It's Not Who You Were Born To

Notes: *sigh* I guess I should interpret the guy's mumblings when he's gagged. Astars! I ill oo--Bastards! I'll kill you! Uck oo!--Fuck you! Yeah, I know it's pretty evident, but hey... Better safe than sorry. Oh oo ell--Go to hell.

It's Not Who You Were Born To, Part Ten
Fledgling

By Scribe

Dwayne's smile faded, replaced by a pained and puzzled look. "Paul, I think maybe this coming back from the dead thing isn't working. I feel awful." He pushed a hand restlessly through his long, dark hair, expression puckering. "I dunno how to explain it. I feel all hot and cold at the same time--like I did that time I had the flu and ran a 104 degree temperature." He sat up, the sheet sliding down his chest to pool in his lap, and folded his hands protectively over his belly. His voice was rising in bewilderment and discomfort. "And I feel sick to my stomach, but like I'm starving, and I'm so thirsty I could drink out of a urinal."

Paul put an arm around his shoulders, hugging him. "Stay calm, babe--it's natural." David snorted. "All right--it's EXPECTED. This is part of the turning. Your body has gone through a hell of a change, and you need to feed. You'll be all right after you get some food into you."

Dwayne managed a weak smile. "I'm going to assume you don't mean burgers."

"No," said Paul gently. "Dwayne, you're going to have to hunt for your food now."

Dwayne made a face. "I never hunted before. Jake the Snake used to have a deer lease, and he gave me hell because I wouldn't hunt. Not that he wanted me tagging along--it was just something else to ride me about."

"Different sort of hunting. This isn't going to be neat and clean, from a distance," warned David. "It's up close, and personal, and sometimes the prey fights back." He reached out and took Dwayne's chin in his hand, staring into the other boy's eyes. His voice was soft. "But with what you've been through, I think you have enough pain and anger stored up so that isn't going to be a real problem."

Paul started to get up, and Dwayne clung to his hand. "It's all right--I'm not going anywhere," he soothed. "I just need to get you some clothes. I'm afraid that riding a cycle bare ass might attract a little more attention than we need." He walked over to the closet where David had found his 'costume' for the hospital commando action, and began rummaging through the contents. "I think we'll have something here that'll fit you."

Dwayne watched him, thinking that he wasn't sure if he wanted to know how they came to have that big pile of assorted clothes, but suspecting that he would find out soon. David got up and said, "I'll be back in a minute. You two don't go anywhere, okay?" Paul, critically examining a grubby sweatshirt, nodded, and David left the room.

Paul dropped the sweatshirt. "I know we have something a little better in here." He dug deeper, then held up a Tee shirt. "This one is clean. How do you feel about Pearl Jam?"

"They were okay before they went commercial."

Paul tossed the shirt on the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans. "That'll do till we can shop. Those should fit. They might be a little tight, but..."

Dwayne reached for the clothes. "Hey, I've never minded tight jeans."

Paul grinned. "Bless you."

Dwayne started to stand up, and was suddenly light-headed. He swayed, putting out his hand to catch something for support. Suddenly Paul was there, catching him. Dwayne blinked. "Damn, you're fast."

"When I need to be, babe. Sit down, and I'll help you. Once you eat, you'll be all right." Dwayne pulled the shirt over his head while Paul fitted the pants on his lower legs. "We kept your boots. Shoes are a bitch to size unless you actually try them on. Okay, put your hand on my shoulder and stand, so we can get these the rest of the way up."

Dwayne stood, with Paul's help, and the blond vampire worked the jeans up his legs, then fastened them. "I hope David hurries up. I really, really need to get something in my belly. But I don't know how I'm going to ride into town. I feel like I'm going to pass out any minute now."

