geoffrey was ashamed. So ashamed that he'd almost inflicted this pain on Harrison. Then his insides contracted. It didn't matter anymore. Because Harrison was dead. Geoffrey couldn't breathe, his hands not leaving the body, every sob churning his very existence.

He heaved the man into his arms, holding him close. But then his eyes wandered. They wandered to the other figure crawling on the ground towards him. Slowly Geoffrey let go, standing up carefully as he stared down on Astrid pressing one hand to her side, while pulling herself closer. Harrison had aimed for a non-lethal area. Something akin to furry, yet so different arose in Geoffrey. The pain made it almost numb.

"Geoffrey... Help me," Astrid begged, her face white as a sheet of paper, sharp pebbles having dug into her hands and the wound that left a dark red trail behind. Geoffrey stepped back.

"Geoffrey!" Astrid cried out, lifting her hand, but she couldn't reach far enough to grab him.

"Don't you understand-... I love you!" she whimpered, collapsing right beside Harrison. Geoffrey took another step back, the pain making him sick, her words poison to his mind.

"Don't leave me!"
Geoffrey closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight any longer. He turned.

"Don't leave me, Geoffrey!" Astrid started to scream and whine, but the further he ran, the quieter it got. Until any noise ceased eventually. The sun had almost risen completely, the bright light hurting Geoffrey's eyes, burning into his skin uncomfortably. His legs only managed to carry him to the closest sewer entrance before they gave in beneath him. His body lost all tension and he simply lay in the shadow of the tunnel inside the dirt, his senses short circuiting until he felt nothing.

Was this what Jonathan experienced after his best friend had killed his own wife? After he'd been exposed at the hospital? With nothing left but the grave stone of his sister...? Geoffrey hadn't known. How it would truly be like to lose everything. A memory played in his mind. Him sitting next to Jonathan in the rain, their backs against the tombstone. Him reaching for Jonathan's face, kissing him for the first time. It felt unreal... As if it had happened in a different life, someone else's life.
Only Jonathan could save him now. Geoffrey knew he wouldn't get up by himself, maybe he'd lie here forever. Maybe he'd never open his eyes again.

He couldn't tell how much time passed, whether it was an hour or an entire day, until the sound of footsteps in the tunnel reached his ears, coming closer in a walking pace. Jonathan... Jonathan had found him. Geoffrey didn't move as the steps stopped right in front of him, he heard the rustling of fabric when Jonathan leaned down. A cold hand was placed on his cheek.

"It seems my nose wasn't wrong," Jonathan said in a voice that was not Jonathan's. The hand wandered to Geoffrey's throat, slowly starting to squeeze.

"The blood is strong in you, hunter." The hand forced him up firmly, until Geoffrey found himself pressed against the wall with his feet dangling in the air. He didn't even have the mind to defend himself. Not even to breathe. What more pain could he feel anyways? Blinking, he looked into the face that was not Jonathan's.

"Still, you're nothing but a feeble human. We'll see how long you will last. And afterwards you shall be fairly distributed. Everyone wants a share of King Arthur's blood after all." The laughter of Lord Redgrave filled his ears as Geoffrey gladly embraced the darkness weaving its veil around him.