There were noises out in the hall. Paul cocked his head, and recognized more than one set of footsteps. There was scuffling, and a few thumps, as if someone had fallen *or been pushed?* against a wall--and there was a muffled, frantic gabbling. Paul rubbed Dwayne's shoulder, grinning. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

David appeared in the doorway. "I gotta 'welcome to the family' present for you, little brother." He reached to the side, and dragged another figure into sight, pushing him into the room. It was a middle-aged man, with his hands bound behind him. He was gagged, and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. "Oh, and Paul--I think you're going to like this, too."

The captive, a soiled bandana between his teeth, mumbled, "Astars! I ill oo."

"We tremble," drawled David. He shoved hard, and the wild-eyed man fell on the bed, close to the seated pair.

Paul eyed the man, then said, "This one looks familiar." He leaned closer, and got a whiff of... "Maple syrup?"

"Uck oo!"

Paul's eyes widened, and a slow grin started to form. "Son of a bitch--it's him!" David nodded. Paul looked at Dwayne. "When I first came to Santa Carla, this gentleman was reluctant to serve me at his fine, upscale establishment. He thought I'd eat and run." Paul reached down and buried his hand in the angry man's hair, shaking his head roughly, making him wince. "Lack of trust is HURTFUL, man." His voice was grieved. "I was wounded."

"Oh oo ell!"

"Man, you are just unsociable," said David mildly. "But then, I guess I'm not being much of a host." He pulled a knife from his pocket, snapping it open. "No need to keep the rag in, since there's no fucking way anyone's gonna hear you out there." He reached toward the man, who started kicking. David moved quickly, kneeling on him and using his free hand to press down on the man's forehead, forcing his head into the mattress. "I don't feel like farting around trying to untie knots, so just be still unless you wanna get cut." The man stilled, and David sliced through the gag.

The man spit the fabric out and said, "Prick! I'm not afraid of you punks."

"You're not?" David crawled off him, kicking his leg. "You're fuckin' stupid, then."

"You don't dare do anything to me, you little shits. I'll be missed."

Paul laughed. "Damn, dude. Haven't you noticed how many people go missing in Santa Carla? What makes you think you're gonna be anything special?"

Dwayne was staring down at the man. It was odd. The man was bound and gagged, and all he could think of was... "He smells good." He looked at Paul, puzzled. "But I don't even really LIKE pancakes."

"Faggot," snapped the man. His tone was venomous.

Dwayne's expression tightened, and Paul immediately punched the man in the face--hard. "Shut the fuck up, asshole!"

The cook's nose started to bleed, and Dwayne felt himself begin to tremble, staring at the crimson trickle. The sweet, coppery smell was stronger. "Paul?" he whispered.

"Yeah, babe--that's what you're smelling. Go on, he's yours."

"You fuckin' ain't gonna rape me!" the man squalled.

"Don't flatter yourself," said Paul, disgusted. "I'd sooner stick my dick in a garbage disposal." He moved to the other side and shoved the man's head over, pinning it like David had, and exposing his neck. "Go on, Dwayne." He touched the side of the man's neck. "Right here, see? If you get the carotid, it can spurt too strong, and you lose a lot if you aren't fast, so you need to go for the jugular till you get a few under your belt."

Dwayne bent toward the man, then hesitated. His eyes went wide, and his hand flew to his mouth. "My teeth hurt."

"It's just your fangs dropping."

"My fangs?"

David smiled. "Sure, doofus. You know--fangs--vampires. How did you think you were going to get blood--take out a loan at the plasma bank?" Dwayne's mouth was slightly open, and David reached over, slipping one finger in to stroke gently over the prominent canines. "As pretty a set as I've ever seen. Use 'em, bro."

Again Dwayne started to bend down, and hesitated. He looked at Paul, almost apologetically. "I... don't think I can."

David shook his head. "Damn, that last little bit of humanity is hard to get over. Here." He ran a finger through the blood that was now dripping past the man's chin. He smeared the blood over the boy's mouth, then stood back.

Dwayne's tongue flicked out, and his eyes grew wide as the taste flooded him. He lapped eagerly, cleaning his lips, but still he hesitated, staring doubtfully at the captive.

The man snarled, "Fucking little fairy!"

Dwayne's head swam as memories flickered through his mind. The sour smell of whiskey and sweat, hard hands mauling his body, a heavy body pressing him down, the sound of his mother shuffling away, ignoring his pleas, and those exact same words, spoken in another voice. He lunged.

In the second before pain ripped into his throat, the man saw the pretty boy's face change into something inhuman. He tried to scream, but all he could manage was a wet, gargling sound. The thing shook its head, causing tearing pain, and the man felt the hot gush of blood bathe his shoulder. There were growls, and sucking sounds. He had time to think that the blond punk had been right--he SHOULD have been afraid. He was grateful when the darkness claimed him.

The two elder vampires watched in approving silence as the fledgling fed for the first time. After awhile, David put his hand on Dwayne's shoulder. "C'mon, kiddo, don't gorge. It isn't good to glut yourself--it makes you sluggish, and we have somewhere to be tonight."

Dwayne made a little moan, but he obeyed, sitting back on his heels as his face sank back into human form. Paul hugged him. "Just give it a minute, babe. Let it start to nourish you. Believe me, you'd have been too full, if you'd kept going."

Dwayne touched his chin, feeling it wet, and drew away fingers slick with blood. He regarded them for a moment, then licked them clean. Dwayne glanced down at the man, noting the gore. "I made a mess."

Paul pulled a bandana from his pocket and gently wiped Dwayne's face clean. "You'll get better. All babies make a mess when they first start feeding themselves."

Dwayne looked down, and noticed that, though the man was staring upward, blood still pumped slowly from the ragged wound in his neck. "He's still alive."

"He won't be for long," David said negligently. "Feeling better now?"

Dwayne nodded. He stood up carefully, waiting to see if he'd become faint again, but he didn't. "Yeah, I feel fine." His voice grew stronger. "I feel better than I have for a long time. The bleeding's stopped."

Paul pushed the body, and it rolled limply to the floor. "Yep. One less asshole in the world."

David clapped his hands. "Okay, now that's out of the way, it's time to go into town."

"What about that?" Dwayne indicated the corpse.

David shrugged. "He's not going anywhere."

"But won't he...? I mean, I..."

"Oh, HELL no, little brother. Gah, if every piece of trash we fed off of rose again, there'd be hordes of us and none of them in no time at all. Don't worry about that." He reached out and laid a gentle hand on Dwayne's cheek. "You can't accidentally make one of us, Dwayne. It takes effort."

Paul moved up behind him, embracing him and laying his cheek against the shorter boy's back. "We only do it for special people. I was special for David--you're special for me."

"Was David special for Max?" Something flared in David's eyes, a combination of anger, pain, and sorrow, and Dwayne said quickly, "I'm sorry!"

"No." David shook his head. "Don't be. I guess I'm special to Max--but not like that. Never like that."

"And I won't have to be like that... with Max?"

"No," Paul said instantly, fiercely.

"No," agreed David. "You don't have to worry about that. Max..." He bit his lip. "Look, Max is in charge, yeah. And he thinks of us as his family. Well," he glanced at Paul, "Paul and I see things a little different, but he doesn't have to know about that. Things are just easier if we go along. It won't always be like that, but it has to be for now. Okay?"

"I can handle it, as long as I have you and Paul."

As they left the lair, Paul said, "If you want to, we can find out where they took your mother. I'm not sure whether or not they'll have buried her by now."

"That's not necessary."

"You sure? I don't want you to make a decision you'll regret, man. After all, she gave birth to you."

They'd reached the bikes, and Dwayne mounted behind Paul, wrapping his arms securely around the other boy's waist as David got on his own bike. "Maybe she did." Dwayne kissed the back of Paul's neck, and exulted in the way the other boy shivered. "But sometimes it's not who you were born to."

The End